Chapter Text
Y/N's POV
——
There were only two things you really wanted this summer:
1. Fix your god-awful serve receive form so coach would finally stop breathing down your neck.
2. And maybe, just maybe, flirt with someone who wasn't short, cocky, or emotionally unavailable.
Okay, maybe the second one was more of a delusion than a goal. Still, a girl could dream.
You were a first-year libero for Nekoma's girls volleyball team, and despite being the youngest of the team, you worked your ass off to earn your spot. No one expected a 1st year to start, but you weren't exactly the type to settle for sidelines. And when you weren't practicing with your own team, you somehow always ended up hanging around the boys team, thanks to your unfortunate lifelong friendship with Kuroo Tetsurou.
Your families had been close forever, so you and Kuroo were basically raised together. He was like the annoying older brother you never asked for, except taller and constantly judging your music taste. Still, he let you tag along to games, training camps, and team hangouts. At this point, the boys had gotten used to you, and you were kinda close with Bokuto too—mostly because he had main character energy and you enabled it.
So, on a chill Thursday afternoon, while you lay half-dead on your bedroom floor in a hoodie and mismatched socks, sipping weak iced coffee and doomscrolling Twitter, you weren't expecting your entire summer plans to shift in 0.3 seconds.
It started with a post.
@kuroothegoat:
wish i could go back to this training camp w/ my bros [attached photo: Kuroo flashing a peace sign with a grinning Bokuto and—oh. oh. WHO. was that?]
Your thumb froze on the screen.
The third person in the photo was tall. Lean. Blonde. He had that effortlessly annoyed, too-cool-to-care look that made your stomach drop a little.
You did a double-take, then zoomed in. Then zoomed in again.
"Who is that?" you whispered aloud like you were in a coming-of-age movie and the camera was about to pan out dramatically.
You went straight to the replies.
⸻
@y/ntopsecret (your private account): WOAH WHO IS THAT BLONDE
@ohwhoisyou (Kuroo's spam): okay wtf. u disgust me
@kuroosmells (Bokuto): THATS TSUKIPOOOOO good luck
⸻
Your heart dropped into your stomach. Tsuki-what now? He had a nickname?
You didn't waste another second. You opened your texts and launched into chaos.
——
you: KUROO WHO IS THAT
kuroo: NO.
you: PLEASE I NEED THAT MAN. HE IS SO BAD.
kuroo: UGH FINE.
that's tsukishima kei.
that's my bro.
you: PUT ME ON.
kuroo: fuck no bro
you: PLEASEEEEEEEE
kuroo: OKAY FINE.
all i'm gonna do is drop the twitter.
you: what abt that number 😈????
kuroo: OMG NO.
will u leave me alone if i do..
you: YESYES I WILL
kuroo: okay fine. the twitter is @tsukishimakei_
you: wow so unique and different
kuroo: his number is xxxxxxxx.
good luck bro he's the nonchalant final boss
you: he can't be that bad right...
——
Oh, he could.
You opened your messages and typed faster than you ever had in your life.
——
you: hiii, is this tsukishima kei?
tsukishima: yea, who r u?
you: i'm kuroo's friend :)
tsukishima: ok
——
...That was it?
You stared at the screen. Blinked. Read it again.
Just "ok."
Who was this man?
A walking brick wall? A text message sentient being? A ghost?
You immediately texted Kuroo.
——
you: wtf bro does he know he's alive
kuroo: can't say i didn't warn you
you: wait when's y'all next training camp
kuroo: it's all next week
you: ...can i come 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 PLEASE
kuroo: BRO he DOESN'T want ur ass
well yaku is recovering rn... and he might need someone to play in his spot if his injury starts acting up...
so i mean I GUESS u can come
i'll check with the coaches, but they usually don't mind
you: YESSS LAWDDDD i'm ready to see fine shyt
kuroo: ur so weird bro
——
You fell back onto your pillow, phone resting on your face.
You were going to training camp.
With Kuroo.
With Bokuto.
With Tsukishima Kei.
And sure, maybe he only said one word to you. Maybe he wasn't interested. Maybe he was emotionally repressed or allergic to emojis. But still.
Challenge. Accepted.