Chapter Text
1: Ushijima
Despite what his single-minded drive in volleyball might suggest, Ushijima was not particularly competitive by nature. He was always practical rather than prideful, willing to back down from an argument or a challenge if he realized he was wrong. It made him an excellent person to talk to about personal matters— always objective and honest, never taking a side he didn’t believe in— but Kuroo privately wished he was a little easier to rile up, especially during Mario Kart.
“You drive like an old man, Ushijima.”
“If by that you mean ‘safely and at an appropriate speed’, then I would agree.”
Kuroo sighed. He wished Ushijima would get a little more into it for once. It wasn’t that he wasn’t trying, on the contrary, what really annoyed Kuroo was that Ushijima kept winning. If he would just lose his head a little bit, maybe he would slip up, but while the rest of the room was overtaken with curses, shouts, and the occasional attempt to hijack the opponents’ controllers (a strategy now declared illegal by unanimous decision after the notorious Vodka and Scented Candles Incident), Ushijima sat quietly and calmly, proudly leading Yoshi to victory again and again. Kuroo, meanwhile, had made it his singleminded goal to get the man to break.
“Aww, did you fall off again, Ushi? Do we need to do an easier track for you?”
“I was a lap ahead of you anyway, Kuroo. I’m still winning.”
So, condescending mockery did nothing. “Uh-oh, it looks like Oikawa’s gaining on you. And in the last lap, too. Lookin’ bad for you, man.”
“The past two laps, Oikawa has fallen off the track at this next turn. I think he will again, so I’m not worried.”
Applying pressure didn’t seem to help, either. Ushijima pulled past the finish line first, closely followed by Daichi, then Kuroo, then Oikawa (who had indeed fallen off the track). Bokuto came in last yet again.
“Hacks! Hacks I say,” he joked. Ushijima scoffed at his suggestion.
“I don’t see how that would work. We are using the same console.”
Now, this might work.
“Hacks, huh,” Kuroo teased, “he has a point. You’ve won a lot of races, big guy. If I didn’t know you better, I’d be getting suspicious.”
Ushijima looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed.
“You know I wouldn’t do that. I keep winning because I’m better at this game than all of you.”
Oikawa gasped at that (very factual) insult. Bokuto pulled an imaginary dagger from his heart. Daichi seemed to catch what Kuroo was going for.
“I hate to say it, but I don’t know. Should we switch controllers, just to be safe?”
“Fine. That’s fine with me. Nothing will change. I will still beat all of you, easily.”
Now he was really getting into it. Daichi and Ushijima exchanged controllers, and started the next round. Through skill alone, Daichi managed to win.
“Woah!” Bokuto gasped. “Rigged controller! I can’t believe you would do this to us, Ushijima.”
Oikawa clicked his tongue.
“It’s always the ones you least expect, huh?”
Ushijima’s voice boomed across the room.
“One more round.” He was staring at the screen with an intensity that none of the others had seen on his face outside of a volleyball court.
Kuroo grinned to himself. Now the game was getting interesting.
2: Oikawa
“Tettsuuuun!” Oikawa’s affectionate nickname, shouted from the other side of the dorm, jolted Kuroo out of his focused state.
“Whaaaat? I’m doing homework!”
“Can you come help me? I need to pick something to wear!”
“Get someone else to do it!”
“It’s for a date! You’re the only one here who understands my natural sex appeal!”
Kuroo rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t hear a ‘please’!”
Daichi’s very tired-looking face popped into the room.
“Kuroo, for the love of God, just go help him and stop yelling.”
Kuroo got up from his seat, but not without a dramatic sigh, and a glare at Daichi to convey that he was doing it because he wanted to anyway, not because he was told to. That’ll show him.
As soon as he entered the room, Kuroo could sense Oikawa’s distress. Clothes were everywhere, sorted into piles based on criteria that Kuroo couldn’t even begin to guess at. To say that Oikawa looked frustrated would be an understatement.
“Please, just help me out.”
