Kyoutani Kentarou was going to murder someone.

He didn't know who yet, or if they really deserved it, but, fuck, it would be good to just hit something. Hitting something would feel really good right now. This time had gone way too far, farther than the other attempts, and he couldn't back out now, he was in too deep. He knew Yahaba had seen the note he had left - hell, he had been there for it - and he also knew the boy would be coming. Was that better or worse? At least he wouldn't be left waiting all night. But that did mean having to face the setter. Like, face-to-face. While talking about their feelings. Oh, shit, this was a bad idea.

Kyoutani decided he'd murder Watari: it was his fault for finding out and forcing him to be here. The spiker groaned, unable to stand still, and began pacing around in a circle, hands stuffed in his pockets. The crackle of wrinkling paper sounded from his pocket and he jolted. "Shit, shit, shit," he hissed, hurriedly pulling out a small white envelope with no addressee and a love-heart sticker keeping it closed. Maybe keeping it stuffed in his trouser pocket was not the best idea because it was now moderately crumpled and there was a small tear in the bottom-right corner.

Great, now things were worse. He couldn't just hand this to Yahaba! That son of a bitch had standards! Kyoutani fought the urge to call it quits and go home, no matter how tempting it sounded. If he left now, he'd be jilting Yahaba and that would make morning practice incredibly awkward for him and him alone, which would be the worst. It would be even more annoying with Watari constantly bugging him about how he didn't have a boyfriend yet, as if all of a sudden the libero had more game than Kyoutani.

Kyoutani breathed in, trying to calm himself. It wasn't that big of a deal, it was just Yahaba. Who really cared?

...Oh, gods, he cared. He cared way too much. He cared an excessive amount and he hated it. But, checking his watch, he might be safe. It was four minutes past the agreed time of six pm. Yahaba was late, did that mean he wasn't coming? Oh, please say he wasn't coming, Kyoutani wasn't ready for this yet. If he still wasn't here by five minutes, Kyoutani would leave.

That was fair enough, right? Seconds slowly ticked past. Soon he'd be able to run away and deal with all this another day. Forty seconds. Thirty-seven. Thirty-four. Thirty-one. Just thirty seconds to go, and-

"Kyoutani?"

Confession Number One: Watari

"Look, dude, just think about things that piss you off!" Watari suggested, exasperated. "I dunno why I have to be involved in this."

"Because you're one of the things on the list," grunted Kyoutani as he did his best not to accidentally snap his pen.

Watari hit him playfully. "Oh, shut up, you know I'm your best friend."

"That says way too much about me and how low my standards are," Kyoutani answered without hesitation which resulted in him being hit again so he retaliated by punching Watari in the gut and returning back to his homework. Every week, his therapist would give him a small sheet to work through so he could help get some more control of the uncontrollable monster known as the Wrath of The Mad Dog, although only Watari called it that. This week, it was to complete a list of the things that annoyed him on a regular basis. Tiny things that would happen monthly, weekly, daily and why they'd annoy him so much.

'Understanding the root of the problem is the best way to go,' was what his therapist always told him. Or, at least, she said something like that. Kyoutani had never actually listened to whatever emotional metaphors or statements she had, they were all so unnecessarily wordy.

Watari pulled up a spare chair, sitting on it backwards. "Okay, let's think of a good place to start. What annoys you at home?"

"My sister."

"Fair enough, let's put her down." Kyoutani obeyed, scribbling down 'Aimi'. Watari hummed, "So, why does she annoy you?"

"Because she barges into my room and she is my sister."

Watari nodded. "Excellent, write that down. Look at you, Kyou, you're navigating your feelings!" Kyoutani elbowed him and the libero winced. "Yeowch, fine, I get it. What next?"

"First years," Kyoutani hissed with true loathing in his voice as he scribbled down his new problem. "Especially when they dither in corridors - makes me wanna smack 'em round the back of the heads, they're always in the way."

His friend groaned. "Ugh, feel you there. Don't forget when they stand in front of your locker, too!"

Kyoutani nodded as he wrote. This was why Watari would be here for this - only he could help him get in the state of mind that was half-arsed frustration and he helped articulate all of Kyoutani's grunts and aggressive hand gestures. It was an unspoken agreement between the two that these hang-out sessions would remain both completely confidential and not too emotional: after all, the last thing either of them wanted was Kyoutani getting actually mad with Watari still in the room. That had happened once and had ended very badly.

A few more things were added to the list: long queues at the corner shop after school; dropping his chopsticks on the floor when in public; being told he'd never beat Iwaizumi-san... It was a long and infuriating list but he had saved the worst till last.

"And, finally," he announced, picking up the pencil again, "Yahaba Shigeru." He pronounced every syllable with aggression as if he could hit the silver-haired setter with sound alone. He slammed the pencil down definitively. "The Bastard of Seijoh."

"Oh?" Watari peered at the paper. "Why's Yahaba on there?"

Kyoutani scoffed. "Why wouldn't he be?" Sitting down, he picked up his pencil and began to note down as he verbally listed, "He gives me stupid nicknames, he always lectures me for no reason, he has stupid hair that is offensively fluffy, and he loiters around after Iwaizumi-san and Oikawa and the other two like he's a third-year because he thinks that, just because he's pretty, he can be the boss of us!"

Watari blinked. "You think he's what now?"

"I know, right?! He thinks he's so goddamn pretty and, fine, he kinda is but he's not all that. I mean," Kyoutani's writing became furious scrawls across the page, "he's hot, sure, but his personality is lacking. He is such a dick! Always acting like he's better than me or flaunting all those confessions he gets from first years around and-! God, he's a piece of shit!"

"Kyoutani, are you-"

"And the worst part is he's not even ashamed of it!" Kyoutani pressed down with the pencil hard. "He accepts the fact he's a shallow fucker, he literally owns it! It's his entire identity but he's so fucking funny and it is unfair. Like, how dare he get to parade about this blatant arsehole-ery and how dare I not be angrier about it?! I should hate him but I don't because he's just too funny and clever and pretty and unreasonable attractive-! Do you know how dumb that is, Watari? How dare he be so hot and yet so shitty, it makes me livid and so fucking mad-"

"Kentarou, are you gay?"

There was silence. Kyoutani froze mid-word. He had been writing 'attractive' although it now just said 'attract'. He stared at it. He read what he had written. "Oh, shit," he breathed.

Watari stood up, walking over to him. "Hey, Kyou, you alright?"

"I'm gay," Kyoutani murmured wide-eyed. "Shinji, I think I'm gay."

The libero made a sympathetic face. "What's worse is you're gay for Yahaba."

Kyoutani looked disgusted. "Oh, no, I'm gay for Yahaba!"

"This has certainly been an interesting afternoon-"

"Why is my taste in both men and best friends absolutely abysmal?! Oh, holy fuck, I'm gay!" Kyoutani stood up in horror. "Oh, no, Watari, this is awful!"

"Nah, dude, it's really cool!" Watari laughed, rubbing his friend's back. "Love who you want to, there's no problem with it!"

Kyoutani grabbed him by the shoulders. "There's a problem with it if I love Yahaba! He's dreadful!"

Watari smiled smugly. "I thought he was unreasonably attractive-?"

