March 26, 2016
11:19 A.M.

ur favorite lolcat: hows the train ride going?
ur favorite lolcat: have they murdered each other yet
Mr. Sugawara Daichi: Well.
ur favorite lolcat: oh man

Mr. Sugawara Daichi sent an image.

Mr Sugawara Daichi: They're asleep on each other.
ur favorite lolcat: omfg
HOOT HOOT: GOLD

Mr. Sugawara Daichi sent an image.

ur favorite lolcat: IS THAT DROOL

"Hey, guys."

Oikawa looked up from where he was gazing out the train window, watching Tokyo roll by old and new, silver and black, glass and concrete.

"Yeah?" he asked Daichi.

"Where are we meeting Kuroo and Bokuto?" Daichi wondered. "At the station, or somewhere else?"

"The station's pretty big," Oikawa said. "Iwa-chan and I nearly got lost trying to find a bathroom the last time we were here."

"You couldn't just hold it?"

Both Oikawa and Daichi turned to Ushijima, sitting in the aisle seat. He'd been fairly quiet for the past hour or so, just listening to music on his headphones - they'd assumed, after he'd sat completely still for a solid half-hour with his eyes closed, that he'd fallen back asleep.

"Not all of us have bladders of steel like you, Ushiwaka-chan," Oikawa retorted.

"I don't have a bladder of steel," Ushijima replied. "I just strategically plan out when and how much I drink water in order to control my kidneys so that I only have to pee at convenient times."

Daichi and Oikawa stared at him.

"That was a joke."

Another moment passed, then Daichi gave a polite chuckle. Oikawa only continued to stare.

"I never get your jokes, Ushiwaka-chan," he said.

Ushijima shrugged. "That's probably because you don't understand sarcasm."

"What?!" Oikawa spluttered. "I'll have you know I got a ninety-five on my modern literature exam! And I -"

"Guys," Daichi interrupted him. "The train is stopping. And I still have no idea where Bokuto and Kuroo are meeting us."

"They're going to be waiting in the central part of the station," Ushijima informed him, standing up to grab his backpack from the overhead rack.

"Oh." Daichi reached up to grab his own bag, then stopped. "Wait. How come you know this and I don't?"

"It was in the group chat." Ushijima got Daichi's bag, then handed it to him.

"Oh," Daichi repeated. "Thanks."

"Hey, Daichi," Oikawa said suddenly, pointing out the window at the last passing telephone pole before the train track dipped underground and began to speed through the dark tunnel towards the center of the city, "do you think that's the Tokyo Tower?"

Daichi's face darkened. "You know, it's really impressive that Iwaizumi doesn't punch you ten times a day."

"Iwa-chan loves me," Oikawa said with a self-satisfied grin, drawing out the loves loud enough and long enough that other people on the train turned to stare. Daichi and Ushijima headed out of their row and towards the doors in an attempt to pretend that they didn't know him.

Oikawa gasped theatrically, then hurried to catch up, knocking into seats and annoyed fellow passengers. The three captains reached the front of the train car just as the platform came into view, all bright fluorescents and colorful advertisements on the columns.

"Does everyone have their cell phones?" Daichi asked as they gripped the handrail for balance. "Wallets? Water bottles? Snacks? Chargers? Extra socks?"

Ushijima nodded at each question. Oikawa just sighed. "You did this when we got on the train, too."

"It's important to be aware of your belongings," Daichi replied. "Every time we go to an away game, Karasuno loses something. Although I've gotten the average down from ten things to four over the past year," he added, puffing his chest up proudly.

"Every time I talk to you, I understand more and more why the others call you a dad," Ushijima told him. Oikawa stifled a snicker.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Before Ushijima could answer, the train screeched to a halt, doors opening onto the platform.

"This is Tokyo Station," the announcer said pleasantly. "Be careful of the gap between the train and the platform. Transfer is available to the Keiyou line ..."

The three captains disembarked, stumbling slightly on travel-shaky legs, and followed the stream of people off the platform to the main terminal. Saturday morning was, apparently, one of the most popular travel times - as they approached the center of the station, people surrounded them on all sides, pushing and pulling until it was nearly impossible to move. The floor seemed to be white tile, and some kind of instrumental music was filtering through speakers, but it was hard to tell. Bright signs above their heads pointed out different platforms, restaurants, and shops, providing the only landmarks in a cacophony of bodies.

"How did they say we'd find them?" Daichi asked Ushijima as they passed yet another sign pointing towards Keiyou street.

Ushijima shrugged. "Kuroo just said in the center."

Oikawa grimaced. "But I think there are two centers - or, like, there are two main wings? I don't know, let me text him."

11:36 A.M.

perfectkawa ✌: where the FUCK are you guys

The response came thirty seconds and two signs later.

11:37 A.M.

ur favorite lolcat: newspaper kiosk

"He says they're by a newspaper kiosk," Oikawa reported.

The three captains stopped and rotated, scanning for newspapers and tall volleyball players with ridiculous bedhead or ridiculously loud voices. The search was difficult, and earned them several passive-aggressive " Excuse me "s from the people who passed by.

"Can you see anything, Ushijima?" Daichi asked. "You're ... taller."

Ushijima wasn't fidgeting or pacing, but his eyes flicked rapidly around the train station, betraying his slight nerves. "Country folk are not meant for the big city like this."

A rolling suitcase swerved to avoid Oikawa and hit Daichi's stomach head-on. "You're right about that."

Oikawa shook his head, clicking his tongue sympathetically. "You two are pathetic. We just have to look around, and - hey! That store has posters and stuff! I wonder if they've got any of the X Files revival-"

"Oikawa, shut up," Daichi told him mildly. "You're not helping."

After another few seconds of fruitless searching, the crowd seemed to thin out slightly - enough that they could see their surroundings a little more clearly. Unfortunately, the increased vigilance did little for their navigation abilities, which were mediocre at best.

Oikawa's phone buzzed.

11:45 A.M.

ur favorite lolcat: where tf are YOU guys

"That's not very helpful," Daichi observed.

"Were you really expecting it to be?" Oikawa shot back.

Daichi thought for a minute, then pulled out his own phone.

Luckily for Daichi's stress levels, Bokuto picked up on the third ring. "Heyheyhey!" he shouted. "Daichi! To what do I owe the pleasure!"

"Where are you?" Daichi asked.

"I thought Kuroo said - we're by the newspaper kiosk."

Daichi glanced around for a second, just to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him, then said, "Bokuto, I can see about ten newspaper kiosks from here."

"Oh."

There was a pause. Then, a change of voice.

"Look, where are you right now?" Kuroo wanted to know.

Daichi held his phone out at arm's length, then looked to Oikawa and Ushijima. "He wants to know where we are."

"I don't know where we are any more than you do!" Oikawa exclaimed.

"Well, I know if we don't figure out where we are, how are we going to find Kuroo and Bokuto?"

"Maybe we'll never find Kuroo and Bokuto!"

"You can't just say that!"

"I can, too! What if we never find them? What if we never find our train home? What if we have to stay here forever? What if we get kidnapped by the aliens that live in the ancient tunnels below the station and are forced to live as their test subjects? That might be cool, actually, but it would mean never seeing Iwa-chan again, which is just -"

"There's a store with a plant on its sign," Ushijima said.

"Okay, thank you," Daichi told him. He put his phone back to his ear. "There's a store with a plant on its sign? If that helps?"

"Yeah, actually," Kuroo replied. "Is it a cactus, a tree, or does it kind-of look like weed?"

Daichi stared back at his friends in bewilderment. "What does weed look like?"

Oikawa started snickering. "You don't know?"

"Yes, I don't know what weed looks like," Daichi said defensively. "You'd think that would be a good thing."

"It looks like that," Ushijima informed him, pointing.

Daichi breathed a sigh of relief. "Weed," he told Kuroo.

"Okay, so you're not too far," Kuroo said. "Just go forward two - two or three more signs, then go left at the coffee place, and look for the newspaper shop next to ... Next to the weird store with a bunch of lolita costumes."

"And that's where you are?" Daichi asked, just to clarify.

"It is. You can't miss us." Something about the tone of that last sentence sounded suspiciously cocky, but Daichi was too relieved to finally have some concrete instructions to follow to question it.

