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It starts out, like so many bad ideas do, with Tanaka and Nishinoya.
“Let’s do an arm wrestling competition!” they say. “It’ll be fun!” they say.
This is—this is not the worst idea they’ve ever had. In fact, it’s one of the more reasonable ones. Still, knowing his kouhai, somebody’s arm would somehow get broken, and he'd like to avoid that at all costs.
“I think—“ Daichi tries to say, before he’s cut off by the excited screaming of his underclassmen.
“OOH! OOH, I WANNA ARM WRESTLE TANAKA-SENPAI!” Hinata shrieks, barging forward and rolling up his sleeves. Tanaka laughs, flexing his arm muscles and raising his head to the sky. From next to Daichi, Suga laughs, and Asahi sighs.
“LET’S GO, SHRIMPY!” Tanaka bellows, placing his hands on his hips and then, like so many other times, moving to pull his shirt off. Daichi does not know why Tanaka does this. Maybe Tanaka thinks it makes him look manlier. Daichi thinks it makes him look stupid.
“Do not take your shirt off!” He shoots Tanaka a murderous glare, and Tanaka meekly obeys. Nishinoya runs off to obtain a table. Daichi looks around and finds that Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are quickly and quietly making their way out of the gym. All of the second-years have already left. Smart people.
“Kageyama!” Hinata shouts as Kageyama walks into the gym. He sprints over, grabbing Kageyama by the wrists and dragging him to the center of the gym. Kageyama looks none too pleased about this, screaming some indecipherable gibberish and adding more stress to Daichi’s rapidly growing headache.
“Make sure they don’t hurt themselves, Suga,” he mutters as he turns to his right. He blinks, and suddenly, his boyfriend has disappeared. He blinks again, and his boyfriend and Nishinoya are dragging a table into the gym. Great. Excellent. His own boyfriend has decided to become an agent of chaos today.
The four idiots—minus Suga, if the way Suga is vehemently shaking his head and backing away from the table is anything to go by—gather around the table. Daichi sighs, walking over to watch the spectacle, arms crossed. Asahi slowly follows behind him.
“Okay, so here’s what we’re gonna do!” Tanaka declares, pointing two fingers at Hinata and Kageyama. “You two are gonna battle it out! Then me and Noya will battle it out. Then the two winners are gonna battle it out, and the winner of that one…”
“You’d think they’re doing gladiator sports,” Daichi says, looking back at Asahi, and Asahi chuckles. “To the death.”
“Will fight Asahi!” Nishinoya declares, pointing straight at Asahi. Asahi makes a noise akin to a mouse’s squeaking, and both Daichi and Suga snort at the same time.
“Me?!” Asahi asks, pointing at himself, and Nishinoya nods in affirmation. “Why—why me?”
“Because we all already think you’re the strongest out of all of us, buuuuut this is gonna be definitive proof that you are the strongest!” Nishinoya and Tanaka nod their heads in sync, like little bobbleheads. “‘Sides, you’ll probably beat whoever it is!”
“O…kay?” Asahi squeaks out, and then the tournament begins.
It plays out exactly as Daichi thought it would: Kageyama beats Hinata, Tanaka beats Nishinoya, Tanaka beats Kageyama, Asahi beats Tanaka. Amazing. For good measure, Daichi lets Asahi beat him in arm wrestling, and then Suga does the same as well.
“Well done,” Daichi says, already moving to fold up the table. “Now, let’s go. There’s a day left until break, I don’t want to do any more work than I have to, you hear?”
“You’re so strong, Asahi!” Nishinoya shouts, completely ignoring Daichi. “Just as expected from our ace!”
“I’m not…” Asahi chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Matter of fact, I bet you could beat any of the other aces we’ve played! What’s that guy from Seijoh—what’s his name? Oikawa called him—“
“Iwa-chan!” Tanaka crows, and Daichi has to physically stop himself from laughing. “Yeah, Asahi, you could beat Oikawa’s Iwa-chan any day of the week!”
“No—no, I really don’t think I could—“
“You could beat that bald guy from Nekoma too,” Kageyama says, almost thoughtfully. Hinata nods in furious agreement.
“Who, Tora?” Tanaka asks, nodding his head as well. “You could, Asahi! Tora’s my bro, but you were my bro first, y’know?”
“Please do not make me arm wrestle any more people,” Asahi says, almost miserably. “I think you guys are overestimating my strength by a lot.”
“Wait, Daichi.” Suga sidles up to him, a mischievous grin on his face. “Don’t you have Oikawa’s and Kuroo’s phone numbers? What if you…I dunno, set up a little get-together right before Nationals? See who’s really the strongest?”
And this idea, coming from Suga—it may be the worst idea yet. An arm wrestling tournament. A bunch of teenage boys competing to see who’s the strongest. A hotbed for testosterone-laden squabbles and declarations of petty pride and superficial defenses of honor. Daichi cannot think of anything more painfully stereotypically masculine.
Which is exactly why Daichi pulls out his phone and begins drafting a message.
—
Tooru gets text messages from many people—he has a lot of friends after all, being a social butterfly really is tiring. But Sawamura Daichi, captain of Karasuno’s men’s volleyball team, is not normally someone he gets messages from.
And yet, he’s staring down at a message that says: I had a horrible idea. Well, my team had a horrible idea, if you wanted to hear.
“Iwa-chan!” Tooru shouts, and he gets a noncommittal grunt in response. “Karasuno’s captain just messaged me!”
“That’s nice,” Iwa shouts back from where he’s pushing the ball cart back into the gym closet. “I don’t care.”
“Should I answer him?”
“I don’t care!”
“What if he’s suggesting a threesome with me, him, and his rather pretty boyfriend?”
“Like anybody would want to have sex with you,” Iwa snarks, finally emerging from the depths of the closet. “See what he wants.”
Tooru types out a quick message, what do you want, and gets an equally quick response.
My teammates want our ace to have an arm wrestling competition with your ace.
Now this is sure to pique Iwaizumi’s attention.
“Iwa-chan~” Tooru sings, skipping over to his best friend. “Daichi’s message actually involves you!”
“I hope it’s him telling me to punch you in the face,” Iwa mutters as he leans over to look at Tooru’s phone. His eyebrow raises in surprise. “Huh. Or it’s that.”
“You should take him up on the challenge!” Tooru shakes Iwaizumi’s arm back and forth, putting on his best puppy-dog eyes. “C’mon! If you beat him, it’s like we’re getting revenge for when stupid Tobio-chan and Chibi-chan stole our spot from Nationals from us!”
“That makes no sense,” Iwa says, but he looks like he’s genuinely considering it. “Ask Sawamura when we’re doing this.”
—
“Who’s texting you?” Kenma asks, pulling Tetsurou’s phone out of his bag and handing it to him. “Sounds like they really want to talk to you.”
“Hmm?” Tetsurou asks as he shoves his things back into his backpack and slings it over his shoulder. “A lot of people want to talk to me. You jealous?”
Kenma scoffs, wrinkling his nose. He looks down at the phone. “No. It’s Karasuno’s captain.”
“Karasuno?” Tetsurou asks, snatching his phone out of Kenna’s grasp. “Don’t look at other people’s messages, it's rude, or something.”
“Or something,” Kenma mutters, jerking his head towards the gym’s exit. “Hurry up. I want to go home.”
“Right, right.” Tetsurou squints at the message, which reads: I had a horrible idea. Well, my team had a horrible idea, if you wanted to hear. My teammates want our ace to have an arm wrestling competition with your ace.
The text bubble indicating that Daichi’s typing appears and reappears before another message finally pops up:
My teammate wants to specify that he wants, quote, ‘his bro Tora to come so that they can have the manliest arm wrestling match ever known to man’, unquote.
Tetsurou snorts out loud, typing out a message, what’s in it for me?, and then turns to his friend. “Kenma, they want Yamamoto to participate in an arm wrestling competition.”
“That’s nice,” Kenma says idly, already pulling out his PSP. “I hope he has fun with that.”
“Well, Daichi wants me to come,” Tetsurou says as Daichi’s message comes in. Team bonding. Or something. Encouragement for right before Nationals. “Because it’ll be ‘team bonding’. You’re coming with me. And you’re getting Yamamoto to come, because you're his friend.”
“Not a chance,” Kenma says dismissively, shaking his hair out of his eyes.
“Don’t you want to be there when Yamamoto inevitably makes a fool of himself?” Tetsurou grins, leaning down to meet Kenma’s gaze head-on. “Don’t you want to get it on video so you have a record of it forever?”
Kenma considers this. Kenma pulls out his phone. Kenma puts his phone to his ear. Tetsurou smiles.
“Tora. You like proving yourself, right?”
—
“How did Oikawa get my phone number?”
Kenji stares down in bewilderment at the message he’s just received from none other than Oikawa Tooru, captain of Aoba Johsai and person that Kenji has talked to a total of one time. And that was to say, ‘good game’ after they got their asses beat.
“Maybe Moniwa-san gave him your phone number?” Koganegawa asks, picking up a volleyball and tossing it into the cart. From right next to Kenji, Aone raises an eyebrow, looks over at the message, and shrugs.
“Why would Moniwa even have Oikawa’s phone number in the first place?” Kenji sighs, squinting at the message before him. It reads, hiiii futakuchi-chan!!! daichi from karasuno had an idea for a team bonding thing, you in???