"He can be both, dammit!" The spiker practically bellowed, leaving his friend wheezing in his arms. "I can both hate his guts and-"

"And wanna fuck him?" Suggested Watari.

"Shinji, I will end you if you don't shut the fuck up!"

"Kentarou! No threatening your friends!" The blond's mother shouted. "Or at least be quiet if you do!"

Kyoutani scowled at the libero who beamed back. "Sorry, mum!" He yelled over his shoulder.

Watari snickered. "Oh, dude, you are down bad for him, aren't you?"

"No! Yes? I don't know, what counts as down bad?"

Watari wriggled his way out of Kyoutani's grip and picked up the homework. "Well, let's see. You called him pretty three times, hot once, 'unreasonably' attractive and, apparently, his hair is 'offensively' fluffy."

"It is, though," sulked the spiker, sitting down on his chair. "No normal person's hair is that visibly fluffy."

"What about Oikawa-san?"

"Oikawa is not normal."

"...True." Watari skimmed over the paper again. "You think Yahaba's funny?"

Kyoutani slouched backwards, staring at his ceiling. "I mean... yeah. He's really witty. Makes the most snide, backhanded comments all the time that are just too outrageous and that's what makes them so funny. He just whispers them in your ear when you're really not meant to laugh and, suddenly, that's all you can think about because he's so right." He smiled to himself. "He's really good at it."

Watari hummed thoughtfully. "Well, fair enough. And clever?"

"Excuse me, have you seen his grades?"

"Yeah, no, you're right. He's clever, too." Watari put down the list. "You seem down bad, I'll be honest."

"I love Yahaba," Kyoutani confessed.

There was a brief moment of serenity, gentle silence filling the room. Kyoutani stared blankly at his ceiling, mind whirling of possibilities. Yahaba Shigeru: the silver-haired, silver-tongued bastard who did his best to have the most shitty personality in the whole of Japan, if not the world. Yahaba Shigeru: the setter who waited in the shadows and corrected everyone on the tiniest things. Yahaba Shigeru: a hilarious and clever boy who cared more about volleyball than he liked to let on but Kyoutani had seen the passion in his eyes. He had never admitted it out loud before, he had never let himself even think about it.

He confessed to himself and technically Watari not just that he was gay but also about Yahaba. His teammate. Kyoutani took another deep breath in, reeling. At least Watari was supportive - he was scared to think what a different reaction would've been.

"Should I tell the team?" He asked aloud, glancing at his friend.

Watari shrugged. "If you want to. I won't tell them unless you want me to - I won't even joke." There was a small pause. "...I might still tease you, though."

"Of course you will," huffed Kyoutani, rolling his eyes. There was another stretch of silence, although it wasn't as awkward as before this time. "I love Yahaba," The spiker repeated his confession dumbly. "Oh, gods, I have such bad taste."

The libero cackled. "Dude, tell me about it. He's a piece of shit!"

"Oi, don't call him that."

"Eh?!"

Kyoutani turned back to the homework left half-finished; Watari had placed it back on his desk and the final paragraph seemed too eye-catching to ignore. He wheeled his chair back to it, picking up the pencil. "You can go home now if you want," he suggested. "I need to think about this bullcrap."

"No problem," Watari answered, standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow at practice, Kyouta-gay." Kyoutani gave him a look and his friend only laughed in response. "I'm sorry, I won't, I promise. I'll see you tomorrow, Kyou."

"Yeah, see you." Watari closed his bedroom door and Kyoutani listened to his friend thanking his parents for letting him stay as he left the house. He pulled out a new piece of paper and wrote Yahaba's name in the largest handwriting he could manage at the top of the page. And then he began to list things: bothersome; aggravating; rude; shallow; pretty; funny; clever; smartarse; whiny; passionate; annoying; positive; judgemental; selfish; attractive; friendly; bastard; pretty. He paused, noting how he put 'pretty' twice.

Ten cons, six technically seven pros. Evidently, there was more bad than good. Evidently, he should decide to not like Yahaba and move on. Evidently, he was not going to for some ungodly and all-around stupid reason. Kyoutai hit his head on the desk, finally snapping his poor pencil in his grip.

"It's fine," he muttered to himself. "I can do this. As long as I don't become some blushy, mushy mess, I can do this..."

Confession Number Two: Iwaizumi

Kyoutani was a blushy, mushy mess and he was more than ready to change his life passion from volleyball to basketball in an instant if this day got any worse. It was a three-on-three practice match and he had been pitted against a team with Yahaba and Watari on it. He didn't entirely know the names of the other players, despite them being second years too, but that wasn't what mattered. What mattered was that Yahaba had just done a setter dump and he had been so focused on the set that the dump landed on his head.

On his head.

He blinked and looked at the ball that was now bouncing on the floor. No one said a word. Well, no one except...

"Wow, Kyouken, good blocking," Yahaba's infuriating voice pierced his thoughts. "I've never seen such an amazing play before. Congrats."

"Shut up..."

"Would you rather I applaud you? The ball landed on your head. You didn't even move!"

"I said shut it," he growled, flushing and picking up the ball. He shoved it under the net at Yahaba's stomach, glaring angrily. "It's your serve now, anyways."

Yahaba took the ball and handed it to Watari, crossing his arms - a key sign of an unwarranted lecture getting ready to begin. "Kyouken, you had plenty of time to block that, y'know. You didn't even stick your arms up! What kind of block doesn't involve arms?"

Kyoutani snarled. "Oh, just serve! I already know what I did wrong!"

"Oh, we both know what you did, I'm just surprised you managed something so stupid." Yahaba tilted back his head to stare down his nose self-righteously. "C'mon, Kyouken, you know you had time to react to that dump. You were even watching me, you should've seen it coming!"

The spiker felt his face go warm and he saw the way Watari looked at him. If his own response wasn't obvious, the gawking libero from across the court would be enough for anyone to realise why Kyoutani had failed to respond to the dump, despite watching Yahaba so intently. Oh, shit, had Yahaba really noticed him watching all game? Had he been that focused? Being gay was not worth it if he was going to be so obviously gay, too...

"It looked like you were setting," was the feeble excuse he muttered, looking away.

"Oh, you know it didn't. Are you even taking this seriously?" Yahaba pouted angrily but Kyoutani hated the fact he thought it was cute.

"I'm just tired," he huffed. "School was long."

Yahaba looked offended. "How was it long? You bunked the first two lessons?!"

Kyoutani started. "How do you know that?"

"Because I'm in those lessons!"

He blinked, panicking. "I, uh, didn't notice that."

"I pass you notes-"

"I thought that was Iwaizumi-san," he lied hurriedly.

"He's a third year!"

Speaking of the devil, Iwaizumi came striding into view. "Oi! What's all this shouting about? What's going on, why've you stopped the game?"

Yahaba pointed at Kyoutani accusingly. "Kyouken forgot how blocking worked!"

"I thought you were going to set it, not dump it!"

"It landed on your head!"

"Stop yelling right now and listen to me!" Iwaizumi yelled, shutting the two-second years up immediately, along with half of the gym. He folded his arms and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Kyoutani, come with me. We're gonna talk. Yahaba, go find Oikawa and cool off. And, you four," he turned to Watari and the other second years, "start a two-on-two until the others return."