Daichi, Oikawa, and Ushijima proceeded forward three signs, left at the coffee place, then forward in the direction of the weird store with a bunch of lolita costumes, past several ATMs and a woman apparently trying to dictate an urgent email while simultaneously applying lipstick and walking faster in high heels than the three of them put together - and then, the meaning of Kuroo's words became clearly evident.

In the center of Tokyo Station, there stood Kuroo and Bokuto, holding a cardboard sign with handwritten letters reading, "WELCOME NATIONAL HOT DAD CONFERENCE."

They stood in the center of Tokyo Station - a public place, with a rich history, visited by thousands upon thousands of people every day - with a sign, a large sign , with enormous bold letters in bright pink, reading, "WELCOME NATIONAL HOT DAD CONFERENCE."

And, as if that wasn't enough already, they had a stroller. An actual, full-sized stroller. At this point, the recent arrivals wouldn't have been surprised if Kuroo pulled a live baby out of his backpack.

Kuroo caught sight of them, and his cheeks puckered with the effort not to smile. Daichi had to work very hard not to explode. Oikawa started to laugh, and Ushijima pulled out his phone.

"HEY HEY HEY!" Bokuto shouted, once Kuroo nudged him and jerked his head towards the approaching group. "THERE'S MY BROS!" He stepped forward, holding his arms out in welcome.

"You," Daichi started. Stopped. Tried again. "You did ... this? In a public place? "

Kuroo grinned. "Yeah, we got a lot of weird looks from people. We figured they were probably wondering where our kids were, so we stole this." He gave the stroller an experimental push. It limped on a half-detached wheel.

"You stole that, " Daichi repeated.

"Yeah, from the lost and found."

"You stole from the lost and found. "

"Okay, so we've established that Kuroo and I are geniuses and the best welcoming committee ever," Bokuto cut in. "Now, can I please hug all of you guys before my arms fall off?" He wiggled said arms a bit, grinning invitingly.

Daichi stared at him in a remarkable combination of shock and fatherly disappointment, and Oikawa was still giggling too hard to move, but Ushijima headed forward and wrapped his arms around the shorter captain. Their hug was warm, strong, and comfortable, like two bears reuniting after a long winter of hibernation.

"You give good hugs, dude," Bokuto told him, and thumped his back a few times.

"So do you," Ushiwaka replied, and patted Bokuto's shoulder awkwardly in return.

By that point, Daichi had recovered enough from his initial horror to request a hug from Bokuto as well. He then hugged Kuroo, just to be fair, then Ushijima hugged Kuroo, then Bokuto hugged Kuroo, just because. With all of this platonic public affection going on, it took them a moment to realize that Oikawa was out of sight.

Or, well, almost out of sight - a couple seconds of surveying the premises revealed the group's resident alien enthusiast power-walking away in the direction of a bathroom sign.

Daichi's face set with determination. "Okay, you all know what to do, right?"

"Of course," said Kuroo, and Bokuto and Ushijima nodded in unison.

"Right. Then, on my count - three, two, one -"

Forget public decency, forget composure - all traces of caring what anyone else in Tokyo Station cared about them flew out the window when four captains sprinted to catch a fifth, yelling at the tops of their lungs. They had power and speed and brute force all on their side, and more than that, they had spirit - the determination not to give up even when all seems lost, to fight for their friends above all else.

Oikawa didn't stand a chance.

"You know, I really did have to go to the bathroom," Oikawa said once he had disentangled himself from the group hug, brushing his hair back into place.

"You went on the train barely fifteen minutes before we got off," Daichi reminded him.

Oikawa pouted. "So I have a small bladder!"

"There's a bigger bathroom close to the exit we're going out of," Kuroo said. "You can use that one if you really have to."

Oikawa glanced down at his sneakers and mumbled something incomprehensible.

"What was that?" Kuroo asked.

"I said, I don't really have to."

Kuroo grinned. "I thought so."

The five captains, now properly assembled, headed out towards the exit, Kuroo leading the way.

"You really know your way around here," Daichi remarked as they took a shortcut through one of the smaller terminals.

Kuroo shrugged. "Yeah, well. I did a project on this place for my art history class once. It was pretty cool."

"Art history class?" Oikawa repeated, stifling a giggle.

"Yeah." Kuroo looked back to cock an eyebrow at him. "My high school had cool electives. I don't know what kind of stuff you learned about - classes in how to be a huge asshole, probably."

"Okay, for the record, I took astronomy."

"Right. So, alien classes."

After a solid minute in which Oikawa made increasingly emotional arguments about the legitimacy of aliens that they all had, to be honest, heard before, Kuroo spoke up again. "Fun fact: job of designing this building was originally given to a European architect. And he thought, big Japanese building, important for national unity, it should probably look kinda Japanese, right? So he designed a Japanese-looking building, showed it to the Meiji government or whatever, they were like, 'Nah, dude, that's way too Japanese.' And they fired him. And then, here's the best part - they gave the job to this Japanese dude, Tatsuno, who designed a more Western -looking building. I think that's fucking hilarious. But it's also really cool, because -"

"Kuroo, nobody wants to hear about your architectural facts," Oikawa told him.

Kuroo paused and looked back at the rest of the group, frowning like a cat who had been robbed of its favorite patch of sunlight. "Nobody? Really?"

"I want to hear about his architectural facts," Ushijima said.

Kuroo grinned. "You can come walk up front with me." He linked arms with Ushijima, who looked slightly nonplussed about it, and started walking again. "I knew we kept you around for a reason, Ushiwaka."

"And before we leave," Daichi put in, "we have to stop by the lost-and-found to give back that stroller."

"Can't we keep-"

" No. "

They emerged into the noise of downtown Tokyo, newly stroller-less and blinking slightly in the sunlight. Kuroo started heading towards the tiny parking section. "Our rides are - Daichi, where are you going?"

Daichi was walking purposefully across the crosswalk.

"Sawamura, you just got here, you can't leave already!" Bokuto called after him. "Man, what's he doing?" he said to the rest of the group in a normal tone of voice.

"Oh," said Oikawa, "he saw a dog."

There was a chorus of understanding ohh s, and the other four captains moved over to the side of the path to watch Daichi as he reached the other side of the street.

"May I pet him?" Daichi asked the surprised-looking owner of the lean black hound, a tall woman with a black buzzcut.

"Uh, sure," she said, and Daichi knelt in front of the dog, rubbing its sides and ruffling its ears. The dog leaned up and into his hand, and Daichi made a quiet noise of delight.

"What's his name?"

"Um, Kevin."

"That's a great name. A great name for a great dog."

Daichi spent a few more seconds petting Kevin - who was, truly, an excellent dog in all respects - before standing back up, a soft smile on his face.

"Thank you," he told the dog's owner. And he headed back across the street, to where-

He really should've expected some shenanigans to happen in his absence.

Kuroo and Bokuto had taken the opportunity to prolong the Dad Conference joke by putting on matching sunglasses. Not normal sunglasses, but wraparound sunglasses, the kind of sunglasses that should be advertised with lines like, "Are the dad jokes not just cutting it any more? Does your dad feel the need to prove that he's more than just a normal dad, he's a cool dad?"

"Guys, the sign was funny, I admit that," Oikawa was saying into his hands as Daichi approached, "but this is just embarrassing."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kuroo replied. He tilted his head back and put his hands on his hips, grinning like a smug fifty-five-year-old who just made an entirely unfunny pun.

"Yeah!" Bokuto added, beaming under his sunglasses. He sauntered up to Kuroo, then imitated his pose, except with one arm raised and his index finger pointed at the sky.

Oikawa rolled his eyes and silently asked the gods for forgiveness for whatever he must've done wrong in a past life. Ushijima appeared to be doing something on his phone a safe distance away.

"I don't see the problem, actually," Daichi said, approaching the rest of the group. "I mean, I have the same pair." He rifled through his backpack for a minute, then pulled out a pair of wraparound sunglasses identical to the ones Kuroo and Bokuto were wearing, albeit slightly more worn.

"They're very durable," he added, putting them on, "and they don't fall off easily. It's great."

Kuroo and Bokuto took one look at each other, then started laughing again.

"What?" Daichi asked. "What'd I do?"

"This is the best day of my life," Ushijima said to Oikawa.

