Chapter Text
2024:
The scent of fresh flowers enveloped Hitoka Yachi the moment she stepped into the quaint little shop. It was a fragrance both delicate and intoxicating, a mix of sweet jasmine, crisp eucalyptus, and the faint citrusy tang of freshly cut stems. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting golden patches of warmth over the wooden floors and highlighting the soft petals of blooms carefully arranged in glass vases and rustic wicker baskets.
Everywhere she looked, nature had been shaped into something artful: bouquets tied with silk ribbons, clusters of hydrangeas in shades of blue and lavender, and loose stems of garden roses resting on the counter, waiting to be gathered into something beautiful. A wall of dried flowers in muted earth tones lined one corner of the shop, a quiet contrast to the vibrant colors bursting from the fresh arrangements around her.
Behind the counter, an elderly woman with silver hair neatly pinned into a low bun looked up from her work. Dressed in a pale linen apron dusted with specks of pollen, she moved with a practiced grace, her fingers deftly trimming leaves as she approached. Her eyes, a warm hazel, crinkled at the edges as she offered a welcoming smile.
“Good afternoon, dear. How can I help you today?”
“I—I’m getting married… so I was just looking around,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended. The words still felt strange as they left her lips, as if she weren’t quite used to saying them yet—weren’t quite used to them being real.
On her ring finger, the engagement ring sat snugly, its delicate band cool against her skin. And yet, in that moment, it felt heavier than before, as if it carried a weight she was only beginning to understand.
The florist’s warm smile never wavered. Instead, she gave a knowing nod, as if she had encountered many brides-to-be with the same uncertain expression.
“Well then, looking around is the perfect place to start,” she said kindly, setting down her shears. Wiping her hands on her linen apron, she stepped around the counter and gestured toward the rows of blooms. “Take your time. Let’s see if anything speaks to you.”
Hitoka nodded, exhaling a small breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She let her eyes wander again, this time slower, as the florist continued, “Flowers can tell a story, you know. Sometimes it helps to start with something meaningful.”
She reached for a delicate cluster of baby’s breath and handed it to Hitoka. “For example, this symbolizes everlasting love and sincerity.” Then, she gestured to the pale pink peonies Hitoka had been looking at earlier. “And these peonies represent romance, prosperity, and a happy marriage.”
Hitoka took the small stem of baby’s breath between her fingers, feeling the weight or rather, the lightness of it. “I never really thought about it like that,” she admitted.
The florist studied her with a knowing glance before speaking again, her voice light with curiosity. “Tell me, dear… how did you and your fiancé meet?”
Hitoka blinked, caught slightly off guard. Her grip tightened around the delicate stems as she hesitated. “Oh… um.” She glanced away, eyes drifting over the rows of blooms, as if searching for the right answer among them.
The florist chuckled warmly. “Don’t worry, I love hearing love stories. Every couple has their own journey, and sometimes, it helps to look back to understand what feels right moving forward.”
Hitoka exhaled softly, a small smile forming despite herself. “We met in high school.”
The florist gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh, how sweet! High school sweethearts?”
Hitoka let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Well… not exactly.” She brushed her thumb over the smooth surface of her ring, feeling its weight again. “The truth is, we didn’t get together until much later.”
The florist reached for a delicate stem of purple lilac, its tiny blossoms clustered together in soft, fragrant bunches. She held it up with a gentle smile.
“This one,” she said, offering it to Hitoka. “Purple lilacs symbolize first love, the early feelings, innocent and new.”
Hitoka’s fingers brushed over the petals as she hesitated. The scent was sweet yet nostalgic, stirring something deep in her chest.
The florist tilted her head, studying Hitoka with quiet curiosity. “Was your fiancé your first love?”
Hitoka blinked, her breath catching slightly. Her first love.
Her gaze lowered, settling on the lilac in her hands. The memories felt distant yet vivid, woven into the spring of her youth. For a moment, she wasn’t standing in a flower shop anymore. She was back in 2012, a shy freshman, looking across a classroom filled with sunlit desks.
Her first day of Karasuno was a blur of faces and colors. She remembered standing in front of the school gtes, clutching her bag a little too tightly, her fingers sweaty around the strap. The scent of fresh paint and newly trimmed grass wafted through the air, but it did nothing to calm the knot in her stomach. High school felt so different from junior high.
The days were blending together in a haze of uncertainty for Hitoka. She still felt like she was walking through high school with her eyes closed. Despite the passage of time, she felt no closer to finding her place. Her classmates had settled into their routines. Most of them had already found groups to sit with at lunch, joined afterschool clubs, or had at least a few friends to chat with between classes.
She watched them from the sidelines, their laughter ringing in the air as they gathered together in groups, and all she could feel was the gnawing sense that she was being left behind.
She had tried, or at least she thought she had. She’d smiled at a few people in the halls, but her attempts to start conversations often fell flat. She wasn’t sure where she belonged. Should she join a sports club? She wasn’t athletic. A cultural one? But she fears they may be too exclusive. The student council may be too intimidating. The thought of joining something and failing in front of everyone sent a cold pit of dread into her stomach.
So she remained uncommitted and adrift. The insecurities gnawed at her, making her retreat further into herself.
At least, until that afternoon.
"Excuse me," a voice called out.
Hitoka turned, startled, and immediately felt her breath hitch.
Standing before her was the most beautiful girl she had ever seen.
Tall, elegant, with long dark hair that caught the afternoon light just right. She looked like she had stepped straight out of a shoujo manga. Even in a simple school uniform, she carried herself with an effortless grace that made Hitoka feel instantly small in comparison.
The girl was looking right at her, calm and composed, as if she had already made some kind of decision.
Hitoka, on the other hand, could barely process what was happening.
The girl tilted her head slightly. “Can you help us?”
Hitoka blinked, completely spellbound. “H-Huh?”
“We need a manager.”
A manager? For what? Hitoka had no idea. But her brain was still catching up to the fact that this absolute goddess of a senpai was speaking to her directly.
The girl continued, her tone patient but firm. “It won’t take too much of your time. Will you do it?”
Hitoka’s mouth opened and closed uselessly. Who was this girl? What was this about? What was she supposed to say?
But instead of asking any of those questions, she found herself nodding. Just like that.
"Um... okay," she heard herself say.
The girl gave a small, approving nod. “Good. Follow me.”
And just like that, she turned and walked toward the gym.
Hitoka stared after her, brain still trying to catch up. Wait. What did she just agree to? Who even was that?
Panic bubbled in her chest, but before she could rethink her life choices, her feet were already moving, trailing behind the beautiful senpai who had somehow, in less than thirty seconds, recruited her into something she didn’t understand.
She had no idea that she had just enlisted as the Karasuno Volleyball Team’s new manager.’
The realization hit her all at once, and she nearly staggered. Wait, wait, wait. What did I just do?
She wasn’t athletic. She knew nothing about volleyball. She could barely handle socializing with her own classmates, let alone an entire sports team!
Her stomach twisted with nerves, but when she snuck a glance at the tall, graceful senpai who she soon learned was Shimizu Kiyoko, third-year, the team’s current manager
Hitoka hesitated. Because if she had said no… then what?
She would’ve kept drifting through high school, waiting for something to change while doing nothing to change it.
But because of a single, impulsive decision because a pretty girl had asked and she had been too awestruck to refuse, she had stepped into something completely unexpected.
If she hadn’t been so easily charmed that day, if she hadn’t said yes without thinking, she never would have ended up here.
She never would have met him.
And her love story?
It never would have begun.