Day 8

For one reason or another, Suna was more awake than usual this morning. He stabbed his fork onto Emiko's plate and stuffed the puffy pancake into his mouth. Syrup dripped down his chin as he struggled to chew. Despite the sticky mess, he gave Emiko a smug look.

She glanced around the table and grabbed a loaf of bread. She aimed at his head and threw it but it smacked his chest.

Mrs. Suna turned around from the kitchen counter and glanced between them. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"She threw bread at me."

Emiko slammed her hands on the table. "You have no proof."

He picked up the loaf from his lap and deadpanned. "Explain this."

"The breadbasket is literally in front of you."

Mrs. Suna giggled. When the tea kettle whistled, she poured it into three cups.

"So, Emiko," she said, taking a seat at the table. "Have you made any new friends?"

She choked and covered her mouth. "Oh, yeah. Plenty of friends. Everyone loves me."

"Specially the Miyas."

"Lies." Emiko pointed her butter knife at him. She turned to Mrs. Suna and grinned. "The first years on the team love me. They're just shy so it's taking a while for them to open up. Oh, and these girls in my class know my name which, is cool, I guess."

"Which girls? I sit beside you and no girl has ever talked to you." Suna narrowed his eyes. He pointed his own butter knife at her. "Don't lie to my Ma, Suzuki."

"I'm not a liar. I do have friends."

"Friends," he hummed, "like Mirae? The one yelling at you?"

"She was angry at someone from Itachiyama, how many times do I have to tell you this?"

"Face it Suzuki, the only friends you have are the Miyas. Maybe Atsumu is something more because they were having a moment."

"A moment?" Mrs. Suna leaned in. "Tell me more."

"It was a moment." She shrugged. "I've been waiting my entire life for a moment and finally Atsumu and I shared a moment together. It was awesome, but nothing crazy."

"Atsumu doesn't think that. He thinks the moment is the stepping stone for something more-" he made an explosive gesture.

"I don't know sign language."

Suna blinked. "Marriage."

Mrs. Suna gasped like a schoolgirl. Emiko choked on her tea and nearly fell off of the chair.

"Lies!" she shrieked. "Lies and you know it! I would never get anywhere near the idea of Atsumu Miya and myself in a relationship. Do you know what his fangirls would do to me? Do you, Rintaro? They would bare their fangs and eat me alive. Atsumu has five girlfriends who are planning a summer wedding and I am not about to come in between that."

"Interesting that we don't know about these girlfriends."

"I'm not making it up. I know two of them."

"Interesting because you only know the people on the team."

"They cornered me in the bathroom. The day I was limping, and- and we got dumplings!"

Mrs. Suna frowned. "Why were you limping, Emiko?"

"Oh," she blushed, "I fell in the toilet bowl trying to get proof."

Suna fumbled for his phone. "The group chat," he whispered.

Mrs. Suna reached over and tapped Emiko's hand. "What proof were you trying to get from the toilet bowl?"

"Let me start from the top. Basically, I zoomed to the bathroom trying to escape an evil mastermind when I ran into these gremlin-looking creatures. They confessed their infatuation for the boys on the volleyball team and showed me this scrapbook they created as a monument of their creepy love. They keep it in the bathroom ceiling tiles. After they left, I climbed the toilet, got the scrapbook, obtained video evidence for when justice and truth needed to prevail and then, when I went to put it back, I fell in the toilet bowl."

She poked into her pancake and ate it.

"Emiko," Mrs. Suna whispered lovingly, "today is the day. Today is the day that truth and justice shall prevail. May I see this video evidence?"

"Sure!"

The three of them crowded around her phone as she played the video.

Her ridiculous narrations aside, Mrs. Suna and Suna looked visibly pained at what was in the scrapbook. After the thirty-second video was over, she looked up and froze.

"Did I do something wrong?" she frowned.

Mrs. Suna patted her head. "Of course not. You did the right thing. I will need to take your phone for a bit though."

"Sure, I have a backup phone anyway."

"The principal and I have a lot of things to discuss. Now, both of you keep quiet about this until it is resolved. Get to school."

"Ma," Suna flinched, his face paling, "I don't wanna go to school anymore. May I be homeschooled?"

"But your school is nice," Emiko frowned, "you guys have a garden and horse statues and everything."

He ignored her and shuddered. "I can drop out of school, Ma. I don't have to graduate."

"Yes, you do Rintaro. I'll fix this, you two go to school."