Oikawa looked at him. "That was a joke, right?"

Ushijima shook his head. "No."

Oikawa stared for several seconds - about as long as it takes to serve an ace. "I will never understand you," he finally said.

Meanwhile, Kuroo and Bokuto seemed to have recovered enough to convey their thoughts through the medium of language.

"You're a ... cool ... guy ... Sawamura Daichi," Bokuto managed, still snickering.

Kuroo nodded, then gasped. "This is why you're the perfect person to join our moped gang."

Oikawa paled.

"Moped...gang?"

"Yeah," Kuroo said. He adjusted his sunglasses and then pointed to a few scooters parked illegally on the sidewalk. "A small one, though. We figured it would be easier to take mopeds than to walk everywhere, but we only have three - mine and Bokuto's, and then Kai, my vice captain, lent me his."

Daichi was skeptical. "Someone lent you a moped?"

Kuroo gave him a wry grin. "You know, I'm actually pretty trustworthy."

"I'd trust you with my life, bro!" Bokuto bounded ahead to the neon yellow moped, and picked up the helmet to jam it down over his spiky gray hair.

Kuroo followed at a more sedate pace. "I know, bro, I know." He stopped next to the red moped and twirled his key ring around his finger, then cursed and dove after it as it flew off the tip. "So," he continued when he had recovered it and stood up again, "one of you is going to have to drive."

Daichi frowned. "I don't have my moped license."

"Not a problem," Kuroo told him, passing around the spare helmets they'd brought.

"Yes it is. Oikawa, what about you?"

"I-" Oikawa was fidgeting. The rest of the group paused and stared at him. "I can drive, if we need me to."

"You seem nervous about it," observed Kuroo.

"I am not . It's like riding a bike, isn't it?"

"Oikawa, do you have your license?" Daichi asked.

" Yes! " Oikawa snapped.

"Can you show us?" Kuroo asked, with a sly glint in his eye.

"I-it's not on me right now, okay - I have it, I just don't-"

"Oikawa can't drive?" Bokuto tilted his head sideways, and his helmet shifted down over one ear.

"I can ," Oikawa insisted. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "I just don't want to, okay?"

"Alright," said Daichi agreeably.

Ushijima chose that moment to announce, "I have my moped license."

Oikawa furrowed his brow. "Since when do you have anything useful like that?"

"I have found it convenient when I am overseas for tournaments," Ushijima said.

The thought of Ushijima Wakatoshi solemnly rolling through New York City on a moped was too weird to dwell on. They moved past it quickly.

"In that case, Oikawa," Kuroo said, his voice dripping with honey, "you have three options. Ride with me, ride with Ushiwaka, or ride with Bokuto."

Oikawa gave him a look usually reserved for food that had grown mold in the back of the refrigerator. "Those are all terrible options."

Bokuto pouted. "Aw, bro, I'm a great driver."

"Of course you are," said Oikawa. "So, Kuroo or Ushiwaka." Ushijima, who had climbed onto the silver moped, looked up briefly at the mention of his name and then returned to examining the controls.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. "You're considering snuggling up to someone else over me? I'm hurt."

Oikawa went over to Ushijima's moped and swung his leg over the seat without a word.

"Aw, don't be like that." Mischief danced in Kuroo's eyes. "You like me, remember?"

"I plead not guilty on the grounds of emotional duress," Oikawa answered blithely, and Ushijima chose that moment to floor it.

"Suit yourself," Kuroo said to the empty space where Ushijima's moped had been, and turned to Daichi. "What about you, Sawamura? It's either me or Bokuto."

"Um..." Daichi looked back and forth between the two of them. Bokuto was going cross-eyed trying to tighten his helmet's chinstrap. Kuroo was attempting to lean nonchalantly against his moped, but it wasn't heavy enough to bear his weight, and his arms were shaking trying to maintain the awkward position. Neither option looked like someone he would entrust with his life.

"I'm a good driver!" Bokuto insisted, and then yelped as he caught his finger in the buckle.

"I can drive fine," Kuroo added. His reassuring tone soothed Daichi's nerves, and Daichi nodded firmly.

"Okay, you then."

Kuroo certainly could drive fine. Daichi had absolute confidence that Kuroo was capable of safe, sensible driving.

Whether or not Kuroo would drive fine was a question he had not thought to ask himself. There were a lot of things Daichi wished he had thought to ask himself.

"Can you at least stop weaving in and out of traffic?" he asked Kuroo's back, in a tone far too close to pleading for his own comfort.

Kuroo considered for a moment, and then happily told him, "No." He was saved from Daichi's incensed response by the light turning green, and the moped careened forward again. Daichi gripped his waist, buried his face in the back of Kuroo's slightly sweaty t-shirt, and accepted the inevitability of death.

Next to them, Bokuto was trundling along at a smooth, regular pace. Carefully clicking on his turn signal and checking over his shoulder, he smoothly changed lanes, and took his eyes off the road for a moment to catch Daichi's stare and wave cheerily at him. Ushijima and Oikawa's moped was nowhere to be seen.

After some truly alarming maneuvers and Daichi whispering apologies under his breath to the angry honks around them, they slowed to a gradual stop. Too gradual.

"You stopped at that light too slowly," Daichi said, with a note of hopelessness in his voice. Obligingly, Kuroo waited until long past the last second to brake for the next one, and then slammed on the brakes to the sound of Daichi's incoherent yelling. The moped screeched to a halt a centimeter short of the white line.

Kuroo was doing a good job of hiding it, but Daichi could see his cheeks puffing up in a smile.

"You're enjoying this," he accused.

"Yes," Kuroo agreed.

"How's it going, Daichi?" Bokuto said, idling next to them.

Daichi groaned in response, and Kuroo laughed out loud.

"Why didn't I ride with you, Bokuto?" Daichi asked piteously.

"I told you I was a good driver, bro!"

Daichi blinked. Shit , he had.

"Well-"

He was interrupted by Kuroo gunning it, and he tipped precariously to one side before locking his powerful thighs around the moped seat. As he was righting himself, he caught sight of something up ahead. He peered out from Kuroo's back to take a closer look as they approached, and sure enough-

Daichi's eyes widened, and he shrieked into Kuroo's ear,

"STOP!"

Oikawa was only on the moped for about one millionth of a second before every instinct in his body told him to get off the moped.

Unfortunately, the moped was already on the move, weaving deftly in and out of traffic. Normally, Oikawa was comfortable with fast - fast was what he did, fast was how he won - but something about this, hurtling through the crowded city on a flimsy piece of metal and plastic with one of his least favorite people in the entire world - this was distinctly not how he'd expected to spend his Saturday

"Are you okay?" Ushijima asked over his shoulder, with honest concern.

"Fuck you," said Oikawa cheerfully, and then locked his arms around Ushijima's waist and screamed into his shoulderblades.

Tokyo flew by in a blur of wind and sound, car horns and sirens and shouting kids. Everything seemed louder to Oikawa with his eyes closed, as though he was riding through the middle of a thunderstorm - only instead of thunder and lightning and rain, he had a roaring moped, wind whipping through his hair, and his arch-nemesis, strangely steady in front of him. Oikawa pretended, for a second, that it was Iwaizumi he was holding onto, Iwaizumi staying steady as the city flew by - but then he caught himself hugging closer and sat up suddenly, eyes startling open.

"You okay?" Ushijima asked again.

"Fine, I'm fine, everything's fine," Oikawa insisted. He'd intended to squeeze his eyes shut once more, but they seemed stuck open in morbid fascination, and he caught himself staring - at buildings and advertisements and people, so many people, all moving so much faster and with so much more purpose than the people in his town. He scanned the crowds of cars and bikes, seeking out the other two mopeds - Kuroo definitely wouldn't be hard to spot, what with his bright red bike, and Bokuto would probably be yelling or something -

But much as Oikawa looked, there was no sign of bedhead or hooting. Possibly even worse, Daichi, the only bastion of sanity among the lot of them, was also lost in the crowd. What was Oikawa supposed to do, talk to Ushijima? Right. Sure.

"Stop fidgeting," Ushijima said. The moped slowed down at a light, and its driver turned back to examine Oikawa.

