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It was rare for Futakuchi to develop an interest in someone. Despite that, Semi had always caught his eye at tournaments. His demeanour and good looks were often the subject of Futakuchi’s attention throughout the last two years.
Futakuchi was content with admiring Semi from afar and had no plans to change that - so it was purely spontaneous when he finally decided to start a conversation with him.
Maybe it was because he knew he had nothing to lose since it was Semi’s last tournament, or perhaps he was only looking to entertain himself in between matches. In any case, when he spotted the pinch server sitting alone, he didn’t back away from the opportunity to approach him.
Futakuchi could sense the gloom from across the hall. Semi was sitting on a bench, forearms resting on his thighs as he stared down at the floor. It didn’t surprise him to see that Semi was upset. He’d caught the end of Shiratorizawa’s last match. Semi had missed a serve - after a series of average ones, no less.
Futakuchi noticed a bottle of water placed on a seat nearby. The owner didn’t seem to be around, so he moved to inspect the bottle and lightly fiddled with the lid. Once he deduced that it was unopened, he made his way in Semi’s direction. He figured whoever the water belonged to, could probably do without it.
Semi didn’t realise anyone had walked up to him until a pair of feet and a water bottle appeared in his line of sight. His momentary confusion caused his eyebrows to furrow. He raised his head to see Dateko’s wing spiker looking down at him with a small smile.
Much like Futakuchi, Semi also felt somewhat drawn to him. At first glance Futakuchi seemed like a jerk, but he could tell there was more to him than that. Semi was especially intrigued by him during their previous tournament, and Futakuchi had occasionally been on his mind since then.
Semi had to prevent himself from reacting visibly. He certainly wasn’t expecting Futakuchi to be the one to initiate anything.
“Here.” Futakuchi offered him the water bottle.
Semi matched his smile and accepted it from him. “Thanks… Futakuchi, right?” He asked, playing it cool.
Futakuchi failed to respond immediately after hearing Semi say his name, his attraction towards the other heightening. Semi’s voice was deeper and more distinct than he remembered. It almost made him lose his confidence and start questioning his decision to approach him.
“Yeah,” he managed to reply before the silence became awkward. “Futakuchi Kenji,” he introduced himself as he sat down. “Ran away from your team?” he guessed, skipping over any possible small talk.
Semi’s hand tightened around the bottle. “I didn't want to ruin the mood,” he explained simply.
“Understandable...” Futakuchi said. He knew how it felt to be disappointed in his individual performance despite the victory of his team.
“But the day isn’t over yet, you know?” Futakuchi folded his arms over his chest loosely. “If you're gonna regret something, regret it later,” he finished, the carefree tone of his voice easing the weight off of what he was saying and making it seem like he didn’t totally care.
Semi was used to the partial lack of respect from someone younger than him. It usually annoyed him when it was Shirabu, but he didn’t mind it coming from Futakuchi. Futakuchi’s flippant behaviour wasn’t specific to Semi, but rather an embracement of his easy-going personality.
Semi turned to face him. When they made eye contact, he only stared. He was still coming to terms with the fact that Futakuchi was actually talking to him.
Futakuchi quirked his eyebrow, prompting Semi to speak. “You’re giving me advice when we’re about to play against each other?”
Futakuchi’s lips tugged upwards. “Why not? My team will win either way.”
A small laugh escaped from Semi as he appreciated Futakuchi’s confidence. “That's not what I meant…” he trailed off. “You don’t seem like the type to be nice for no reason.”
His words ignited a flame within Futakuchi. He’d been waiting for it to be lit since the moment he saw him.
“You’re mostly right about that. But,” he paused, holding eye contact, “I'm nice to pretty boys.”
Futakuchi grinned in delight as Semi’s cheeks reddened and his eyes shifted to the side. He forever got a kick out of catching people off guard.
Semi internally cursed at him for continuing to watch him as he struggled to compose himself. He then cleared his throat. “Ah, I see.” He returned his gaze to Futakuchi. “You’re trying to play dirty by distracting me,” he said jokingly.
Futakuchi leant towards him slightly, eyes crinkled in amusement. “Is it working?”
