I texted (y/n) good morning and good night for exactly twenty-seven days without response. As agonizing as the silence was, I knew I completely deserved it. The fact that my messages made it to her phone instead of being completely blocked was a miracle in itself.

On the twenty-eighth day I woke up to a text; this was surprising because the only people who had made contact with me in the last month were my parents. Most of the team knew or at least had an idea of what happened and they kept their distance. At practice and games they pretended everything was fine but nobody waited for me to change, or offered to get meat buns with me. Things had indefinitely shifted- my life six months ago was now perpendicular to the present.

My fingers turned numb around my phone, my heart skipping a beat. Just to see her name appear on the screen was enough to make me emotional, tears welling up in my eyes before I could even think of a response. I furiously rubbed at my eyes though, forcing myself to pull it together. This is my chance, I thought. My chance to make things right.

I made sure I thought over my response about three thousand times, typing until my hands got tired, before deciding on "what time". At school I anxiously waited, keeping my phone on my person even during practice.

Finally, on the unseasonably warm walk home after practice, my phone vibrated. I pulled it out much too quickly to be considered normal, my palms sweating before I even typed in my passcode.

I broke into a sprint, crashing through the front door and running upstairs to take the fastest shower in human history. My mom pounded on the door so hard I thought she'd leave a dent in the wood.

"What's going on, Suga?!" She yelled as I dried myself off.

"(Y/n) invited me to a party and there are already people there!" I shouted through the door as I vigorously shook my hair out; it had gotten longer than it had ever been, a haircut being the last concern I had at the end of the day.

"(Y/n)?"

"Yes!" My voice was higher than usual, the excitement getting the best of me. I quickly checked in the mirror for any stubble- there wasn't any, as usual. I nearly took my mom out with the door as I swung it open, her face showing a mixture of curiosity and the classic angry mom expression.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" She asked skeptically, one eyebrow raised. She only knew parts of the truth; I told her we were on a break, leaving out that I cheated on (y/n), much less that it was with Daichi who had been sleeping over since I was learning to tie my shoes.

"Positive," I breathed, stepping past her into my room to get dressed. She left me with a sigh, mumbling about how unexplainable teenagers were as she went downstairs. I rifled through my every drawer, not a single article of clothing good enough. It was warm out and I had no idea if (y/n) still had the A/C in, or how hot it might get in her apartment if there were a bunch of people. I finally settled on a pair of dark jeans and a light yellow t-shirt that (y/n) always wished I'd wear when she would rummage through my clothes. I shoved my wallet and phone in their respective back pockets, kissing my mom goodbye before beginning the walk to (y/n)'s apartment. I had to remind myself not to run, determined to keep my cool and arrive as not sweaty as possible. She lived about a twenty minute walk away and five minutes in I wished I'd worn looser pants and sneakers rather than boat shoes that dug a hole in the back of my heel.

As I walked up a particularly steep hill a familiar car skidded to a stop at the sight of me.

"Hey!" (Y/n) yelled, motioning me to her. I walked over to her window, wincing at how loud she had the music. She giggled as she turned the nob down, looking me up and down for a moment. She looked like she was thinking of something to say about my appearance but instead she gave me a smile, nodding her head toward the passenger seat.

"If you needed a ride you should have told me," she laughed. I took it as an invitation inside the car and jogged around, silently enjoying the rush of air against my skin as she picked up speed.

"Thank you," I said, turning to steal a glance at her. She looked good; her eyes were bright and lively, her hair falling on her shoulders like a carefully painted work of art, her expression calm. I especially enjoyed the slight flush in her cheeks, considering how dead she'd appeared the last time I saw her.

"It's not a big deal," she answered. "I'd be an ass if I drove by and let you walk to my place when I'm going there anyways. I'm just picking up a friend then going back."

An uneasy weight settled on my chest as she drove on. I knew (y/n) was popular; she had endless contacts in her phone, thousands on thousands of followers, answering calls from strangers at least twice a day. All that felt so distant though, as if those people somehow existed in another universe separate from her and I. I never met any of her friends or family, and she never gave any details about them if I'd ask.

We drove around for longer than I anticipated, especially when I took note that we passed the same street three times. I wondered if she was lost and too embarrassed to ask for help but as we pulled into her own driveway confusion settled over me.

"What about your friend?" I turned to face her. Her skin was a deep red, the color blotched down her neck as she kept her face turned away from me.

"I lied," she said, her voice meek.

"What? Why?"

"I was driving around because I figured you'd be walking and I... I wanted to see you, I guess," she got out of the car, still careful not to make eye contact with me. "It was stupid. Sorry." I laughed as we climbed up the metal stairs to her door, tempted to grab her in an embrace before we were surrounded by others.