Oikawa started fidgeting more, just on principle. "Do you see Kuroo and Daichi? Or Bokuto? I don't see them."

"I was following Kuroo," Ushijima replied. "But I think he turned a couple of lights back, I don't know where."

Oikawa worked very hard to restrain himself from screeching. "How can you say that so calmly ?" he demanded instead. "Do you have any idea where we are?"

The light turned green, and Ushijima revved the engine as though they weren't all alone in the middle of Tokyo. "We're on Prefectural Route 407."

"Okay, but where are we going?"

"Further down Route 407, I presume. The Tokyo Tower is that way." Ushijima indicated the road in front of them with his hand.

"Are you sure?"

Ushijima shrugged. His movement caused the moped to shift ever so slightly, and Oikawa cringed at the swaying. Then, after a moment, he said, "I can pull over and we can look at a map, if you want."

"Um." Oikawa's instincts were all screaming to say no, fuck you, I don't need anything from you, if you get me lost I'll fucking destroy you.

"If you don't mind," he said.

"I don't."

And, as easily as that, Ushijima turned left at the next light, pulled into a side-street, then parked the moped on the curb. He waited until Oikawa climbed down, legs strangely shaky, before dismounting himself. Ushijima sat down on the curb, reached for his water bottle, and started to drink it down.

"Hydration is important," he said, when he caught Oikawa staring.

"I - I know that," Oikawa replied, weirdly angry.

A car honked out on the street they'd just left. Someone shouted a curse.

"Oikawa," Ushijima said.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you so uncomfortable with me?"

Oikawa started to deny it - prepared to concoct excuses, fictions - but he looked at Ushijima, and all of his creative fabrications fell away like exhaustion after a victory. Oikawa had always prided himself on his ability to perceive the other team's strategy, stay one step ahead, but Ushijima was blunt and honest in a way he'd never been able to quite figure out.

"You've beaten me," Oikawa said carefully, "so many times. Eight times, and that's just in official matches. There're also practice matches, and indirect victories, and psychological warfare, and on top of that you saying I should've come to Shiratorizawa like it's that fucking easy, and -"

"I didn't realize you cared so much." Ushijima took another drink of his water, then set the bottle down on the curb beside him. He stared straight ahead at the buildings across the street - apartment buildings, a laundromat, a tiny grocery store.

"Of course I care!" Oikawa tried not to shout, but his raised voice still echoed against the concrete walls. "I worked hard! I worked so hard! I wanted to go to nationals, just like you did!"

Ushijima shrugged. "Going to nationals isn't that great. All the teams are very, very good. The games are all exhausting."

Oikawa spun around to face Ushijima and pointed an angry index finger at him. "You're lying. You loved going to Nationals."

A moment passed, then Ushijima admitted, "I did." He stretched his legs out in front of him. "But I never understood why you thought you'd be able to go. Seijoh was never the strongest."

"It's not - it's not always about being the strongest." Oikawa breathed in, breathed out. Paced back and forth in the street. "It's about making yourself the strongest. Trying even though you know you aren't the strongest. I mean, how do you think Karasuno beat you?"

"I suppose you're right," Ushijima conceded. "Karasuno accomplished something I never expected. Perhaps I have been unfair to you."

Oikawa started to say something, a victorious smirk half-formed on his face - but Ushijima went on.

"But all of the years we've known each other, I've only told you what I believe. I don't understand why you would hate or exclude me."

"We were rivals!" Oikawa exclaimed.

"We were?"

"You didn't think so?"

"I don't have rivals," Ushijima said truthfully. "There are only people I play against and people I play with. Sometimes those people are the same. Sometimes they aren't."

A car honked, out on the main street. A couple of kids sprinted out of the grocery store, one of them chasing the other. The first girl reached a corner, stopped, then tagged her friend as she barrelled around it.

"I'm," Oikawa said. He stopped pacing, and looked directly at Ushijima. "I'm. Sorry if I was. Unfair. I guess ... I've always resented your ability more than I've resented you."

Ushijima nodded.

Then, he said, "I do admire you."

Oikawa's cheeks went red. "Is - is that a joke?"

"No." Ushijima shook his head. "You work hard. At volleyball, school, talking to people - everything. I hadn't known how much time you spent practicing - even more than I do."

"And you ... realized?"

"Iwaizumi told me."

"Iwa-chan." Oikawa's eyes widened like a cartoonish alien. "You talk to Iwa-chan?"

Ushijima shrugged. "Sometimes. We had two or three Skype conversations. About volleyball, mostly. His idea."

Oikawa sat down on the curb next to Ushijima, so that their knees were almost touching. "He's too good for me, really," he admitted in a small voice. "I don't know what I'll do without him next year."

Ushijima nodded again, then said, "Talk to me about it."

And easily, simply, like a dam finally breaking or a quick set finally clicking, Oikawa talked. He talked about how Iwaizumi would text him not to forget his homework, even though they were both supposedly responsible third-years. He talked about how Iwaizumi would stay after practice with him, day after day, practicing quicks and spikes and serves until their palms were raw. He talked about how Iwaizumi would go grocery shopping with him for team parties, arguing over how many bags of chips they should buy and laughing when terrible songs came on the grocery store radio. He talked about how Iwaizumi would tell him what he needed to hear when he didn't know he needed to hear it. He talked about missing Iwaizumi - missing him next year, missing every moment they weren't spending together, missing him even as he was right there. He talked about how he couldn't quite imagine life without Iwaizumi - without someone at his back, at his side, piecing him back together when he shattered.

After a while, Oikawa fell silent, deeply lost in thought. Ushijima was quiet next to him. He was almost on the verge of telling Ushijima what Iwaizumi had said that past Valentine's Day, promises still ringing in his ears, when-

"I know the way to Tokyo Tower," Ushijima said.

"What?" Oikawa asked, confused.

Ushijima held up his phone. "Google Maps. Has directions."

"Oh."

Ushijima stood up, and Oikawa followed. They both got back on the moped, returning to their former position as though nothing had happened.

But then, right before he started the engine, Ushijima said, "Oikawa."

"Yeah?"

"I think you and Iwaizumi are going to be fine."

Oikawa didn't answer, and the rest of the ride passed quietly, smoother and calmer than the way there. The only sound besides the ambient city was the voice of Google Maps, and soon enough, they were pulling up to a small parking lot in the shadow of the colossal Tokyo Tower. In the end, they hadn't been that far away.

"Just find the other two mopeds and park next to them," Oikawa directed as they pulled into the lot. In a gesture of uncharacteristic benevolence, he rested his cheek against Ushijima's back and closed his eyes. The emotional exertion had drained him too much to care.

"Okay," Ushijima said.

Several minutes passed.

"Ushiwaka, are you lost again?"

"No," Ushijima said.

"Then why have we been driving around this small parking lot for..." Oikawa raised his head to check his watch. "Twelve minutes?"

"There are no mopeds here," Ushijima said.

"What? Pull over."

Ushijima obliged, and Oikawa climbed off the moped, stretching his arms above his head and kicking his legs to shake strength back into them. He glanced around the lot. Sure enough, there were cars and some bicycles, but no trace of Kuroo, Bokuto, and Daichi.

Oikawa frowned. "Do you think they went up without us?" An even worse thought occurred to him. "Do you think they already went up and came down and left?"

"Probably," Ushijima replied, still sitting on the moped.

" What?! Really?!"

"No."

"Ugh," Oikawa said, without any real malice. He flopped down in the sparse grass at the edge of the parking lot, squinting up at the sun high overhead. "Ushiwaka, we're stranded."

"Mm."

"We're going to have to forage for food and shelter." He heaved a deep, prolonged sigh. "Stuck in the labyrinth of Tokyo forever, because the only people who know their way around have left us for the vultures."

"You could message the group."

"...oh."

1:08 P.M.

perfectkawa ✌: where are you guys
perfectkawa ✌: did you ditch me with ushiwaka
ur favorite lolcat: where are YOU
perfectkawa ✌: tokyo tower???
ur favorite lolcat: it took you this long?
perfectkawa ✌: ok kuroo-chan you STILL arent here so
ur favorite lolcat: we uh
ur favorite lolcat: had to pull over
perfectkawa ✌: because of your shitty driving skills?
ur favorite lolcat: NO
perfectkawa ✌: then why???
ur favorite lolcat: um

"Oh my god, he's so excited."