The blond balled his fists and bowed his head, following embarrassedly after Iwaizumi who lead him out of the gym and to the locker rooms. He turned on the room lights and gestured for Kyoutani to sit down on one of the benches. Iwaizumi stood opposite the younger spiker, arms still folded menacingly.

"Okay," he began, "firstly, why'd you skip morning practice?"

Kyoutani didn't answer, looking away sulkily.

Iwaizumi arched an eyebrow. "You either talk to me or sit here for the next two hours."

"...I slept in."

"Well, that was a blatant lie."

Kyoutani swallowed. "I... didn't want to come in."

"Why?"

"It's a... short but weird story."

Iwaizumi shrugged. "I can handle weird." Kyoutani hesitated, wringing his hands, and Iwaizumi frowned. The ace crouched down so he was level with Kyoutani, face sympathetic. "What's wrong, kid?"

The second year bit the inside of his mouth. "Last night," he muttered between gritted teeth, "I think I found out I might be... gay." Iwaizumi didn't respond, making Kyoutani panic. "Like, I'm not sure, of course, I might not be fully gay, like nothing but gay-! I mean, I could easily be something else, I just- I haven't had time to really think it all through and I was a bit too 'wow, I'm not normal' this morning to come to practice-"

"Who said you weren't normal?"

Kyoutani blinked, his rambling coming to an abrupt stop as he looked at Iwaizumi. "What?"

Iwaizumi stared evenly back at him. "You're completely normal, Kyoutani. Being gay won't change that."

"I- I just thought-"

Out of nowhere, the ace suddenly brought the blond into a hug. "It's a lot to register right now, I know. Everything suddenly seems so different, all those memories from before are suddenly making sense. I get it, kid. But it doesn't make you 'not normal'. It makes you yourself and that's amazing."

Kyoutani swallowed, painfully aware of how shaky his arms were as he hugged Iwaizumi back. They sat in silence for a moment or two, the only sound being the distant squeaks and slams of the team still practising volleyball through the wall. "Do you, uh, wanna hear the worst part?" Kyoutani tried to joke with a wavery voice.

Iwaizumi sat back, not smiling but his eyes were full of support and openness. "What's the worst part?"

"It's Yahaba," confessed Kyoutani, feeling tears begin to well. "I love Yahaba."

There was a long, long pause. "Gods," said Iwaizumi, cracking a tiny smile. "You've got awful taste."

"That's what I said!" Kyoutani croaked back lightheartedly, a few tears falling.

Iwaizumi pulled him back in for another hug, sitting next to the blond on the bench now. "Don't even worry about it, kid. Oikawa and I will make sure no one says squat shit to you, okay? As long as we're still on the team, no one can say anything."

Kyoutani pushed back with a small frown. "You're going to tell him?"

"I don't have to!" He assured hurriedly. "But, trust me when I say, he wouldn't judge you either. I promise."

"You promise?"

"Absolutely."

"Why wouldn't he judge me, though?" Kyoutani scoffed, averting his eyes to the floor as he hunched over. "He's a prick who judges everyone."

Iwaizumi patted his back and there was amusement in his voice as he asked, "Please don't tell me you believed this whole time that Oikawa actually has ever liked a girl in his life?"

"Huh?" Kyoutani frowned. "Huh?!"

"Don't tell anyone this," Iwaizumi started, grinning despite himself, "but you're definitely not the only gay person on the team with us two around."

"Two? You, too?!" Kyoutani spluttered, wiping away some of his earlier tears. "Wait, since when?!"

"Since last year, when I asked him out," Iwaizumi informed, looking far too amused for Kyoutani's taste. "You're not alone."

"And you said my taste was bad! Yours is abysmal!"

"That is your vice-captain you're talking about, kid, don't you forget it," Iwaizumi punched his arm teasingly.

Kyoutani grinned evilly. "You are a masochist if you like Oikawa!"

"And you need serious mental help if you like Yahaba."

"...Alright, fair enough," Kyoutani rubbed his arm. "I think I actually do love him," he confessed, "That's the worst part."

Iwaizumi gave him a smile. "You didn't hear this from me," he whispered lowly, "but according to Oikawa, Yahaba's questioning his sexuality."

"What?"

"He might say yes if you ask him out," Iwaizumi nudged him. "You should give it a shot."

Kyoutani laughed, "Oh, fuck no! I don't need more reasons to flunk practice. Besides, he actually hates me. I'm pretty sure I've been written into his Death Note a thousand times over at this point."

Iwaizumi shrugged, standing up. "Well, you never know if you don't try. Wanna get back to practice?"

Hesitating, Kyoutani stood too, wiping his face one more time. "Don't tell Oikawa," He decided. "I'm not ready for all that yet."

"I won't say a word to anyone," promised Iwaizumi. "But..."

"...But?"

"But I can put you on Yahaba's team for practice more often-?"

"I will quit."

Iwaizumi laughed. "Alright, then, duly noted. Let's head back in."

Kyoutani nodded, wiping his face one more time. He had admitted it again and, now, it was really sinking in. He loved Yahaba. Granted, he wasn't thrilled about it but he couldn't deny it either... He sighed, standing up straight and keeping a neutral face. Time to get over all this.

Confession Number Three: The First Letter

Yahaba.

To Yahaba,

Dear Yahaba

Dear Shigeru

To Shigeru

Oi, you,

I've never had to write one of these before so don't expect a masterpiece. If you don't like it, I'm sorry, go suck a dick, that's your fault. I don't really know what to put in here, if I'm honest. I mean, complimenting you is really hard but I obviously can't just insult you in a letter like this. I mean, you're really pretty you're kind of pretty, but don't get a big head about it because, honestly, there are prettier it's not that big a deal. Alright, fuck, fine, you're really pretty and I think you have gorgeous eyes and your hair looks super soft and I'm sorry but I know you use aloe vera scented shampoo but I don't mean that in a weird way, I swear! You're the one who fell asleep on me on the way back from the Dateko practice match and I can't just not use my nose that's impossible!

I don't just like you because you're pretty, I promise! You're also really, really funny and I think I get butterflies every time you whisper some gossipy shit in my ear when we're in the corridors and I don't know if it's because you get so close or if you grab my waist when you do it so you can pull me nearer so you whisper even more quietly but I get butterflies like big time when you do. And you're super clever - you get such high grades and I've never seen you study. Like, seriously. That last class test, I am astounded at how you managed it, because even Yumekawa-san struggled and she always gets good grades.

This isn't much of a love letter, is it? I'm meant to be on about how I'll love you forever or describe the painstaking efforts that went into this homemade slab of chocolate. Wait, am I meant to make you chocolate? I've kinda just complimented you, I've not really said much else. This letter doesn't feel very romantic. I think it's the best I can do, I've not been gay for long. Okay, that sounds really stupid, I've probably been gay my whole life and I've only just noticed. It was because of you actually. Oh, crap was that too forward? Sorry. Oh gods, I shouldn't have admitted that. You're really cool, genuinely, even with your shitty personality.

I think I really love like love you. A lot.

Kentar

Kyoutan

Me.