It was not a suggestion. There was a strain in her voice that reminded Emiko of her Uncle Keishin when he had had enough of her. Her fight or flight instinct kicked in. Emiko grabbed Suna's arm and pulled him up. She shoved his bag into his chest and slung her's over her shoulder. She gripped his jacket and marched them out the front door.

Mirae was most surprised to have everyone submit their nutritional logs to her. Her boys back at Karasuno could learn a thing or two because despite it being six months of her giving them these forms, she still had to track them down in between classes to get them.

It was lunch break at Itachiyama and she was writing advice and comments on their papers in red ink, walking into the cafeteria to join the girl's team when she nearly face-planted. The obstacle in her path was a dark-haired boy who was kneeling in front of her, holding a box in his hand.

"No," she muttered. Her mind raced with images of previous years and previous scenarios. Physical discomfort reached her face. "And to think I almost got to a year without an incident."

"Have you heard of the red strings of fate?" he proclaimed in a voice that echoed through the cafeteria.

Mirae cringed. Heads turned towards them, people pointed fingers and others raised their phones.

"I don't believe in that."

"That is okay," he smiled. "I will tell you anyway."

"Of course, you will."

"The red strings of fate mean that two people are connected and destined to be lovers despite the place, the timing, or the circumstances. This red string is what connects you and me."

"No, it's not," she shuddered and tried to move past him. He grabbed her hand and yanked. The emotions in his eyes pooled out into aggressive desperation.

"I know you feel it too. Your heart rate quickening, your skin tingling. It's the red strings glowing as we draw nearer. I don't believe in waiting. So, Mirae Ando, will you marry me?"

"We're children," she answered in a horrified voice, "I'm not even sixteen."

"Age is just a number."

"And jail is just a room? No," she yanked her hand back and dragged it up and down her pant leg. "The heart rate quickening and the skin tingling sound like serious health problems you should get checked out. I'm not marrying you."

The boy fell forward and desperately clung to her ankle. "I got you a ring- please, just wear it. I can wait until you're sixteen."

"Let go of me!" she tried to shake him off.

From the crowd that formed around them, Komori pushed forward and stared with wide eyes. "What the hell?"

"Komori!" she reached for him, eyes wide and lips trembling, "help me!"

He grabbed her hands and pulled. The boy had an iron grip because he started to get dragged with them. "My love is yours!" he cried, "marry me!"

"He's the stalker- Mirae! He's the stalker! I told you it wasn't me!"

"You're worried about the wrong thing here," she cried, trying to kick the boy off. "Komori use your muscles and save me!"

"I don't have the muscles required for this!"

"What the-" Himari stuttered. She pushed her way through and quickly latched onto Mirae's other arm. "What the hell is happing?"

"I told you I wasn't the stalker," Komori snapped. "It's this weirdo. That night that you and Sakusa tried to use her as bait when we walked to the nurse's office, he came out of nowhere and started up a conversation with Mirae. I had my suspicions and turns out it was right!"

"Congratulations," Mirae hissed, "now can someone please get him off me! I have a taser and pepper spray in my bag right there, attack him! Ennoshita said attacking people is fine if it's in self-defence and this surely counts as self-defence!"

"Hey, Ishida!" Komori called. "Grab her bag, dude! Get the taser!"

Ishida fumbled with his phone and dropped down. He unzipped her bag and rummaged through until he held the small black device.

"How's it work?" he panicked, "What do I do?"

"Attack him! Point the thingies at him and press the button!"

"I love you!"

"Ishida now would be a great time!"

"I'm trying!"

"How?" Mirae screamed. At this point, she was contemplating sawing off her leg and leaving without it. "You are terrible at using tasers."

"I've never had to use one before?!"

"My heart belongs to you!"

Himari groaned as she released her grip. "You boys are useless; do I have to do everything myself?"

She raised her leg and kicked. He released his grip at once. Komori took that chance to steal the taser from Ishida. He pointed it at the kneeling boy and pressed the trigger.

A buzzing sound rang through the air, the students around them hushing in excitement.

"He's dead. Oh my god, he's dead!"

"Why do you sound so happy?!" Komori whispered-shouted, tossing the taser back into the bag.

She clung to him like he was her lifeline.

"Can someone please saw off my leg?" she begged, "I don't want it anymore after being violated like that."

"It's okay," Komori hushed, "I think he's dead."

Himari grabbed the boy's hair and raised his head off the ground. His eyes rolled and he groaned.