The labrador retriever was prancing around Daichi's legs, pressing itself against the famed thighs and entangling him in its leash, which he looked thoroughly delighted about. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, the pale teenage boy attached to its leash looked pleased at Daichi's words. "Thanks. He's a handful, but it's worth it."

"I do!" Daichi reached out to pat the dog's head, and instead got a palmful of cold, wet nose that snuffled with excitement against his hand. He grinned like a fool. "What's his name?"

"Radiation," said the boy.

"A really good name," Daichi murmured. "You're a good dog, you know that?"

"Daichi," said Kuroo from where he and Bokuto were standing to the side, "you've got a problem."

"The only problem here is that you're not petting this dog with me," Daichi told him without looking away from the dog. "Such a good dog..."

"I'll pet the dog with you, bro!" Bokuto approached the small group and squatted down, holding a hand out to Radiation, which the black lab licked excitedly. "Oh, man, that's gross!" He snorted out laughter as the dog licked with even more enthusiasm.

"That's probably been on his butt, you know," Kuroo said, wrinkling his nose a little.

"You're missing out, bro, this is a great dog here."

"Bokuto is right," Daichi put in, now entirely entangled in Radiation's leash and grinning hugely.

Kuroo just shook his head and pulled out his phone to reply to the chat.

1:13 P.M.

ur favorite lolcat: daichi saw a dog and made me pull over
ur favorite lolcat: and now he's dragged bokuto into petting it with him
perfectkawa ✌: oh
ur favorite lolcat: well be there as soon as possible just sit tight for now
ur favorite lolcat: you and ushiwaka can play truth or dare or something
perfectkawa ✌: ha ha, you're hilarious. wonderful joke. i am laughing so hard right now.

"Truth," Oikawa said confidently. "Do your worst."

Ushijima considered for a moment. "Um... Do you have any spiking advice for me?"

Oikawa blinked. "What?"

"Do you have any spiking advice for me?" Ushijima repeated. "Areas for improvement?"

Oikawa huffed in irritation. "Ushiwaka, that's not how Truth or Dare works."

"But I would like to know," Ushijima said. "And we won't be playing against each other every year anymore, so telling me will have no negative impact on you."

"No, it's the principle of the matter," Oikawa argued.

"You know a lot about my playing style," Ushijima urged him. "And you have a good eye for these things."

"I - I do? Wait, no, you can't flatter me into spilling secrets!"

"You said the point of this game was to spill secrets," Ushijima said reproachfully.

The rapidly worsening situation was thankfully cut off by the arrival of two mopeds pulling into the parking lot. Oikawa and Ushijima got to their feet, and Oikawa waved Kuroo over to them. Kuroo and Bokuto parked their two scooters, and Daichi immediately half-fell off the back of Kuroo's, yanking his helmet off and staggering a few steps.

Oikawa gave him a questioning look. "Daichi, are you okay?"

"This guy's a terrible driver," Daichi said, jerking a thumb at Kuroo, who looked entirely too smug. "There was a dog in the middle of it, so it was okay, but I thought we were going to die."

"We didn't die," added Bokuto unnecessarily.

"I'm sure you were fine," Oikawa told Daichi. "Can we go in now?"

"Yeah, yeah, let's go."

Before they reached the elevators, Ushijima caught sight of the One Piece store, and asked Daichi if they could stop for souvenirs. Daichi agreed, sent Bokuto and Oikawa ahead to wait in line for tickets, and waited just inside the entrance while Ushijima went into the shop with Kuroo trailing after him.

"I am going to get something for Satori. He likes One Piece," Ushijima explained to Kuroo as he knelt down in front of the keychain rack.

"Yeah, you mentioned it." Kuroo, who was slightly out of his element, leaned against a stand of manga volumes, then lurched upright in surprise and barely caught the cardboard display as it began to fall under his weight.

Ushijima looked up at him, frowning in slight confusion. "When did I do that?"

"During the Skype call before graduation." Kuroo carefully set the display upright again, and immediately bumped it with his elbow, knocking several volumes to the floor. He knelt down with a sigh and began to gather them up.

"Oh," said Ushijima. "I don't remember." He picked out a Chopper keychain and went over to the register, where Daichi was waiting in line with a yellow straw hat decorated with a red ribbon.

"I didn't know you enjoyed One Piece, Daichi."

Daichi shook his head. "To be honest, I don't really know what anything in this store means. But they had a bunch of these hats, and I think it suits me, don't you?" he asked, putting the hat on his head.

"It's very stylish," Ushijima agreed.

Daichi frowned at the tickets from under the brim of his straw hat. "So... There's a main observatory, and then a special observatory a lot higher, and we're going to both?"

"Yup!" said Bokuto cheerfully.

"Alright." Daichi handed out a ticket to each member of the group. "Make sure you keep track of your ticket. And stay close, I don't want anyone to get lost."

"Will do," said Kuroo and Oikawa said in unison. Surprised, they turned to stare at each other, one looking thoroughly amused, the other horrified.

"Kids, let's go," Daichi interrupted. "It's our turn."

Behind Daichi's back, Kuroo raised a concerned eyebrow at Bokuto, who flashed him a reassuring smile. Oikawa gave them both a curious look, but didn't say anything as they filed into the elevator.

Ten minutes later, Oikawa had figured out exactly why Kuroo had been worried. With Bokuto cowering back as far from the glass floor as possible, it would've been difficult to miss.

"So," said Oikawa, standing next to him as the other three captains stared down through the glass in morbid fascination, "you planned for us to come to Tokyo Tower, but you're scared of heights?"

"I thought it would be nice for you guys," Bokuto mumbled. In front of them, Ushijima knelt down on the glass and peered through it up-close. Bokuto looked queasier by the second. "Been like this since I was a kid."

Oikawa patted his arm. "It's okay. It's only, like, a hundred and fifty meters down?"

Bokuto made a noise like a dying peacock.

On the glass, Daichi was stepping carefully, looking down at his feet in slight awe. "We're so tall..."

"Scared, Sawamura?" Kuroo asked, with the same sly smile he had worn every time the two of them did their traditional bone-crunching handshake before matches.

Daichi rolled his eyes. "As if. You're more likely to be scared than I am."

"That's a lie," Kuroo sing-songed.

"Yeah? Would you do this?" Daichi stomped on the glass, hard, and grunted with approval of his own bravery. Ushijima was lying all the way down by now, craning his neck to see as much of the city as possible.

Kuroo grinned. "Is that a challenge?" Taking a solid stance on the glass, he jumped, getting some pretty good height, and then landed hard. Bokuto buried his face in the sleeve of Oikawa's jacket and whimpered a little.

"When you guys are done with your dick-measuring contest," Oikawa called over to them, "we have another level to get to."

"Right. Sorry." Daichi looked slightly embarrassed, but not too embarrassed to thump his foot one more time on the glass. In return, Kuroo purposefully jostled him in the shoulder.

Ushijima got up and brushed the dust off his knees, and then noticed Bokuto. "Is he okay?"

"He's scared of heights," Kuroo explained, coming up behind the rest of the group.

Daichi looked alarmed. "Bokuto, are you going to be okay? We can go back down if you want. I mean that."

"I'll be okay," came Bokuto's muffled voice through Oikawa's sweater. His miserable tone told a different story.

"He said at the bottom he'd be fine," Kuroo muttered. "Dumb owl."

"It would've been more helpful if you three hadn't been jumping around on the glass floor," Oikawa informed them with a sunny smile. They looked properly abashed.

Bokuto peeked out from Oikawa's sleeve, having regained some color in his face. "Seriously, guys, I'll be fine! As long as I'm not too near the edge and stuff."

"If you're sure," Daichi said, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

Despite Daichi's misgivings, Bokuto was true to his word. In the upper observation deck, he stayed close to the middle while the rest of the group wandered around the edges, and all was well.

"This is so cool," Daichi whispered as the four of them paused at the railing and stared westward.

"It really is," Kuroo whispered back.

"Why are we whispering?" Ushijima asked in a stage-whisper, approximately ten times louder than his friends'.

"I don't know, dude, but I feel it," Kuroo whispered, more quietly.

"Okay," Ushijima replied.