“Well, let’s see what we’re working with.” Kuroo took an appraising look around the room. Oikawa dressed well, and he could pull off practically anything, but there were a few pieces that confused him. He picked up a pair of what seemed to be... plaid shorts. Huh.
“I have no idea what to— those? You think those? Are you sure?” Oikawa’s voice was frantic. He wasn’t usually this nervous for dates. Kuroo knew he shouldn’t take advantage of his dear friend’s state of panic. But still...
“Oh yeah, absolutely. Gotta show off those legs, and the pattern adds... visual interest?”
Kuroo’s bullshit explanation seemed to work well enough for Oikawa. He took the shorts with seemingly no hesitation. Kuroo looked around the room again, scanning for something that would go well— or poorly— with the hideous shorts. A bundle of lime green fuzz caught his eye, and he picked it up to reveal a soft, stripy sweater. Jackpot.
“Here, this will work great.” Oikawa seemed a little more doubtful this time.
“Are you sure? Shorts with a sweater seems weird. And the prints don’t really go together.”
Shit. He had to justify this choice, and fast.
“It’s... contrast, you know? It’ll stand out. With the tan shorts, you need a pop of color, right? Plus, it’s cozy, and you seem nervous, so you might as well go for comfort.”
Oikawa took the sweater without a word. Kuroo tried to give him his least mischievous smile.
“Now, about the shoes...”
Finally, Oikawa stepped out of his room. From the couch, Bokuto collapsed into uncontrollable laughter. Ushijima, sitting beside him, seemed very unsure of how to respond to what he was seeing. Despite having chosen each piece himself, Kuroo could not have possibly been prepared for the outfit in its full glory. He joined Bokuto in his hysterics. The noise brought Daichi out of his room, and soon enough, he was laughing, too. Oikawa didn’t seem amused. He looked downright enraged.
“Kuroo Tetsurou, I absolutely hate you.”
The door slammed, and Kuroo heard the lock click behind Oikawa as he stormed back inside. Kuroo tried to control his laughter as he knocked on the door.
“Oikawa, I’m sorry, let me in and I’ll help you for real this time.”
“I'm never trusting you again.”
“I’m sorry, I really am, you just seemed so stressed, I thought it would be good to get you to loosen up.”
The door unlocked. Kuroo took it as a sign of forgiveness and stepped back into Oikawa’s room. The man looked awful. He was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, still wearing that sweater, looking like he was questioning every choice he had ever made. Kuroo sat down on the bed next to him.
“I’ve never seen you like this before a date. You’re a wreck, man. What’s up?”
Oikawa’s eyes were still fixed on the ceiling.
“Kuroo, I know I date a lot, okay? I like flirting, I like being flirted with. It doesn’t have to mean anything, you know? They’re people I like enough to get coffee with, maybe hook up with, but it won’t go anywhere. It doesn’t mean anything.”
He nodded, confused. Oikawa looked at him with desperate eyes.
“I've known this guy for a while now, and... I like him a lot, Kuroo. I really, really want this one to mean something.”
That made sense.
“Okay, okay, get up. I’m gonna actually help you pick something out.” Oikawa brightened.
“I knew it, you really do love me.”
“Let’s not push it.”
“Rude!”
This time, when Oikawa stepped out of his room, he was met with a low whistle instead of Bokuto’s laughter.
“Damn, alright, this one’s a lot better. This one definitely works for you.”
Ushijima nodded his agreement. Daichi pretended to fan himself. While Oikawa basked in the flattery, Kuroo grinned with pride.
“I’m heading out now, wish me luck!” Oikawa strutted towards the door with far more confidence than he had before.
“I hope you have a nice time.”
“Go get ‘em, tiger!”
“Stay safe! No glove, no love! Establish a safeword!”
Kuroo just smiled and waved. The outfit did look good. Maybe not as good as his first choice, but still.
3: Bokuto
Sure, it was childish. But that was how you really got to Bokuto. When he was in a good mood, the man could shake off practically anything, but somehow, playground insults really cut him deep. Which was why Kuroo was running as fast as he could from Bokuto, who had just been informed that he was no longer invited to Kuroo’s birthday party.