Mrs. Suna had made it clear that the fangirl notebook was supposed to be kept a secret until she showed it to the principal. The way that Suna was acting though, was setting off alarm bells left and right.

Atsumu was the first to notice.

"What're ya doin?" he asked. His brows were furrowed in confusion as he watched Suna struggling to shove himself in his locker.

"Hiding."

"Overreacting," Emiko snapped. She rolled her eyes and continued typing her good morning text to Yachi.

"Yer not gonna fit, Sunarin."

"I-" he wheezed when his hip hit the metal bearing, "can. Atsumu, push my leg in."

"What's got yer fur all ruffled up?" he grinned and leaned on the lockers beside them. "Yer usually more zombie-like than this."

"You'd be running for the hills if you knew."

The bell rang, its shrill sound echoing down the halls. Emiko shoved her phone into her pocket and grabbed Suna's arm. She used her entire weight to yank him out of the hiding space he was never going to fit in.

"We have class, Rintaro. Come on."

Atsumu watched in amusement as Suna tried to make himself smaller and ineffectively hide behind Emiko.

The second person to notice was Osamu.

He glanced between the two; the hushed whispers, the shifting, the subtle touches.

"What happened 'tween the two of ya?" he narrowed his eyes. "Yer not together, are ya?"

"Ew, no," Emiko gagged. "Rintaro is just being a diva."

"Why?"

"It's a secret."

She frowned at the tip of her pencil when the led broke off. Her Sensei at Karasuno berated her for using a pen and Emiko purchased this single wooden pencil to honour her Sensei's wish. She forgot a sharpener for it though.

She huffed and then looked over to the door. The classroom had a sharpener. Emiko almost cheered aloud at the news.

She pushed her chair away and stood up. She barely stepped away when she felt herself get yanked back.

"Where are you going?" Suna demanded. Just one second ago his eyes were closed and he was sleeping on his desk. Now he sat up, his body angled from his terrible posture, and slanted eyes glaring at her.

"I have to sharpen my pencil," she stuttered.

"Don't go."

"It's right there, Rintaro. I'm not leaving the classroom."

"I'll come with ya."

"It's literally ten steps away."

"Don't care."

Osamu narrowed his eyes and leaned back. "Possessive much?"

"She's the only thing protecting me," Suna snapped, "they're here in this classroom and I don't know who they are. She's the only thing standing between me and them."

"I am literally a full foot shorter than you. My only defence is sarcasm and over-exaggerated snarky comments. What part of this situation makes you believe I can protect you?"

"You found the one's responsible, didn't you?"

She scowled and broke free. "I regret it every second."

He scrambled after her and grabbed her sleeve. "You don't mean that. Suzuki, say you don't mean that."

The third person to notice was Ginjima.

Emiko sat at the cafeteria table with the rest of the boys on the volleyball team.  They watched curiously as Suna pressed himself to her side, occasionally trying to hide under the table when people walked by. It was only when Emiko assured him that the coast was clear that he would sit up.

"What the heck are ya doin?" Ginjima growled. He narrowed his eyes, "Are ya takin' turns with the Miyas? Is it yer turn to harass Suzuki?"

"Gin you don't understand," Suna whispered in a hurried voice. "They're everywhere."

"Who? Sunarin you've been acting sus."

"Real sus," Osamu agreed. "C'mon, out with it."

"What's been hauntin' ya?"

"There are," he paused, licking his lips, "there are people who have things. Terrible things."

The Miyas blinked. Inarizaki's first years watched in horror. A look of exasperation crossed Ginjima's face.

"Suna I'm gonna take ya to the nurse."

"No," he hissed, "we all gotta stay with Suzuki. She's the only one who can protect us."

"My back is literally broken from falling off your roof. I'm not protecting you from anything."

"What do ya need protectin' from?" Atsumu pressed.

He dropped his head on the table and groaned. "The girls at our school have a book about us. Pictures, terrible comments," he shuddered, "they've called dibs on us."

"That can't be true," Ginjima frowned.

"It is. Suzuki found the book. She took pictures of it, showed my Ma, and my Ma's talking to the Sensei right now."

"How bad can it be?" Osamu shrugged. "I look good at all time. Sure, 'Tsumu might have ta worry but the rest of us are good."

"Oi!"

"Suzuki? How bad is it?"

Emiko sighed. She put down her chopsticks and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Let's see; they've got plenty of pictures of Osamu lunging. They angled the camera somehow and focused on his," she looked at Suna.