Kyoutani stared at the letter thoughtfully, looking at all the scribbles and smudges and messiness. It was at a strange bridge between readable and illegible and he wasn't quite sure he could read some of the parts himself. He had definitely rambled and it showed with the amount of crossed-out sentences. It seemed less like a confession and more like a partially-intoxicated pile of word vomit. Well, there wasn't much he could do about it now. He put it in the envelope and closed it, sealing it shut with a love-heart sticker and then he jammed it in his pocket and pulled the flush of the toilet loudly.

After washing his hands for no real reason, he stepped outside to find, as usual, Yahaba waiting for him so they could walk to maths together. The only lesson where Kyoutani was on the other's level was maths and, according to Oikawa, that meant they needed to walk with each other to better their bonding. If it hadn't been directly instructed by Oikawa, Kyoutani doubted Yahaba would come within four metres of him outside of practice but, in fairness, if Iwaizumi hadn't wholeheartedly supported Oikawa's decision, Kyoutani would do the same.

Upon spotting Yahaba, he felt bitterness swell inside of him because, of course; of course, the Bastard of Seijoh was flirting with yet another group of girls. Yahaba wasn't the oblivious flirt Oikawa pretended to be. While the third year made sure to never notice his fans more than he would an acquaintance, Yahaba would sometimes approach his fans first or even compliment them at times. It was a thin ruse of polite conversation but this made many girls go for him, just because they knew he'd talk back, despite the only reason Yahba let it happen was to stroke his own ego. Maybe some people just liked self-absorbed dickheads with pretty smiles and Kyoutani was absolutely furious that he was one of those people.

"Yahaba-kun," one beamed shyly, twirling a lock of her ponytail far too obviously for it to be a casual fidget, "You always talk about these beautiful girls but I've never seen you with anyone. Are you actually single?"

The silver-haired setter slouched dramatically. "Outside volleyball and my studies, I never have the time to go looking for a date! I'd really love a girlfriend but there's just no time for me to find anyone interested in me."

"But you get so many gifts on Valentine's Day! Surely your options are wide open," Another girl giggled. She was trying too hard to lean on him and Kyoutani had no idea how he kept subtly avoiding her advances. "You could just pick one."

Yahaba widened his brown eyes. "But all of the girls are so nice! I can't pick just one, they're all amazing in their own way. It'd be so unfair!"

The first girl started twirling two locks of hair. "Well, maybe you should pick the most honest one. So many are asking you ought just because you're rich, y'know?"

"Oh, I'm not rich-"

"I wouldn't ask you for that," the first girl cut him off, looking at the boy intensely. "I don't care about the money, Shigeru-kun-"

He blinked at her slowly, faltering under the sudden change of behaviour. "You, uhm, don't have to call me Shigeru, y'know, I think I much prefer Yahaba-"

"And I wouldn't date you for just your looks, either," the girl insisted, stepping closer. Her friend tried to tug her back by the shoulder but she shrugged her off, staring at Yahaba very intently. "You mean so much more than just status to me, I really like y-"

"Oi, Yahaba!" Kyoutani shouted, making the three jolt and Yahaba spin around. The spiker glared and jerked his head back. "We don't have all day here." The setter's eyes were full of relief and trust and it made Kyoutani squirm shyly.

"Ah, right! Sorry, girls," Yahaba turned back to the two students who seemed thoroughly disappointed, "Mad Dog's calling!"

He quickly left them in the bustling corridors, finding his way to Kyoutani's side. "Don't call me Mad Dog," Kyoutani grunted, clenching his fists tightly in his pockets as they walked down the busy hallways. "It makes you sound like some first-year shrimp. Or worse, Oikawa."

"Say one wrong word about Oikawa-san and I will revoke homework-copying priveledges for the rest of the term."

"Fine, whatever." Kyoutani began fiddling with the slightly crumpled love letter awkwardly. "Why'd you even let girls try to hit on you? We both know you'll never accept any of them because you're so self-obsessed."

Yahaba gasped. "Kyouken, I'm not self-obsessed! I'm just busy, I wouldn't have time to date someone, let alone treat her right." Before the blond knew it, the taller boy had wrapped his arm around Kyoutani's waist and tugged him a little closer so he could whisper, "But, between you and me, that girl with the ponytail looked like a pig. Acted like one too, calling me Shigeru. And her friend was all over me. Clingy, much?"

Kyoutani felt his face go warm and he squeezed the letter in his pocket tight. "You're such a shallow piece of shit."

"At least I pretend to be nice to people," Yahaba whispered but he was too close to Kyoutani's ear now and he could feel the warm breath of the setter across his face. "You're just plain nasty," he breathed and it sent shivers down Kyoutani's spine. He responded in a calm manner to this incredibly gay experience and elbowed Yahaba in a panic, making the silver-haired boy stumble back. "Ow, Kyouken, what the hell, that hurt!"

"You got too close, it was weird," Kyoutani huffed, arm still poised to attack. "Also, it wouldn't hurt if you had some guts and could take a hit-"

"What's that?"

Kyoutani blinked and followed Yahaba's eyes until he could see his own fist. It was tightly balled but that didn't hide the tufts of crumpled paper sticking out of it. "Oh, shit," He breathed, hunching over his hand to hide it from Yahaba as he opened his fist. The letter looked less like a letter and more like crunched-up paper, screwed into a tight ball and ready to be binned. The love-heart sticker had torn slightly, almost in half. "Oh, shit, you're kidding me."

"What is it?" Pressed Yahaba nosily, trying to peer over Kyoutani's shoulder. "Is everything okay? That's not your homework, is it?"

"Oh, shove off, it's none of your business, anyways," snapped the blond, elbowing the setter again as he shoved the now-ruined letter into the other pocket. "It's nothing to do with you."

Yahaba hissed, rubbing at his ribs. "Ow, what's with all the elbowing today? I was showing concern!"

"It's nothing, it's just personal shit," Kyoutani muttered, flushing.

"Oh," Yahaba blinked. "Did someone give you a love letter?"

The spiker went red. "Wh- no!"

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Kyouken," Yahaba teased, grinning. "It means you finally stand a chance in the dating pool."

"Piss off, it wasn't a love letter from someone!"

Yahaba tsked, grinning. "How could I forget? You are intent on scaring off literally everyone."

"Don't make me elbow you again, prick."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Yahaba laughed, but the look in his eyes was genuine. "I didn't mean to annoy you."

Kyoutani's heart skipped a beat and he looked away, muttering, "Wow, guess there really is a first for everything."

"Oh, shut up," the setter shoved him. "You've been so quiet today but just as mean!"

"Quiet?"

Yahaba shrugged. "Well, you've yet to scream at me for something today and that is a record."

"We've only been at school for one lesson."

"And you'd usually have shouted at me by now."

Kyoutani shrugged. "Don't feel like it."

"Who are you and what have you done with Kyouken?"

The spiker huffed and shoved Yahaba forward a few steps. "Just shut up and get to lessons!"

"Hey, just because you shoved me instead of elbowing me doesn't make it any better!"

"Oh, be quiet!" Kyoutani barked, rolling his eyes. Yahaba, thankfully, complied, huffing as he pulled out his phone and texted away. Kyoutani took the distraction to glance at the love letter. He couldn't give it to him like this anymore, it would look like he was handing Yahaba rubbish. He pulled it out of his pocket, trying to ignore how Yahaba's intelligent eyes immediately flickered over. Smoothly and without an ounce of reluctance, Kyoutani tore it in half and dumped it in the bin that stood by a corner of the corridor.

