Work Text:
"So, Asahi. You chose Karasuno for the uniforms too, right?"
Asahi blinked as he took in the question that his boyfriend had just asked him, tried to make sense of it, and responded with a very eloquent "Huh?"
"The uniforms," Nishinoya repeated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. (Which it absolutely was not.) "I mean, you're planning on going into fashion, right? And the uniforms here are easily the best in the prefecture. There's no way that's a coincidence!"
"Well actually… it kinda was?" Asahi scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "I-I mean, this was the local option for me, y'know? I always just assumed I'd go here, so I just kinda... did. I mean, yeah, I felt kinda lucky to be heading toward a school with a decent volleyball team, and I like the uniforms well enough, but...." he shrugged.
Asahi wasn't sure it was possible to have a wrong answer as to why one chose to attend a certain high school, but the way Nishinoya was looking at him, he was starting to think it might be.
"So the uniforms had nothing to do with it?"
"Not really..."
"At all?"
"S-sorry?"
Nishinoya sighed. "Have you at least taken time to consider them, Mr. Tokyo Fashion School Applicant?"
"Not in depth," Asahi admitted. "I mean, if I'd had thought them ugly, I probably would've chosen somewhere else, but they were fine, so—"
"Fine?" Nishinoya repeated, suddenly way up in Asahi's face. "You think they're fine?! The girls' uniforms are S tier! That's way more than fine! The cream sweater that accentuates everything with or without the blazer overtop! The skirt that's just brushing fingertip length! The cute red bow! It's the perfect marriage between cute and mature!"
"I suppose it is," Asashi replied. "I just never really gave it much thought."
Nishinoya considered this for a moment, and shrugged, stepping back out of Asahi's personal space. "Well, I guess that's to be expected," he decided. "You are more of a guy's guy, huh? But even still, you've gotta be able to see objective fact."
Asahi privately wondered if there could be such a thing as an objective take on the ranking of uniform aesthetics. But it was so entrancing, watching his boyfriend be so worked up on the topic, that he didn't wish to break the spell by asking.
"What about the gakuran then?" Nishinoya wondered. "I mean, you like guys, so you've gotta have considered them at least a little, right? And while they're maybe just A-tier compared to the girls' uniforms, they're still pretty cool, right? Like... sure, the right blazer can look really mature, but they're also easy to get wrong and make everyone look like they're playing dress-up. Not to mention how the patches kinda ruin the whole dapper effect. But a black gakuran? How much more damn classic can you get? Plus, it's not like there's a ton of things that'd look equally good on your body type and mine. And yeah, we style it differently underneath, but man, when we've both got them done up? Magic."
Asahi could feel a blush creeping into his cheeks at the thought of people—Nishinoya in particular—finding him attractive in his gakuran.
"Wow," he breathed. "It almost sounds like you should be the one getting into fashion, not me."
Nishinoya shrugged. "Nah. There's too much I'd want to do than to settle into that field for too long. Besides, I'd probably look way creepier in twenty years if my life's goal was still to try and make the most god-tier school uniform, huh?"
"Probably," Asahi had to admit.
"But I'm right, aren't I?" Nishinoya prodded him gently. "I look damn good in my gakuran, and so do you. And Suga and Ryuu, and even Shouyo for that matter!"
Asahi closed his eyes, thinking of each of his teammates, and imagining how their school's gakuran interacted with each in turn. How it worked as a blank palate, but in a way that was very classic and refined. And how their relaxed school uniform allowed for a bit of personality to shine through, but creating a more professional look was just as easy as closing the gakuran and standing united.
Blazers didn't allow such freedom; whatever was being worn underneath would be more easily seen, unless also hidden under the dress shirt. They also added more of a Western flare, which was nice in some settings, but felt out of place when he thought of Nishinoya, and the same with Tanaka. Not so with the gakuran, though. No, it suited them perfectly.
Opening his eyes, he took in his boyfriend once more. How the difference between proud student and manly punk was as easy as opening and closing the gakuran, and how both spoke of Nishinoya entirely. Not to mention how the uniform fit on him. Perhaps not as dapper as a suit—and damn, Asahi wanted to see him in formal attire so much in that moment—but in an everyday sense, the uniform matched casual and formal in a way that still let his natural beauty shine.
He didn't know how to share all that outwardly—how to process the intangible wonder of Nishinoya's balance of everything into a form that his boyfriend would understand. Or how to voice his thoughts without letting the emotions he could feel tugging at the thoughts overwhelm him.
"Yeah, you're right," he breathed at last.
"Of course I am!" Nishinoya grinned. "Though that was a long bit of gears turning for you. What, did you have a moment of illumination or something?"
Asahi flushed. "Well... I.... might have been thinking about how good you'd look in a suit..."
"A suit, huh?" Nishinoya considered for a moment, then poked Asahi right in the chest. "Well, you better design a damn good one for me, then. That way, when we're too old for gakuran, I'll have a new cool thing to grow into. All right?"
"Yeah," he agreed.
"Good," Nishinoya declared. "But no wearing suits too much yet, okay? We've only got a few months left of you in that gakuran, and Kyoko-san in her uniform too, and I wanna drink in those sights as much as I can, got it?"
"Definitely," Asahi agreed. After all, suits were forever and could be worn at any age. But school uniforms like gakuran were only appropriate in a small sliver of time, during a few precious years of youth.
Perhaps he'd done wrong in never appreciating the uniforms as fashion before, despite his general interest in the field. Nishinoya's insights had certainly given him something to think about as he considered where, precisely, he wanted his future career to go. But then again, perhaps there was something wonderful in the everyday becoming invisible, too.
In either case, Nishinoya was right: there were only a few months left to enjoy school uniforms as part of his everyday, and to appreciate how they fit everyone around him—and Nishinoya especially.
After all, Nishinoya had been correct about that as well: even if there was nothing wrong about choosing the local school as Asahi's school of choice, there was nothing wrong about Nishinoya prioritizing the uniforms either.
And this one suited both of them perfectly.