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Semi Eita was an attractive bastard. Shirabu could admit that much. Everyone at Shiratorizawa agreed that he was pretty enough to ‘make the gods weep’ or whatever. What made this all the more unbearable was the fact that Semi walked around looking effortlessly gorgeous, oblivious to the fact that his photos were on everyone’s shrines.
But strangely enough, Semi had apparently never been confessed to until the middle of third year when a pink envelope dropped out of his locker. Goshiki gasped and Tendou oohed and half the room was on him in an instant while Semi had the audacity to look surprised as he gawked at the heart on the envelope.
Shirabu had muttered under his breath, “Why are you acting like you’ve never received a confession before?”
Despite the clamouring around him, Semi heard. “Because I haven’t.”
“Whaaat?” Goshiki said, outraged. “No way, Semi-san! But you’re so good looking.”
“It’s the personality,” Shirabu said, even quieter but Semi had bat hearing.
He glared. “Green doesn’t suit you, Shirabu.”
No, Shirabu was not jealous, okay? Why would he be? The only other thing aside from looks Semi had going for him was probably that stellar ego and arrogance. And maybe the fact that he was a halfway decent setter and cared a lot about his kouhai – other than Shirabu, that is. But other than that, he had no sense of humour and he was the bossiest guy Shirabu had ever met. He was not jealous.
“I just can’t comprehend why anyone would want you.”
Kawanishi raised his eyebrows like he had a lot to say about that but one look from Shirabu kept his mouth shut.
Ushijima stepped before war broke out. “Alright, alright. Let’s get to the gym.”
It wasn’t until halfway through practice that Shirabu realised; Semi didn’t mean being jealous of the person who’d confessed, but him. It messed him up enough to let the ball slip through his fingers and smack in square in the face.
~
Semi Eita was an irritating bastard. He was elusive to the team’s prodding about his response to the confession. He evaded it like his life depended on it.
The next day, Tendou swung his arm over Semi’s neck and asked with a wriggle of his eyebrows, “So does Semisemi have a new girlfriend, now?”
Semi frowned as if he had no idea what Tendou was talking about. “What?”
“The confession, Eita!”
“Oh, that.” And he just stopped right there. No further explanation given. Just merely brushing Tendou off, claiming he needed to change.
Another time Yamagata asked, “Hey, Eita. Have you responded to the letter?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because we’re your friends and also because we haven’t had good gossip since the girls’ team captains started dating.”
Semi rolled his eyes. “We’re not a bunch of middle-aged women.”
Then it was Tendou again a week later, whining, “Eiiiiiita. At least tell us who it is.”
“It’s not any of your business!”
“Eita-kun, I came to this school prepared to write fanfiction about my teammates’ love life-”
“You came to play volleyball.”
“-and none of these guys have given me anything to work with in these three years. You’re my last hope.”
Yamagata squawked something about having dated while Semi almost throttled Tendou as he hissed, “What kind of half-baked reason is that? We’re not your manga characters. You can’t just…”
It was driving Shirabu up the walls. Anyone Semi talked to suddenly became the potential mystery admirer and Shirabu found himself glaring at random people for no goddamned reason other than the fact that they talked to Semi.
But Shirabu was not jealous. Of anyone.
He was simply…curious. Yes, that was it.
Later in the week, Shirabu happened to sit next to Semi in the library. He said ‘happened’ but it was more like Semi wrestled the seat next to him from the third year who was sitting there. That was a thing, too. Semi had a tendency to barge into Shirabu’s spaces uninvited, unconsented. Semi never left him alone, at practice or outside and it used to fuck with Shirabu so much in his first year because why? Why was this really attractive asshole senpai seeking him out all the time?
It turned out, Semi Eita just had a mum complex. Anyone and everyone he could mother, he would.
Tsutomu, your bottle is still full. Go get a drink.
Taichi, get that wrist of yours checked out at the nurse’s.
Satori, don’t forget to study. You have a maths test tomorrow.
Shirabu, for fuck’s sake, eat your damned broccoli.
He was, evidently, much nicer to everyone else.
This time, though. This time Semi sat next to him, Shirabu was determined to get the first word in before Semi said something about getting his nose out of textbooks.
“Why won’t you tell anyone?” he asked.
Semi paused digging in his pencil case and blinked at him.
“About the girl who confessed and your response.”
Semi shrugged as he continued digging. “Because that’s between me and them.”
