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Kenma quietly transcribed the notes onto the website. He could always tell where in the notes each class started and ended by how drastically Kuroo’s handwriting changed. It went from delicate and spaced out with clearly drawn figures and carefully placed highlighting, to being a scribbled nightmare. He circled a paragraph he found absolutely incomprehensible and threw the notebook back at Kuroo, who looked up from the textbook he was reading.
“You write like a six year old,” Kenma complained as he traced the etching on Kuroo’s desk with his fingers.
“Yeah, I can’t read this either,” Kuroo said taking his glasses off, “Oh I meant to tell you, apparently Akaashi got drunk at a party last weekend and stole someone’s houseplant because they were overwatering it.”
“Akaashi drinks?” Kenma asked, looking up from his laptop.
“Apparently, but he’s never drank at any of the parties I’ve seen him at. I would say it could be a case of mistaken identity, but I can’t imagine anyone else drunkenly stealing a houseplant,” Kuroo said with a laugh.
“Guarantee it was a spider plant. He’s been going on about the fact that his neighbor overwaters hers,” Kenma said gesturing for him to throw the notebook back.
“Since when do you talk to Akaashi?” Kuroo asked.
“We talk pretty regularly,” he said with a shrug, “I’ve yet to see him drunk though.”
“Id pay to see it,” Kuroo said tossing his notebook back.
“Honestly, same here. Maybe it’s time for another long term bet,” Kenma pointed out.
“To see who can get Akaashi drunk?” Kuroo asked, “I feel like it would be easier if we tried to help each other. I’m not sure we could do it alone.”
Kenma flipped to the next page in the notebook and started transcribing the new information into more digital flash cards, “I hate to admit it, but you’re probably right.”
“We should totally give it a go though,” Kuroo pointed out.
“Hmm, for whatever reason he seems to get pretty competitive against me-“
Kuroo cut him off, “Because he’s mad you’re the better version of him.”
“Hilarious, but what what I was going to say is if we got him into a drinking game against me, I think we could get him,” Kenma pondered.
“I meant it, you know. His whole thing is that he’s smart and holds the team together. You’re basically just him but a better strategist with better technique,” Kuroo pointed out.
“He doesn’t for a second think that. He’s got like five inches on me and a whole lot of athleticism. It’s not like Fukurodani needs a higher level of strategy to get by. They do just fine with their clean athletic plays,” Kenma said, waving them off.
“Maybe he doesn’t need a better technique and strategy for the team, but he’s definitely still annoyed that you’re better than him at the very least with your setting technique. He can’t place backsets even close to your level,” Kuroo insisted.
“Why are you doing this? Oh, you’re trying to butter me up, aren’t you? You aren’t getting out of buying me a milkshake for transcribing your notes,” he said flipping to the next page.
He wouldn’t admit it, but he really didn’t mind transcribing Kuroo’s notes. He was a fast typer and didn’t mind spending time with him, especially if it was doing something that would help him out. Kuroo was without a doubt smart enough to be in his college prep classes, but sometimes he got nervous about it, deciding he wasn’t good enough because he used to be in lower level classes, so Kenma was more than happy to help.
“Yeah, I’m going to go pick them up in like ten minutes,” he said.
It was a little more than ten minutes, but it wasn’t like Kenma was counting or anything. It didn’t take him much longer after Kuroo left to finish out the notebook. He sent Kuroo the link to the notecards and then flopped dramatically onto the bed and started to nod off. He had stayed up too late the night before and was particularly exhausted.
The door flung open, startling Kenma awake but not enough for him to want to get up.
“Hey so I was thinking about Akaa- get off my bed, you oaf,” Kuroo said putting the milkshakes on the nightstand.
“I’m tired though,” Kenma complained, his face smashed into the bedding.
“No the fuck you aren’t,” he said gently smacking Kenma on the back of the head, “You have to drink this milkshake before you go to sleep.”
“Fair point,” mumbled sitting up on the bed, “Duty calls.”
Kenma got up and grabbed his milkshake, the vanilla mint one, and then flopped down across the foot of the bed.
“Hey, my legs go there,” Kuroo protested.
“Not anymore. Get shorter legs next time,” Kenma said, “What were you saying about Akaashi?”
Kuroo considered laying his legs on top of Kenma to make his point, but decided against it and crossed them instead.
“I was disappointed we couldn’t have a drunk Akaashi bet and was trying to think of something to bet on. I was going to say bet on which one of us drunk Akaashi says he likes more, but I guarantee he’d say you,” Kuroo said.
“Oh, I’ll take that bet because I guarantee he says you. No doubt in my mind,” Kenma said.
“You’re crazy, I only ever talk to him at training camps and stuff,” he pointed out.
“Nah, I know it for a fact. What are you wanting to bet?” Kenma asked, confidently.
“I hadn’t thought that far,” Kuroo said, flipping his textbook back open.