"Y'know, because he was a captain, and Oikawa's a captain, and you're now captain—"
“That wasn’t a request for you to actually answer me,” Kenji says as he types out his response, eat shit. Behind him, Koganegawa droops, kind of sadly. “Whatever. He—“
“That’s not a very nice thing to say!” someone says from directly behind him, and Kenji nearly screams and drops his phone. It’s Kamasaki, one of the third years who, for some reason, still keeps showing up to practice, even though he’s already left the team.
“What the fuck?” Kenji demands as he spins around and glares at his upperclassman. “Don’t you have anything better to do? It’s the last day before winter break.”
“Moniwa told me to check in on you guys, that’s all,” Kamasaki says, his voice surly. “You should’ve said yes, that’s Oikawa you’re talking to. Be more polite to your seniors.”
“Fine!” Kenji nearly shouts as he sends another message, not even bothering to see what Oikawa sends after his eat shit message. “Fine, I said yes, happy?”
“You should’ve done that in the first place,” Kamasaki huffs before turning around, ruffling Koganegawa’s hair, and storming away.
Kenji scoffs, rolls his eyes, and then stares down at the messages sent.
From Oikawa: futakuchi-chan!! that’s not very nice!! you haven’t even heard what sawamura’s idea was, it was to have an arm wrestling contest between all the aces!!
From himself: fine sure whatever
A new message that’s just come in from Oikawa: oh my gosh yay!! I’ll text you all the information later!
Fuck.
“Aone,” Kenji says gravely, turning to look at his best friend and boyfriend. “I’ve made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment.”
The only response he gets from Aone is a solemn nod. Right. Of course. What else did he expect?
“I’m gonna get my arm broken, aren’t I?” Kenji sighs, staring down at his phone. Aone nods once more, before patting him on the shoulder in what Kenji thinks is supposed to be sympathy. However, Aone pats him far too hard. Kenji thinks that he may leave bruises. His arm might get broken before this dumb arm wrestling competition even begins.
Fuuuuuck.
—
It’s always a good day when Kuroo Tetsurou decides to text Koutarou, which means that every day is a good day. But today is an even good-er day, because Kuroo’s just texted with a really good idea!
hey man do you feel like participating in an arm wrestling competition?
“Akaashi!” Koutarou shouts in delight over his shoulder. “Kuroo wants to arm wrestle me!”
“That’s very nice, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi calls back, from where he’s nearly folding practice jerseys. “Have fun with that.”
Koutarou texts back, of course!!! but im gonna kick your ass!!!
oh no, Kuroo texts back. I’m not gonna be the one arm wrestling you. im gonna get my arm broken.
Koutarou wrinkles his eyebrows. then who am i arm wrestling??
all the aces from some schools in Miyagi. also yamamoto, but no offense to yamamoto, i think you’ll beat him easily.
“Ohh!!” Koutarou says, out loud, and he turns to Akaashi, who is now standing right next to him. “I’m not arm wrestling Kuroo! I’m arm wrestling all the aces from Miyagi! And also Yamamoto, I think he’s that guy with the mohawk from Nekoma!”
“All of them?” Akaashi asks dubiously, raising an eyebrow. He looks tired. Akaashi looks pretty when he’s tired. “Alright. I wish you the best of luck. I am confident you will get at least third place.”
“At least third place?!” Koutarou shouts, devastated. He grabs Akaashi by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth. His phone drops from his hands, and Akaashi quickly catches it. “Akaashi! Why are you so mean?! Don’t you mean that you think I’ll get first place?!”
“Well, one must always prepare for every situation, Bokuto-san.”
“Akaashi!” Koutarou wails, and Akaashi closes his eyes and shakes his head. He looks even more tired now. “Why do you have such little faith in me?!”
“Are you going to respond to Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asks, deadpan, holding Koutarou’s phone up. Right! Koutarou snatches his phone back from Akaashi and furiously types out a message to Kuroo:
ill be there!!!
—
Wakatoshi is looking forward to a nice, peaceful afternoon with his boyfriend. It is the first day of winter break. He has absolutely nothing to worry about. He has his boyfriend lying next to him in his bed. There is absolutely nothing to do—
“Ooh, looks like someone’s texting ya!” Satori says, slamming a hand on Wakatoshi’s chest and grabbing at his phone, making Wakatoshi cough in the process. “Let’s see who it is!”
Wakatoshi sighs, mentally drafting a response to his mother in the likely case it is her texting him, telling him to come home for the break. He does not want to come home. He would like to stay right here, with his boyfriend in his arms.
“It’s Bokuto,” Satori says, now losing interest in the phone and placing it on top of Wakatoshi’s face. “I thought it’d be your mom.”
Wakatoshi raises his phone above his face, squinting at the message he has received from Bokuto Koutarou.
ushiwaka!!! hi!!!! I haven’t seen you in a long time!!!
Wakatoshi blinks. He types out, Yes, we have not seen each other for quite a while. How have you been?
good!!! Bokuto types back, with an excessive amount of exclamation marks, as always. Not that Wakatoshi minds it—Satori texts in a very similar manner. I heard from Kuroo who heard from Daichi that there’s gonna be an arm wrestling contest!! and that all the aces from miyagi are gonna be participating in it!!! you’re gonna be in it right????
Wakatoshi blinks once more. I have not heard anything about an arm wrestling contest from Sawamura. I do not think it is feasible for every single volleyball ace from every school in Miyagi to participate in such a thing. Will you be participating in it?
He can almost feel Bokuto’s despair through the phone screen. what?!??? you didn’t hear anything??? you have to ask Daichi about it!! I need to beat you in an arm wrestling contest so we can see who’s the strongest once and for all!!
“You better hope everyone plays with their left hands,” Satori says, reading over his shoulder, tracing patterns into his skin. “I think that might be the only way you can come out as the strongest.”
“Hm.” Wakatoshi considers the implications of going to this arm wrestling contest. “Do you think I should go?”
It’s then that Satori’s own phone dings. He looks down at it, then laughs in surprise, showing Wakatoshi the message he’d gotten.
It is from Akaashi Keiji, and it reads, five thousand yen if Bokuto-san beats Ushijima-san in this arm wrestling competition.
“Oh-ho-ho!” Satori chuckles, typing furiously. “Now you gotta participate, ‘Toshi, your honor’s on the line! If you lose, it’ll be embarrassing for me as your boyfriend! You gotta show Akaashi that his boyfriend ain’t shit!”
Wakatoshi furrows his brows. “I did not know Akaashi and Bokuto were dating.”
Satori waves his hand aimlessly. “Well, they’re not actually dating yet, but I’m betting they’ll get together sometime soon!”
Wakatoshi shrugs, making his decision and typing out his response to Bokuto.
Very well. I will see if I will be able to participate in this arm wrestling competition. I will try my hardest not to lose to you.
—
This whole arm wrestling competition idea may have gotten the tiniest bit out of hand, because now Daichi is texting a bazillion different people. Amazing. Regardless, the time and place for this arm wrestling competition has been set: New Year’s Day, at four PM, at Oikawa’s sister’s house, because apparently she was the only one willing to host them.
So some weeks after the initial invitations, Daichi and the rest of his meathead volleyball team traipse out into Sendai, to Oikawa’s sister’s house, still in their New Year’s clothing.
“Daichi!” There’s a positively mischievous look in Oikawa’s eyes as he flings open the door, arms wide. He’s dressed in a pale turquoise kimono and white hakama, the colors of which almost perfectly match Aoba Johsai’s school colors. “Welcome to my dear sister’s humble abode.”
“Give her all my thanks,” Daichi says gratefully as he slips his shoes off. The rest of the Karasuno Idiots—Suga, Asahi, Tanaka, Nishinoya, Kageyama, Hinata—follow suit. “This idea was stupid.”
“No, no!” Oikawa flaps his hands, smiling at the entirety of the team—except for Kageyama, Kageyama gets a mildly disgusted expression—spreading them in a placating gesture. “She’s absolutely thrilled to have you here!”
“She’s really not,” a new voice says, and Oikawa whirls around in alarm. A young woman with the same mousy brown hair as Oikawa makes her way into the hallway, hands on her hips. “But she made an exception since all her baby brother’s friends seemed so nice.”
The young woman extends her hand out to Daichi, and Daichi very reluctantly shakes it. “Oikawa Sakuri. Sorry you have to put up with my idiot brother.”
“I am a delight to have around!” Oikawa protests, and Sakuri-nee-san just sighs and slaps him across the back of the neck. “Hey! I gave you six thousand yen! That was, like, half my allowance!”
“I’m putting that six thousand yen towards a good bottle of wine,” Sakuri-nee-san mutters. “God knows I deserve it.”
“Did someone say wine?”
Everyone turns around to find one Saeko-nee-san getting out of her car, a high-quality bottle of sake tucked under her arm. She shoves her brother aside and proudly holds her hand out to Sakuri-nee-san. "Tanaka Saeko, at your service. I’m the adult responsible for all these idiots.”
Sakuri-nee-san raises an eyebrow, shaking Saeko-nee-san’s hand firmly. Her eyes dart down to the bottle of wine, and she says, “Any chance you’d be willing to share some of that?”