“You son of a bitch, get back here!”
Kuroo cackled.
“Come catch me first, butthead!”
“Excuse me? EXCUSE ME?”
Oh shit, that one had landed too. Kuroo ran even faster, and laughed even harder, as Bokuto continued chasing him through the park. They probably looked like idiots, but Kuroo didn’t care. It was hard to focus on dignity when he was running for his life. No one remembered how the conflict had started. Ushijima had decided to eat his lunch outside since the weather was nice, Daichi had suggested they all go to the park and make a picnic of it, and somehow the excitement of the first warm day of Spring had awakened a child in the two technically-adult men who were now careening through the peacefulness of nature. Kuroo’s foot hit a rock, and he stumbled. He caught himself just in time to keep running, but Bokuto was gaining on him. He yelped, he sprinted as hard as he could, but—
CRASH!
He felt Bokuto’s arms wrap around his waist as he tackled him with all his might. Kuroo really had to stop picking fights with absolutely jacked guys who didn’t know their own strength. Well, one guy in particular. As the two hit the ground, he felt the wind get knocked out of his body. Bokuto seemed to realize that he was gasping for breath, and let up some of his weight.
“Shit, bro, I’m sorry,” he managed to force out between the laughter and panting. “Are you good? I keep forgetting how lanky you are.”
“I— (gasp) I’m not (gasp) lanky, you’re ju— (gasp) you’re just heavy.”
Bokuto helped him up from the ground with a smile. They started making their way back to their group.
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m so strong. You should’ve thought of that before you started a fight.”
“I didn’t start shit, and you know it.”
“No man, seriously, you said I wasn’t invited to your birthday party. Fighting words.”
Kuroo laughed.
“I was joking. Obviously, you’re invited to my birthday party.”
“I better be. Never say that to me again. You know it would kill me if you didn’t invite me to your birthday party.”
They grinned at each other.
“I know it. Don’t worry, I'm giving you a blanket invitation forever. If I ever don’t invite you, just show up anyway, I'll always want you around.”
Bokuto looked genuinely touched by the sentiment, and wrapped an arm around Kuroo's shoulder. When they got back to the picnic table, their roommates were still pretending not to know them.
“Don’t worry guys, we’ve made up. Bokuto is allowed at my birthday party again.”
“Oh, well, what a relief.”
4: Daichi
Daichi Sawamura liked to think of himself as a pretty patient guy. Sure, he could get mad, and he could lay down the law when he needed to, but high school had taught him that he could take quite a lot of absolute tomfoolery before he really lost it.
Unfortunately for Daichi, Tetsuro Kuroo liked to think of himself as a man capable of quite a lot of absolute tomfoolery.
Kuroo was shocked when he came home to find an unfamiliar woman sitting on the couch, looking a little out of place.
“Uh, hi, have we met?”
The woman— probably about their age, actually— jumped at his voice.
“Oh! Sorry to intrude, I’m Yui Michimiya, I’m a friend of Daichi’s.”
“Tetsurou Kuroo, good to meet you.”
He smiled as he appraised Michimiya. She seemed nice, as much as one could after one sentence. Short hair, soft eyes, an approachable smile, and a strong physique— maybe not Kuroo’s type, but she was definitely pretty. Hadn’t she said she was Daichi’s friend? The name didn’t sound familiar. Kuroo didn’t think Daichi had ever mentioned her before. She had certainly never visited. But Daichi had been going out for coffee pretty frequently these days...
Oh.
Ohohoho.
Daichi came back into the living room with two cups of tea to find Kuroo and Michimiya making easy conversation. He and Kuroo locked eyes. Daichi shot him a look that Kuroo knew to be his please-behave-just-this-once face. Kuroo returned with his gleeful no-I-will-not-behave-because-you-can’t-yell-at-me-when-we-have-company grin.
“Daichi, I can’t believe you didn’t introduce me to your friend!”