Then why was it screwing with Shirabu’s head? He turned back to his differential graphs. “I assume you said no.”
“Why do you say that? Where the hell is my- ah.” Semi muttered the last part.
Shirabu watched him take out a purple pen from the corner of his eyes. “Because if you accepted, we would’ve seen you with her by now.”
Semi uncapped the pen with his teeth, speaking around the lid, “Unless you’ve been looking for the wrong person.”
“Well, I don’t know who I’m looking for, do I?”
“Shirabu Kenjirou,” Semi said slowly, distractedly as he flipped through his notebook and started writing. “Why are you so interested in my love life?”
Shirabu flushed. “I’m not.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You have the turning point wrong, by the way. The y-coordinate.”
“No, I’m drawing the derivative func-” Shirabu bristled because he did, indeed, have the y-coordinate wrong. “Shut up,” he mumbled.
“Brat.”
~
Semi Eita was a nice bastard. It was ruining Shirabu’s life. Now that he actually started to pay attention, he started noticing. Well, ‘noticing’ wasn’t quite right because deep down, Shirabu always knew Semi was nice to other people but now that he was seeing the evidence of that every day, it was harder to ignore or deny.
Semi helped carry things for struggling people. He patiently helped Goshiki with maths. He gave – not lent, gave – money to a kid who was short ¥500 to buy a new calculator at the campus stationary store. He took dinner to his sick roommate and did his laundry for him. He was just all round nice to people.
Among those people, there was one person in particular. Namikara Asami, first year. Shirabu learnt the name from Kawanishi whose sister was in the same class as Namikara.
“Just thought you’d want to know,” Kawanishi had said casually.
Shirabu didn’t even want to know what made him think that.
The point was, Semi was very nice to her. He bought her every stationary she needed and gave her his plums even though he liked them. He carried her books and they even went out together during days when they were allowed to leave campus.
If that wasn’t enough to convince Shirabu’s brain that this girl, Namikara Asami, was Semi’s girlfriend then what happened during one lunch time was.
Everything was fine in the cafeteria, loud with chatter and clatter of cutlery. The next table over, Tendou was talking animatedly about the new episode of a drama from last night and Ushijima was nodding along. Shirabu was always sure he had no idea who any of these characters were but, as always, Ushijima proved him wrong by asking all the right questions at the right times.
Two people not in the room were Semi and Namikara but Shirabu did not care, thank you.
Then the boy in question appeared at the door, alone and with murder in his eyes. Shirabu had never seen Semi angry. Annoyed, yes, all the time and usually directed at him. But anger like that…
Semi stomped across the room, towards the table beside Shirabu’s, and no one paid him any attention but suddenly there was a smack and a guy on the floor, bleeding from his nose. Everyone was looking at him now but Shirabu had the front row seat to Semi’s fury as he crouched over the bleeding guy and grabbed his collar.
His voice was cold and even when he said, “Harass Asami again and I will kill you.”
He was gone after that. He didn’t look back. He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, just left them all stunned and silent.
Semi was nice, but not as a rule.
He didn’t show up to practice for a week and when he returned, he received the berating of a lifetime from Couch Washijo and two hundred jump serves.
In the changerooms after, he explained that the guy had been bullying Asami since the first week of school and teachers had done no more than give him detention. The final straw had been when her literature textbook wound up shredded. Tendou was about ready to throw fists too.
Shirabu wasn’t up for physical violence but he made sure to glare at the kid extra hard when he passed by in the hallways.
Yes, Semi Eita ruined his life. Yes, it was irritating as fuck that he’d got a girlfriend. But Shirabu wasn’t a complete jerk and Asami didn’t deserve this.
So he sucked it up.
Too bad sucking it up didn’t fill the widening hole in his chest. It just made it hard to breathe when he was around Semi. Made it a little harder to sleep and differential graphs were just a bit more painful.
~
Semi Eita was an oblivious bastard.
They were in the library again and it was late and quieter than it was during the day. There were a lot of empty seats but Semi, of course, chose the one next to Shirabu. He’d been here for about half an hour. Shirabu had earphones in, no music playing. Semi had been quiet too the entire time, which was rare. He was engrossed in an essay, writing his fourth page now with different coloured pens. Not that Shirabu had been counting.
