A couple of weeks passed, and life continued as usual, with the exception of Wakatoshi and I messaging each other more often. We chatted about our lives and frequently discussed our schedules to see when the best day to meet again was. During this time, I found that Ushijima had relocated to a space in Tokyo, closer to where the Adlers team would usually practice.

Unfortunately, it was far from where I lived, but I was determined to make it work. Both of us were free on the weekends, but the problem was the transit price. If he lived close enough to me, I would've loved to come and visit every weekend via bike or car, but it wasn't an option when he lived over 200 miles away. I couldn't afford to spend a week's groceries on some train ticket every 7 days.

Sighing in frustration, I set my phone down and rubbed my temples, trying to make the ache in my head go away. The confounding problem of calculating the price and time for a small getaway only got worse considering that I was absolutely swamped with article samples to proofread, as well as an editorial to start -- all of which were due next week. My eyes settled on an unfinished manuscript in the background and narrowed, my eyelids trying to block out the unsightliness of it all.

A few minutes later, I heard a ring come from my phone. Checking to see who it was, I peeked at the screen and immediately sucked in a breath, making a face at the Caller ID. Ushiwaka was on the other line, and he'd dialed in for a video call. Feeling a sudden heat creep up from the base of my neck at imagining what he'd look like at this hour, I rushed to tidy myself up.

Quickly fixing my hair and brushing any dust off the visible parts of my top, I answered the call with hopeful eyes and a slight smile.

"Wakatoshi!" His eyes brightened as soon as my image popped up on his phone, waving to me through the screen. "It's so good to see you again!"

"It's nice to see you again as well," he replied, "How are things going for you? Hope you're not too busy trying to figure out the whole situation with the tickets-" I interrupted him, brushing the topic off, not wanting to bother with telling him the whole story.

"No, everything is fine -- just finishing up some writing projects. Y'know, the usual." Ushijima's eyes widened, as if regarding something tactless. He acted like he was guilty of something, though at the moment I didn't think that there was anything wrong until he piped up.

"If you're busy I can call back. I didn't mean to impose on your manuscript writing." I immediately gasped, panicking over on the other side of the call, afraid that I'd given him the wrong impression.

"No, no, not at all! You're perfectly welcome!" I exclaimed, hurriedly waving my hands around like a madman, "I was in need of a break, anyways." Wakatoshi seemed to relax a bit, his shoulders losing the tension that they previously held as his chest deflated a bit, relieving his lungs of a held-in breath.

"I'm glad," he said, "But you didn't answer my question about the tickets -- have you found anything yet?" I sighed, hesitantly glancing to the side, debating whether or not I should tell him about the situation regarding the calculations and workload.

"I actually... don't know where I'm gonna find the time for all of this," I admitted, putting a hand to my forehead and laughing, "Y'know, I honestly wish I could be a better person and manage these things, but-"

"I bought a ticket for this Saturday, actually." My eyes bugged out and a clapped a hand over my mouth in disbelief.

"What?" I shouted, "Wakatoshi, you really didn't have to! I could've done it myself, I-" He shrugged, holding up a printed ticket, the black and white ink heavily contrasting with the warm background it was presented in.

"Well, what's done is done. You can just get the ticket from me and-" I started to chuckle upon realizing that Ushijima had a physical copy of the ticket, which defeated the purpose of it, as I was travelling to him. He seemed perplexed as I caught my giggles in the cuffs of my sweatshirt, my eyes averted to keep my composure and to avoid bursting into spontaneous snickers at his full expression.

"Wakatoshi, do you- do you happen to have an electronic copy of the- of the ticket?" I laughed, my sentences choppy due to the quick breaths I had to take in between words, "I can't- I can't get it if the real ticket is with you." Once the realization had dawned upon him, my laughter only grew as I saw his cheeks redden and his eyes suddenly tire as a hand flew to cover them.

"Don't worry, don't worry!" I repeated, trying to contain myself, "I-It's fine! It's fine!" We spent the next couple of minutes calming down, occasionally stealing glances at each other, awkwardly settling back into the mood. My cheeks were still dusted a faint shade of pink as I spoke after brief moments of quietude.

"Is there any way I can pay you for the ticket?" I asked, "I can transfer money to you via PayPal or something. We should work something out-" Wakatoshi shook his head, to which I coyly rolled my eyes to. He was too humble for his own good, sometimes.