Daichi took a deep breath.
“Sorry about that. Michimiya, this is Kuroo, my roommate. Kuroo, this is Michimiya. She’s a friend from Karasuno. Don’t you have homework to be doing?”
“Homework? When we have a guest?” Kuroo scoffed, “I never thought you were so inhospitable, Sawamura. So tell me, how long have you two known each other?”
Michimiya, blissfully unaware of the shenanigans that were surely afoot, began to tell Kuroo of their times together in high school. He listened intently, asked plenty of questions, and was overall very polite, aside from the way he ignored all of Daichi’s attempts to shut down the conversation.
The front door opened again.
“Ushijima,” Kuroo called, “have you meet Michimiya? She’s Daichi’s friend.”
Ushijima gave her a short but polite hello and went on his way. Not at all what Kuroo was hoping for.
“She was the captain of the Karasuno girls’ team!” Count on volleyball to get Ushijima’s attention.
“Really? I believe you competed against the Shiratorizawa women’s team once.” Michimiya shuddered at the memory.
“Yeah, it didn’t go too well. We were lucky to take even one set.”
“I’m told you didn’t score much, but your receives were remarkable. Tell me, how did you handle—“
As Ushijima interrogated the poor woman about her former team’s techniques, Kuroo met Daichi’s eyes. He wiggled his eyebrows at a frankly alarming speed before interrupting the conversation.
“So, Michimiya, you’ve known Daichi for a while, huh? Are you two close?”
She seemed startled at the question.
“I mean, we didn’t talk too much after graduation, but we got back in touch recently to—“
Just then, Bokuto came out of the shower with a towel around his waist. Daichi closed his eyes and counted to ten.
“Oh! New face! Hey, who’s this?”
Michimiya did an admirable job of maintaining eye contact as she introduced herself.
“Bokuto, I think this may be the friend who’s been taking Daichi out for coffee so often these days,” Kuroo said. He looked at Michimiya, who nodded somewhat sheepishly. Bokuto’s eyes widened.
“So are you two friends, or like, friends? Or, yknow, frieeeends? Or—“
Daichi promptly cut him off by physically shoving him in the direction of his room.
“Go put some clothes on. Now. Michimiya, I’m so sorry—“
“Oh my god, no way!”
Oikawa’s voice cut through the conversation.
“Oikawa, hi! I didn’t expect to see you here!” Daichi looked confused.
“You two know each other?”
Oikawa winked at him.
“I made a point to get to know all the girls’ teams in the prefecture.”
“Of course. Anyway, I’m glad we’re all getting along, but could we please—“
“I haven’t talked to Michimiya in ages! We have to catch up! So, did you end up getting them to go to morning practices? I know you had a hard time—”
Knowing he had lost all hope of regaining control of the situation, Daichi tapped Kuroo on the shoulder and gestured for him to follow him into the kitchen. Once there, he closed the door behind him. From the look on Daichi’s face, Kuroo had a feeling he was in for a hell of a lecture.
“Hey, it’s not my fault that she wants to meet your friends, we’re a charming bunch.”
Daichi didn’t seem amused. If anything, he seemed desperate.
“Why do you have to make things difficult? Can I not have one nice conversation without someone derailing it? She’s a nice girl, can you not just let us be?”
It was Kuroo’s turn to be annoyed.
“How could we not be curious? You never told us you were seeing anyone! And honestly, imagine how must she feel, turning up to your house to find out that none of your friends know about her!”
At that, Daichi snapped.
“We are not going out! We are not hooking up! She and I have been talking about going back to Karasuno to help out the new team. She has a lovely boyfriend, and she is not interested in me at all, so I can imagine,” Daichi gritted his teeth, “that all your... implications,” he took a step closer to Kuroo, “would make her a little,” step, “bit,” step, “uncomfortable.”
Kuroo gulped, out of both fear and shame. He hadn’t considered that he might be upsetting her. And damn, Daichi could be scary.
“I’m really sorry. I... I misread that situation.”