"Now will you tell me what that was?"

"Nah," Answered Kyoutani, glancing up at him. "You don't have to know everything, pretty boy."

"Aw, you think I'm pretty," taunted Yahaba.

He could've said he did. He could've told Yahaba what the letter was about. He could've just confessed like he had meant to all along. But, instead, he rolled his eyes. "Over my dead body," he grumbled.

It was the thought of confessing that counted anyway. Maybe.

Confession Number Four: Chocolate

Why? Just why? Why did Kyoutani think it would be a great idea to turn up at school at six in the morning? No one ever arrived at school two hours early but here he was. He'd even be able to show up to morning practice in half an hour if he hurried. He had Watari stalk Yahaba's timetable for a whole week and then even made Watari walk into Yahaba's tutor class 'accidentally' three times in one lesson just so he could know precisely where Yahaba's seat was for today. Yes, Watari got detention but that's what being a good friend was all about at the end of the day.

Kyoutani swallowed back his pride and walked stiff-backed into Yahaba's tutor room. A teacher was at the desk and looked up with a frown as the blond walked in. "Can I help you?" She asked cautiously.

"'M fine," Kyoutani mumbled, counting down three rows as he walked down. Then he took started to head left and ended up at the third chair from the right, just like Watari had told him. Very aware of the teacher eyeing him cautiously, he reached into his bag and pulled out a plain white box - well, mostly plain. There was a single love-heart sticker on the lid, noticeably off-centre.

He placed it in Yahaba's tray and then hesitated. "Uh, this is Yahaba Shigeru's seat, right?"

The teacher frowned. "Yes, Yahaba-kun sits there."

"O-okay. Good." He swallowed. "I'm his friend."

"What was in the box?"

"Nothing." The teacher seemed more concerned and Kyoutani hurriedly backtracked, "Nothing bad, I promise!"

"Aren't you Kyoutani-kun?"

He hesitated. "Uhm. Yeah, I am."

"Strange to see you in school so early. I hear that you often miss your bus?"

The spiker swallowed. "I, uh, got dropped off."

"At six in the morning?"

"I-I've got volleyball practice."

"Well, then. You better get going."

Kyoutani nodded furiously, flushing as he scampered from the room. The practice was a blur, to say the least. He wasn't paying attention half the time and kept focusing on anything but the ball. Oikawa sent him to practise his serves alone as punishment for his botched receives but he didn't entirely mind the peace and quiet. At least, from the back of the gym, he could watch Yahaba without being noticed by the other second-year.

His hair really did look fluffy and soft. It seemed to be uncontrollably bouncy no matter how vigorously combed it was. Maybe combing had nothing to do with how bouncy something was but it wasn't like Kyoutani would know. His hair was naturally silver. It was natural. That was the most mind-numbing part. Kyoutani had been bleaching and dying his hair blonde for ages and he had assumed Yahaba did too until he realised how the roots never grew out, and when he noticed that his eyelashes were the same pale colour. It made him look slightly ethereal, especially when matched with his dark brown eyes. Gods, Kyoutani was weak for him. Like Watari had told him two months ago, he was down bad.

Yahaba was also tall. Not in a lanky, gangly manner, but in a graceful, elegant manner. He seemed to breeze by more than walk and he seemed to hover more than stand. Even though he was in the middle of a two-on-two against a third-year duo, he didn't look agitated or clumsy. He was like a well-oiled machine, gliding rather than soaring but just as fast. His jumps were high and his sets were perfect. Kyoutani loved hitting his sets: they were easy to manoeuvre and manipulate. He loved the small wrinkle on Yahaba's face as a blocker stuffed his spiker down. He pouted perfectly when his plans went wrong. He was stunning.

"Enjoying the view?" Watari's voice said.

"Yeah," Kyoutani answered absentmindedly. Then he went bright red. "I mean, no!"

Watari cackled. "Oh, your face! You look like a tomato!"

"Watari, I'm going to kill you-!"

"You said yes! Oh, dude, you said yes!"

"Shut up!" Kyoutani clouted him around the back of the head. "What are you even doing up here, dickhead?"

The libero managed to hold back his laughter long enough to say, "Oikawa-san sent me to practise against your serves. I did announce my arrival but you seemed... preoccupied."

"I will skin you, how long have you been standing here for?!"

Watari smiled with such smug and evil intention. "Fifteen minutes."

"You bitch-"

"Kyouken-chan, less fighting, more serving!" Oikawa's voice called bossily from across the gym.

Kyoutani glared. "I'll do what I want!"

"Oi, kid!" Shouted Iwaizumi. "Less fighting, more serving!"

"Yes, Iwaizumi-san!" Kyoutani replied without hesitation, and then he turned to Watari, dropping his voice. "The fact those two are dating astounds me."

Watari's jaw dropped. "They're dating?!" He hissed back in shock.

"Yeah, Iwaizumi-san told me. Don't snitch."

The shorter saluted. "Lips are sealed, my friend! Wouldn't want to get you in trouble with your dad, after all."

"Iwaizumi-san is not my father." Kyoutani folded his arms and there was a silence that passed between the pair. "Hey, if I asked you to-"

"Absolutely not, last time I got a detention."

"You won't get a detention this time!"

"That's what you said last time! And then I got a detention!"

Kyoutani rolled his eyes. "I mean it this time. You walk with Yahaba to his tutor and loiter around for a while before the warning bell rings, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah. Only today, though."

The spiker nodded. "If you can get me to come along without being obvious, I'll buy you a dorayaki."

"Two dorayaki."

"Deal."

Watari nodded as they shook hands. "Alright, I'll get you in. Just for this week?"

"Probably," Answered Kyoutani. "I don't wanna be too weird and make it a regular thing."

"Fair enough. Why'd you wanna come with-"

"Oi, you two!" Iwaizumi shouted. "Less hand-shaking, more practising!"

"Sorry, Iwaizumi-san!" They both apologised.

The pair stuck to practising for the rest of the morning session, partially due to Iwaizumi watching them like a hawk from across the gym. Kyoutani had no clue what magical words Watari had conjured up while talking to Yahaba in the locker room to get the silver-haired boy to agree to Kyoutani accompanying them but it must have been something incredible because the setter wasn't even batting an eyelid at his sudden presence.

On the walk, a few girls approached Yahaba to say good morning or ask him how practice went and he'd easily strike up a polite yet closed conversation until they sooner or later moved along. The girl with the ponytail from a week ago seemed to loiter nearby, eyes fixed on Yahaba until she saw the stare Kyoutani was giving her full of unrestrained aggression and threat. She didn't even dare to approach and Kyoutani only looked away when the trio passed her. She seemed to pale more when that happened but the spiker couldn't guess or care why. He listened back into the conversation the other two second-years were having.

"-and then Oikawa-san did that really cool trick with the hook to get-"

He immediately zoned back out. Any conversation about Oikawa was a conversation he did not want to be involved in. However, it looked like he had no choice.

"Were you there, Kyouken?" Yahaba asked, nudging him with his hip.

"There for what?" He grunted standoffishly.

Yahaba rolled his pretty eyes. "That Western circus that visited. They were here all last month - it was really cool!"

