❝ man, i'm just here to take pictures of you
so my club will stay alive. ❞
↳ aimoto iori never expected
her second year would su-
ck this bad. ever.
MIYA TWINS X OC ((NOT POLY...
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The winter breeze was biting against what little skin Iori had exposed, creating an almost throbbing pain in her wrists. She cursed herself for not putting on a more snug sweatshirt in the name of "fashion," but she couldn't do much about it now.
The streets of Tokyo were busy with people out-of-work, students excited about Christmas break, and the like. It was almost hard to navigate it, even though she'd gotten it down pretty well ever since moving there.
To her luck, the beginnings of a snowstorm appeared, snow falling gently down onto the streets. Somebody she was passing groaned in annoyance, obviously unsatisfied with the weather. To say she didn't mind it would be a lie, though, so she could really only say so much.
Finally, the destination came into view—a not-so-quaint chain restaurant that carried more Western food than it did Japanese. It was about a block down, buzzing with people and lights and a lot of cats, for some reason.
The food was probably attracting them, Iori reasoned.
Pushing the doors open (being sure not to let any of the strays in), her eyes immediately began scanning the floor, wandering from table to table in pursuit of her meal-partner. That familiar mop of blue hair was easy to spot amongst the crowd, and it only took a second to find.
"And she appears!" Yukimi shot finger guns at her, winking playfully. "How goes it? How was work? How's the girlfriend?"
Iori simply laughed as she sat down, effectively dodging the question. She was quick to notice the fancy glass of wine that sat in front of her (younger) friend. "Did you pay for that?"
"Are you kidding? This is all on Tsuru," Yukimi announced, making a face somewhere between disgust and lighthearted-ness. "She's such an asshole, thinking she can miss my entire birthday for work! She had the money to fly up here first class if she wanted to."
"She's so mean," Iori leaned back into the chair, letting her two jackets fall off her arms. "She's probably gonna miss mine, too. Osaka isn't even that far."
"Her asshole of a boyfriend just had to pick MSBY, out of all the teams he could've picked! Now we can't even go to any of the games because of—" Yukimi paused, shuttering in feigned disgust. "I can't even say his name! M-Mi...I can't do it!"
"I heard it's an actual sin to say his name. Like, in the bible and everything."
"We should've gone with Nishinoya. He would never miss our birthdays for crawfishing," Yukimi sighed, taking a sip of the fancy alcohol. "Y'know, the waitress said this stuff was from 2014, but I was much happier in 2014, and this doesn't taste like happiness."
"Just addiction?"
"I drink like once a week, shut up," Yukimi laughed, suddenly sobering up. "Seriously, though, how's it going with you and wifey? Are you gonna be able to hang out with me tomorrow, or does she want a picture-perfect Christmas?"
"She's just studying more," Iori huffed, frowning. "It's all about getting into med school. I might be the cadaver in her anatomy classroom in, like, a week if I don't get one hug."
"Tell me about it," Yukimi huffed. The waiter came up, holding a notepad and a pen in his hand.
"Would you like anything to drink, ma'am?"
"Anything fruity," Iori smiled. "You pick."
"Of course," he nodded. "Any specific fruits you like?"
"Literally anything, I don't care. As long as it has alcohol."
"Coming right up, then."
As quickly as he arrived, he had gone, leaving Iori and her nearly-21-year-old friend to sulk over their respective drinks (at least, once Iori's arrived).
"Oh, I ordered about four things of mozzarella sticks for dinner. It sounded luxurious."
"Wouldn't have it any other way, my friend."
Suddenly, an eruption of cheers came from the bar. Both Yukimi and Iori looked over, both freezing at the sight of the volleyball team playing on the TV.
Iori snatched up Yukimi's wine, earning an aggravated yell from the girl. In one big gulp, she swallowed the remnants of the glass, smiling. "Tsuru's paying, right?"
Unfortunately, even after running away for all this time, it seemed that—with his pro-volleyball fame—Miya Atsumu would never go away.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
"It's gonna be fun!" Umeko exclaimed, ruffling Iori's hair. "Trust me. We don't even have to go anywhere near your parents' house, they won't even know we're here. We're just getting dinner before we get back on the train; we'll be in Miyazaki in no time."
Iori wished she would've fought it more. She hadn't been to Hyogo since she was in high school, and she wasn't too excited about being there again. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but believe that Umeko was right, so she unhappily went along with her girlfriend and other-friend-couple.
"The internet says this place is really good."
"Yeah, I've heard that, too," Umeko nodded in agreement. They'd been walking for what had seemed like forever, and Iori was this close to just getting a taxi and going back to the station. They were dangerously close to her parents' home, and she wasn't excited about it.
"Ah, there it is."
"It looks so cute! I love it."
Iori grumbled something under her breath, only looking up as they entered the restaurant.
No way. No fucking way.
"I'm just gonna go to the McDonalds across the road!" Iori whispered yelled, tugging Umeko out of the restaurant with her. Ignoring her girlfriend's surprised yelps, she was sure to stand out of view of the windows, angrily staring at her.
"Ume, are you serious?"
"What?"
"This is Onigiri Miya! You know, the place my ex-boyfriend owns?"
"Iori, that was high school, you're 22—"
"I do not care! I am not going back in there."
Truthfully, it seemed like Iori was never going to escape the Miya twins.
Even in adulthood.
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