Daichi didn’t break his stern gaze.
“And how are you going to fix it?”
“I’ll clear things up with the other guys, and I’ll apologize to her for the trouble.”
“Good.”
Laughter rang out from the other room, so it seemed that Michimiya was having a nice time in spite of everything. Daichi let out a long breath and stepped away from Kuroo. They stood in the kitchen for a few more minutes, before Bokuto yelled to them from the other room.
“Guys, Michimiya’s leaving! Quit being assholes and say goodbye!”
With one last warning glance to Kuroo, Daichi left the kitchen. Kuroo followed after. They all said their goodbyes, and Kuroo pulled Michimiya aside for a moment to apologize for making assumptions.
“That’s alright,” she laughed, “people thought we were a thing all through high school too. I’m used to it.”
When she had left, and the others had gone back to their business, Kuroo approached Daichi.
“I like Michimiya. She's fun. You should have her over more often.” Daichi chuckled.
“I can't believe it, but she really likes you guys too, even after all that. She’s a good friend.”
“Seems like it.”
“A good friend, Kuroo.”
“Sure, I get the message. Say, Daichi...” He looked up to see a mischievous smile on Kuroo’s face.
“Has your friend ever told you that you’re kinda hot when you’re mad?”
+1: Kenma
Ushijima woke up to what sounded like yelling and shushing from the living room at— he checked the time— two in the morning. Curious, concerned, and more than a little irritated, he went to see what all the noise was about, and was surprised to find that Bokuto was the one doing the shushing. He sat on the couch with a soothing arm around Kuroo, who was hunched over with his head in his hands, talking far louder than anyone should have been at this hour. They hadn’t noticed him, so Ushijima caught a little bit of their conversation:
“—honestly thought this was over, I shouldn’t have left, thank fuck I at least stayed in Tokyo, those fuckers—“
“Shh. I know. We’re gonna handle it tomorrow, okay, I swear we’re gonna kill them—“
“No, no, see, he specifically told me not to do that, he doesn’t want to make a scene or anything.”
Ushijima cleared his throat, and the two looked up at him. Kuroo’s eyes were red with tears, and his face was equally red with anger. Bokuto looked just as angry, and more serious than Ushijima had ever seen him before.
“It’s late.”
Kuroo didn't meet his eyes.
“Sorry. We’ll quiet down. Go back to bed.” Ushijima sat on the couch next to him instead.
“What happened?”
Bokuto ran a soothing hand across Kuroo’s back.
“You know the setter for Nekoma? His name’s Kenma, super cool guy, badass hair, really smart and all?”
Sounded vaguely familiar. Ushijima nodded.
“Apparently, he’s been getting shit from some of his classmates. He has a hard time making friends, and now that Kuroo’s not there to sit with him at lunch and hang out between classes...”
Bokuto trailed off. He really didn’t need to say anything more. Ushijima knew what he meant. He remembered growing up as the weird one, as the guy who didn’t get jokes, who didn’t seem to filter his thoughts. What would high school have been like if he hadn’t had his teammates, if Tendou hadn’t been there for him, God, if he hadn’t been there for Tendou—
“Did he tell you their names?”
Kuroo looked up at him, confused.
“I don’t think so.”
“Ask him.” There was a hint of a threat in his tone. Kuroo sighed.
“I tried, but he doesn’t want to—“
“Ask again.” Okay, more than a hint. Ushijima’s voice was low, but somehow just as loud as if he’d been speaking normally. Loud enough, apparently, to wake Oikawa and Daichi.
“Okay, what the hell, guys? Do we really need to be talking at 2 A.M.?”
“Oikawa, wait. I think something’s up.”
Oikawa joined the others on the couch. Daichi crouched down in front of Kuroo, who was glaring at the floor, to meet his eyes.
“What’s going on?”
“Kenma’s getting bullied again.” Oikawa let out a shocked breath. Daichi’s eyes widened.
“Is it bad?”