Saeko-nee-san just grins, almost scarily, and allows Sakuri-nee-san to lead her into the dining room. Oikawa makes eye contact with Daichi and just shrugs.
"We're waiting on the guys from Tokyo," Oikawa says as the Karasuno Idiots follow him towards the back of the house. "'Sides that, everyone's already here."
"What the fuck," Daichi and Suga chorus in unison as Oikawa throws open the door to the backyard.
"There's...so many more people than I thought there would be," Daichi begins, staring at all of the people from various Miyagi schools they've played, all of whom are inexplicably also in their New Year's clothing. "Is that—is that Ushiwaka? Who invited him?"
"Certainly not me," Oikawa scowls as Ushijima briefly looks up towards them, then looks towards Tendou, who is wearing the most eye-watering neon pink kimono Daichi has ever seen. "Probably Bokuto, I don't know."
"Do not run away," Suga hisses as he grabs Asahi by the back of his kimono. Asahi sighs in defeat as Tanaka and Nishinoya run up to him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him around. "You gotta represent Karasuno! We can't depend on Tanaka completely!"
There's a vague "HEY!" from Tanaka, a loud peal of laughter from Nishinoya, a lot of indistinguishable shouting from Hinata and Kageyama, and Daichi sighs once more.
This is, indeed, a bad idea.
—
"I don't wanna go!" Kuroo shouts dramatically, pushing Tora in front of him, pointing at all of the people milling about. "Yamamoto, you go!"
"Huh?!" Tora shouts, staring up at his captain. Kuroo has a weird expression on his face, and his hands are raised up in surrender. He's slowly backing away, his red kimono sleeves falling around his elbows. "Isn't this the third-year division?! I'll join when it's the general division, Kuroo-san!"
"Oh, yeah, about that..." Kuroo's weird expression melts away, revealing that smile that Kenma always describes as cat-like. "The third-years aren't arm wrestling. The aces are. That means you're going up against all of them."
Kuroo points at all of the guys with enormous muscles—Azumane and Tanaka from Karasuno, Bokuto from Fukuroudani, and a bunch of guys from Miyagi that Tora doesn't know the names of. But they all look intimidating as well, save for the one guy that has flat brown hair and a bored expression.
Kuroo claps a hand on his shoulder before waving and walking away. "Good luck!"
"What the fuck?!" Tora nearly screams, pointing at his captain's retreating back. "You—you never told me I had to go up against those guys! They're gonna break my arm!"
"You made a promise," Kenma says quietly from next to him, already sneaking his phone out. "You want to prove yourself, don't you?"
Fuck. Fuck! Tora did make a promise, and now he can't go back on his word! That'd be so lame of him!
"Besides," Kenma whispers, shaking his hair out of his eyes. They point with their thumb over to someone standing near the doorway. "You don't want to make a fool of yourself in front of him, do you?"
Tora looks over to where Kenma is pointing, and his heart begins doing backflips.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Because the person Kenma is pointing to is none other than Fukunaga Shouhei, his begrudging best friend and recently acquired boyfriend. Well—the boyfriend part wasn't that recent, but they only began describing themselves as boyfriends recently, and—it's whatever! Not important! All that matters is that Tora can not afford to fuck up in front of Shouhei! Because that'd be super lame and then Shouhei would probably break up with him because he's lame at arm wrestling!
"I believe in you," Kenma says, making the same cat-like grin Kuroo did before trailing after their captain. "You got this."
Tora feels like pulling his hair out of his head. Which—as his sister so helpfully pointed out last night—is not a lot. Akane doesn't know what she's talking about, a mohawk is a perfectly fine hairstyle. It doesn't matter that it doesn't help him get any ladies, because he already has a boyfriend! Ha!
That being said, he might not have the boyfriend for much longer if he doesn't prove himself in this arm wrestling contest.
"Okay!" Karasuno's captain—Sawamura—calls as he raises his hand. Karasuno's vice-captain is scribbling some things down on some pieces of paper. "Thank you all for coming! There's a lot more of you than I thought there would be! Uh—so, aces, come on up here?"
Uh oh. That's me.
"Ace," a voice says suddenly, right into his ear, and Tora yelps and stumbles away. It's his asshole boyfriend, leaning over with his strange, never-blinking, perpetually pinpoint-pupilled eyes staring straight at him. He points both his index fingers over to the table, smiling a little bit. "Win."
"You're so weird," Tora mutters as he swats his boyfriend away. Shouhei's tiny grin has not disappeared. "Wish me luck?"
Shouhei nods solemnly. "You're gonna need it."
What the FUCK?! Does he not have any faith in me??? Does he think I'll lose???? I probably will lose, let's just hope I go up against someone I can probably win against. Who would I probably win against??? FUCK! I'm gonna lose and I'm gonna make a fool of myself in front of my boyfriend and he's gonna break up with me and my sad mohawk and then I will be sad and then Kenma and Shouhei are gonna fucking laugh at me! Because they’re assholes!
"Okay, looks like we got...six people?" Sawamura does a head count. "Wait, no, seven, because Tanaka wanted to join as well. Uh...anyone else want to join?"
The guy whose house they're using—actually, wait, is it his sister's house?—slaps another boy on the back. This guy has a buzz cut, and it's all bleached blonde, save for two black stripes.
"Kyouken's going to play as well!" the brown-haired guy pipes up, and the blonde guy scowls. "Aw, don't be like that!"
Kyouken? Their nickname for that guy is 'Mad Dog'? Fuck, I hope I don't go up against him.
"Okay, eight people." Sawamura nods at his vice-captain, who finishes his writing. Now that Tora's up here, he can see that there are a bunch of slips of paper with their names written on them. Sawamura dumps all of the papers into a bowl and shakes it around. Oh, great. They're being randomized. "Okay, first up is..."
Please don't be me, please don't be me, PLEASE DON'T BE ME—
"Uhh, Tanaka versus Yamamoto?"
FUCK!
"HELL YEAH, BRO!" Tanaka shouts, leaping over a bunch of plants to run over to Tora. He lifts his hand up, and Tora slaps his palm against his.
"BRO!" Tora bellows, because he has to match Tanaka's energy. Because they're bros. "I'M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS, BRO!"
"WE'LL SEE ABOUT THAT, BRO!"
"Please stop shouting," Sawamura mutters, looking like he's about to have a heart attack. "Okay. Uh, sit down at the table and Suga's going to count you guys down."
Both Tanaka and Tora plop themselves down on either side of the table. They slap their palms together, nodding and huffing in determination.
“Bro, Tora,” Tanaka says, staring directly into Tora’s eyes. “Even if I lose this round to you, you’ll always be my favorite Nekoma player.”
Tora may start tearing up. “Bro, Ryuu, same. You’ll always be my favorite Karasuno player.”
“Bro…”
“Bro—“
“THREE!” Suga screams, because he looks like he’s gotten tired of them doing this. “TWO! ONE! GO!”
Immediately, Tora begins pushing against Tanaka’s palm with all his might. Tanaka is doing the same. They must be around the same in terms of strength—it’s all a matter of who can last the longest, then.
I gotta wrap this up as quickly as possible, Tora thinks, biting his lip and pushing even harder. Tanaka furrows his brows and pushes back, even harder. They continue this for a bit, neither one of them gaining that much ground.
And then out of the corner of his eye, he sees something.
He sees his fucking boyfriend walk behind Tanaka and begin making various funny faces in an attempt to make him lose his focus. He sticks his tongue out, he pulls his eyelids back with his fingers, at one point he legitimately begins making a heart with his hands and blowing kisses towards him.
You're joking. You're fucking joking. I'm dating this fucker. I'm actually dating this fucker.
Screw him breaking up with me, maybe I should break up with him—
"TANAKA WINS!" Suga shouts, and the crowd goes wild. Tanaka makes a show of pounding his fists against his chest and screaming. Similarly, Tora makes a show of collapsing onto the table and pounding his fists against the wood.
"YEAHHHHHHHH!!!!" Tanaka screams, clapping his hands together. Behind him, his teammates cheer and bang their fists against various surfaces. "SUCK ON THAT, CITY BOY!!"
"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!" Tora screams, pointing aggressively at his friend, then at Shouhei, who freezes like a deer in headlights. "IT WAS HIS FAULT! HE WAS DISTRACTING ME, AND HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY TEAM!"
Everyone turns to look at Shouhei, who has since scampered away and hid behind Kuroo. Everyone then turns to look at him, and oh, great, now they all probably think I'm lame. Or insane.
"It's okay, bro!" Tanaka says cheerfully, holding his hand out to Tora. Tora slaps his palm against Tanaka's palm, then shakes it. "Next time, yeah?"
"Next time!" Tora shouts, nodding his head. "Next time, I'll beat you for sure!"
The two of them nod their heads in vigorous agreement before Sawamura kicks them off the table.
"Dude," Tora complains to his boyfriend as soon as they're hiding behind the rest of the crowd. "Why'd you do that?! I was gonna win, and I was gonna..."
Shouhei tilts his head, blinking his eyes once. He looks really cute. It's kind of annoying that he looks this cute. The fact that he's in a dark red kimono and white hakama pants doesn't help—it only adds to the very obvious fact that Fukunaga Shouhei is very attractive, sadly.