"Can you guys shut up for a second?" Oikawa asked at normal speaking volume, fiddling with his phone. "I'm trying to get a good shot for Instagram."

Tokyo stretched out beneath them, buildings glittering in the sunlight. It was a city of silver and glass, all high-rises and skyscrapers reaching up like a thousand little giants trying to touch the sun. Cars sped down the freeways in swarms, planes thundered overhead, and people were moving through the streets - too small to see from three hundred meters in the air, but down there, somewhere, people were going places, and meeting each other, and learning, and laughing, and giving, and growing together.

"Hey, I can see my house from here!" Kuroo exclaimed, pointing to one of the suburbs sprawling out to the west.

Daichi tried to follow his finger for a good ten seconds before he realized that Kuroo was kidding. He frowned at Kuroo, who smiled back at him with too much glee to be really angry at.

"What does your house look like, Kuroo?" Ushijima asked.

"It's nothing special." Kuroo shrugged. "Small - one floor, four rooms - just enough space for my mom and me. Man, I'm gonna miss my bed, though. It's way bigger and more comfortable than that shit they give you at the university."

"Where are you going to college?" Oikawa wondered, slipping his phone into his pocket and approaching the window to stand next to his friend.

"I didn't tell you?"

"He's going to Keio University!" Bokuto called from the center of the room.

Kuroo turned around. "Bro, you sure you don't want to come over here?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm good! You guys keep talking!"

Oikawa shook his head, amused at Bokuto's enthusiasm at a distance. "Keio, really?" he asked, turning back to Kuroo. "I thought that was a science school."

"Yeah, it is."

"What about all your ..." Oikawa trailed off.

Kuroo looked at him. "My what?"

"Your, I don't know. Shakespeare. And architecture facts. I thought you would've gone somewhere to study literature or something."

"I mean, I'd love to," Kuroo admitted. He breathed onto the glass, then reached out and traced the outline of a skyscraper with his finger. "I'd love to be a teacher, or something. But the program I really wanted to join didn't accept me, and Keio gave me a good scholarship, and, I don't know, I've always thought chemistry was cool, so." He shrugged, and dropped his hand to his side, and the drawing faded as quickly as he'd made it. "I'll be fine."

A moment passed, then Oikawa nodded. "Cats always land on their feet, right?"

"Exactly." Kuroo grinned. "What about you? Where're you going?"

"Tsukuba," Oikawa replied. "For law, probably. But I got recruited."

"Recruited? Really? Dude, that's great." Kuroo held out his hand for a fist-bump.

Oikawa accepted, returning his friend's grin. "Iwa-chan's staying closer to home, which is gonna suck, but I'm really excited. They have a setter right now who's top ten in the nation, but he's going to be a third year next year, so I can totally take him."

"Definitely," Kuroo agreed. "Don't kill yourself doing it, though."

"Hey, I got recruited, too!" Bokuto called.

"Everyone and their cat knows you got recruited!" Kuroo shouted back. "Chuo University, best in the nation, destroys other schools with its awesomeness -"

"Hell yeah!"

Oikawa spun around. "Wait, you got recruited to Chuo ? Damn. "

"I know, right?" Bokuto replied, beaming. He moved closer to the rest of the group, although he still carefully avoided looking out the windows.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. "Don't feed his ego."

"I'll feed anyone's ego I want."

"Will you feed my ego?" Ushijima asked, returning from the other side of the observation deck, where he had been investigating the eastward view.

Oikawa just glared at him.

"Does your ego really need to be fed, Ushiwaka?" Bokuto asked. "Or, wait - that was a joke."

Ushijima nodded, and Bokuto crowed with delight.

"It really doesn't, though," Oikawa said, pouting. " He got recruited by Juntendo as a new starter. And he hasn't even gone there yet!"

"Dude!" Bokuto exclaimed. "Isn't that in Tokyo?"

Ushijima tilted his head sideways, thinking. "I believe so."

Bokuto pointed at himself, grinning widely. " I'm going to school in Tokyo!"

"Great," Oikawa said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Everyone's going to school in Tokyo. Everyone got recruited as a wing spiker. Everyone's so cool."

"You also got recruited," Ushijima told him. "And I lost my spot at Chuo after Shiratorizawa failed to get to nationals last year."

"Oh," Oikawa said.

Bokuto winced.

Ushijima just looked out the window, staring up at the cloudless blue sky.

"Still, Juntendo is good," Kuroo said, a little too loudly. "Everyone got fancy volleyball scholarships except me and Daichi - wait, where is Daichi?"

"He's over there." Ushijima pointed. "Looking for dogs or something."

They looked - and there, indeed, Daichi was, face pressed to the window, scanning a park three hundred meters beneath him.

"You're not going to be able to see individual dogs from up here," Oikawa said as the group came up behind him.

"Not with that attitude," Daichi replied, his head not moving from its position.

"Daichi, you're going to hurt your eyes," Kuroo said.

Ushijima stepped forward, pressed his own face against the window for a few seconds, then pointed. "There's one."

Daichi looked, then kind of yelled a little. "Yeah! There is! What a good dog!"

"I think they had binoculars available by the elevator," Ushijima told him.

Sixty seconds later, Ushijima and Daichi were peering at the dog through pairs of borrowed binoculars. "Hello there," Daichi said aloud, sounding absurdly pleased. The dog was sitting up straight next to its smiling, grey-haired owner, watching two toddlers who were presumably the owner's grandchildren running around the playground with an alert and serious face.

"It's a Rottweiler, I think," said Ushijima. The dog was black with splotches of tan. Its ears were perky, and as they watched, it got to its feet and trotted towards the two kids, nosing them firmly away from the big-kid jungle gym and herding them back towards the sandbox.

"Ohhhh." Daichi sighed happily. "A really good dog."

"Can I have a look?" Ushijima asked, and Daichi handed him his binoculars.

As Ushijima examined the dog, Daichi addressed Kuroo and Bokuto, accusatory. "I can't believe you guys never told me Tokyo had so many good dogs. If I'd known, I would've come and visited ages ago."

"But now you have a reason to visit me and Ushiwaka next year!" Bokuto exclaimed.

Daichi tore his eyes away from the dog to look at Bokuto. "You're going to be in Tokyo next year?"

"Yeah, at Chuo University. I got recruited! For volleyball! And Ushiwaka did, too!"

"Bokuto, that's incredible! Well done!"

Bokuto grinned, standing up a little straighter. Kuroo could practically feel his ego doubling in size, and rolled his eyes in annoyance that barely masked his pride in his friend's accomplishment.

"Daichi, where are you going to school?" he asked.

Daichi turned back to the window. "Oh, I'm going to Miyagi University - you probably wouldn't have heard of it, it's just the public university in our prefecture. But it has a good business program, and if I work all four years and summers, I can afford it. Plus, Suga got into the school of education there, so we're planning to get an apartment together..."

The rest of the group fell silent.

Daichi turned around to face his friends - they all carefully avoided his gaze like a poorly-planned game of hide and seek.

"What?" he asked, planting his hands on his hips. "Is going to a public university really so shameful? I know I'm not as good an athlete as you guys, but-"

"No, it's not that." Bokuto shook his head.

"Then ... what is it?"

A moment passed in silence. Across the observatory deck, a kid shouted that he felt really tall.

"We're jealous," Oikawa admitted.

"Jealous?" Daichi repeated, confused. "Why would you be ..."

"You're staying close to home," Kuroo said. "Not going too far from your school."

"You can go to your team's matches," Bokuto added.

And even Ushijima spoke up: "You're getting an apartment with Suga." He fiddled with the Chopper keychain in his hand, expression unreadable.

"Oh," Daichi said, helplessly. "But I'm... I'm not going into a really good school, or playing on a nationally ranked team, or..."

Ushijima looked up, meeting Daichi's gaze. "That isn't always important."

"Living with your boyfriend..." Oikawa trailed off wistfully. "Do you have any idea how good that sounds? It might be years until Iwa-chan and I can do that."

Daich rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know, my parents were worried about it. They thought it would prevent me from making friends in college or something."

Oikawa shook his head. "Bullshit."

"Yeah," Bokuto agreed. "Bull. Shit."

"Bro, aren't you still living in the same city as Akaashi, though?" Kuroo asked. "It's not like you're moving halfway across the country."

