lunaris | akaashi keiji

𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗

In the most abstract sense, you supposed that you wouldn't have half your problems if you'd just gotten over your fondness for Bokuto Koutarou.

But it was easier said than done, really. He wasn't the brightest student in Fukurodani, but he certainly glimmered with his own unrivalled passion for the sport he loved the most. The megawatt smile that grazed Bokuto's face when his spikes flew past the opposing team's faces was something that made your heart flutter like hummingbirds' wings beating against your rib cage.

His excitement, his exhilaration—it's as if they were your own.

You were painfully aware that you're not the only one that was ensnared in his optimistic charm. You've seen other girls shyly ushering themselves inside the gym; red-faced and flustered as they gave Bokuto packed bentos, love letters, and even homemade chocolate. The difference between you and them, however, was that you were aware that Bokuto wasn't like any other teenage boy easily swayed by his admirers. No, he was on a one-track mind headed straight to the Olympics.

"You sure you have a crush on him, (Name)?" your best friend, Itsumi, sighed. "Way to keep up with the competition."

The question was probably warranted by the sudden influx of girls crowding outside the gym. And while that wasn't too strange a sight, there were more of them than usual. The bentos and chocolates were replaced with presents enclosed in cute wrapping paper and tied with ribbons that may have spoken volume about their taste in color.

When you felt the satisfying burn of the stretch on your hamstrings, you assumed a sitting position on the grounds. "I don't really have time for that, you know, with the competition drawing closer."

"So?" Itsumi frowned, undoing the knot on your right shoe just to spite you. "I bet my entire life that he would adore your cooking! Those girls can't even make a proper bento for shit—"

"Sumi," you reprimanded.

She groaned, scratching the back of her head with annoyance. "All I'm saying is, not only does Bokuto-san actually remember your name, but you're the captain of the track team! If there's anyone who can keep up with his energy, it's you ."

The moment Itsumi said the words, your gaze was caught by a familiar head of bouffant, black and white hair. Bokuto was chattering with his vice captain, Akaashi, as they made their way towards the gym—completely oblivious of the company that's camping out to anticipate his arrival. His golden eyes glittered with enthusiasm as he spoke, his setter seeming unbothered but not apathetic of his senpai's animated story-telling.

"There is one guy," you muttered to yourself.

"Bokuto-san, happy birthday!"

"Happy birthday, ace!"

"I hope you like our presents!"

Itsumi hummed in understanding as you raised an eyebrow at the brewing crowd. "Eh? So it's his birthday! You're a shitty admirer, (Name)."

"Shut up," you told her off as you got up to your feet to dust off your training clothes. The rest of your teammates were yet to finish up with their respective warm-ups, so you placed both hands over your mouth to speak over the swooning females a few meters away.

"Run twenty laps around the oval once you're done. Anyone who can't beat their previous records gets five extra." Your command was met with disappointed groans and pleas for mercy, but none bothered to protest against your words. Though they could be a couple of slackers at times, the team took your threats at face value.

You headed over to the oval before anyone else, leaving Itsumi behind to gossip with the rest of your third year teammates as you prepared to time your run on your wristwatch. The sun was hanging low in the horizon, painting the sky with a resplendent orange glow that momentarily distracted you. Practice started quite late for all athletic teams today because of that unnecessary school-wide activity, and you didn't get why you're the only one that's feeling the urgency to catch up with the missed hours of practice.