"I was gonna impress you!" Tora finishes, stupidly, holding his finger up. Shouhei just blinks again, before giggling quietly to himself. "Stop—stop laughing at me, I was going to impress you with my arm wrestling skills!"
His boyfriend brings a hand to his mouth to disguise his laughter, and then—
And then he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Tora's forehead.
Tora feels like he may short-circuit and spontaneously combust, right here, right now, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Miyagi. Well—they're in Sendai, but the point still stands. As far as Tora's concerned, all of Miyagi is in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.
"You're always cool," Shouhei says, that tiny smile still on his face. "Hot stuff."
That statement doesn't even make sense. How can Tora be both cool and hot at the same time? Regardless, Tora's face now vaguely feels like it is on fire. He has to wrench his gaze away from Shouhei and bury his face in his hands. Fuck. Fuck this. Fuck his boyfriend for being so fucking cute.
"Sh—shut the fuck up!"
—
"Okay, next up is..." Kenji watches Sawamura rummage around in the bowl, pulling out two slips of paper at random. He sighs. He fidgets with the sleeves of the stupid salmon-pink kimono his mother forced him into earlier that day. Next to him, Kamasaki and Aone are making use of the dumbbells Kamasaki brought for some reason.
"Why did you bring these?" he asks Kamasaki, who has stripped his kimono top off and replaced it with a DATEKO tank top. He is now pumping a dumbbell up and down. Aone is doing the same thing. "You're not even participating in the arm wrestling contest."
"Well, I was hoping that seeing us do this would motivate you," Kamasaki says, gesturing to himself and Aone. "But, clearly, it's not. Now we're just doing it for the hell of it, isn't that right, Aone?"
Aone gives him a grunt and a nod. Kenji rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to Sawamura. Damn his boyfriend and his one-track mind. Damn his—
"Iwaizumi versus Futakuchi!"
Ah, shit. Damn his life.
"You just cursed me," Futakuchi deadpans as he points two fingers at his eyes, then at his senpai and boyfriend. "I wish you never came here."
"Who would've driven you, then?" Kamasaki calls after Kenji as he makes his slow walk of death towards the table. "Certainly not you!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Kenji waves a hand, then turns his head and stares up into his opponent's eyes.
"Best of luck," Iwaizumi Hajime says, holding his hand up. Kenji just sighs, placing his hand in Iwaizumi's.
"You got this, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa Tooru cheers, clapping his hands. He holds out his phone, and Kenji vaguely sees the outlines of two other boys on the phone screen. "You can't disappoint Mattsun and Makki, now can you?"
"Yeah, Iwa-chan!" Hanamaki shouts, while Matsukawa just whistles. "You got it!"
"Let's just get this over with," Kenji mutters. Iwaizumi nods, and Sugawara starts the countdown.
"THREE! TWO! ONE! GO!"
Immediately, Kenji can tell that he's going to lose this match. Iwaizumi is strong, much stronger than he is, and this was a very big mistake. It should not be him arm wrestling Iwaizumi. It should be Aone. His big, strong boyfriend should be the one arm wrestling to prove his honor, or whatever.
He should try harder, but he doesn't really feel like it. Aone won't be too disappointed, probably. He hears rather than feels his hand hitting the wooden table.
"IWAIZUMI WINS!" Sugawara shouts, much to the delight of all of the Seijoh boys. Oikawa, Matsukawa and Hanamaki on the phone, that second-year setter, that one blonde guy with a buzz cut. Iwaizumi himself does not cheer—he just nods, shakes Kenji's hand, and then walks off.
Kenji just gets up and shrugs, walking over to Aone and Kamasaki. "Well, that's that." Aone pats Kenji's shoulder in consolation. Kenji scoffs, tilting his head. "Not like I cared that much anyway. Just a stupid contest."
Aone pats him once more on the shoulder. Kenji groans, "Don't do that, you're going to make my arm hurt even more."
His boyfriend continues patting his shoulder anyway, because, well—fine, it stings just a little bit to lose in the first round of a dumb arm wrestling contest, and—fine, maybe he'd like to be comforted by his boyfriend. Just a little bit.
—
The good thing about having a crush on Nishinoya Yuu is that he is, for lack of a better word, brilliant. In absolutely everything that he does, Nishinoya Yuu is brilliant. Volleyball. Fist fighting. Popsicle eating.
The bad thing about having a crush on Nishinoya Yuu is that he is currently giving Asahi a back massage. Or rather, his idea of what a back massage is like. Really, it's more like him and Tanaka chopping their hands on his back in an attempt to, quote, "relax his muscles". Really, he thinks that Nishinoya's hands on him are doing the very opposite of relaxing him, but he won't complain.
"We're really good at this," Noya declares as he and Tanaka continue to treat him like a piece of meat, and their hands like a meat tenderizer. "Asahi's sooo gonna beat whoever it is he goes up against!"
"I don't—think you're doing this right," Asahi tries to say, but Noya shushes him. "Oh—okay." He's whipped. He's whipped, and he knows this, and it's sort of sad, really.
"Ooh, I think they're gonna draw the next two people!" Noya shouts, ceasing his chopping for a second. Asahi looks up, over to where Daichi is rummaging around in the bowl of names, and where Suga is scribbling a tournament bracket on a large piece of paper.
"Bokuto—" Daichi says, and there's an immediate uproar from all the people who came from Tokyo. Daichi sighs deeply. Asahi feels like doing the same.
"Dude, you gotta represent all of Tokyo now!" Kuroo shouts, slapping Bokuto on the back. Bokuto screeches, pumping his fist in the air. Akaashi sighs, shaking his head and flicking his fan open, placing it over his mouth. Kenma, meanwhile, is recording on his phone.
"BOKUTO!" Daichi shouts over all of the noise, and everyone quiets down. "Versus Asahi!"
It's as though a boulder has been dropped into the pit of Asahi's stomach.
“OOH!” Noya shrieks excitedly, jumping up and pumping his fist. “You’re up, Asahi! Make us proud!”
“Yeah, bro!” Tanaka shouts, slapping Asahi on the back. “We gotta get two Karasuno guys to the next round!”
Asahi gulps nervously as he shuffles his way towards the table. Bokuto Koutarou is being cheered on by every other Tokyo school member. Not to be outdone, Hinata and Noya quickly begin their own version of a player chant.
“A-SA-HI!” they shout, then smack their palms against the table. Tanaka quickly joins in, and then they rope Kageyama in as well. “A-SA-HI! GET IT! GET IT! A-SA-HI!”
It’s almost drowned out by the shouts of “BO-KU-TO! HEY, HEY, HEY!” that Kuroo and the other Tokyo boys are doing, but Asahi appreciates the gesture nonetheless.
“Karasuno’s ace, huh?” Bokuto asks, the corners of his lips curving upward with mirth. “So I really can’t afford to lose against you, yeah?”
“U—uh—” Asahi looks behind him, to his teammates, for support. They all give him big and bright smiles, but Noya’s—
Noya’s smile is by far the biggest and the brightest of them all. He throws Asahi two thumbs up, nodding his head encouragingly. Asahi nods as well, trying to hype himself up as he turns towards Bokuto.
“I guess neither of us can,” Asahi manages to get out. “Afford to lose, I—I mean. There’s not really any competition where we can afford to lose.”
Bokuto’s eyes widen, and he slaps Asahi on the shoulder. They grab each other’s hands, setting their elbows on the table. “I like this guy!”
“THREE!!” Suga shouts in delight. Asahi’s sure that his malicious delight is entirely directed at him. “TWO!!! ONE!!!! GOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”
As expected from a nationally ranked ace—though he’s heard that Bokuto is only ranked number five—Bokuto is very strong. Those muscles aren’t just for show, then—well, obviously not, what is he, an idiot???
Okay, focus, Asahi tries to tell himself as he grits his teeth through the mild pain Bokuto is putting him through. His hand vaguely feels like it’s getting caught in a drawer. I can’t let Nishi and the rest of the team down. Gotta protect their pride. Gotta be reliable. Gotta—
Bokuto laughs a little bit as he pushes Asahi’s arm further back, just the tiniest bit. “You’re strong, dude! I’m actually kinda worried here!”
“Bokuto-san, please win,” Akaashi, the Fukurodani setter, says as he snaps his fan in front of his face. “I have a couple thousand yen riding on your win.”
“With who, Akaashi?” Bokuto manages to grunt out as he pushes Asahi’s hand further and further back. Asahi strains against him, but to no avail.
Akaashi snaps his fan closed and points it towards Suga. Suga makes eye contact with Asahi and grins, wiggling his fingers in a wave. Asahi can’t even muster up the strength to say something to his traitor of a friend.
Well, great, now I really have to win, otherwise Suga’s going to lose a couple thousand yen. Or something.
“You’re not giving up, huh?” Bokuto asks as Asahi pushes against his hand even harder. Asahi’s hand inches away from the table, and Bokuto’s hand inches towards it. There’s a determined gleam in the Fukuroudani captain’s eyes. “Nice!”
“Well,” Asahi manages to gasp out. “We both got someone that would really like it if we win, and we—can’t both win, so…”
I have to win.
“COME ON, ASAHI!” Noya screams, clapping his hands and running into Asahi’s line of sight. Hinata follows him, and then Tanaka does as well, and then they all begin chanting. “A-SA-HI! GET IT! GET IT! A-SA-HI!”