"Just show up. Pick up a drink or two from the supermarket while you're at it," he replied, a small smile lacing his features. I shook my head and gave a sigh while laughing gently, adoringly gazing at my phone screen at the figure displayed on it.

Truly an unexpected character, he was.

"Thank you so much Wakatoshi."

__

It was Sunday, and I had just gotten off the train. Ushijima had sent me the directions to his apartment, and texted me the address to the nearest store so I could buy us some wine on the way to his flat. After stopping by a local Yokado, I swiftly made my way to my final destination, eagerly awaiting what the evening had in store for us.

Hurriedly pressing the doorbell upon my arrival, I anticipated Wakatoshi, bouncing on the balls of my feet in excitement. My mind wandered to what he'd look like coming through that door. I glanced down at my outfit, wondering if I'd dressed up too much, but discarded the thought as I heard a click come from the other side of the door.

The moment the door opened, my face lit up with a smile.

"Wakatoshi!" I exclaimed, embracing him, "I missed you." He hugged back gently, soft rumbles coursing through his chest as he replied with a simple "hello." Feeling my heart start to race, I quickly pulled away and held up the shopping bag of wine I had in my hand, taking the initiative to divert both of our attention from my flustered state.

Ushijima seemed to pick up on my thought process, as he invited me inside, parting to let me go through the doorway.

His place was more than conventional -- there was a hallway with a series of doors on either side that led to a living room fused with a smaller kitchen. He lived alone, but his place was rather spacious for an apartment that housed only one person.

I set my things down and took a bottle of wine out of the bag, wondering if Wakatoshi had brought any cups out. As I turned to him, I found that he was in the middle of bringing out two wine glasses from somewhere in his cupboard. He stopped for a second when he locked gazes with me, freezing as if he got caught doing something bad. I simply laughed at his reaction and took the glasses from him.

"Thank you Wakatoshi," I murmured. He nodded and went to grab a corkscrew, then promptly opened the bottles, the corks twisting off with a pop. I poured our drinks, handed one to the olive-haired male, and gestured to him for a complementary "cheers," to which he obliged to wonderfully. The sound of our glasses clinking echoed across the room, followed by quiet sipping sounds.

And thus, the evening began.

__

Hours had passed and needless to say, we were both completely and utterly wasted. Our faces were red as beets, our words were incomprehensible -- at least mine were, as Wakatoshi hadn't talked for the past hour. As I talked to myself, I suddenly felt a cold breeze brush through the room. Shivering and rubbing my arms, I thought for a moment before asking the man beside me a favor.

"It's getting a little bit cold in here," I spoke, feeling goosebumps arise and my hands go cold, "If it's not too much of a bother-" Before I could finish my sentence, Ushijima had already placed his jacket on me, silently shifting to adjust it so it draped over my shoulders perfectly. I smiled in appreciation, muttering a quiet "thank you" before going silent.

Clutching the collar of his jacket, I felt an uncertain warmth bypass my shoulders, making its way into my heart. Shaking my head, I chugged the rest of my wine, then set my glass down and sighed, a spontaneous rush of determination filling my insides. Turning to the olive-haired male, I tried to meet his eyes but instead saw his expression.

He looked calm. He looked at peace, through all my constant yammering. I didn't know whether it was the alcohol controlling me, but my mouth opened to profess something.

In my conscience and in the brief moments before my confession, I knew that it was all over. My rationale begged for me to keep my lips sealed and for my feelings to emerge when the time was right. I pleaded and reasoned with myself, but the liquor seemed to overpower everything.

But I was unhinged.

Its perfume drugged me, binding me to this serum of complete and unrelenting truth. Adoration upon drunkenness mixed together and brewed liquid courage, settling into the pits of my stomach to turn into adrenaline.

And that was it.

"Wakatoshi, I like you."

There was no initial reaction from him, so I figured that he must've misheard me.

"Wakatoshi, I like you," I repeated, hopefully looking at the olive-haired male. His eyes widened as he turned to me, his eyebrows furrowing. Gazing warily at my drunken stupor, he looked disapproving, for a reason that my intoxicated self could not seem to decipher.

"Don't say such things when you're drunk, (Y/N)." The reply shocked me. I stammered a refute, desperately trying to disprove his statement.

"No! It's true! I like you, Wakatoshi!" I should've stopped upon seeing his expression, but I kept on going.

