Coffee Shop Cliche (Haikyuu!!)

...You're Always Like This?

Oh my God, you guys are precious, and I love you all so much, and I'm so so so sooo sorry I haven't updated in forever! I thought this story would gradually stop getting reads when I started getting too busy to write, but you guys are darlings!

Thkz so much for the 2K!!!!!!!!!!

I love you all so much it's literally ridiculous, but hey,

Multi-colored~

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Takeru absent-mindedly munched on her apple splices as she watched in learned fascination at the countless numbers of chatty teenagers lining up behind the starting blocks.

Some had confidence written all over their faces, and others had a more subdued sort of self-reassurance that Takeru had always enjoyed competing against.

She was used to the loud sounds around her that roars as swimmers swam, and she was also very used to the odd silence that reigned supreme at start of a race, when the officials would tell everyone to take their marks. Everyone in the audience knew that silence was necessary.

Even a fraction of a second, the hair of an eyelash, a millimeter of a finger, anything that one could win by, would be won by. It didn't matter if all the others delayed even a second.

There were no do-overs, and there was no one to help you, and if you lost, you lost.

Quite frankly, it was brutal.

Takeru knew this, and every single person in the natatorium understood that if you weren't ready to have your heart absolutely crushed multiple times over, you had no place in the pool.

(That didn't mean people didn't sob their eyes out when they lost, or privately broke a few things in their room's when they returned home.)

She stares as the 200 individual medley beings with the spluttering of a whistle.

It occurs to her that she would probably have to move her butt, and that she would also have to warm up for her final(s).

Which sorta sucked, but didn't at the same time.

Does that even make sense?

Probably not.

Oh well...

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Ushjima isn't surprised when Shiratorizawa swiftly dominates the Inter-High prelims with an iron fist.

It was only natural, of course, considering all the teams they had faced so far had showed little to no resistance.

He packs his bags, removes his sweaty uniform, and swiftly puts on his sweatpants with a white T-shirt before throwing on his team jacket. It occurs to him, as he flashes his phone out to look at the time, that the coffee girl was probably waiting for him.

At this, Ushijima stops, staring as the rest of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team climbs onto the bus. He checks his phone again, asks his coach how long the train ride back would be, and ponders if he should actually concede to the coffee girl's request.

If he didn't, it would mean more time to sleep. It also meant she'd complain endlessly on Monday. Which, in turn, would be bad for his normally quiet mornings.

Ushijima considered the trouble not going would cause him, and also the possibility of her not giving him coffee as well as a headache. It was completely plausible with the coffee shop maniac.