“Maybe a bit,” Semi replied with a smile that caused Futakuchi’s stomach to stir. He already knew Semi was captivating, but being up close and engaging with him only further solidified that fact.
“Hmm, then,” Futakuchi started. “If you miss another serve, you can just blame it on me,” he playfully suggested.
“And if I don't?” Semi countered.
Futakuchi only gave him a lighthearted shrug, effectively passing the ball to Semi.
Semi nodded slowly. “Alright. I have something in mind,” he responded, piquing Futakuchi’s interest.
“Let’s hear it then.”
“Don’t worry,” the pinch server replied. His eyes shamelessly travelled over Futakuchi’s face, lingering on each of his features. “You’ll find out.”
A faint blush appeared on Futakuchi’s face. He suddenly felt the gravity of the situation. He hadn’t expected his flirting to be reciprocated - especially not so seriously.
The possibility of something actually coming out of their interaction was all Futakuchi could think about as he headed back to his team. He giggled into the back of his hand before quickly forcing the smile off of his face.
Futakuchi cleared his throat. “Volleyball,” he muttered under his breath in an attempt to refocus.
When he reunited with his team, there wasn’t much time until warmups. And by the time the match started, Semi was no longer on his mind.
It was only when Semi got subbed in as a pinch server that Futakuchi remembered their conversation.
As Semi stepped onto the court, his eyes drifted to meet with Futakuchi’s. They shared a slight, smug smile before Semi began his serve routine.
There was a lot riding on his serve; his pride and redemption, the momentum of the game, and to a lesser extent - what he’d planned with Futakuchi.
Semi assumed nothing would ever happen between him and Futakuchi given the poor timing of tournaments and his own hesitation in approaching him. He'd been okay with that, but now that the chance had presented itself, he was determined to grab it.
Futakuchi readied himself to help receive Semi’s serve from his position in the back row.
The whistle sounded and Semi gracefully tossed the ball up into the air. His feet left the ground as he jumped and sucked in his breath. He struck the ball with the greatest force he could muster, sending it over the net and landing a service ace.
Futakuchi stared a few feet away from him where the ball had hit the floor. He'd barely been able to react due to the speed of Semi’s serve.
The flags pointed down, signifying Semi’s scored point. Futakuchi let out a burst of laughter rooted in both frustration and admiration.
He looked up and across the court to find Semi grinning at him. Futakuchi scoffed, though the smile stayed on his face. A bout of competitiveness coursed through him and strengthened his resolve to receive the next one.
Futakuchi was able to get the ball up on Semi’s third serve. It led to a key point for Dateko, but they weren’t able to gain consecutive points in the same way that their opponents could.
The match ended with a final spike from Ushijima that seemed to make fun of their iron wall of blockers. As the referee’s whistle shot through his ears, Futakuchi’s heart rapidly beat against his chest, each thud more painful than the one before it.
Although he didn’t make it obvious, Futakuchi loved his older teammates a lot. He felt a sense of duty to give back to them, and that only made the elimination hurt more. He’d lost his last chance to make it to nationals with them.
Semi decided to give him space for as long as he could. When he finally excused himself from his team, he made his way back to the spot they were in earlier. Futakuchi was already there, zoned out as he stared ahead.
Semi was reluctant to approach him, unsure if Futakuchi would want to see someone from the team that just defeated him. Still, he slowly stepped towards him.
Futakuchi turned his head to look at Semi and tried his best to smile at him.
“Sorry,” Semi uttered as he moved to sit down, unsure of what exactly he was apologising for. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “Bad timing, right?”
Futakuchi relaxed, his face softening from his tense expression. Semi had a comforting presence, and his voice was a gateway to his inner warmth.
“Not necessarily,” Futakuchi said. He gave Semi a more sincere smile. “Nice serves, by the way,” he praised, his cheekiness starting to return.
Semi scratched the hair at the back of his neck with his index finger, suddenly feeling shy. It flustered him to hear Futakuchi compliment him so genuinely yet with the usual silly edge to his voice. He found it oddly alluring.
“Thank you,” he replied softly.