"Oh," Kyoutani blinked. "I did go with my family, for one of their evening shows."

Watari grinned. "I went with my folks too, but it was an afternoon performance."

"Oikawa-san bought himself and me all-day tickets," bragged Yahaba proudly. "We got to learn tightrope walking after the show, too."

Kyoutani grunted. "No need to show off."

"I wasn't! I was informing my friends!"

"Hey, Yahaba," Watari perked up, nodding his head to towards the left side of the corridor. "That's Adachi-chan, from my Home Ec, the girl I was telling you about."

Yahaba scanned the corridor. "The one with the short hair?"

"Mhm. Thoughts?" Watari asked, ignoring the murderous glare given to him by Kyoutani.

The setter hummed. "Buff girls aren't my type," He murmured, quietly enough for only the other two to hear.

Kyoutani bit the inside of his mouth. Part of him wanted to ask if it was just buff girls he didn't like - maybe he didn't mind strong guys. "You're so shallow," was what he said instead. "Bothering so much on how people look instead of their personality."

"I'm not going to date someone ugly," Yahaba whispered, shooting him a stern glance. "I can have a type, y'know. Having a type doesn't make me a bad person."

"Eliminating people just because they don't fit your expectations does."

"Oh, for god's sake, why have you been so grouchy recently?!" Yahaba crossed his arms, looking down his nose at the spiker. "Just because I have options and you don't, doesn't mean you can take it all out on me!"

"I couldn't care less."

"Really? So you're saying it doesn't bother you at all that no girls ever talk to y-?"

"For fuck's sake, Yahaba, I'm gay!"

The words had left his mouth before he realised it and he froze on the spot. Watari stared wide-eyed with panic at him and he couldn't read Yahaba's expression. Maybe that was because he hadn't actually lifted his eyes from the ground since the words tumbled off his tongue. "Y-you're...?" The setter began before trailing off.

"I'm gay," he muttered between gritted teeth, heat rising in his cheeks. "I don't care about girls."

He waited for Yahaba to say something, anything: he could see Watari slowly walking up to him, trying to give him a tiny hug as they waited in silence for whatever Yahaba's verdict would be. For a moment, he didn't say anything. Kyoutani didn't even dare look to see his crush's countenance, to see what emotions he had on his face. Surely it wouldn't be disgust: Iwaizumi had told Kyoutani clearly how Yahaba had been experimenting or was unlabelled or something like that. Surely Yahaba couldn't hate him for it.

"Well," Yahaba began, sounding like he had chosen his words very carefully, "that doesn't mean you're not jealous?"

"Yahaba!" Watari said, scoldingly, and Kyoutani looked up with a frown.

The setter shifted nervously, eyes stubbornly averted. "I mean... I've had guys confess to me before, too. Some third-year hunks, too, not just first-years."

Kyoutani stared incredulously. "This is you trying to be supportive, isn't it?"

"Oh, c'mon, Kyouken! You sprung this on me out of nowhere, I have no idea what to do in this situation!" Yahaba threw his hands up in frustration. "Like, what do you want me to say? 'Congratulations, you like cock'?"

Watari punched the setter in the stomach without hesitation. "Oi! Stop making this about you!"

"Ow!" Hissed Yahaba, clutching his stomach. "I was trying to react calmly! He just came out to me in the middle of a conversation, how else was I meant to respond?"

"With understanding and compassion?" Watari punched him again. "Honestly, I thought you were the smart one!"

"Fuck, Watari, stop hitting me-!"

Kyoutani started laughing. It started small at first, trying to smother the smirk that spread and grew from a snort to a chuckle to a genuine laugh. Watari grinned and started laughing too. Yahaba blinked at him and then smiled warmly - he didn't laugh but he smiled and that was good enough. "Come on, you fuckin' idiots," Kyoutani beamed, shouldering the two as he started walking again. "We gotta drop off Yahaba at his tutor room."

"Yeah," answered Yahaba, slightly dazed. "Let's go."

Kyoutani turned to him. "I didn't mean to spring that on you," he said honestly. "I've just been a bit worked up about it recently and it kinda spilt out."

The taller shook his head primly. "Don't even worry about it, I understand." He opened his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue but he hesitated for too long on whatever his original sentence was and instead said, "I mean, I actually know some other, uh, gay people. There are a few in the volleyball club. You're not weird or anything."

"You're talking about Oikawa and Iwaizumi-san, aren't you?"

Yahaba's head turned sharply. "Who told you about that?"

"Iwaizumi-san did, chill out. Who told you about it?"

"Oikawa-san."

"The real question is," Watari piped up, "is why neither of them told me?"

Yahaba grinned. "Because you're not their favourite."

"I'm Makki-san and Matsun-san's favourite!"

Kyoutani rolled his eyes. "What a flex."

They took a right as Yahaba's tutor room turned up on the corridor. The trio walked in, chatting about their different upperclassmen as they slowly led Yahaba to his desk. The setter sat down, reached into the tray and frowned. Kyoutani's chest tightened when Yahaba said, "One second, something's in here." In Yahaba's hands was a plain white box with a love-heart sticker sat noticeably off-centre on the lid. Watari looked up at Kyoutani, who shrugged back casually but the look he gave the libero was sharp.

Yahaba stared at it, then turned around to stare at a brunette girl sitting by the window. "Yumahara-chan," he asked lightly, getting her immediate and blushing attention. He waved the box. "Was this you?"

The girl blinked. "Uhm, no. I- I use pink boxes."

"Ah, right," Yahaba turned back to the box. "Then who the hell was this?"

Kyoutani glanced up just to spot the teacher staring back at him, gaze level like she knew exactly what he was thinking and was debating whether or not to mention what she had seen. All the spiker could do was widen his eyes imploring before he had to tune into Yahaba's neverending talking again.

"They got the sticker far off-centre," He huffed, turning the box over in his slender hands. "There's not even a note."

"Maybe they're new to the whole gift-giving thing," Watari suggested, forcibly casual. "Or just an idiot." Kyoutani stepped down hard and subtly on the libero's foot, making Watari inhale sharply in time to add, "Or, y'know, maybe they're so cool they don't have to be all perfect with it. Cause, like, you'd say yes straight away if you knew who it was."

Yahaba laughed airily. "Oh, come now, Watari, the only exception to that rule is Oikawa-san and you know it. Besides," His brown eyes flashed when he glanced at the standing duo, "You're making it sound like you know who it was with that behaviour."

"I know nothing of inter- ow!" Kyoutani elbowed Watari in the chest instinctively, his best friend immediately doubling over. "I mean-! Oh, fuck, that hurt. I mean, I know nothing at all!" He gave Yahaba a teary smile. "Just, really, no clue."

The setter smirked, leaning on his desk while fiddling lightly with the box's lid. "Seems like you both know who did this... Is this why you wanted to walk with us today, Kyouken?"

Yahaba beamed at him and Kyoutani felt his ears grow warm as he looked away. "I know nothing about this weird crap and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Okay, okay," Yahaba laughed lightly. "Keep your secrets, you two, I'll find out soon enough."

There was a pause and Kyoutani, unable to take it, blurted, "Aren't you even gonna open it?" Watari elbowed him gently.

