Chapter Text
Gazing through the bus window at the passing buildings that towered like spires in the sky, hearing the car horns that roared their annoyance, and feeling the rising sun warm her face, Yachi was finally in Tokyo.
Yachi had been looking forward to the training camp ever since it was announced last week. It was her first time going to Tokyo; her first time going anywhere outside of Tohoku’s countryside. Needless to say, she was beyond excited.
Not only would she be able to enhance her managerial skills, but she would also have the chance of growing closer to the team and learning more about volleyball, a feat that would take more than just simply reading about it in her volleyball books and magazines.
When she decided to become Karasuno’s upcoming manager, Yachi told herself she would not fail. She took it upon herself to watch intently, ask questions when she didn’t understand a play or specific terminology, and study volleyball whenever she could.
The boys were giving this their all, so why should Yachi be any different? Watching them practice until their knees wobbled and seeing them grow as players inspired Yachi to also try her hardest. And the Nekoma training camp would be the perfect place for not only the boys to enhance their skills and plays, but also for Yachi to support them as a manager.
But the excitement that had been building up, the giddiness she had felt for the past week was short lived. It was immediately squashed when she entered the Nekoma gymnasium—a vast expanse of three courts and high glass windows that let in the summer sun—and was instantly surrounded by tall, muscular men who looked as if they could squash her.
Yachi’s stomach turned and she tried to hold back her nausea as Hinata’s gasp of excitement sounded behind her and Kageyama’s instant assessment of the players whizzed past her ear.
At least the boys are looking forward to this, she thought with a mild smile. Then she shook herself, slapping her face gently. Even if Yachi did feel slightly uncomfortable being surrounded by intimidating men, this week was dedicated for the team. Yachi couldn’t be selfish about how she was feeling; she’d take this as an opportunity to grow out of her shell, if such a thing was possible.
It seemed a difficult task, especially when the men didn’t look all that inviting and nice. They were as tall as the Tokyo buildings and built as sturdy as their foundations. Maybe they weren’t all that bad; she had thought the same thing about Asahi when first joining the team, yet he turned out to be a sweet and gentle giant. So she would try, she thought with a rare burst of self motivation. She had to; for Karasuno. For herself.
She stepped forward, further into the gym and all previous positivity had vanished when a particularly tall, dark haired man who wore red shorts and a black shirt with a blue vest that had the number "1" printed on the front, came up to them. The captain then, Yachi thought with a slight tremor. And by the fact he was welcoming them in the gym must mean he was Nekoma’s Captain.
What was his name again? Yachi had been briefed by Kiyoko about the captain’s of each school, but it had been late after practice last night, so Yachi ultimately forgot.
His body was lean, but his shoulders were broad and corded muscles decorated his tanned skin. His cat-like hazel eyes were narrowed, extremely fitting for being on the Nekoma team, but they only intimidated Yachi. Perhaps the one thing she didn’t find alarming of the man was his natural and ruffled case of bed head. It made him seem more… normal . Less frightening.
She knew it wasn’t right to judge a person by their exterior, so Yachi didn’t want to jump to conclusions especially since she’s never even spoken to the man. But his presence, daunting and powerful, was enough to warrant Yachi to sink behind Kiyoko.
“Welcome to Tokyo.” He greeted them with a wave, his voice deep—deeper than Yachi thought it would be—but it was a pleasant thing to listen to. Like water flowing easily over stones, his voice was smooth and low. “I see you all made it in one piece.” His eyes roamed over the group and Yachi didn’t miss how his eyes seemed to linger on Hinata and Kageyama. Or that they had briefly landed on her and flickered with curiosity. Yachi found herself looking away.
Daichi held out a hand. “Thank you for having us, Kuroo.”
Kuroo . That was his name. Black tail. The name fit him, or at least his exterior appearance, perfectly. He seemed tactful, almost dangerous; schemeful and hyperaware. Just like a cat.