“Bokuto-san, win this and I’ll buy you yakiniku later tonight,” Akaashi drones from somewhere behind Asahi, and the other guy from Fukuroudani laughs. “With the money I win from Suga-san.”
The determined gleam in Bokuto’s eyes returns in full force. Asahi’s hand is being forced to the table, closer and closer…
“YOU GOT THIS, ASAHI!” Noya screeches, and it is then that Asahi realizes that Suga is not the person he wants to win for. Suga can go broke for all he cares.
But Noya won’t care if I win or lose. He’ll cheer me on no matter what.
So—
“BOKUTO WINS!” Suga shouts, sounding significantly more disappointed at this turn of events. “I AM NOW THREE THOUSAND YEN POORER!”
“Nice job!” Bokuto shouts, as enthusiastic as ever. He claps Asahi on the shoulder so hard, he thinks it might leave bruises. “No hard feelings, man!”
“Uh—yeah!” Asahi replies, a beat late. Bokuto flexes his arm muscles in triumph, and Akaashi is seen collecting his earnings from Suga. Asahi turns around, ready to face his teammates’ disappointment.
There is no disappointment, because his friends are too supportive and good for him. There is only Noya shouting about how he lasted for two whole minutes against a nationally ranked ace, Tanaka shouting about how he he will carry the torch of Karasuno for the rest of this tournament, Daichi and Suga laughing good-naturedly, and Hinata and Kageyama screaming about something in the background.
“Sorry I didn’t win,” he says to Noya as they sit down to watch the next match. Noya just scoffs and punches him in the shoulder, right where Bokuto slapped him on the shoulder.
“Doesn’t matter if you win or lose!” Noya declares with his entire chest. “You lost in a really cool way, and that’s all that matters!”
Asahi chuckles, and then sighs, rubbing his shoulder. Noya laughs, slamming his own shoulder into Asahi’s. He ruffles Asahi’s hair, tugging the hair tie out, which makes Asahi shout in surprise, which then leads to them sort of noogieing each other.
“Get off me!” Asahi half-laughs, half-shouts. Noya just grins, then digs his fingers into Asahi’s scalp even more.
“Nah!” Noya shouts, completely messing up Asahi’s hair. “This is your punishment for losing!”
Once again. Noya is brilliant.
He vaguely feels like defeat isn’t so bad if this is his punishment.
—
Kentarou would not have come to this stupid arm wrestling competition if it weren’t for Iwaizumi asking him to come. Oikawa had asked him roughly four times, and Kentarou told his captain to eat shit every time. And then Iwaizumi asked him, and then he said yes immediately, because he’d jump off a cliff if Iwaizumi asked him to. Iwaizumi’s cool, sue him.
But Kentarou certainly wouldn’t have come to this stupid arm wrestling competition if he knew that fucking Yahaba Shigeru would be coming.
“Why is he here?” Kentarou demands, tugging on his captain’s kimono sleeve. Yaha-bitch is making pleasant conversation with the setters from Tokyo—Akaashi and Kozume. He’s smiling that stupid fucking smile he always smiles—the one he makes around Oikawa, the one he thinks makes him look sooo likeable, but it really just makes him look like a pretentious ass.
“I thought he would be good motivation for you,” Oikawa says cheerfully, smiling his own version of the I-am-a-pretentious-ass smile. “We all know Iwa-chan’s going to end up in first place, but it’d be great if you ended up in second! A win all around for Seijoh!”
Kentarou makes a face. “Well, given that I’m going up against Ushiwaka, I don’t think I’ll end up in any place.”
All the light seems to leave Oikawa’s eyes. “Ah. Well, in that case—“
“Ushijima versus Kyoutani!” Karasuno's captain calls.
Oikawa slaps Kentarou on the back, and his smile only seems to get even wider. “Do your best not to immediately die, Mad Dog!”
“I told you to stop calling me that,” Kentarou snaps, stomping over to the table. This tournament is fucking stupid. His senpai is fucking stupid. This entire thing is fucking stupid.
Ushijima does not say anything, only nodding his head and holding out his hand for Kentarou to take. Kentarou scowls, but takes it anyway.
“THREE! TWO! ONE! GO!”
Kentarou supposes that he’s lucky that Ushijima is playing with his right hand, because he thinks that he’d get utterly destroyed if Ushijima plays with his left hand. Almost immediately, Ushijima forces his hand back towards the table, an intense look in his eyes as he does. Kentarou has barely any energy to push back.
“That’s it, Ushiwaka!” the annoying redhead from Shiratorizawa shouts. If Ushijima’s arm wrestling doesn’t kill him, Tendou’s eye-watering neon pink kimono will. “Top three of all high school aces in allll of Japan!”
“Come on, Kyouken!” Oikawa shouts, his voice comparatively much more shrill than Tendou’s. “You got this!”
Kentarou glances out of the corner of his eye. His teammates are watching—Oikawa with a hopeful expression, Iwaizumi with a neutral expression, and Yahaba with—
What the fuck is he doing with his face??? Why does he look mildly constipated????
“Yo!” Kentarou shouts, briefly snapping his head towards Yahaba. Ushijima falters for just a moment, surprised, allowing for Kentarou to push his hand back, just by an inch. “Dude, stop fucking staring at me like that!”
“What?!” Yahaba shouts back. “I’m not fucking staring at you like—like anything!”
“You are!” Kentarou nearly growls, now turning his head entirely towards Yahaba. “Stop fucking doing it!”
“Pay attention to the match!” Oikawa screeches, waving his hands wildly in the air, pointing aggressively at Ushijima. “Kick Ushiwaka’s ass!”
Yahaba just continues weirdly staring at him. For what reason, Kentarou has no fucking idea. But it pisses him off. Everything Yahaba does pisses him off.
“You better win this!” Yahaba finally shouts, and Kentarou clenches his teeth together. He bites down on the inside of his cheek, focusing on that rather than the way his heart seems to be racing now. He distantly thinks it may be hard enough to draw blood.
He pisses me off so fucking badly.
Well. Ushijima is so close to beating him, and Kentarou for some reason really just wants to say suck it! to Yahaba, so…
He just stops trying. Ushijima slams his hand into the wooden table, and the crowd of high school boys goes wild.
“USHIJIMA WINS!” Sugawara shouts, and Oikawa’s shrill screech of despair reverberates throughout the afternoon sky. Kentarou scowls at Ushijima, Ushijima nods at him, and Kentarou stomps back towards his teammates.
“No, Kyouken!” Oikawa wails, and Iwaizumi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Maybe bringing Yahaba wasn’t motivation, it was a distraction!”
“Shut up,” Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa then turns to wail at him as well. Meanwhile, Yahaba is still staring at him, and it still pisses Kentarou the fuck off.
“The fuck are you staring at?” Kentarou snarls, charging towards Yahaba and grabbing him by the front of his kimono. Yahaba doesn’t even try to defend himself. “It’s real fucking creepy, y’know that?”
For once, Yahaba doesn’t say anything snarky back. He doesn’t say anything at all. And for some reason, that pisses Kentarou off even more. However, Yahaba’s face is turning a bright shade of pink.
“Your face is goin’ pink,” Kentarou says, swatting at Yahaba’s cheeks with his free hand, brushing some stray snowflakes off of him. “Must be the snow, or somethin’.” For some reason, Yahaba’s face only gets pinker after he does this.
“Nothing!” Yahaba finally spits out, slapping Kentarou’s hand until he lets go. “It’s nothing at all!”
And then Yahaba storms off, leaving Kentarou confused as all fuck out.
What’s his problem?
—
After Asahi’s tragic fall from grace, it’s all up to Ryuu to represent Karasuno! He’s still not entirely sure how he became the one to represent Karasuno instead of Asahi, but he’s not going to let this opportunity go to waste!
“Tanaka!” Daichi shouts, and Ryuu jumps to his feet immediately.
“LET’S GOOOOOOOO!” Ryuu shouts, and Hinata and Noya scream along with them. Daichi shakes his head towards him as he observes the tournament bracket. “TIME TO KICK SOME ASS!!”
“Versus Iwaizumi,” Daichi announces gravely.
All of the celebration from Karasuno immediately stops as Iwaizumi gets up, cracking his knuckles. Ryuu’s heart begins to sink. He’s up against Iwaizumi. That is indeed how tournament brackets work, yes.
“I don’t think you could have won against Bokuto or Ushijima anyways,” Kageyama says, and Noya immediately jumps to Ryuu’s defense.
“Shut up, runt!” Noya shouts, and Ryuu feels a pang of pride at the fact his best friend is defending him so vehemently. “Don’t underestimate Tanaka, he’s gonna make an okay replacement for Asahi when he’s gone!”
“Yeah!” Tanaka shouts, before realizing what exactly his best friend just said. “Wait—wait, what?! What the hell, I’m going to be an even better ace than Asahi, just you wait—”
“Will the gentlemen arm wrestling please take their seats?” Daichi calls impatiently, and Ryuu is shoved over to the table, where Iwaizumi is waiting for him.
“THREE!” Suga shouts, pumping his fist into the air. “TWO! ONE! GO!”