He cringed, giving him an apologetic look. "Your butt."

"Yeah," she scrunched her nose. "That. There was an entire chapter dedicated to Ginjima's sweaty chest."

"They commented on your chest hair, Gin. You don't have chest hair."

"They had pictures of Atsumu poking his tongue out of his mouth and let me tell you, the comments under those pictures," she shuddered, "my condolences, Atsumu. The only good thing is that the precious first years were spared. The rest of you-"

The colour drained from their faces. Before they could react, a school-wide announcement was broadcasted.

Bokuto chuckled, his deep voice a soothing reminder of his presence.

"An-chan," he started, "are you sure you're not overreacting?"

She shifted the phone between her ear and shoulder and continued slathering sanitizer onto her ankle like it was lotion.

"I feel violated."

"From the way you told the story though it sounds hilarious! Like something out of a manga!"

"It was something out of a horror film."

"It's just fun and games."

"Maybe."

"What's on your mind, An-Chan?" he asked. He lowered his voice, drawing on concern because his friend had called him in a time of need. "What's the real reason this is bothering you so much?"

"I've been through something before," she muttered after a pause. "Last year before I moved to Miyagi, a boy was trying to take advantage of me. They belittled me in front of people, heightened my self-consciousness, and forced themselves onto me."

"So, what happened today made you remember that. You know, it upsets me to know that you're scared An-Chan. I'm sorry if I made it seem like you were overreacting."

"I don't blame you, Bokuto-san. It's just that when that boy grabbed my leg, I froze over."

Bokuto was silent for a moment. "Akaashi told me that you're a germaphobe."

"It's not really a phobia. I just prefer to be cleaner. The touching thing, well, I don't like people touching me when I don't know them."

"That makes sense."

"And as hilarious as the marriage proposal is, it still makes me uncomfortable. Everyone was videotaping it, Bokuto-san. I want to jump on the next train and head back to Miyagi."

"If it's stressing you out, An-Chan, then you should consider leaving the program. It's not good for you to have unnecessary pressure. You remember that article I e-mailed you, right? Remove the stress trigger, is what it said, and you especially have to take care of yourself."

"You're right."

"That being said, you sounded really excited for this opportunity. So if you still want to do it, and you know you can, then I think you should stay. Give it your best."

"You're also right about that."

"Didn't this happen back at Karasuno?"

"No," she chuckled, "and I have Nishinoya, Shoji, and the rest of the protect the manager squad to thank for that."

"Oh! How is the future ace spiker, anyway?"

"Determined as ever. He and Takita, our other first year, really saved us in the finals."

"I heard that was you, An-chan."

"I didn't do anything. It was the team."

"You're part of the team too. You help them train, track their progress, get their equipment ready. So, it was you too."

The corners of her lips tugged up. "Don't you have an essay to write?"

Bokuto cursed under his breath. There was some rummaging on his part of the call. "Thanks for reminding me, An-Chan. In my defence though, it's almost done."

"That's good to know. Just make sure to get to sleep before midnight."

"That goes for you too."

"Yeah. I should probably get back now. Practice starts in a little while and I have a meeting with Coach Iwasaki before that."

"Alright, take care of yourself An-Chan!"

"You too Bokuto-san." She stood up, dusting herself, "Thanks for listening to me."

"Good afternoon Ina high," the Sensei's voice echoed from the speakers. "I'm sorry fer interruptin' yer lunch break, but a serious problem has come to my attention and it needs to be addressed immediately. We have obtained a book in the girls' bathroom ceilin' that contains some very, ehem, explicit descriptions and inappropriate pictures of male students on the volleyball team."

Emiko glanced over to the table of girls. Their faces were drained of colour.

"This is harassment. The boys do not give consent to have their photos taken. If there was a situation where male students were takin' unsuspecting pictures of female students, the severity of the situation would be the same. We will not be lenient because the harassers are females. That is to say, the girls have signed their names in this book, so we know exactly who they are."

One of the girls retched. Another nearly fell out of her seat.

"We also have counsellors available to those students who have expressed desires of choke me daddy and run me over with your car. We do not know what yer goin' through but know that we have professional services here to help ya. Those students know who they are. Please make yer way down to my office at the end of the day or we'll be forced to call yer parents. Thank you. That is all."

For a few moments, there was silence.

"Who would do such a thing?" Vanji, the forefront runner of the book, gasped. "It's so embarrassing!"

"How desperate could ya be?" her friend asked rhetorically.