"Yeah, but it's not the same ." Bokuto's voice rose, as though someone had turned up the volume on a stereo. "He said we could still practice all the time, but I'm going to be trying not to fail my classes, and he's going to be running the team and applying to schools and... What if I'm not a good volleyball player without him? Like, if I go into dejected mode and I just stay there forever? Or if I'm an awful ace for my new team? What if-"

"Bro. Bro," Kuroo interrupted him. "Come here." He patted the handrail next to him, and Bokuto's eyes widened. He took a step back instinctively.

"What?" His voice was sharp with panic. "You know I'm - I mean, I'm fine, I'm fine - but -"

Kuroo shook his head. "Come here," he repeated.

Bokuto stared at Kuroo, then at the window. His eyes were very wide.

"It's okay," Daichi assured him. "The glass won't break."

Oikawa grinned. "Like, seriously, it would beat Iwa-chan in an arm-wrestling match, and nothing beats Iwa-chan in an arm-wrestling match."

Bokuto took one hesitant step forward, then stopped, paralyzed.

"You don't have to if you really don't want to," Kuroo added, "but I want to show you something."

Ushijima reached out his hand.

Bokuto took it.

He walked forward slowly. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Twenty steps, and - Bokuto stood, staring at his feet and squeezing Ushijima's hand in a death grip - and then, centimeter by centimeter, he raised his face to the glass.

His friends burst out in excited noise - Oikawa whooped, Daichi applauded, and Kuroo thumped his best friend on the back with a stream of delighted congratulations. Even Ushijima murmured a quiet, "Well done."

"Okay," Bokuto said, sucking in and letting out a long, shuddery breath. "Okay. What do you want to show me?"

"Look," Kuroo replied, pointing towards the window.

"What am I looking at?"

"Look."

And Bokuto looked - at the skyscrapers below them, at the miniature trees, at the postage-stamp parks, at the huge blue sky curving over them.

"There's so... much," he said.

Kuroo cleared his throat. "Tokyo was the biggest city in the world, once. During the Tokugawa period. Or, I mean, it was Edo then, but there were one million people -"

"Kuroo, nobody wants to hear your dumb nerd facts," Oikawa reminded him sweetly.

"Right." Kuroo turned back to Bokuto, then pointed at the streets three hundred meters below. "The point is. Look at all of those people."

Bokuto closed his eyes for a second, breathed, gripped Ushijima's hand tighter, then followed instructions. "Okay. I'm - I'm looking."

"One day," Kuroo told him, "they're all gonna know who you are."

Bokuto leaned on the railing, watching the tiny humans below scurry through the streets. "Are you sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure. Have I ever lied to you?"

"Yeah. Bro, yesterday, you said -"

"Have I ever lied to you when it was important ?"

"Dude, Fruit Ninja is so important."

Kuroo gave him a look.

"Okay, no," Bokuto conceded.

"And I'm not lying now," Kuroo said. "You're gonna be famous. The next big thing since thigh-high fishnets."

Bokuto stared at his friend, then started to giggle. "Dude, you're so gay. "

Kuroo's face went red. "Okay, yes, but that's not the-"

"He's right, Bokuto," Oikawa put in. "Your hey hey hey s are going to be on every TV in the world someday."

"And the sounds of your spikes slamming into gym floors," Daichi added, not to be outdone.

Ushijima nodded, squeezing Bokuto's hand. "The biggest courts in the world are waiting for us."

Bokuto looked at each of his friends in turn - and then a look of wonder came across his face, as though he'd never quite realized how wide his heart stretched.

"I'm gonna be famous," he whispered. He stepped forward to the window and pressed his forehead against the glass, an exhilarated grin spreading across his face. "Famous , guys."

Daichi joined him, grinning. "We're all gonna be famous."

"Famous and smoking hot," Kuroo said, stepping up next to Daichi.

"Famous and unconquerable," Ushijima added, standing forward on Bokuto's other side.

Oikawa completed the row. "They'll want to bow at our feet," he proclaimed, throwing his arms out to either side with wicked delight.

Everyone else cast a sidelong glance at him.

Oikawa dropped his arms. "Too much?"

"Too much," Daichi confirmed.

Oikawa leaned forward, pressed his face against the glass, and closed his eyes.

"They'll never see us coming," he whispered.

The five captains stood poised on top of Tokyo - the top of the world - and staring down upon the cars and the trains and the people and the city, all thrumming beneath them like a sleeping dragon almost ready to wake up. A few seconds, minutes, hours passed in silence too big for words, with the conversations of the other tourists fading into a dull roar in the background.

Finally, Bokuto's stomach broke the spell, with a loud, demanding growl.

"Guys," he said, plaintively. Slowly, they stirred and came back to earth, shaking the haze from their minds.

Daichi was the first to step back from the window, turning to his friends. "Time to eat?" he asked.

They all nodded, vehemently.

The booth was definitely too small.

Kuroo, Bokuto, and Oikawa were all crammed onto one side, Daichi and Ushijima on the other. Oikawa was smushed between Kuroo and the corner of the booth, and the two had been engaged in a quiet but vicious elbowing war since the moment they sat down. Legs battled for space beneath the table, arms nearly toppled water glasses every five seconds above it. Their waitress had stopped by three times now to ask if they weren't sure they wanted to switch to a bigger table, but they kept insisting they were fine. By the time Bokuto knocked the bottle of soy sauce onto the clean white tablecloth, she just sighed and silently added five dollars to their bill.

And, as though the crowding wasn't enough, the captains were also the loudest party in the restaurant by far. They shouted, they bickered, and, at one point, they even cheered. Nobody else around them particularly wanted to know why.

After allowing them several minutes to look through the menus (with the exception of Daichi, they didn't), the waitress approached again, pulling a pencil and pad out of her apron and eyeing the table of noisy teenage boys with trepidation. "So, what would you all like?" she asked, raising her voice a little to be heard.

"Guys," Daichi said. "Guys!"

"Dude, can't you see we're in the middle of a critical arm-wrestling match right now?" Bokuto asked. Ushijima nodded, not looking up from where he and Bokuto were straining at each other's forearms.

Meanwhile, in their corner, Oikawa and Kuroo had forgotten their elbow war and were intently coloring, sharing a kids' menu that someone had left on their table. "You can't do that, clouds are supposed to be left white ," Oikawa insisted.

"What if I want the clouds to be red?" Kuroo replied.

"Why would you want the clouds to be red ?"

Daichi looked at the waitress.

She shrugged. "I can come back later, if you want."

"I don't really think that'll make much of a difference," Daichi replied. "Here, let me just ..." He picked up a menu, examined it for a moment, then said, "We'll take three orders of dumplings, one tuna roll, one california roll, a bowl of edamame, and five bowls of ramen - one chicken, two pork, one beef, and one shrimp. Oh, and wonton soup for everyone."

The waitress scrawled everything down, then nodded. "It'll be about twenty minutes."

"Okay. Thank you." With deftness that only a man trained in receives could possess, Daichi wound his way in between the various forms of chaos around him, collected every menu on the table, and handed them to the waitress.

She headed back to the kitchen, and Daichi turned back to the table to find the other four captains staring at him. "What?"

"Did you just... order for us?" Oikawa asked slowly.

"You weren't going to do it," Daichi replied. He leaned back in the booth and pulled out his phone - there were texts from Suga to answer.

"Alright, we need to leave a big tip," Daichi announced.

Empty dishes littered the table, rice bowls stacked inside of ramen bowls stacked on top of sushi plates. They had once contained food, it was certain, but where all of that food had gone, it was difficult to say. Maybe the five boys sitting around the table had performed a vanishing act. Maybe they had expanding stomachs that allowed them to only eat once every five years.

Maybe they were just incredibly hungry.

No, too implausible.

"A big tip?" Oikawa repeated.

Daichi nodded. "A big tip. Actually, not just a big tip - an enormous tip."

"As big as my biceps?" Bokuto asked.

Daichi donned his best competitive grimace. "Bigger."

"But why?" Kuroo wanted to know. "Have we been rude customers?"

Stormclouds descended upon the restaurant booth. Thunder rolled in. Lightning began to crackle.

Or, wait - that was all just Daichi's face.