"I've liked you since high school! I like the way you look, I like the way you play, and the way you treat me! But I was so nervous and- and scared that you wouldn't like me back so I didn't say anything! We're so different but all I know is that I want you! I want to hug you and be with you and-"

My speech was cut short by a finger pressed against my mouth. About to protest, I opened my lips but held my words in once I saw Wakatoshi's face.

His eyebrows were deeply furrowed and his lips were quivering just the slightest bit. Though his eyes showed little difference, there seemed to be a change in his gaze -- his irises were less reflective and their olive coloration dulled. He took a deep breath in and lowered his hand, then stood up, getting ready to leave.

He looked hurt, confused, anxious. I gazed into his eyes, and in my drunken stupor I was able to glimpse into his eyes to peek at his vulnerable soul. It was as if his morale was in a vicious battle with his conscience at that moment -- both sides clashing furiously in a silent war with each other. I placed a hand on his shoulder, puzzled as to what exactly he was so confused about.

"Wakatoshi?" I spoke, "Is something wrong?"

He gently brushed my hand off, avoiding my gaze, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry." I sat there, confused and helpless. Feeling the urge to cry, my throat started to close as tears surfaced, turning my eyes iridescent and glossy. He looked remorseful, so much so. I couldn't bear seeing him in this state.

But it pained my heart the most when I heard his next remark.

"I'm not doing this to you. Not while you're like this," he whispered, "I can't hurt you." He swallowed, his eyebrows furrowed and his neck strained. God, I felt like sobbing.

Wakatoshi sighed and helped me up, silently bringing me to his room and setting me down on his bed. I couldn't say anything to him. Covering my face with my hands, I stayed in a hunched position as the olive-haired male stood up straight, preparing himself to leave.

I wanted to call for him to stay, but something in my conscience disagreed. It was sudden, but I knew that talking would only make it worse.

After a few seconds of waiting, Wakatoshi finally uttered the last soft, sad, words of the evening.

"I'll see you in the morning. Just get some rest. Please get some rest, (L/N)." He squeezed my shoulder and promptly left the room, leaving his coat with me. The thumps of his footsteps and the closing of a door were the last sounds I heard before everything went quiet.

Once I was sure that he was gone, I began to sob. I gripped onto the fabric of his jacket as tears began cascading down my hot cheeks, my heart aching with regret.

God, this was all my fault. I shouldn't have done this.

The shock and immense heartbreak I felt chipped away at the effect of the alcohol and eventually brought me back to reality -- sober, aware, and completely ashamed.

And all I could do was cry and sit there on the floor, my face buried in my hands and the haunting scent of Wakatoshi lingering upon my shoulders and back.

What have I done?

__

I woke up the next morning, sprawled out on Ushijima's bed with a massive headache. Clutching my forehead with a hand, I squeezed my eyes shut tight and felt around a bit, trying to reach for the bottle of Advil I usually had on my nightstand.

"Fuck," I groaned, "Oh fuck, where's the goddamn Advil." After patting a nightstand for a few seconds, I couldn't feel anything familiar in my drowsiness, so I peeked through half-closed eyelids only to find that I wasn't feelings around on my nightstand at all. Nor was I in my bed -- nor was this my house.

Gasping, I rushed to shove all the blankets off of me and whipped my head around to try and figure out where I was. Around the room, I saw framed photographs and neatly-placed mementos of Shiratorizawa volleyball gear, as well as an open closet that contained a variety of male clothes.

My heart stopped as my mind pieced everything together. The memories from last night came rushing back as I clasped a hand over my mouth in realization.

Oh shit, I was still at Wakatoshi's house.

I jumped as I heard a knock at the door. My heart dropped as a haunting sensation of dread settled over me. Remaining at my place near the nightstand until the knocks came again, I took a deep breath and used the last of what little courage I had to tell Ushijima to come in.

Once he entered the room, I felt like my feet were glued to the floor. Blood rushed to my ears, filling my head with the sound of chaos amidst nothingness. This bone-crushing feeling took to my limbs, squeezing them relentlessly until I was completely and utterly mummified. Curling my fingers, digging my nails into my palms, I breathed in deeply, trying to steady myself in fear of collapsing right then and there.

"Hey Wakatoshi," I said in a meek voice, "Do you wanna talk? Sorry if it's too early for that." There was no response from him as he sat down on the edge of the bed in silence. He pat the spot next to him gingerly, trying to catch my gaze. I kept my stare averted as I nodded and moved to where his hand had previously been.

"I assume you're here to talk about last night?"