His thoughts wandered as he recalled Futakuchi’s interactions with his team after they'd lost. Semi had caught a glimpse of the love Futakuchi had stored inside of him, and he was eager to see more of it.
As he gazed at Futakuchi, Semi’s curiosity bloomed into the beginnings of his affection for him. He offered him a kind word, “I'm sure the third years believe you did more than enough.”
Futakuchi’s eyes widened in surprise at the specific insight he most definitely hadn’t hinted at to anyone.
“What?” Semi was somewhat pleased by his telling reaction. “I'm a setter, you know. I'm good at reading people.”
Futakuchi let out a breath of laughter. He didn’t have it in him to deny Semi’s observation. “Well…” He sighed, his sight lowering. “Even if they do, putting in effort and not seeing the results is so unsatisfying,” he mumbled, expressing his discontentment.
“True,” Semi agreed in a quiet voice. He then playfully nudged Futakuchi’s foot with his. “I could help satisfy you.”
His flirtatious words successfully distracted Futakuchi from his negative emotions. “Oh?” He looked up at Semi with a thrilled smile. “I'm interested.”
A humoured smile played on Semi’s lips as he reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a small piece of paper.
“I figured you wouldn’t have your phone on you,” Semi spoke, holding the note between his fingers as he passed it to him. He held his breath in anticipation.
Futakuchi’s eyes flickered from Semi’s face to the string of numbers written across the paper. He tried to ignore the incessant fluttering in his stomach as he took the note from him.
“No corny pickup line?” Futakuchi remarked. He intended to speak in a teasing tone, but his happiness was too evident in his voice for him to pull it off.
“That sounds more like your area of expertise,” Semi commented. He grinned upon seeing Futakuchi laugh, glad that he seemed to have cheered up a bit.
“I'm not sure if I should be offended or hate how right you are about me,” the wing spiker mused.
“Futakuchi!” Moniwa suddenly called from across the room, causing both of them to jump as if they had been caught doing something wrong. “Everyone's ready to leave.”
Moniwa’s attention had already diverted before Futakuchi could reply, so he turned back to face Semi. “Sorry.”
Semi shook his head lightly. “I should probably be getting back to my team, too.”
A silence fell between them as neither wanted to leave each other’s company.
The pinch server was about to speak, but he stopped abruptly when Futakuchi placed his wrist on Semi’s shoulder and leant close enough to fill half of his vision.
Semi’s heart jumped into his throat due to the sudden proximity. The heat of Futakuchi’s wrist pressing against him, combined with the close-up view of his face, overwhelmed Semi’s senses. He couldn’t help but fixate on Futakuchi’s eyes and admire how beautiful they were.
“Thanks,” Futakuchi said in a low voice. He tapped Semi’s cheek with the note. “I'll text you later.”
Semi swallowed. “Y-Yeah,” he stuttered, and then blushed from embarrassment when Futakuchi clearly found it funny.
Semi took hold of his forearm. He lifted Futakuchi off of his shoulder and pushed him back gently, fingers still wrapping around his arm. The small increase in distance allowed Semi’s confidence to return and enabled him to give Futakuchi a better response. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
Futakuchi smiled slyly as he leant further back. “Or what?”
Semi half-laughed half-scoffed at the other's mischievousness. “Or some other pretty boy might come and distract me instead,” he teased, lightly shoving Futakuchi's arm away as he let go of him.
Futakuchi pouted, though amusement showed on his face. His expression softened as he spoke tenderly, “We can’t have that.”
The duality of Futakuchi’s behaviour had too strong an effect on Semi. Even after the two had parted ways, his heart refused to settle back into its normal rhythm.
Semi had also left a lasting impact on Futakuchi, whose team wouldn’t stop pestering him after learning Semi was the reason for his strangely good mood.
Semi’s entrance into Futakuchi’s life and the beginning of their relationship had made coping with the loss significantly easier for him. Although it was still painful, Futakuchi had at least one reason to look back on that day fondly.
For Semi, experiencing the end of his volleyball career was also made easier with Futakuchi by his side. He didn’t realise it at the time, but his final prefectural tournament had gifted him something that would bring him further happiness and last far longer than volleyball.