The team bowed slightly in greeting, Yachi doing the same. She had spotted the other teams' managers—all girls thankfully— when she had looked around the gymnasium. She was somewhat grateful that she wouldn’t be around just men for the entirety of the week. Not to mention she had Kiyoko by her side; the girl was always watching Yachi’s back and protecting her.
Kuroo clasped Daichi’s hand in a captain’s handshake as they exchanged tight smiles.
“Hope you’re ready to play some matches.” Kuroo said, dropping Daichi’s hand.
Daichi was about to respond when Hinata chipped in, his voice brimming with electric determination, “Of course we’re ready! I don’t plan on losing!”
Kuroo only smiled with a cat's grin. “We’ll see about that.”
And then the captain of Nekoma sauntered away, leaving Yachi watching his back, the image of the cat's black tail swishing back and forth flickering in her mind.
They did see.
Karasuno saw very well just how much they needed this training camp.
They lost every single practice match. The penalty: one round of flying laps. But they never complained. And their tenacity never wavered. They lost, but they accepted defeat gracefully and moved on, all while learning about the techniques their opponents used. Which Yachi knew would come in handy in the near future.
Yachi clutched at her chest as she watched them dive and slide across the floor. How did that not hurt?
She felt Kiyoko’s womanly presence come up beside her. The girl was looking on as well, her soft eyes following a certain wing spiker with a shaved head. Her hands were full of water bottles as she said, “They worked hard today. Be sure to give some encouragement as you hand out their bottles.”
Yachi nodded, “Of course.”
She knew they worked hard. She watched all day as they struggled but continued to fight. She would have given encouragement even if Kiyoko hadn’t said anything. But looking on as the girl went straight to Tanaka, her cheeks slightly flushed, Yachi thought that maybe the girl’s advice was meant for Kiyoko herself rather than for Yachi.
Smiling to herself at her senpai’s shy actions, Yachi handed out water bottles to the remaining members, all while praising them for a hard day's work. They responded with breathless smiles and sweat soaked grins.
After the practice matches finished, individual practice began. The members seemed more than ready to begin. Hinata practiced his spikes alongside Tanaka and Asahi, Nishinoyo setting up the plays. Yamaguchi practiced his serves while Daichi practiced his receives with Sugawara. Kageyama practiced his setting with Kiyoko tossing him the ball. Tsukishima disappeared to another gymnasium to practice blocking with players from Nekoma and Fukurodani. Yachi was left to observe, take notes, and pick up stray balls to be reused.
Halfway through individual practice, Yachi noticed a tall figure enter the gymnasium and go straight for court B where members of Nekoma and Fukurdani practiced. Kuroo had walked over with a raise of his hand.
Members of Fukurodani and his own teammates had gathered around him when he waved them to his side. After a few short minutes, the Fukurodani members had nodded and went to the opposing side of the court.
When they had, Kuroo then turned to his teammates and when they all nodded eagerly with knowing eyes, Kuroo clapped his hands together once and they dispersed into their respective positions.
They were playing three-on-three volleyball, she realized as Kuroo took his place at the back of the court, hands spinning the volleyball as he readied himself for a serve.
Yachi held her breath as he threw the ball in the air, following it with his long strides. His powerful body leapt into the air, arching like a taut bow, his large hand raising to meet the ball.
The sound was sharp and quick, like a knife slicing through thin air, as he served the ball to the receiving court.
It was beautiful— Kuroo’s form. The way his body seemed made for volleyball. As if the very muscles that wound across him like corded armor were formed for this sport only.
Yachi released her breath as he came down from his jump serve. She followed Kuroo with her gaze. She watched him receive, his body lowered to the ground and his toned thighs straining with effort. And when he blocked spikes his strong arms were an impenetrable force.
It was a different sort of beautiful than when Hinata played. Where Hinata was a crow flying towards the sky, Kuroo was a cat pouncing on prey. Where Hinata was fluid and free, Kuroo was graceful and nimble.