There was such a small gap between their elbows and occasionally, Semi would shift or stretch and he would brush against Shirabu and light him on fire. Shirabu kept scooting further and further away that he was at the edge of the long table now. He could leave. It was almost ten and lights out would be in half an hour. He should get ready for bed, but his body wouldn’t move.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” Semi asked out of nowhere.
“I haven’t.”
What a lie. Shirabu hadn’t wanted to be in the same room as Semi since the punch that confirmed his dread. Because it was dread and he couldn’t keep denying it anymore. He didn’t want Semi Eita to have a girlfriend. He wanted to be Semi Eita’s boyfriend. It was such a pain in the ass, being constantly reminded of what he couldn’t have and the person in question just wouldn’t leave him alone.
Semi set the pen down, flexing his long fingers. Shirabu watched the way the redness coloured his pale skin from holding the pen so long. “Yes, you have. You don’t stay for long anymore when I’m around and you won’t talk to me. Even when you do, you’re not looking at me.”
Because it was second nature to be a brat to Semi at this point, Shirabu asked, “Do you want me to look at you, Semi-san?”
“Yeah, I do.”
He hadn’t raised his voice at all but it resonated so loudly in Shirabu’s mind that he froze, heart beat spiking. What was the correct reaction? To look at him? No, Shirabu couldn’t deal with what he might find. He needed time to stop seeing Semi in this ridiculous light of near-worship and he couldn’t do that if Semi was in his sight.
“Why would you want that?” he bit, packing up his pens and books and calculators.
“God, Kenjirou, you’re doing it again,” Semi said, exasperation stark in his voice. He grabbed Shirabu’s wrist when he stood, tight and hot against his skin. “You’re running from me.”
Shirabu yanked his wrist out, finally looking up. “It’s bedtime so I’m leaving. You’re not so special that I would avoid you, Semi-san.” He couldn’t help but add, “And you have a girlfriend who’d happily look at you. Please stop bothering me.”
The librarian scowled at him as he walked out but that was the least of his concerns because he burned from head to toe all the way to his dorm with white-knuckled grip on his books.
Kenjirou.
~
Semi Eita was a patient bastard. He let Shirabu avoid him to his heart’s content and Shirabu hated it. He hated it so much it ate at every fibre of his being. Yes, it was unfair of him because he asked to be left alone but he didn’t ask for this. He didn’t ask for Semi to pretend he didn’t exist. Okay, that wasn’t accurate either. Semi didn’t ignore Shirabu’s existence, just sort of…let him be.
He still nodded in acknowledgement if they passed in the hallways. He still called him out on mistakes at practice. He still sat next to him in the library. There were obvious changes like him no longer pointing out errors in Shirabu’s maths homework, reverting back to calling him Shirabu and generally putting a larger difference between them. But something else beyond that changed and it took him two weeks to figure out what. Semi didn’t look at him in the eyes.
And boy, did that hurt.
What’s worse, Semi was still seeing Asami.
Their weirdness was apparently so noticeable that even Ushijima thought to comment on it to Semi. Shirabu was just around the corner but he stopped when he heard his name being mentioned by the captain.
“Is everything okay between the two of you?” Ushijima asked.
“Yeah,” Semi said mildly. “He’s being a brat as usual but he’ll come around once he gets his shit together. Eventually.”
“It’s been a while already.”
“It’s Kenjirou. He gets lost in his head but he’ll get there. Don’t worry.”
“I’m more worried about you.”
There was a pause. “I’m fine.” He sounded tired. “Just- I’m fine.”
That night Shirabu lied awake, staring at the meshwork of the bunk above and thinking about two things.
- ‘Kenjirou’ and how much he wanted Semi to call him that again.
- ‘He gets lost in his head.’
Shirabu didn’t get to where he was today without going through several crises when he blew things out of proportion in his mind. It was one of the hallmarks of being him. But the fact that Semi believed in him and was patiently waiting to sort himself out was… Unexpectedly relieving.
He was still strung up. He wasn’t over Semi, not in the least, and he’d never been one to pine so pathetically but he’d passed that station a long time ago. The only thing he could do now was to pick himself up so Semi didn’t have to wait long because he didn’t deserve it. Attractive, irritating, nice, oblivious, patient Semi.
Shirabu was so far gone.
~
Shirabu Kenjirou was a colossal idiot.
The next day, he ate lunch by himself under a tree to get a break from everything and everyone as he collected his thoughts, trying to string together the best choice of words. But Semi found him because of course he did. Tendou once joked about how the spikes of Semi’s hair were like antennas to locate each of his kouhai from the team. Shirabu was starting to believe that as Semi walked over with a tray of food, slightly limping from a recent twisted ankle after a jump serve gone wrong.