“I don’t know how bad. I don’t think he told me everything. He just called and asked if I could walk home with him tomorrow, apparently some asshole was following him, and of course he doesn’t want to tell anyone on the team, even though I know they would help him—“
Daichi placed a strong hand on his shoulder. Bokuto held him a little tighter. Even Ushijima reached out to pat him on the back.
“So, what are we doing to them?”
Oikawa didn’t know the kid. But anyone who made his friend cry was getting hell for it. Besides, he had been picked on plenty in his life, and the best solution he knew of was to get Iwa-chan to beat the shit out of whoever was doing it. He was out of town, though, so maybe five powerful college athletes would do the trick. Kuroo looked to Daichi for some semblance of sanity, but all he found was the same murderous rage as the others. Daichi knew Kenma, not well, but he knew him. He was a smart player, he tried hard for his team, he handled Hinata’s energy like a champ, he didn’t deserve this. Obviously, no one deserved this, but Daichi felt a sense of protectiveness for Kenma. All of them did. He was only a year younger than them, but he wasn’t exactly the strongest or the most assertive. Maybe he could fend for himself, but he shouldn’t have to.
“Kuroo, you got their names, right?”
“No, no, we’re not going after them.”
“Of course we are,” Oikawa interrupted, “we’re going to beat them up and no one’s gonna mess with your friend again.”
“I don’t think we need violence.” Kuroo was almost relieved Ushijima’s apparent pacifism, until he added, “but we need to scare them. Maybe just threaten them. It would send a message.”
“Yeah,” Bokuto added, “and then if this ever happens again, we follow through.”
“LISTEN.” Everyone fell silent to hear Kuroo. “He told me specifically not to seek anyone out, and I’m respecting that. Here’s what we’re gonna do: I’m going to walk him home from school tomorrow, we’re going to tell a teacher if he wants to, and if he doesn’t want to, we’re respecting his wishes. He thinks it’ll blow over. I don’t know if he’s right, but I’m not about to put a spotlight on him if he doesn’t want it.”
Having said all he could, Kuroo put his head back down in his hands. No one spoke for a while.
“He could come here.” Kuroo looked up at Daichi. “He could talk to us. And we have plenty of video games here, so even if he doesn’t want to talk, we can just be with him.”
“Oh, we can get him ice cream or something!” Oikawa’s voice was bright. “Kuroo, what foods does he like? We can get snacks tomorrow.”
Bokuto looked at his friend. “If you think he’d be up for it, I mean, it’s kind of a lot of people for him, but he knows us and the others don’t have to bother him...”
“I have a sword.”
Everyone stared at Ushijima.
“I can give him a sword. No one would be a threat to him. I can teach him to use it. As a setter, he must be good at thinking on his feet. He could almost certainly use a sword.”
Kuroo looked around the room. “That... it might not be a bad idea. Not the sword part. That’s a bad idea. But I’ll text him about it, he’s probably still up anyway, and if he says yes, I’ll bring him here.”
Daichi smiled. “Let him know he’s always welcome.” Bokuto nodded his agreement.
“Ushijima, I’m a setter, can you teach me to use a sword?”
“You don’t need one.”
While Oikawa argued with Ushijima, Kuroo smiled down at his phone.
“Well, he said ‘fine’ in all-lowercase with no punctuation, which means he likes the idea. Let’s all just go to bed, we can talk to him about what’s going on tomorrow.”
The next day, Kenma spent his time after volleyball practice receiving hugs he didn’t want, being asked far too many personal questions, playing video games against absolute noobs, and being in a room with Bokuto and Oikawa at the same time. It was exhausting and terrible. But Kuroo was there, and the others were quiet when they needed to be, and it was good to know that he wasn’t alone.
That night, when Kuroo walked him back to his house, Kenma stopped him just before going in.
”Kuroo... thanks.”
”Of course. You can come over whenever, you know that, right? Seriously, they all like you, and I miss seeing you every day like crazy, and—“
Kenma hugged him.
”Please tell Ushijima I don’t want his sword.”
Kuroo laughed.
“Come back sometime and tell him yourself.”