"It's shameful!"

"Do people have no respect?"

Emiko clenched her fists. Her jaw tightened as the fake gasps and consolatory looks turned to their table.

"Oi, Suzuki, you okay?" Atsumu asked.

She responded by slamming her hands on the table and standing up. "You are conniving little tramps!" she screeched. "It was you! All of you! How dare you try to hide?"

Vanji opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. She finally glared and snapped. "Ya have no proof it was us."

Emiko deadpanned.

"It wasn't us!"

"You literally signed your name in purple gel pen, calling dibs on Ginjima."

Yukio reached over from the other side of the table and gripped her arm. "Emiko-chan, be quiet, they're gonna murder ya!"

"No I didn't!"

"Quick." Suna jumped, he smacked Yukio's arm off of Emiko and gripped her shoulders. He hunched down and hid behind her as he walked backwards out the cafeteria. "Now that they're exposed, who knows what they'll do."

"Rintaro I am literally a full foot shorter than you."

Fifteen boys followed suit, putting distance between themselves and the group of girls who were digging their nails into the table. Emiko felt a sense of déjà vu.

"Good evening Coach," Mirae greeted as he walked into the gymnasium. She cranked the lever on the volleyball net, holding it in place, and then walked up to him. The practice was going to start soon and the boys were already in the changing rooms.

"Mirae, I should apologize on behalf of our school."

She cocked her head to the side. "What's there to apologize for?"

"I heard from the Sensei that a student was harassing you," he winced. "Believe me, this is not what Itachiyama represents. I do not want that to be your impression of our school."

"Of course, it isn't," she assured, "it was just one student that went a little too far. It's fine."

"You're very mature and kind for saying that, but the situation is serious. The Sensei wanted to talk to you themselves but I thought it would be better if it were me. The school called their parents and we've all agreed that he needs to formally apologize to you."

"That would make me feel better, thanks Coach."

"I'm sorry, again, Mirae." He sighed, running his hands down his face. "Himari has offered to escort you to your classes and around campus for the rest of your stay with us. After what happened down at the tunnels and then the confession, I can't even begin to imagine how scared you were."

The doors behind them to the changing rooms opened. The boys walked out, their voices easing the tension neither one noticed before.

"I didn't tell an adult because I didn't think it was that big of a problem. Yeah, I was scared but I always had someone with me. I didn't feel threatened."

"Yes, you did," Sakusa answered. He shuffled towards them; eyes trained on Coach Iwasaki.

"Sakusa."

"What'd the Sensei say?"

"The student is suspended for a month. In that time, they are required to complete one hundred hours of community service."

"Good. What about the videos and pictures people took from the cafeteria?"

"There will be an announcement asking students to delete it. I'm going to tell the rest of the team about our practice games scheduled for next week. You two take a moment."

Mirae's brows furrowed. When Coach Iwasaki left, she turned to Sakusa. "It was you who told?"

He raised a brow. "Is that a problem?"

"No, I just," she paused.

"Were you planning on telling anyone?"

"Not really. Yeah, the guy was a creep, but it wasn't anything serious."

"You thought you could endure for another five days and then forget about it and go home?"

"Honestly," she shrugged, "yeah."

He scowled at her response. "He was harassing you. Stalking you. If he wasn't scared about confronting you in person with people all around, then he wouldn't be scared to attack you when you're alone."

"I don't think he would have attacked me."

"You don't know that."

"I do, actually."

"What's that mean?" he frowned.

Mirae looked away. She wrung her fingers together, consciously breathing in and out in four-second intervals. When she felt the tightening of her chest loosen, she offered him a smile. "It doesn't matter. I should say thank you."

"No," he objected, face hardening, "you said that it made you uncomfortable. You said that it made you want to leave."

"How would you," her eyes widened, "that was a private conversation."

"I didn't plan on eavesdropping."

"But you did. You heard and you decided to stay and listen."

"You weren't the quietest about it," he scoffed. 

"I'm not having this argument with you."

She turned around. Komori and Ishida were calling her name, a perfect excuse to leave.

|Note|

There are five days left of the convention and six chapters left for this arc! Who's excited to head back to Karasuno? We definitely miss writing our boys with their managers.

Now that the stalker has been identified, we think Sakusa owes Komori an apology because he definitely was not the stalker.

City girls are just as scary as city boys, 10/10 recommend staying away from them XD

That's it for this week!

Please don't forget to vote, and we'll see you next week with another chapter!

|End Note|