Both were a sight to witness, yet despite her friendship with Hinata, Yachi’s attention kept drifting back to the stranger known as Kuroo, as if she were addicted to his playing. As if she was constantly thirsting for his polished and swift movements.
After only ten minutes, Kuroo landed another point--the final point in their short match. He wiped the sweat away from his brow with his shoulder before turning towards Yachi’s court.
She turned away, scared that he would catch her watching him. She tried to focus on the practice before her, but her mind kept wandering to the man who approached and how she wanted to see him play more. Does that make me a bad manager?, she thought with a jolt. She still wanted Karasuno to defeat every team and make it to Nationals. But it wasn’t bad to also support the other team, right?
Lost in her thoughts, Yachi didn’t hear her name being called until Hinata’s voice broke through, sharp with warning, “Yachi! Watch out!”
She whipped her head to the sound and saw a stray volleyball flying towards her. She barely had enough time to bring her arms up to guard her face before the volleyball hit her, or... didn’t .
The court never broke from their practice, the sounds of volleyballs being hit and the yells of encouragement and positioning still ringing in her ears. But her face was unharmed.
She then felt the shadow of a presence towering over her as she peeked one eye open and saw a large hand clasping the ball, the man’s fingers bent slightly as if it had taken considerable strength to stop the oncoming ball. She stumbled a surprised step back, her eyes flying open, and was met with a warm wall of muscle at her back.
Yachi dropped her arms as she turned her head over her shoulder and looked up, and up into the hazel, almost gold, eyes of Kuroo.
He blinked once. Slowly.
Watching from afar and with distance between them, Yachi forgot how menacing he was. But now his extremely calm, almost emotionless face was watching her. She let out a frightened squeak and turned to face him, bowing at the waist.
“I’m so sorry.” She practically yelled.
When he didn’t respond, probably reigning in his frustration for having a clumsy woman on the court, she bowed again. Deeper. “I’m sorry.” Her voice shook with nerves.
“Oi.” His voice was balmy and steady, the opposite of how Yachi felt, but there was a hint of concern as he asked, “Are you okay?”
Yachi blinked at the floor before she raised her head to look up at him. “Oh. Yes. Sorry.”
Kuroo considered her and lowered the ball, placing it at his hips as his toned arm rested against it; a picture of poised relaxation that radiated confidence. “You sure do apologize a lot, don’t you?” He noted casually, his slitted eyes focusing on her.
“I guess so.” She said frantically, looking away as she rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m sor—” Yachi paused. She had been about to apologize when she glanced at him and saw the hint of mischief in Kuroo’s eyes.
He laughed an amused huff.
Yachi blushed furiously.
“You must be the new manager of Karasuno.” He said, tossing the ball into the ball cart.
Yachi nodded, still not quite believing she was having a conversation with such an intimidating man. But—she thought with a small twinge of guilt—was he really that intimidating? He had just saved her from a ball to the face and now he was…well, she assumed he was making polite conversation. She didn’t know why, but her stomach seemed to flip-flop at the realization that she was wrong; that Kuroo may not be as frightening as she had thought.
“It must be hard to be in charge of watching over Chibi-Chan.” Kuroo remarked as he observed Karasuno’s practicing.
It wasn’t difficult to guess who he referred to as Chibi-Chan, especially since Hinata had yelled over his next spike, “I told you to stop calling me that!”
Yachi smiled despite Kuroo’s taunt. “Being a manager is tougher than people realize, but—“ She looked at her new friends, the team she would be supporting for the next two years, and only felt an overwhelming sense of security, “—watching everyone work their hardest makes me want to work hard too, so it’s not so bad. And even though I may not know a lot about volleyball, I’m learning everyday. It’s exciting and new, but—“ She paused, realizing she was blabbing. “Ah— I didn’t mean to ramble, I just…”
“You just really enjoy it. The experience. The people.” Kuroo answered for her, looking down at her with a softness in his eyes that made her heart falter.