Ryuu then proceeds to feel a deep pang of sympathy for Futakuchi, because Iwaizumi’s grip strength is not something that should be humanly possible. Within seconds, Iwaizumi pushes Ryuu’s hand nearly all the way back, until it’s almost brushing the wood. Ryuu counters with as much strength as he can muster.
Come on. I can't fail. I gotta win this. I gotta—
"RYUUUUU!!!"
"Oh my god," Ryuu mutters as his grip on Iwaizumi's hand loosens for just the tiniest bit, allowing Iwaizumi to push him even closer to the table. "Saeko! Shut up!"
"Don't say that to your older sister!" Saeko runs over to him, holding up the hem of her kimono as she does. She smells faintly like rice wine, but there's not a single piece of evidence that she's been drinking, save for a slight pinkness in her cheeks. Ryuu sincerely hopes that his sister will teach him how to drink like that when he turns twenty. It's almost magical. "Are ya winning?"
"No," Ryuu manages to hiss out, gritting his teeth through the pain. "I'm kinda losing here. Ow. Shit."
"No fucking swearing!" Saeko shouts, slapping him on the back of the neck. Ryuu shouts, and he's pretty sure this round should be done over, because there's somebody fucking with his chances to win this arm wrestling contest. Unfortunately, nobody objects. "C'mon, put your back into it! I didn't raise a slacker!"
"You try arm wrestling this guy!" Ryuu shoots back, jerking his head towards Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi doesn't even dignify him with a response, too focused on getting Ryuu's hand down to the table as quickly as possible.
"Come on, Ryuu!" Saeko screams once more, clapping her hands once. Annoyingly enough, her encouragement seems to be working, as Ryuu pushes back against Iwaizumi's hand, even harder than before. In his periphery, Ryuu can see his sister grinning like a maniac. "That's my baby brother! Woo!"
Unfortunately, Oikawa picks that exact time to shout, "IWA-CHAN, IF YOU WIN THIS ONE, I'LL GIVE YOU A KISS ON THE FOREHEAD!"
"SHUT UP!" Iwaizumi roars back, but Ryuu feels his hand inching ever closer to the table, until finally, the battle ends with a singular, definitive THUMP.
"IWAIZUMI WINS!" Suga shouts, and Tanaka and the rest of Karasuno let out a furious screech. Oikawa and the rest of Seijoh—well, maybe just Oikawa, because the rest of Seijoh, Yahaba and Kyoutani, are just staring awkwardly at each other—whoop and cheer Iwaizumi's name. Oikawa then runs over and makes good on his promise by grabbing Iwaizumi by the shoulders and pressing the most obnoxious, wet-sounding kiss to his ace's forehead. Ew. Not that Ryuu's homophobic, he just hates PDA. He's not jealous either! He swears!
"Aw, that's okay, Ryuu!" Saeko coos as he gets out of his chair and hangs his head in shame. His sister grabs him around the shoulders and digs her knuckles into his scalp, laughing all the while. "Next time, yeah?"
And then his older sister presses a similarly obnoxious, wet-sounding kiss to the top of his head, and Ryuu makes all manner of disgusted noises. "Ew! Gross! Dude, don't do that!"
"My baby brother's all grown up," Saeko continues cooing, now wrapping both her arms around his shoulders and choking him in a hug. "So strong, so brave." Ryuu swats at his sister's face until she lets go.
"I wish I could get kissed by Saeko-nee-san," Noya whispers in awe as Ryuu makes his way back towards Karasuno. Hinata nods his head in furious agreement. Kageyama just blinks in confusion.
"Your sister's so cool!" Hinata says, waving his hands around. "Man, I wish I had a cool older sister like her!"
Ryuu considers this, then nods slowly. Yeah, his sister is pretty cool. She drove them all here, she bought them all snacks for later, and she even cheered him on, even when she probably knew he would lose. He can’t really think of any other people who would do that for him, besides maybe Noya—but Noya can’t drive.
"Yeah," Ryuu says sagely, staring at his sister as she opens another bottle of rice wine to share with Oikawa's sister. Her giggling echoes throughout the air as he turns to look back at his teammates. "My sister is pretty cool."
—
As a fellow haver of terrible ideas, Satori thinks this entire tournament is an absolutely amazing idea. He gets to watch his big strong boyfriend show off his strength, he gets to make bets with Akaashi and Suga and Kuroo and make money, he gets to watch Oikawa fawn over Iwaizumi, with neither of them realizing they're in love with the other. Win-win-win all around!
"Bokuto versus Ushijima!"
"This is the big one," Satori whispers as he leans over to Akaashi. "Remember. Five thousand yen, yeah?"
"My memory is impeccable," Akaashi whispers back, flicking his fan in front of his face with a SNAP! "And I can assure you that Bokuto-san will not lose."
"Do you just like flicking that thing around?" Akaashi's teammate, Konoha, asks as he stares at Keiji, who is fluttering his fan in front of his face. Satori would make a joke about Akaashi being gay as fuck, but he's wearing a neon pink kimono, so he can't really talk. Akaashi, from where he's hiding his face from behind that fan, nods proudly.
"Welp, since I can't beat you this year in Nationals, Ushiwaka," Bokuto says, slapping his palm against Wakatoshi's. Satori hisses. Ooooh, too soon. "I'll beat you in this arm wrestling contest!"
“THREE!” Sugawara shouts, and Akaashi and Satori turn their attention towards the table. Their boyfriends are staring directly into each others’ eyes. Sorry—Satori’s boyfriend is staring directly into Akaashi’s crush’s eyes. Satori wonders when Akaashi will get his head out of his ass and actually get with Bokuto.
"TWO!"
"We shall see about that," Wakatoshi rumbles, and Satori nearly swoons. God, his boyfriend is so hot. Akaashi is staring at him over his fan with an absolutely disgusted look in his eyes.
"ONE!"
"When I win this bet, you better not give me my money in coins like you did last time," Akaashi hisses, leaning over to whisper in Satori's ear.
Satori just grins. "No promises, 'Kaashi."
"GO!"
Their paramours are, sadly, very evenly matched, with Bokuto having just the slightest edge over Wakatoshi, because Wakatoshi's not using his left hand. This is very unfair, in Satori's humble opinion. Wakatoshi should be allowed to use his left hand and crush Akaashi's boyfriend—sorry, crush—into the ground.
"Just so y'know," Satori declares, crossing his arms. "If he were using his left hand, it'd be over in an instant!"
"We'll see about that," Akaashi snarks, snapping his fan closed. "Why don't we try with our left hands next round?"
Konoha laughs at Akaashi. "You know the one playing is Bokuto, right?"
"Bokuto-san is playing for my honor," Akaashi says simply, and those are the gayest fucking words Satori has ever heard out of anybody's mouth. And those are, in fact, the last words heard before Bokuto slams Wakatoshi's hand into the table, whooping all the while.
“BOKUTO WINS!” Suga shouts.
"I DID IT!" Bokuto shouts, throwing his hands into the air and spinning around. Akaashi just chuckles, smiling sweetly in a way that may make Satori throw up. "I DID IT, AKAASHI!" Wakatoshi just nods his head in defeat, standing up to leave the table.
Akaashi grins maniacally, holding his hand out and curling his fingers up. "My five thousand yen, if you wouldn't mind, Tendou-san."
Satori sneers, digging the bills out of his pocket and slapping them into Akaashi's hand. And then he hesitates, realizing—
"Hey, wait, you said they could use their left hands in the next round," Satori says, a slow smile dawning on his face. Meanwhile, there is an abject look of horror slowly dawning on Akaashi's face. "You're a guy of your word, aren't you, 'Kaashi?"
"I—" Akaashi begins to say, but is immediately cut off by Bokuto's shouting.
"Ooh! Yeah, let's go again!" Bokuto shouts, sitting his ass back down, and Wakatoshi startles back to attention. "I can beat Ushiwaka even left-handed!"
"Please consider—" Akaashi tries to say again, but Wakatoshi is nodding and sitting back down at the table. He sighs, then waves his hand and looks back towards Daichi. "Very well. Can they go again?"
Daichi just shrugs, and Sugawara giggles. "Sure, why not?"
Satori pats his boyfriend's shoulder, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Wakatoshi turns to look up at him with that adorable furrow in his brows. "Knock 'em dead, Ushiwaka!"
"I am not trying to kill Bokuto," Wakatoshi says, still looking up at Satori while putting his left hand up. "But very well."
Satori catches Akaashi's eye, grinning like a maniac.
Oh, you're not even going to know what hit you, my dear Akaashi Keiji. I am going to—well, I'm going to win my five thousand yen back, so it's more like a net nothing for the both of us, but more importantly than that—
I'm going to prove that my boyfriend is better than yours.
—
Keiji is in love with Bokuto Koutarou for many reasons. His passion for everything about life makes Keiji want to answer it with his own. He brightens up a room just by walking into it. He tells Keiji that his sets are the best. These are all perfectly valid reasons to be in love with Bokuto Koutarou.
His unbelievable stupidity is, unfortunately, one of those very reasons as well.
"Bokuto-san," Keiji hisses, leaning down to whisper into his crush's ear. "I was about to walk away with five thousand yen. I was going to put it towards that yakiniku I promised you earlier."