"You don't need to apologize," I laughed, deciding to keep my distance from her. She turned to face me, her cheeks still red as she gave me a heavenly smile.

"You look very nice," she whispered as she turned and opened the door, no time to lose my head over her words. The apartment wasn't packed like I imagined; a few unfamiliar faces stood around, but I felt a mix of relief and guilt seeing some of my teammates. Asahi noted my presence first, his gaze unreadable as he made no effort to approach me. The fear of sticking myself to (y/n) the whole night creeped up and as she left me for a few moments I wedged myself between Kageyama and Hinata on the couch, neither of them too aware of the tension between me and seemingly the entire world.

"Suga! I didn't know you were coming!" Hinata said, fiddling nervously with a red plastic cup in his hands. I glanced down at it and the look of terror on his face was priceless as he nearly spilled it placing it on the coffee table.

"You can drink if you want," I laughed. "I won't tell."

"Really? You won't tell Daichi? He's not gonna be here, is he?" He looked around frantically, as if Daichi was somehow lurking among everyone.

"Dumbass," Kageyama muttered, glaring across me at Hinata. "Daichi wouldn't come to (y/n)'s house after he was with Sugawara behind her back."

A silence so loud it nearly broke my eardrums fell across the three of us. A few moments passed and Kageyama slowly realized exactly what he said, all of us bright red with embarrassment.

"Suga-san, I- I'm really, really so-"

"It's okay!" I laughed, flashing my most convincing smile as I stood up from the couch. "I think I'm gonna get a drink." I plastered my smile on as I crossed to the kitchen, ready to sign myself away to a quiet drunk night on (y/n)'s couch. She approached me from where I awkwardly placed myself by the counter, patiently waiting for a couple of strangers to move away from the fridge. She shimmied around them, the distance between us so small that if I even shifted my weight we'd be touching.

"What can I get for you?" She smiled, probably a little buzzed already. She kept squirming around, nudging against me every couple of seconds.

"I don't know," I laughed, keeping my voice quiet enough just for her to hear. "You know I don't really drink much." She giggled, the sound as strange as I remembered, taking a step so that I was pushed against the wall. My every fantasy flashed in my head as she smirked, reaching around to the cabinet just above my head. She pulled out a bottle of clear liquid, with a picture of a piece of cake on the label.

"You can only drink if you promise to stay the night," she winked at me, her eyes sparkling in the dim overhead light. Everyone seemed to dissappear and I was alone with her; our eyes locked, our every movement somehow calculated to match each other's. I knew that even if we both ended up piss drunk I'd just carry her to bed and sleep on the floor, my wildest dreams staying just that.

"Promise." I whispered, holding out my pinky for her. She giggled but ignored my hand- I chalked it up to her being tipsy, especially when she nearly broke an ankle twirling around to pluck a red cup from the stack on the counter. She began to pour the vodka in and I thankfully was paying attention as she nearly filled half the cup before I stopped her.

"What the hell?" I squealed, reaching to take the bottle from her. She arched her back away from me, a sneaky grin as I inadvertently ended up just inches from her. I narrowed my eyes; I'd never actually seen (y/n) drunk. Every now and then she'd have a beer at dinner, scolding me when I asked for one ("you're an athlete!").

"Are you trying to kill me?" I scoffed, dumping some of the drink in the sink. She frowned but stayed quiet as she opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of seltzer water, filling the rest of my cup with the bubbly liquid.

"I hope you're more fun drunk than you are now," she grumbled as she shoved the drink into my chest, splashing onto my shirt.

She stared at me as I took a sip, the faux anger fading to a calm. The drink was still too strong for me and I desperately tried to hide the fact, squeezing my eyes shut as I swallowed. She gave me a soft laugh, her gaze almost nostalgic.

"I missed you," she said, seemingly to herself. I stayed silent; every one of my responses to those words I'd killed myself over and over to hear from her were far too much, or maybe not enough. I settled on poking her in the head, eliciting another small laugh. She opened her mouth as if to say something but I knew she wasn't drunk enough to let the words I knew she had on the tip of her tongue slip. I wasn't either, no matter how the three words clawed at my throat as she turned and left me with my drink which I finished far too quickly. After an hour and a half I was pouring my third, a happy numbness settled over me. My limbs were only slightly in my control, but I somehow managed to keep to myself, only speaking when spoken to.

As I nearly dumped the remainder of the vodka in my cup, Asahi approached me.

"Hey," he yelled. The music had gotten pretty loud and more people had shown up since I arrived.

"Hey," I nodded, too drunk to be nervous about anything he had to say to me. He had his own cup in his hand and after I finished pouring my drink he poured the rest of the vodka in his cup, taking a swig of it straight. He looked down at me, as if he had just taken a sip of lemonade on a nice summer day.

"I think I should have a talk with you."