Yachi nodded, pleasantly surprised that Kuroo stole the words from her mouth as if he knew what she was thinking. “Yes. I do.” She said with a small smile.
Kuroo hummed leisurely, his voice deepening in pitch which sent shivers down her spine, “It seems Karasuno managed to find one hell of a manager.”
Yachi glanced up at him with surprise. She wasn’t technically their manager yet, but did it look like she was? A strange but warm feeling— like a heavy and comfortable blanket being laid upon her—settled on her at the notion of being recognized as Karasuno’s manager. Kuroo was looking at her with a half smile, his eyes dancing with honesty and something like— curiosity ?
Whatever it was, this time Yachi did not look away.
Not even when he held out his hand and introduced himself, “Kuroo Tetsurou.”
Yachi stared at him, frozen with hesitation. But she slid her eyes to his outstretched hand. She wasn’t scared, she thought unexpectedly, to take his hand. It was big, yes, but it wasn’t menacing. Not anymore.
If anything, she only hesitated because she had never held a boy’s hand. At 16 she had never had a boyfriend or any sort of experience with boys. But—she slapped herself inwardly. It’s just a handshake , she scolded herself, it’s not like he’s confessing .
“Yachi Hitoka.” She replied, tentatively taking his hand.
She would have clasped it, but she realized it was nearly impossible to do so. His hand, warm and ripe with calluses, engulfed her own small, soft hand. She didn’t hate the feeling, she thought as a sudden warmth crept along her neck at his touch. The man who she had once thought, only this morning, as fearsome and immensely intimidating, seemed to be anything but.
Okay, maybe he was fearsome and intimidating when it came to the game of volleyball— Yachi surely wouldn’t want to play against him and his vicious spikes and blocks that could rip an arm off. And she had watched him as the captain of Nekoma—a man who was respected by his teammates and who led his team with wits and intelligence. Despite his outward appearance, Kuroo had presented himself to Yachi as someone mature and kind.
“Kuroooooo!” A hearty voice bellowed from the entrance of the gym, startling Yachi out of her skin.
She pulled her hand from Kuroo’s, the absence of his warmth notable. Kuroo stared at her a second more before he blinked his eyes up to the man who called him.
Yachi was surprised to hear Kuroo sigh deeply—but affectionately—as he ran a hand through his spiked hair. He passed by her, leaving her behind to walk towards another tall man who had black hair streaked white-gray, his rounded gold eyes alight with excited energy as he ran towards Kuroo with a wave.
Thinking back on this morning's reminder lessons about the other teams present for this training, Yachi remembered the man to be Kōtarō Bokuto, captain and ace of Fukurōdani Academy. Yet another powerful presence that instilled a sort of fear and awe in Yachi.
She watched as Bokuto spoke with a wide smile and big gestures, Kuroo listening with his arms crossed and a relaxed expression.
Are they friends? Yachi thought as she picked up a ball that had rolled to her feet.
She found it safe to assume they were when Bokuto had whispered something in Kuroo’s ear, making his eyes widen with surprise. Kuroo had reached for the owl-like boy and playfully put him in a headlock. Yachi found herself thinking with placid amusement, I take it back . Maybe Kuroo isn’t as mature as I thought.
But that only made her more curious about Kuroo.
What was he like outside of volleyball?
What, other than volleyball, did he enjoy?
The questions and curiosity sped through her faster than she could process, but they didn’t stop. Even when Kuroo was leading Bokuto from the gymnasium. And even when he was nowhere in sight, Yachi could only think— More. I want to know more about Kuroo.
Kuroo noticed the blonde haired girl the moment she set foot into the gymnasium. She was small and slight and seemed to stiffen with fear as she beheld the different teams practicing. Whether it was fear of talent or of the players themselves, Kuroo didn’t know, but he found himself curious of it. But when she directly avoided his eye contact and slipped further behind the current Karasuno manager as he welcomed Karasuno to Tokyo, he was inclined to believe her fear was of the latter.