“Let’s do that the loser has to pay for 75% of the alcohol instead of 50%,” Kenma suggested.
“Oh great call, now we just have to find a good time to do it,” Kuroo said.
The two had been planning the night for a long time. It seemed like it was going to work perfectly. They managed to get some hard alcohol and a fair amount of snacks. They figured something high in alcohol content should help it along. Besides that, they brainstormed drinking games ahead of time and decided to keep the number of people to five. It would be small enough that he wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. It was all coming together. Tonight would be the night.
They’d be in Kenma’s house as his parents were out of town. The only issue was they had to be somewhat quiet because Kuroo’s dad would absolutely rat them out of he noticed. Most of the time, being neighbors was awesome, but it did come with the occasional downside.
Their guest list was carefully planned. Obviously they had to be there and so did Akaashi, but they invited Bokuto so that he would force Akaashi to go, and Yaku because they decided the person asking the question could bias his answer. Essentially, they were using him as an uninvolved third party, which worked well because he was always more than happy to drink. He was almost able to drink Kuroo under the table which was rather impressive for his size.
At one point during the planning process, Kenma asked, “Doesn’t this seem like a bit of an elaborate plan for a bet? I mean we don’t go this far when we just want to hang out.”
They had a good laugh about it. He wasn’t wrong, but they decided if the night went well, they would try to make it a thing that happened more often. Kenma didn’t like parties because there were way too many people, but he did enjoy having a few drinks with friends occasionally.
So far, it had been going well. Everyone was talking and joking around, having a good time. The group ended up blending really well. The only issue was that Akaashi was the only one not drinking.
“You don’t have to worry about being responsible,” Kuroo pointed out to him, “Between Kenma’s house and mine, we have plenty of places for people to stay the night here.”
“You know what? I’ll do it on one condition, Kenma goes drink for drink with me,” Akaashi said calmly.
Kenma narrowed his eyes. He was a lot smaller than Akaashi and was somewhat of a lightweight. Getting Akaashi drunk was going to take a lot of effort on his part. Was it going to be worth it? He typically didn’t like being drunk because it was uncomfortable. Usually he just caught a small buzz and stopped.
“That seems like a great idea!” Kuroo said, amused, “Right Kenma?”
Kenma, deciding he had to see it though, agreed against his better judgement. They’d put this all together in the hope of witnessing drunk Akaashi in all of his glory. He would power through for the purpose of achieving their goal.
It appeared it was going to be a lot harder for him to get it to work than he thought. He learned two things about Akaashi shortly after. The first was that Akaashi was surprisingly a fan of doing shots. The second was that he was in no way a lightweight. Within the next hour or so, Kenma could start to feel a disconnect between his brain and his mouth when he started talking. It was going to be an interesting night.
They started off by playing a few rounds of Egyptian Ratscrew. The game is fairly easy and straightforward, but involves a quick physical reflex component. Kenma almost always used to win the game due to his impressive card counting ability and fairly good memory, but he was admittedly not in peak mental nor physical state. He was losing pretty bad. He could at least say that Akaashi seemed like he was getting buzzed. A small win. Even so, it was clear that he was getting drunker quicker than Akaashi by a wide margin.
They decided to then switch to the classic party game, Never Have I Ever. They argued over whether or not Kenma had to drink every time Akaashi did for the purpose of the game.
Akaashi was steadfast, “I said I would only drink if Kenma went drink for drink with me. This is no different. So if I have to drink, he does too.”
Kenma mentally groaned. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hang. It was already looking like it was going to be an absolute headache of a morning even if he stopped right then.
Kenma tried to figure out what he was going to do about the strategy of the game. At one point or another, people would be trying to single either him or Akaashi out, meaning he was going to be drinking overtime. His brain wasn’t nearly functional enough to apply that to his decision making process and just decided to feel it out as he went.
The game started out easy and innocent like it always does. “I’ve never been to Sendai,” or “I’ve never broken a bone,” or “I’ve never failed an exam.”
Lucky for Kenma, it seemed like Akaashi hadn’t done many of these things, so he mostly just had to drink for himself. It did seem, however, that Akaashi started to directly cater his statements to get Kenma to drink. This was not within the plan. Kenma needed the opposite to happen. He needed the statements to just hit Akaashi so that he wasn’t the only one of the pair drinking.
“Never have I ever played as a setter,” Kuroo said with a grin. Kenma sent him a glare and took two sips.
“Never have I ever been taller than 182 centimeters,” Yaku said.
“Tell me you’re 180 centimeters,” Kenma said to Akaashi.
“No can do,” he said, taking a sip. Kenma took one as well.
He was beginning to be acutely aware of his finger tips. It was like he could feel the blood in them. He hadn’t been this drunk in a fairly long time, but it seemed at least Akaashi was getting there, too. When it came time for his turn, he couldn’t get his brain to work.
“I uh am only able to think of the stuff I’ve done, uh,” he slurred.
