Work Text:
⠀
⠀
Kei steps out of the warm gym into the freezing evening. Snow crunches under his feet. The lamp-lit landscape glows white.
The other third years follow; lately, it takes them longer than usual to leave. In Kei’s head, a suspiciously Kuroo-like voice babbles about approaching graduation and youth’s sentimentality. Cringing, he shakes it off as they move through heaps of fallen snow. Yamaguchi falls into step with him, Yachi mutter-rambles about tomorrow’s tasks, the two simpletons argue.
“I was totally better than you today, Bakageyama!”
“Are your eyes broken? You half-assed half a match!”
And so on. Then, a moment of silence as they crouch down simultaneously—seconds later, snowballs fly through the air.
Kei snorts. “Toddlers.”
Yachi squeals. “In the dark?! What if a rock hides inside one of those and hits someone’s head, and blood splatters everywhere, and we have to call an ambulance, and—“
“Sounds like a one-star horror movie.”
Although the fight does offer good evening entertainment. Kei watches with imaginary popcorn in his hands as something hits his shoulder. He turns around to see Yamaguchi, now a few meters away, one arm lifted, a half-sheepish grin on his face.
Kei raises an eyebrow. “Really? That wasn’t even a good throw.”
“I’m saving the best ones, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi replies, voice tinted with a captain’s confidence.
Professional busybody Hinata whips his head around to ask, “Ohh, are you joining?!”, only for a snowball to explode in his face.
“Pay attention, idiot!” Kageyama yells.
Smirking at Hinata’s outrage, Kei crouches down. The cold bites through his gloves. “Sure, we’ll join. Make sure to cry after your loss.”
With that, the fight continues, a petrified Yachi somehow getting dragged into it. They must look ridiculously childish. Kei decides not to complain this time—he has his fun hitting bullseyes.
⠀
⠀
⠀