He hadn’t meant to, but all day Kuroo had found his eyes wandering to the up and coming manager of Karasuno. Her actions and easy-to-read emotions were eye catching and addicting to watch—like a volleyball match between Japan and South Korea.
She’d easily get distracted by the practice match while picking up balls, only to yelp with surprise when a ball came flying towards her. She had dodged them, but barely.
Her eyes, the color of the sweetest caramel, would widen with awe when she beheld the different methods used by the opposing teams to which he only assumed she had scribbled down in the small blue notebook she carried around.
It was a miracle he had gotten to win most of the games they had that day when it felt like he dedicated half of it to observing the blonde haired girl. But he couldn’t help it. He was intrigued by her nervous and shy self. He wanted to see what other expressions she could make. Was it the teasing part of himself that made him curious?
When individual practice had started, Kuroo told himself to leave the gymnasium and practice with some of his team members. He needed to feel like he accomplished something today other than memorizing the girl’s small steps and serene interactions with Karasuno’s members.
But halfway through evening practice, where he had spent most of it with Tsukishima of Karasuno practicing blocks, something—or more like someone — had tugged him towards gym A.
So, he left gym B and returned to the first gym where he found Yamamoto and Inuoka practicing. He tried not to look at the court beside theirs when he noticed a certain blonde haired girl peering at him over a small shoulder.
You’re here to practice , Kuroo chided himself as he gathered three other players from Fukurodani for a small match. But he knew that wasn’t the only reason he came here.
He felt, more than saw, the girl's curious eyes on him as he played the game. Maybe he had performed higher jump serves and more powerful spikes and defending blocks all because that girl was watching. But he couldn’t help it. For some reason Kuroo had wanted to show her how strong he was at playing volleyball.
What did that make him though? A snobby show off? A self centered player? The last thing he wanted was to be compared to Aoba Johsai’s Oikawa.
When their match had ended, Kuroo had planned on going over to Karasuno’s team and telling them that dinner would no longer be served in an hour. Of course, he had also wanted a chance to be closer to the girl. But when he saw Hinata's spike, too strong and uncontrolled, heading for the girl who had caught his attention all day, Kuroo acted on instinct.
His feet had carried him like wind over water to her. Just in time to catch the ball and prevent it from injuring her.
She had looked up at him with a mixture of relief and fear, and Kuroo couldn’t ignore the sharp stab of pain at the thought that she was scared of him. He knows his outward appearance wasn’t exactly screaming friendly and inviting, but for some reason he didn’t want her to think of him as frightening.
The girl had stepped away and apologized profusely and his provoking self couldn’t say he wasn’t amused. He wanted to keep teasing her, but he also didn’t want her feeling uneasy around him. After all, their teams would be seeing much more of each other in the future if both of them performed well in the prefectures.
He tried to calm her down by asking the question he already knew the answer to. Since she wasn’t at the first practice match the two teams had, it was only obvious she was recruited soon after to become the new manager. But he still asked it, and she seemed to relax slightly.
But what he hadn’t expected was for her to be so open about her feelings as manager. Usually managers have some sort of experience, whether it’s playing on a team or knowing someone who played volleyball. But she had none. He didn’t know why she had signed up for the position, only that she had. And some part of him, a part he didn’t want to name so early on, was relieved that she did.
He had introduced himself to her and she to him before Bokuto interrupted. And he hated it—the way her hand slid effortlessly from his. He wanted to talk to her more.
But Bokuto had insisted he come practice his blocks with him. Kuroo accepted easily enough; if he didn’t, Bokuto would just pester him until he agreed. But his friend didn’t stop there. Bokuto had leaned in and whispered with an amused expression, Were you flirting just now?
It made Kuroo want to slap a hand over his mouth and shove him out the door, but he opted for a headlock and continued to drag him away from the gym, lest he say something that could be overheard by Yachi.
But even as he dragged Bokuto away from the gym. Even as he left behind the girl who had captivated his attention, Kuroo only had one thought in his mind—More. I want to know more about Yachi .