“That phrase should be banned from this game,” Yaku said, “Just google it.”
“Oh hang on,” he said, trying to wade through the sludge in brain, “Never have I ever left the country.”
Akaashi let out a laugh and took a sip. Kenma gave a sigh in disbelief.
“You just said you have never even been to Sendai. How have you left Japan?” he said regrettably taking a sip.
“My dad worked overseas for a bit when I was a kid. We visited him once or twice,” he responded.
“Fuck off,” Kenma said.
“Woah hey now,” Bokuto said, “Let’s keep it civil in here. It’s your turn Akaashi.”
“Never have I ever walked in on someone jacking off,” Akaashi said glaring at Kenma.
Kenma glared back and took a sip.
“Never have I ever been horny enough to jack off at Shinzen high,” Kenma said, fully aware of the fact that he was going to make himself drink with that one.
This was like wielding a vicious sword in one of his games. Sure he was dealing damage, but to do that damage he had to take damage as well. Either way, the get Akaashi drunk mission was working out pretty well. He knew Akaashi would have to drink to that, but he was not expecting the others to all drink as well.
“Wait a minute,” Kuroo said, “Does it count if I wasn’t horny, just bored?”
“Bro what the fuck is wrong with you?” Yaku asked, “Can we go back to Kenma walking in on Akaashi jacking off?”
“Absolutely not,” Kenma said covering his eyes, “Also why on earth would you guys all jack off at a volleyball training camp? Do you have no standards?”
“The real question here is why don’t you,” Bokuto insisted.
“Cheers to that,” Yaku said.
“Oh god can we please get off the topic,” Kenma begged, “I really don’t want to know.”
They did not in fact get off the topic for quite a long time. Kenma knew going into the game that you’re always going to learn a bit too much about your friends during it, and yet, he wasn’t prepared.
He got up to use the bathroom, and he already knew it was going to be a long night. The room was spinning. He ended up staring at himself in the mirror, questioning all of his actions. He felt like he was trapped in fish tank, which he found really funny. He made a pretty fishie, he thought.
He staggered back to see that the topic had thankfully changed. They were arguing about Fukurodani’s uniforms. Yaku pointed out that having three different uniforms was rich kid shit and Akaashi essentially told him that he was just jealous he couldn’t get into Fukurodani.
“Ah, actually I think it’s a great time for the ‘rich kids’ and, due to house rules, Kenma to take a shot,” Akaashi said with a grin.
“You’re both there on scholarship,” Kenma pointed out, “Get outta here with that.”
“Nah, thanks for the suggestion though,” he said pouring three shots, handing one to Kenma and one to Bokuto, “I’ve decided you haven’t had enough to drink.”
Kenma shot Kuroo a glance of desperation. He could only ingest so much alcohol. He took the shot, immediately regretting it. His stomach was turning.
“Hey Akaashi,” Yaku started, realizing that Kenma was quickly heading towards being out of commission, “Do you like Kuroo or Kenma more?”
“Oh easily Kuroo-san,” he said with a smile, “Let’s drink to that, too.”
Kenma had won the bet but at what cost? It was in that moment that he had realized it wasn’t worth the cost of the alcohol.
“Hmm, I feel like I might be hitting the not drinking anymore part of the night,” Kenma said, his mouth filling up with saliva, “Or maybe the not drinking ever again part of the night.”
“Oh come on, I thought we were in this together,” Akaashi said with a fake pout and poured him a shot, “Here, drink up.”
Kenma was going to do it. He was. He couldn’t chicken out, but the second he smelled it, he knew it was going to be an issue. It was a mad dash to bathroom. His body wanted the alcohol out and it was getting its wish whether he liked it or not.
“How it’s going in here,” Kuroo asked with a laugh.
“Why I did I agree that?” Kenma moaned, “You tall muscular assholes and your stupid alcohol tolerance.”
“Your competitiveness and your dedication to proving me wrong may very well be the death of you one day,” he suggested, rather amused.
“Okay, but I did win. I proved you wrong,” he said, looking forlornly at the toilet.
“Was it worth it?” Kuroo asked.
“God no, I think I’m dying. I’m going to need a liver transplant,” Kenma said, trying not to throw up again.
“I’ll go find you a hair tie,” he said laughing as he left the room.
Shortly after, the door creaked open again.
“You’re the best. Thank god, Kuro,” Kenma said looking up.
It wasn’t Kuroo.
“You know, you have could just asked me if I wanted to get drunk and be used as part of a bet instead of constructing an elaborate situation to get me to drink,” Akaashi pointed out, “It would have saved you the moderate alcohol poisoning you’re currently experiencing.”
“To be clear,” Kenma said pausing to throw up again, “You found out what was going on and insisted on getting me to drink way too much as payback instead of telling me off like a normal person?”
“Correct. I plan on going into your kitchen to bang all of the pots and pans together at six in the morning, too,” he said as he turned to leave, “Payback is a bitch, Kozume.”