"I'm moving, I'm moving," huffed the setter, flipping open the box and peering inside. "Oh, nice. Chocolates." He picked one up. "They're in small heart shapes, that's so cute."

Watari leaned forwards nosily. "Do they taste good?"

Yahaba shrugged and put the chocolate in his mouth. He hummed thoughtfully while chewing, swallowed and then turned to Watari with a shrug. "They're really nice, but I can't tell if it's dark chocolate or if the cocoa was burnt."

"Maybe they're new to making chocolate," Kyoutani muttered, a tad bitterly.

"Yeah!" Watari defended. "You can't judge."

Yahaba frowned at them suspiciously. "Okay, you two are seriously being really weird about this. Do you actually know who did this?"

"No!" Kyoutani snapped bluntly, stepping on Watari's foot until the libero blurted out the same.

The setter brushed some hair from his face. "Honestly, what's the matter with you guys? It's not like this is the first time I've had an anonymous confession or whatever. Why are you being so weird?"

"Why are you being so weird?" Answered Watari before immediately cringing.

Kyoutani winced. "Good response, Shinji. Really well-timed. Very levelheaded and mature."

"At least I'm actually speaking," Watari muttered back, shooting his friend a sideglance.

Yahaba stared at them with the expression you'd expect to see on someone who just had a conversation with a psych-ward patient that gave them too much detail on their morning routine. "Morons," He said slowly. "I'm friends with morons."

Kyoutani made a face. "I've not been a moron yet."

"You stood here looking constipated for the entire conversation," informed Yahaba, arching an eyebrow. "It was not the greatest demonstration of your intelligence but I thought it to be quite accurate."

"Suck a dick."

"I thought that was your job now?"

Kyoutani hit him on the top of the shoulder. "You suck at being supportive, y'know that?"

"Ow, hey! I'm trying my best here!"

A bell rang out and Watari clapped his hands together. "Well, that's our cue! C'mon, Kyoutani, we don't want to be late for our lessons!"

"See you at afternoon practice!" Yahaba called after them. "And we're not finished with this!"

"Sure we are," Grunted Kyoutani over his shoulder. "We're telling you nothing, pretty boy!"

"You still think I'm pretty, huh?"

Kyoutani looked back at him, one foot in the doorway. He winked and watched Yahaba drop the chocolate box. "As pretty as dogshit," he chided before stepping out. Watari was grinning far too proudly, making Kyoutani's victorious smirk drop immediately. "Not a word," he threatened softly and dangerously. "Or I will murder you."

Confession Number Five: Yahaba Shigeru Himself

Kyoutani Kentarou was going to murder someone.

He didn't know who yet, or if they really deserved it, but, fuck, it would be good to just hit something. Hitting something would feel really good right now. This time had gone way too far, farther than the other attempts, and he couldn't back out now, he was in too deep. He knew Yahaba had seen the note he had left - hell, he had been there for it - and he also knew the boy would be coming. Was that better or worse? At least he wouldn't be left waiting all night. But that did mean having to face the setter. Like, face-to-face. While talking about their feelings. Oh, shit, this was a bad idea.

Kyoutani decided he'd murder Watari: it was his fault for finding out and forcing him to be here. The spiker groaned, unable to stand still, and began pacing around in a circle, hands stuffed in his pockets. The crackle of wrinkling paper sounded from his pocket and he jolted. "Shit, shit, shit," he hissed, hurriedly pulling out a small white envelope with no addressee and a love-heart sticker keeping it closed. Maybe keeping it stuffed in his trouser pocket was not the best idea because it was now moderately crumpled and there was a small tear in the bottom-right corner.

Great, now things were worse. He couldn't just hand this to Yahaba! That son of a bitch had standards! Kyoutani fought the urge to call it quits and go home, no matter how tempting it sounded. If he left now, he'd be jilting Yahaba and that would make morning practice incredibly awkward for him and him alone, which would be the worst. It would be even more annoying with Watari constantly bugging him about how he didn't have a boyfriend yet, as if all of a sudden the libero had more game than Kyoutani.

Kyoutani breathed in, trying to calm himself. It wasn't that big of a deal, it was just Yahaba. Who really cared?

...Oh, gods, he cared. He cared way too much. He cared an excessive amount and he hated it. But, checking his watch, he might be safe. It was four minutes past the agreed time of six pm. Yahaba was late, did that mean he wasn't coming? Oh, please say he wasn't coming, Kyoutani wasn't ready for this yet. If he still wasn't here by five minutes, Kyoutani would leave.

That was fair enough, right? Seconds slowly ticked past. Soon he'd be able to run away and deal with all this another day. Forty seconds. Thirty-seven. Thirty-four. Thirty-one. Just thirty seconds to go, and-

"Kyoutani?"

His heart stopped. It froze in his chest and he couldn't even bring himself to look up from his watch. He knew that voice: he knew it from the little voice that chided him in the back of his head, the voice that whispered things to him in the midst of dreams and the voice that would shout at him during practice for messing up his spikes. It was Yahaba's voice. He was here.

"Hey? Kyouken?" Slender fingers snapped in front of his face and he looked up with a jolt to see Yahaba watching him calmly with an arched eyebrow. "What are you doing here? Practice ended a while ago, shouldn't you be heading home?" Kyoutani's words caught in his throat and Yahaba crossed his arms. "It's going to snow soon, too, you don't even have a coat."

"Neither do you," He muttered, avoiding all forms of eye contact.

Yahaba hadn't noticed the letter in his hand yet it seemed, because he focused on brushing his hair lazily from his face. "Well, I don't live that far so a bit of snow won't hurt me. You live ages away and, besides, shouldn't you be catching a bus soon? Why are you just loitering around like-" He cut off abruptly and Kyoutani felt his ears go red. "Oh."

The blond swallowed his pride and held out the letter in his hands, staring adamantly at the grass. "Just take it," he muttered between gritted teeth. "Let's get this whole malarkey over with already."

"You asked me to meet here?"

"I thought that was obvious now!" Kyoutani shouted, louder than he had meant to. His hands were shaky now. "Just take the damn letter!"

"You're confessing to me?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you don't have to rub it in!" The ace was almost bellowing now. "I know, you're a prick and this is what you do but I don't need you taunting me right now, you son of a bitch-!"

"Kyouken!" A hand grasped his wrist and he finally looked at Yahaba. The setter's cheeks were flushed pink, his eyes were slightly wide as if in disbelief and he looked shocked. Genuinely shocked. Not in a negative way, though. He looked happy. Kyoutani couldn't quite process it: his body went rigid and he failed to swallow with a dry mouth. "I'm," Yahaba began, struggling to speak. "I'm not taunting you."

Kyoutani blinked back an unprompted tear. "You're not?"

"Of course not," Yahaba teased the love letter from his hands, eyes never leaving Kyoutani's face. "I just... I'm surprised it was you."

He swallowed, trying to think of something to say. "Well. I- I'm surprised you turned up."

The setter smiled at him gently and Kyoutani was sure his heart skipped more beats than necessary. "Of course, I'd show up. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you've got an awful personality..."

"Well, consider this my nice side." Yahaba turned over the letter and paused. "This sticker-?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's the same one on the box of burnt chocolates. That was me, too, I guess."

"That was you?!"