“You mind if I sit here?”
“Sure. It’s not like you ever asked before.” Like he said. Second nature.
“Just didn’t want to bother you.” Semi sat down, putting about a foot’s distance between their knees. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Volleyball?” Please say volleyball. Please.
Semi prodded at his food with his chopsticks. “Kind of. I mean, even Tsutomu’s noticed that you’ve been ignoring me so I thought I should do something about it, but it’s about that letter.” He picked up some shirasu and placed it on Shirabu’s rice. “I don’t like these.”
Shirabu couldn’t figure out what he freaked out more over; the mention of the letter or the fact that Semi knew he liked shirasu. Well, that wasn’t what he said but whatever. He settled for a grumble of, “I’m not a bin.”
Semi ignored him, continuing to prod and pick his food without taking a single bite. If Shirabu knew him better, he would say he was nervous. “I didn’t give them a reply.”
“But-”
“Listen. I didn’t reply because the letter wasn’t for me. It was for you.”
“…What?”
The tips of Semi’s ears peeked out from his two-toned hair and they were becoming the same colour as his cheeks. He still wasn’t looking at Shirabu. “He wanted me to pass it onto you because he wanted his identity to be secret.”
But… “That makes no sense.”
“Well, I clearly didn’t give it to you and if you want to be pissed at me, go ahead. I give you permission this time.”
Something just was not clicking in place here. So the letter wasn’t for Semi and it was from a guy then… “No, I’m just confused. Why didn’t you give it to me?”
Semi finally looked at him, flushed red and utterly done. “You’re a smart kid, Shirabu. Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
“But Asami-chan…”
Semi frowned. “My cousin? What about her? Fuck, did she say something to you? That little…”
“Your what?”
“What?”
Shirabu stared at him, processing. Semi stared back, also processing. Then his eyes widened. “Wait. Did you think Asami confessed to me and I said yes?”
“What was I supposed to think? You give her everything she wants.”
“Shirabu, literally everyone knows she’s my cousin. I keep her happy to keep her quiet because she knows too much about me.”
“Well, I obviously didn’t know that. You seemed surprised to find the letter and then you wouldn’t tell anyone who it was from. Why didn’t you just give it to me in the first place?”
“Because I like you, you moron.” This was accompanied by a smack upside the head, a contradiction if ever there was one. “I didn’t want to give you the letter and have you wondering about who it’s from. I had it shoved in my locker since the year started that I completely forgot about it. He didn’t want you to know who he is anyway. Why does it matter?”
Why does it matter? Shirabu wanted to laugh and cry and beat the hell out of Semi all at once. He opted for angrily swapping his broccoli with Semi’s chicken. “Do you have any idea what I went through this past month because I thought-” He stopped himself.
Semi scooted closer, leaning into watch Shirabu. “Because you thought I had a girlfriend. So you were jealous.”
Shirabu absolutely refused to dignify it with a response and Semi had another thing coming if he expected a heartfelt return confession for that crappy ‘I like you, you moron.’ (Holy shit, he liked Shirabu.)
Semi leaned even closer, smirk far too close for his heart to handle. “You do like me.”
Shirabu heated as he stabbed a piece of chicken with one chopstick. "Took you long enough to figure out.”
“Kenjirou,” Semi started lowly, wrapping his hand around Shirabu’s wrist. “Look at me.”
Shirabu took his sweet time dragging his eyes up from his lunch and at the third year’s expectant face, with the smile that stole hearts right from their cages. Without warning, Semi pressed a kiss to Shirabu’s lips, quick and light, barely a touch.
“I had to before you started eating,” he explained. “You can spike a ball at me later if you didn’t like it.”
“Semi-san?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
Shirabu dug his fingers into Semi’s collar, pulling them together for a proper kiss. He could wax poetic about how soft Semi’s lips were or how his hair was soft and he smelled nice but he didn’t notice any of that. All his awareness focused on was the fact that he was kissing Semi Eita, not some other girl, and it was ruining his life in a different way now, especially as Semi smiled and muttered against his lips,
“Brat.”
It wasn’t until he was lying in bed that night, unable to sleep for many reasons, that he realised Kawanishi knew exactly who Namikara Asami was.
Kawanishi Taichi was a bastard.