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After the loss to Karasuno, it felt like everything stopped. Shirabu grasped at his chest, his heart paused as he realized that it was the end. Sure, he would have his third year, but he couldn’t stop the feeling of guilt that started pouring over his head until it has completely soaked him to his toes. If he had only listened to Semi. If he hadn’t lost his cool. If he hadn’t-
“Shut up.” Y/n threw a pillow into his face. She walked over with her blue water bottle. “Drink all of it. You’re probably dehydrated from all the crying.”
“Y/n!”
“Just stating the truth Kenjiro.” She sat down next to him, the bed dipping slightly. It was just the two of them in Shirabu’s dormitory since his dormmate had decided to go home for the week because of stress. Although, Y/n had a sneaking suspicion that the roommate left because of the pure anger and irritation that practically radiated off of Shirabu.
Growing up with Shirabu was never an easy task. He was even more of a hot head and got easily pissed off. It reminded Y/n of the wind-up robot Shirabu had sitting on his desk. At first, it would move slowly shifting its feet. But when she wound it up too tight, a spring or two had the tendency to come flying out of the mechanics.
He downed the water when he realized how thirsty he actually was. He tried to avoid staring at Y/n, she was sitting cross legged and bouncing her knees slightly. Even when he was being a jerk, she was there for him. He was grateful that she had come to see the game earlier, but he cringed when he realized that she had seen him lose. Y/n took the water bottle from him, and drank the rest of the water letting out a satisfied ‘ah’ from the crisp taste. She moved from his bed to go through her backpack, pulling out two plastic packages.
They could share things like water bottles, chapstick, spoons, and straws without discomfort. Shirabu had faced slack-jawed teammates when they saw her drink from his water bottle the first time, their jaws dropped further when he asked her to borrow chapstick and he slathered it on his lips with a smirk at his fellow club members.
“Even though I'm just visiting, I would never think of ruining my nighttime routine. So, you're doing a face mask with me.” As soon as she had disappeared into the bathroom, Shirabu smiled. Falling in love with his childhood best friend was the only thing he could have ever expected. Why look at any other girl when Y/n was right there next to him? Being independent from each other but also relying on the silent motivation that came from the other.
While Shirabu had worked harder than anybody to get into Shiratorizawa, the one downfall was the absence of Y/n in his life. How she teased him for his hair, how she did so many little things in order to lighten the atmosphere he sometimes darkened, how she would never get angry back at him and would only ever approach him with a rational retaliation to his illogical outbursts.
“Okay, here let me put your hair up,” As soon as Y/n had started pulling his hair into a ponytail at the top of his head, Shirabu thought he would combust into a million pieces. “Aw, you’re blushing Kenjiro!” When she had finished tying his hair, she put her hands on his cheeks and smushed his face.
“Stop it Y/n.” he tried to remove her hands, but she only resorted to locking them around his neck.
“Ha! You’re trapped.” She smiled widely, admiring how his copper toned hair looked like a fountain at the top of his head.
“Psh, I can do that too.” Shirabu wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his chest.
When they realized what kind of position they were in, they both moved their heads to the side, avoiding looking at each other from embarrassment. They kept holding onto each other. Shrirabu is tired of doing this. They tip-toe around each other, flirting and being the only people to actually handle the other.
His grip tightens on her waist, moving her legs on either side of his hips. He wanted to mold his entire body to hers, leave an imprint of his existence on her. He could only get so physically close, and he was never satiated.
“Tell me that you love me.” He whispers, his lips brushing against her ear. His breath dancing across her neck.
“I can’t.” Y/n moves her head so that the pair are looking directly into each other’s eyes. She sniffles slightly. Suddenly the mood that was once perfect for a confession turns sour, and Shirabu wants to insult anything and everything.
“Why not?” He snaps. He knows that she likes him. She knows that he likes her. So why isn’t Y/n saying anything like he hoped she would be?
“You're too emotional right now, and I don’t want to be some sort of rebound for you after volleyball.”
Y/n knew that Shirabu had been in a certain state of mind since the loss to Karasuno. While it would be nice, no, while it might be absolutely amazing for them to start a deeper relationship, the balance of Shirabu was on the line. She didn’t want him to be acting out of anger or the need for comfort. She wants him to act out of love for her. No other emotions blocking the path from ‘a’ to ‘b’. She lets go of his neck. But Shirabu only pulls her tighter into him.
“You won't be. I promise. I love you.” He presses his face into her neck, his lips ghosting over her collarbone.
“I love you.” She isn’t sure how the words come out of her mouth, but they do. Almost as if they had been sitting on her teeth just waiting to jump out.
In a rush, he kisses her. Y/n immediately moves to keep him kissing her by holding onto his neck again.