Bokuto just waves him off leisurely, turning his attention back to Ushijima and offering his left hand. "Don't worry, Akaashi! When I'm done with this, you can buy double the amount of yakiniku with the money you win from Tendou!"
Keiji narrows his eyes as he glares back over at Tendou. Tendou merely smirks, wiggling his fingers in a slow wave.
"That is, if you win," Keiji hisses again, snapping his fan in front of his face. He likes this fan an obnoxious amount. "Don't you remember how Ushijima is famed for—I don't know, his extremely strong left hand?"
"Akaashi, it'll be fine!" Bokuto nods his head towards Suga, who begins the countdown. "'Sides, how much difference can one hand make?"
"THREE, TWO, ONE, GO!"
His idiot crush's idiotic words are immediately rebuked when Ushijima immediately slams Bokuto's left hand into the table. Bokuto is still smiling self-assuredly as he looks down at his hand, and Keiji sees the exact moment his smile of confidence turns to one of shock.
Ohh, my God. You idiot. You fool. Why am I in love with you? Why am I hopelessly in love with you?
Tendou, on the other hand, begins shouting in delight, like the asshole he is. He throws his hands up in the air, screaming, "MY FIVE THOUSAND YEN! GIVE IT BACK, 'KAASHI, GIVE IT BACK!"
"NO, WAIT!" Bokuto screeches, standing up as well, throwing his hands out. "One more chance, please? I wasn't ready! I'll get it next time, I swear!"
Everyone looks back towards a very tired-looking Daichi. The boy sighs and throws his hands up in surrender. "Do whatever you want. Suga, you're taking over."
Suga whoops in delight, and Bokuto and Ushijima gear up to arm wrestle one more time. Keiji sighs and clenches his teeth.
"Ten thousand yen," Bokuto says cheerfully, looking up at Keiji with all of the hope in the world in his eyes. "Think about how much yakiniku that'll buy, huh, Akaashi?"
"I'll be using some of that to buy some nanohana," Keiji mutters, waving his fan in front of his face. "Bokuto-san, you better win this thing."
Bokuto nods his head vigorously. "I will! I will!"
"THREE, TWO, ONE, GO!"
Bokuto and Ushijima have around the same level of strength, but Ushijima is undoubtedly stronger than Bokuto with his left hand. There's a marginal chance that Bokuto will win—I'm sorry to say this, but it looks like—
He's not going to win. Ushijima will win, and I'll have to give this five thousand yen back. So it's not really a loss, but it certainly feels like one.
Goddammit, Tendou, I was going to buy yakiniku with your money. But my stupidly endearing crush just had to open his mouth and you just had to open your mouth, and—
"UUUUUU-SHI-JI-MA!" Tendou, as though reading Keiji's mind, begins screaming like a lunatic. He bangs his fists on the table, then shouts, "HEY! HEY! UUUUUUUU-SHI-JI-MA! HEY! HEY!" Then he begins circling the table, literally singing his boyfriend's praises. Ugh, couples. Keiji hates them.
Not to be outdone, Keiji glances over at Konoha and nods. You know what to do.
Konoha nods, immediately drumming his hands on the table and shouting, "HEY, HEY HEY! BO-KU-TO! HEY, HEY, HEY! BO-KU-TO!"
The rest of the boys from Tokyo begin coming to Bokuto's defense, with Kuroo shouting, "COME ON, DUDE! You gotta show these country bumpkins who's boss!"
"Don't let him get to you, Ushiwaka!" Inexplicably, the Karasuno boys leap to Ushijima's aid, running over to his side. "There's nothing wrong with Miyagi!" Tanaka screeches, and Nishinoya and Hinata holler in aggressive agreement.
The group of high school boys then devolves into so much shouting and screaming, it would put a Nationals-level volleyball game to shame. Everyone begins crowding around the two of them—even Oikawa, though Keiji sees that he's doing his best to keep his distance from Ushijima.
But it's no use. Slowly but surely, Ushijima pushes Bokuto's hand back towards the table. Keiji sees a single bead of sweat run down Bokuto's forehead, and then—
"USHIJIMA WINS!" Suga shrieks, and all of the Tokyo boys—save for Kenma and Keiji himself—fall to the ground and begin wailing in despair.
"NO!" Kuroo screams, dramatic as ever. He pounds his fist against the ground, then raises his palms towards the heavens, and Yamamoto and Konoha do the same. "NOOOOOO!!!"
"DAMMIT!" Bokuto leaps up from his seat, screeching, pointing at Ushijima. "ANOTHER ONE! ANOTHER TRY!"
"Nope!" Tendou sings, walking over with such tiny and rapid steps, it almost looks like he's gliding. Like a malicious little fairy. He holds out his hand, and he smiles so wide, he has to squint his eyes closed. "My money, Akaashi dearest?"
Keiji scoffs, slaps the five thousand yen he just won from Tendou back into Tendou's hand, and then turns away. Bokuto gets up and trails after him, eyes like a kicked puppy.
"So does this mean no yakiniku?" Bokuto asks, eyes wide, and Keiji sighs. He ruffles Bokuto’s hair and shakes his head.
"I still have some money. It’s not the end of the world,” he tells his crush, and Bokuto immediately perks up again. He grabs Keiji in a tight hug, nearly lifting him off the ground. "Ow—ow, you're welcome, Bokuto-san."
"Wait," Konoha says suddenly, pointing between the two aces. "Who won, then? Because if Bokuto won with his right hand, but Ushijima won with his left hand—"
"Tie!" Suga declares, raising his hands above his head. "Both of them will face Iwaizumi in the finals!"
"Ooh, this should be easy!" Bokuto says, and Keiji represses a sigh. His crush really is so endearingly stupid.
—
Koutarou is having an absolutely amazing time. He gets to arm wrestle his friends, he gets to see Akaashi dressed up all pretty in a kimono that matches his eyes, and he gets yakiniku later! What a great day!
“Bokuto versus Iwaizumi,” Daichi calls, and Ushijima slides out of his seat and is replaced by Iwaizumi. Koutarou has met Iwaizumi a couple of times, not really enough to know him well, but he nods cheerfully towards him anyways.
“Let’s have a good game!” Koutarou says, and Iwaizumi gives him a stoic nod in response. He looks kinda like Akaashi, if Koutarou squints. Similar shaggy hairstyle, similar narrow eyes, similar dark kimonos. But his Akaashi is a hundred times—no, a thousand times prettier than Iwaizumi. And that’s why Koutarou needs to win this arm wrestling contest! For his Akaashi’s honor!
“THREE, TWO, ONE, GOOOOOOO!!”
Koutarou pushes his hand against Iwaizumi’s, and—huh. That’s strange. Iwaizumi’s hand isn’t budging. Even with Ushiwaka, Koutarou was able to push his hand back, just the tiniest bit.
So Koutarou pushes back even harder, but still—nothing. He huffs, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Akaashi watching him with an attentive eye. He can’t see Akaashi’s face from behind his fan, but he’s sure he’s making the Face—the face he makes when he’s thinking really hard about something.
I gotta win this! Akaashi said he thought I’d get in the top three, but I wanna get into the top one! Top one of one!
“Come on, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa shouts, coming to Iwaizumi’s defense. The rest of Karasuno makes some vague noises of agreement as well. “Come onnnnn!!”
“You’re a real tough one, huh?” Koutarou manages to ask, and Iwaizumi looks up. The other boy just gives him a shrug, and Koutarou looks down at his hand and—huh. Is it just him, or is his hand getting pushed back even more? Well, the only thing to do is to push back even harder! So Koutarou does, but Iwaizumi’s hand doesn’t seem to move an inch.
“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says from behind him. “Less talking, more winning, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Koutarou turns around to give his Akaashi a bright smile. “You got it, Akaashi!”
Akaashi’s face goes a bit slack as Koutarou says this, and Koutarou finds out why a couple seconds later as his hand hits the table.
“IWAIZUMI WINS?!” Sugawara shouts, sounding just as confused as Koutarou feels. He hears the wailing of his friends from Tokyo, and he feels himself droop a little.
NO! NOOOOOOO!! I FAILED! I FUCKED UP! I DIDN’T WIN, AND NOW AKAASHI’S GONNA SCOLD ME! HE’S GONNA BE SAD! I MADE HIM SAD!! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says as Koutarou gets up, his face unreadable. He fidgets with his fan, with his fingers, with the hem of his kimono. He’s cute when he fidgets—it’s one of Akaashi’s many quirks that Koutarou has fallen in love with. Akaashi takes a deep breath in, and Koutarou steels himself for the lecture of disappointment he’s about to receive.
“Good job, Bokuto-san.”
Koutarou blinks. Blinks once. Blinks twice. No frowns of disappointment? Is Akaashi under some kind of spell? “Eh?”
Akaashi scoffs, flicking his fan in front of his face and hiding his mouth. “I am saying you did a good job, Bokuto-san. Take my praise while I am giving it out so freely.”
“Right!” Koutarou nods his head, planting his hands on his hips. “I did do a good job! Thank you for noticing, Akaashi!”
And then Akaashi scoffs once more, and—did Akaashi just roll his eyes at him?! How dare he! He still looks cute while doing it, but how dare he! Koutarou, enraged, pushes Akaashi’s fan down to find—
Oh.
Oh, he’s smiling.
WHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCK WHY DOES HE LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL WHEN HE SMILES LIKE AN ANGEL SENT DOWN FROM ABOVE WHATTHEFUCK—
“I am proud of you,” Akaashi says sincerely, though Koutarou barely hears it over the sound of his brain melting through his ears. His crush looks past him, then he sighs. “Although, I did just lose all of your yakiniku money to Oikawa.”
“Aka-chan~” Oikawa sings as he sidles up to the two of them. “My winnings?”
Akaashi sighs as he hands over the money, and Koutarou finds that he looks beautiful even then.
—
“Alrighty, Ushiwaka,” Satori says as he claps his hands together. “This is it! The final boss! After you win this one, you’ll be able to say you’re the strongest ace in all of Miyagi and Tokyo!”
“We cannot be so sure about that,” Wakatoshi says as he meticulously rolls up the sleeves of his kimono, careful not to wrinkle it. “In any case, I will have to actually beat Iwaizumi before we declare such a thing.”
“I got faith in you, ‘Toshi!” Satori grins, throwing his arms up into the air, his kimono sleeves falling around his elbows as he does. Wakatoshi does not understand why exactly Satori needed to choose a neon pink kimono, but he’s long since gotten used to his boyfriend’s many quirks.
There’s a determined gleam in Satori’s eyes as he punches Wakatoshi in the shoulder and grins. “You’re Miracle Boy Wa-ka-to-shi, ain’t ya?”
Wakatoshi considers this, then shrugs. “I suppose I am.”
Behind him, Daichi calls out—“Ushijima versus Iwaizumi!”
Satori kisses him on the forehead, says, “Good luck!!”, and then Wakatoshi is sitting down at the table, Iwaizumi in front of him.
“Ushiwaka,” Iwaizumi says, holding his hand out—his left hand out. “Consider this as revenge for the last few years.”
He wants to beat me at my own game, Wakatoshi thinks distantly as he clasps his left hand in Iwaizumi’s. He looks out of the corner of his eye, and he finds Tendou nodding in determination. I must not let him.
“Very well,” Wakatoshi says, and Sugawara begins the countdown. “I’d like to see you try.”
“THREE! TWO! ONE! GO!”
Wakatoshi thought that playing with his left hand would give him an advantage, just like it did in his last match with Bokuto. It is, after all, the one trait that he has that is able to put him a cut above the rest as an ace.
He is sorely mistaken, as Iwaizumi seems to be ambidextrous.
“COME ON, USHIWAKA!” Tendou shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth. His boyfriend's voice is as loud as at least ten other high school boys. Oikawa and the rest of the Seijoh players cheer loudly for Iwaizumi in response. The rest of the Karasuno boys seem to be split between supporting him and supporting Iwaizumi. The Date Tech boys are sort of just silently observing. The Tokyo boys, meanwhile, are all just generally making a ruckus.
As he’s doing his best to push against Iwaizumi's sort of insane strength, he catches Oikawa staring at him, while also doing his best not to look like he’s staring at him. Oikawa must be off his game, if Wakatoshi is able to tell that he’s so obviously staring at him.
Their rivalry—at least, Satori tells him that Oikawa thinks it’s a rivalry, because Wakatoshi has never really felt any ill will towards Oikawa in all their years playing against each other—has been ongoing ever since they were in junior high. Wakatoshi does not think there is any major cause for the rivalry, so he’s unsure how it even started. Well—except for the fact that he still believes that Oikawa would have benefitted greatly by coming to Shiratorizawa instead of Aoba Johsai, but he does not believe that counts as a valid reason. It’s just the truth, nothing more.
It’s strange, really. Why does Oikawa dislike him so much? Wakatoshi knows he can be blunt and socially inept, but he thinks that the frown or scowl or sneer or otherwise disgusted look that Oikawa shoots his way every time they make eye contact is completely unwarranted.
Wait. Oikawa is smiling at him right now. That smile that he always seems to reserve for victory. That is—that is a nice change, but what brought it on—?
“IWAIZUMI WINS AGAIN?!” Sugawara screams, part in delight, part in confusion. Wakatoshi blinks, looks down at the table, and finds that Iwaizumi has pinned his hand down to the table. Ah. He must have gotten distracted.
The crowd erupts into chaos. The Seijoh boys rush forward, shouting and screaming and nearly jumping on top of Iwaizumi. There are genuine tears of joy in Oikawa’s eyes. Everyone else seems absolutely stunned, with the most stunned person being—
Satori’s mouth has dropped wide open, he’s crouching down low to the ground, and he’s clutching at his hair like he’s about to rip it out. Ah, he probably just lost his boyfriend a couple thousand yen. He should probably apologize for that.
“AND THERE YOU HAVE IT!” Sugawara shouts, vaulting over his table to get to Iwaizumi. He grabs Iwaizumi by the wrist, raising his hand high in the air. “THE STRONGEST ACE IN ALL OF MIYAGI AND TOKYO—IWAIZUMI HAJIME!”
Iwaizumi lets out one guttural scream of victory, pumping both his fists in the air, which is followed by Oikawa's shriek of delight, which is then followed by Akaashi's and Satori's twin wails of despair. Ah. Judging by the fistfuls of yen bills Oikawa's waving around, they both have probably just lost a lot of money.
"I am sorry," Wakatoshi says, approaching his despondent boyfriend. "I have besmirched your honor, and I have probably caused you to lose a substantial amount of yen. I apologize. I will work to become stronger."
He takes his boyfriend’s hand, and Satori's face immediately switches from sad to mischievous as he makes eye contact with Oikawa. "Oh, don't worry," he says as he clutches at Wakatoshi's hands. "Oikawa can have all the yen he wants, but he'll never have this."
And then with his other hand, he grabs Wakatoshi by the back of the neck, tugging his head forward, and Wakatoshi feels their lips crash into each other. He can feel how Satori's smiling as he kisses him, and he smiles as well. In the distance, he can hear Oikawa screeching in disgust as he watches them.
Being a nationally ranked ace is a good thing to be, but being Tendou Satori's boyfriend is an even better thing to be.
—
"Stop screaming," Hajime says in exasperation as Tooru jumps around, waving his handfuls of yen bills in the air. "We get it, you made a shitload of money betting on me, big deal."
"Ten thousand yen, Iwa-chan!" Tooru emphasizes, almost skipping along behind him as he counts and recounts his yen bills. "Ten thousand yen, you know what I can buy with that kind of money?"
"Godzilla merchandise," Hajime mutters, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "For me. Because you wouldn't have won all of this without me."
"Aww, Iwa-chan!" Tooru skips in front of him, hands clasped behind his back. "Of course I will! I'll buy you that big plush that you wanted for Christmas, it'll be like a late Christmas present. Oh—wait! I forgot something!"
And then Tooru's running back into his sister's house, and Hajime sighs, rubbing a hand against his face.
He feels like he should feel something more after beating four people—two of which are part of the top five high school aces in all of Japan—in an arm wrestling tournament, but all he feels is pretty damn tired. And his arm is cramping. He doesn't even get a medal or a ribbon or anything—
"TA-DA!" Tooru shouts, returning and throwing something over Hajime's neck and nearly wrestling him to the ground. "For you, Iwa-chan!"
"What the fuck—" Tooru's hands are all over Hajime's head and shoulders, and Hajime has to take a second to swat him away and actually look at what's on him. He looks down to find that a paper sash with kanji spelling out CHAMPION in black sharpie is draped over his body.
Hajime is, oddly enough, touched. He thinks he may hang this up in his closet, in the very back, where Tooru can't see when he visits.
"Good job, Iwa-chan," Tooru says, much more seriously this time. He plants both his hands on Hajime's shoulders, shaking him a bit. "I'm proud of you. You beat Ushiwaka! How does it feel to beat Ushiwaka?"
"Feels..." Hajime glances down at his best friend's hands, where they're both firmly clasped onto his shoulders. He had rolled his sleeves all the way up to arm wrestle, and they’re still rolled up, and Tooru's nails dig into his bare skin as he stares intensely into his eyes. "Good."
Not as good as the way your fingertips against my skin feels, but, y'know. Still good.
"HEY! TOBIO-CHAN!" And then Tooru's taking his hands off of Iwaizumi's shoulders, whirling around angrily as he points towards Kageyama. Kageyama has a bowl full of daifuku mochi, and his and Hinata's cheeks are stuffed full of the stuff. "WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!"
"YOUR SISTER GAVE THEM TO ME!" Kageyama screams back as all of the ravenous teenage boys begin descending onto the bowl of sweet treats. “SHE TOLD ME NOT TO GIVE ANY TO YOU!”
"GIVE ME SOME!" Tooru grabs Hajime by the wrist and begins dragging him back into the chaos, yammering all the while. All Hajime can do is stumble along beside him. "BETRAYED, BACKSTABBED BY MY OWN SISTER, I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS—"
You are so stupid, Hajime thinks distantly as he’s dragged back into the fray. But I entered this stupid arm wrestling contest for you. I won this stupid arm wrestling contest for you.
And really—is there any better reason to win an arm wrestling contest than because you're in love with your best friend and would do anything he says?
No, Hajime thinks as he's dragged off to be crowned Japan’s Arm Wrestling Champion of 2013 by his friends and enemies. No, I don't think there is.