"What about last night?" he suddenly mentioned. I winced at the tone of his voice, knowing that it sounded hurt. I pressed my lips together in a thin line, fighting the urge to cry. But no matter how much I wanted to run away, there was no stopping reality -- all I could do was try to explain myself.

"Wakatoshi, I-" I faltered, trying to make sense of the jumbled up text inside this mess of a mind that was mine. "I'm sorry for what I did last night. It wasn't my place to confess and put you in such a hard position. I'm sorry if I made you feel conflicted, or if I put you in the spotlight and inadvertently pressured you to do something that you didn't want to. The evening was supposed to be more relaxed than that, but it turned into a horrible mess because of me-"

I felt my nose begin to sting and my eyes begin to warm. Glancing at Wakatoshi, I could've almost started crying right then and there.

His eyes were cloudy, hiding all emotion from my discerning gaze, but I could tell that he felt conflicted. An unspoken amount of guilt riddled my being as I clenched my hands into fists and sucked up my emotions to speak the last of my possible obituary before I could no longer muster the energy to even open my mouth.

"But no matter how drunk, or how stupid I was, I meant everything I said last night-" My words were interrupted by an unexpected sob that came from the back of my throat.

I felt tears begin to surface. An insurmountable amount of tears that would take days to drain.

Yet my mouth kept speaking on its own accord.

"I meant it." My lower lip trembled, and as it did, it was caught in between rows of teeth in order to restrain it from becoming a blubbery mess.

But how unfortunate it was that these bones could not restrain my self from becoming a blubbering mess.

As I closed my eyes, hot tears began to streak down my face, coloring my cheeks with regret and sorrow. They slid down the sides of my face and dipped into the crevices near my cheeks, into my mouth so I could taste the salty bitterness that my emotions had yielded. Bowing my head, I could only bear the sensation of two olive eyes staring at my pitiful figure as I cried my heart out.

"I like you, Wakatoshi," I whispered, my fingers clenching the fabric of my shirt, "I like you, so, so much."

After that, perhaps I was expecting that he would leave and demand that I get out of his apartment. Of course, it was I who forced my feelings upon him -- there was no obligation to reciprocate them, after all. I imagined that the world would forsake me, and I would be left to rot with my foolishness.

But instead, Ushijima placed his two hands and mine and gave them a small squeeze, the tops of his hands catching my tears as they fell from my eyes.

"That was what I was looking for."

Lifting my head up, I let out a small sob and immediately embraced him. Bawling on his shoulder as he patted my back, Ushijima brought me closer to him, pressing my heart against his own with no hesitation. His hands rested on my scapula and remained there, etching out their shape and molding my soul to such perfection.

Once we separated, Wakatoshi cupped my cheek and used his thumb to wipe away any stray tears, his softened eyes bearing into mine like sunbeams on a dreary day.

As I pressed my hand against his, I couldn't help but laugh, my eyebrows furrowing and my heart blossoming into peals of carnations. I laughed in relief, in warmth and fondness. In the absolute truth and there were no more nightmares.

And in return, Ushijima smiled, a great big grin stretching across his face as his shining irises stared into mine. As my heart beat erratically, thumping against my chest in fast but steady rhythms, I suddenly felt him shift forwards. My eyes widened when he started to lean in, face flushing at the thought of all of the possibilities this led to.

He stopped mere centimeters away from my mouth in his pursuit, however.

"Can I kiss you?" His hot breath fanned against my mouth, smelling faintly of peppermint.

By God, was I nervous. Anxiety riddled me all over, bringing my limbs to shake and lungs to seemingly collapse in on themselves. But I carried out a response, regardless, as my emotions had a mind of their own.

"Yes."

As his soft lips pushed against mine, the worry suddenly curtailed.

His right arm wrapped around the small of my back as he pulled me in, kissing me deeper. I couldn't help but try and stifle a small laugh as my fingers naturally entangled themselves in his hair, soft locks of olive and sienna sliding in between the digits. Wakatoshi's left palm slipped from my cheek to cradle the back of my head ever so gently, as if it were made from the thinnest of porcelain.

This was adoration.

My guard was completely let down, the walls I had around my mind disintegrating at the slightest touch from Wakatoshi.

Feeling an impossible wave of laudation swell up in my chest, filling my eardrums with golden hymns, I could only hear four last words rumble out from the depths of Ushijima's throat before melting into complete bliss:

"I love you too."