Kyoutani flushed. "Yeah. I, uh, I'd never made chocolate before so I know they weren't very good-"

"Kyouken, I loved those chocolates!" Yahaba suddenly promised, grabbing Kyoutani's spare hand. "They were actually really good. It was only the first one that tasted a bit burnt, anyways!"

The ace stared at him, wide-eyed. He opened his mouth to say something but only managed a breathy noise, somewhat like a whine but also similar to a creaky door. "You're, uh..."

"What?"

"You're holding my hand," he hoarsely whispered, so quiet one would think that those words were forbidden.

Yahaba blinked at him and then looked down at their interlocked fingers. His face went a deeper shade of pink. "Is... Is that okay?"

"Yeah, 's all good," Kyoutani's voice cracked. "I-it's not a big deal."

There was a small pause, neither suffocating nor comfortable. It just existed harmlessly yet Kyoutani couldn't even breathe. Yahaba murmured softly, "I've never held someone's hand before."

The ace swallowed. "I've never held someone's hand before. Well, except for my sister when I was younger and, like, my parents and-"

"I wasn't counting family when I said that, Kyouken."

"Oh, right, neither was I. I mean, I was but I also got what you meant or, like, what you were going for and-!" Yahaba raised his eyebrows, smirking almost fondly and Kyoutani went red. "Uh, you have nice hands."

"Thanks," Yahaba replied, chuckling. He was running his thumb over Kyoutani's knuckles, he was taking a step closer. "I do my best to look after them."

"Are you, uh, gonna read the letter, then?" Kyoutani asked, trying to sound a bit gruffer, attempting to deepen his voice. "You're just, uhm, holding it."

The setter took another step forwards, quite literally walking into Kyoutani's open arms. "Can I read it in a second?" He asked, overly innocent.

"Yeah, sure, do whatever you, uhm... Do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" Echoed Yahaba.

The hand in his tightened its grip slightly. "Sure," Kyoutani whispered, wondering if he was still breathing.

"Can I kiss you?"

Kyoutani has definitely stopped breathing. "Sure," he repeated.

He blinked and, the next thing he knew, Yahaba was kissing him. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected: maybe something smooth and cinematic, like in his sister's animes, or something passionate and tense, like in western films. This wasn't like that. It was wet, smelt like aloe vera and tasted like lemon-flavoured sweets. There was a hand with a letter wedged between the fingers resting on the back of his head, pulling him in closer. He always forgot he was a little bit shorter than Yahaba but he realised this now with the way the silver setter was holding him. Then he tried to kiss back, awkward and nervous. Yahaba didn't pull away or panic, instead he seemed to lean in closer. He let go of Kyoutani's hand to instead hold his cheeks, and Kyoutani found himself using his spare hands to pull Yahaba in closer at the waist.

When they pulled away, there was no panting or synchronisation, like there always seemed to be in fiction. Kyoutani had slowly pulled back and felt Yahaba lingering after him: the setter was no longer such a delicate pink and was now fully red, his whole face radiated a burning heat. "Wow, okay," He said slowly, "I've never kissed someone before, either."

Kyoutani laughed but it was missing all the nerves from before. "Felt good to me. I've never kissed anyone either."

"Seriously? But you're so hot!"

He scoffed, trying his best not to seem down bad, although it was probably too late. "Yeah, no one's ever really thought that about me."

"Lies," Yahaba insisted. "Because you are, like, completely my type."

Kyoutani frowned. "I am?"

"You're a rude guy who says it how he sees it and doesn't trust anyone or thing but his gut," Yahaba shrugged, shyly. "I've always respected you for it. In a way."

"In a way?"

"You've been rude about Oikawa-san. Some things are unforgivable."

Kyoutani made a face. "You're just rude to everyone, though, how are you any better than me?"

"I have nicer hair."

"It's silver."

"At least it's not stripey."

"My hair is not stripey."

"Tell that to the stripes."

Kyoutani rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Do you wanna accept my confession or not?"

Yahaba gave him an unimpressed look. "I kissed you."

"And?"

"I'm pretty sure anyone with half a brain cell would realise that was me accepting your confession."

"Some verbal confirmation would be nice!"

Yahaba rolled his eyes but there was no annoyance in his smile. "Fine. I accept your confession, Kyouken. I think I like you too."

"See?" Kyoutani grinned. "That wasn't too hard."

"Oh, gods, I take it back, you're awful," Yahaba laughed. "You're not allowed to tease me back! That's not how this is going to work!"

The ace grinned and kissed Yahaba again, briefly this time but a lot stronger. "Watch me!"

"No, no, this is unfair!" The setter tried to pull away but he had become trapped in a hug while his guard was down. "I'm the mean one here!"

Kyoutani missed Yahaba's lips, this time just pecking his cheek. "You smell so stupid," he commented idly.

Yahaba gasped. "How dare you discredit aloe vera! You smell like overly masculine deodorant, anyways, so you have no room to talk!"

"Gods, you are so loud!" Kyoutani laughed and kissed Yahaba again, "You need to shut up every now and then, y'know."

"Never," Yahaba flashed him a winning grin. "My voice is too hot for that."

Kyoutani rolled his eyes. "You're so self-obsessed."

Yahaba smirked, opening his mouth to say something when something small and white fell between them and landed on the setter's nose. The pair looked up to the sky which had darkened with grey clouds. "I told you," Yahaba said softly, "It's snowing this evening."

"So it is," Kyoutani answered then checked his watch. "I think I missed my bus."

"That's okay," Yahaba told him, managing to worm his way out of the hug. He still had the love letter in his hands, only slightly more crumpled than before. "You could just come back to mine - I live nearby."

Kyoutani looked up at him. "Is that okay?"

"Of course," Yahaba gave him a genuine smile. "You can always come over, y'know. We're friends."

"We kissed."

"And?"

"Can't we be more than that now?"

Yahaba looked at him, intertwined their hands and smirked. "Once you've worked up the courage to ask me, then sure."

"You're a son of a bitch."

"And you're the idiot with taste abysmal enough to date me."

Kyoutani arched a judgemental eyebrow. "Hark, says the 'congratulations, you like cock' guy."

"You came out to me from literally nowhere!" Yahaba whined, swinging their clasped hands. "I was dealing with both 'oh, god, I have a chance' and, 'oh, god, don't look like a homophobe'!"

"You wouldn't have looked like a homophobe," scoffed Kyoutani, then he paused. "Wait. What do you mean, you had a chance?"

Yahaba shrugged, cheeks going pink as it was finally he who averted eye contact. "I had a crush on you. I think I have for a while now."

"Since how long?"

"Figured it out eight months ago, more or less."

Kyoutani spluttered. "What? Eight months? Why didn't you say anything?!"

"Because you hated me and I didn't know if you were a homophobe!"

"I'm gay!"

"Well, I didn't know that eight months ago, did I?!"

"You could've asked!"

"You could've too!"

Kyoutani flushed. "I- I didn't have to!"

"What do you mean?"

"...Iwaizumi-san may be great but he is bad at keeping secrets."

Yahaba stared. "I'm going to kill him."

"No-!"

Inspired by this doodle from my Tumblr! I recommend following it for more regular haikyuu content: https://at.tumblr.com/grungeeuvu/idk/e9bcvgg5tbh0