Oikawa shrieked. Bokuto yelled. Kuroo tried to push back his chair, then remembered he was in a booth seat, and settled for slipping down in the seat until only the top of his head was visible above the table.

"We're going to leave an enormous tip," Daichi repeated.

"Daichi, is this what the underclassmen at Karasuno call your scary captain mode?" Ushijima asked, barely looking up from his phone.

"Yeah," Daichi said, surprised enough to snap out of his terrifying demeanor, if only for a moment. "How do you know about that?"

Ushijima shrugged. "I know about a lot of things."

"I can't argue with that." Daichi started to reach for his wallet, then caught sight of Kuroo, Bokuto, and Oikawa trying to slink away through the back of the restaurant. "Hey! Assholes! Get back here!" he shouted.

"Make us!" Oikawa retorted. Bokuto stuck out his tongue.

Daichi glared at them, then held up his hand, fingers splayed out. "I'm going to count backwards from five," he said. "And when I get to one, I need you three to be back here, with your wallets out, prepared to contribute at least fifteen hundred yen to this tip. Five. Four. Three. ..."

The tip they eventually left was about seventy percent of the total bill. All of the restaurant employees involved agreed that that was about fair.

And, a few minutes (and several bathroom trips) later, the captains emerged into the long sunrays of late afternoon, food settling pleasantly in their stomachs and wallets considerably lighter than they'd been that morning.

"So, where to now?" Oikawa asked.

Everyone looked at Kuroo.

"Why does everyone assume I know what's going on?" he asked. "I'm not a walking map, I'm just a guy with some knowledge of Tokyo. And art history."

Everyone continued looking at Kuroo.

"...Actually, there is a cool memorial not far from here," he admitted. "With a little park. There might be...more dogs there."

Bokuto grinned and thumped his friend on the back. "Knew we could count on you, bro."

"Lead on," said Oikawa breezily, and he did.

"What is this building?" Daichi asked.

"Dunno, but it looks cool as fuck," Bokuto answered.

"He wasn't asking you," Ushijima said.

The captains stood at the start of a concrete walkway, leading to the front of a building that looked like someone had taken a Buddhist temple, stretched it out, and added stupas to the top. It had multiple roofs colored light green, the first extending low and curved at the ends like a mustache, and the second two more pointed, built on top of each other. The entrance was flanked by rectangular columns and guarded by small statues. And behind the building, a grove of cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, branches reaching out and up.

"Oh, this is so cool," Kuroo said. "I haven't been here in ages - not since before I'd learned about it." He started striding forward towards the entrance, an excited spring in his step. Bokuto and Oikawa followed at a slower pace.

Ushijima tilted his head, examining the building. "It looks a bit like a face," he observed.

"I don't see it," Daichi said.

"Look." Ushijima pointed. "There are the eyes, and that's a nose, and that's a really big mustache."

Daichi tilted his head down, then back up again. "I kind-of see it. It looks very cross."

"Guys!" Kuroo shouted, from the bottom of the stairs leading up to the entrance. "Come on!"

Daichi and Ushijima spent a few seconds glowering back at the building's stern face, then hurried over.

"This, " Kuroo said, spreading his arms out wide, "is the Kanto Earthquake Memorial. You know what the Kanto Earthquake was, right?"

"Massive earthquake in Tokyo in the twenties, started huge fires, millions of people died," Oikawa recited. "Everyone knows about it."

Kuroo nodded. "Just thought I'd make sure."

"Are you calling us uneducated?" Daichi demanded.

"Maybe." Kuroo shrugged, then went on. "This is, obviously, a memorial to that earthquake. It's built on the site of this old storage depot, where a whole fuckton of people went, thinking they'd be safe from the fires - but they weren't. This memorial in honor of them was built by Ito Chuta, a really cool architect from that time. He had studied east Asian architecture - Japanese, Chinese, Indian, all that stuff - and he made this building not a replica, but, like, an imitation of Buddhist shrines in Japan - those roofs, and there's a pagoda back there. This building is built in reinforced concrete, though, not wood like the shrines were. Concrete because it had to be earthquake-resistant. Like, can you imagine if a memorial to the victims of one earthquake was taken down by the next one? Not good for press. What's really cool - or, at least, what I think is really cool - is that the plan for this building is also based on a Gothic cathedral-"

Kuroo looked up to gesticulate and realized abruptly that his audience had departed. He turned around and just managed to catch a glimpse of Ushijima disappearing inside the memorial.

"Nobody appreciates a liberal arts education these days," he muttered, and then jumped up the steps and headed inside.

The inside of the memorial was drastically different from the outside, with thicker, rounder columns, a tiled floor, and lighting that looked like it belonged in an industrial revolution-era European town. But none of the other captains were paying much attention - they were all clustered around a pamphlet that Daichi had procured from a tour guide.

"So, I think we can go to the museum, or we can walk around outside," he was saying.

Oikawa looked up, noticed Kuroo, and beckoned him over. "Hey! You were wrong! It says here that this is a memorial to the victims of the World War II bombings!"

Kuroo frowned. "It can be a memorial to multiple things."

Oikawa shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. Come over here and help us decide what to do."

"We could probably go to the museum, then walk around after it gets boring," Bokuto suggested.

"Museums are informative, not boring," Ushijima said.

"They're informative and also boring," Bokuto corrected.

Ushijima considered that, then nodded. "Okay. Museum, then outside."

"Fine with me, as long as we see some dogs at some point," Daichi agreed.

"Guys, this is such a cool building, " Kuroo practically wailed.

Daichi stared at him. "But have you considered ... dogs."

Kuroo restrained the urge to bang his head against a pillar.

"Wait. Kuroo." Oikawa stopped on his way out of the room so abruptly, Bokuto bumped into him.

"Yeah?"

"What is ... that ?"

"What is what?"

Oikawa pointed.

Kuroo squinted in the direction of his finger - there was something above the entrance they'd come in from. Some kind of small light, only it wasn't just a light. It was a light held in the mouth of some kind of stone ... creature.

"That looks like a tiny animal," Bokuto said. "Like an owl. Do you think it's an owl?"

"It's definitely not an owl," Daichi replied. "I wish we still had those binoculars."

Ushijima held up his phone, took a picture of the animal in question, then zoomed in. The others waited with bated breath as he examined his handiwork.

"It's an aardvark," he finally announced.

"A what? " four voices asked at once.

"An aardvark. It's a mammal. I think it lives in Africa. We learned about it in my history class once. I don't remember why."

Oikawa looked at Kuroo. "So, architecture expert, what the fuck is an aardvark doing in this memorial to the victims of the Great Kanto Earthquake?"

"Well, I think that ..." Kuroo started. Everyone looked at him. "I think. Um. I think." He ran his hands through his hair, subsequently making his bedhead even worse than it had been before. "I have no fucking clue."

"Yeah!" Bokuto cheered.

"Let's just ... Go to the museum," Daichi said.

The museum was not as boring as they'd feared, but it wasn't exactly entertaining, either.

Somehow, the captains had failed to realize that memorial for the victims of the Great Kanto Earthquake and the Tokyo air raids really meant, memorial for thousands of people who died in horrible, tragic ways. They stepped back outside into the dwindling sunlight part horrified, part sad, and part ready to hit something.

And, in Bokuto's case, ready to do something about it. With no warning, he shouted, "Hey, guys, watch this!"

Bokuto sprinted down a stone pathway a short ways, screeched to a halt at an expanse of grass, then toppled over onto his back.

Kuroo jogged up next to him. "Bro, you okay?"

Bokuto grinned up at his friend. "I'm good. Just, y'know. Lying on the ground. Sticking my leg up in the air."

"You aren't sticking your leg up in the air," Kuroo told him.

Bokuto promptly stuck his leg up in the air. "I am now. "

Kuroo looked at him for a moment, then lay down and did the same.

"Yes!" Bokuto hooted. "It's finally taking off! Sticking your leg up in the air is the new orange!"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it goes," Oikawa said. But he, too, lay down and stuck his leg up as far as it would go - skinny jeans were not exactly conducive to stretching.

"Daichi, join us!" Bokuto exclaimed, pointing his leg in the captain in question's direction. "You have the best legs for up-sticking!"

"You've told me that before," Daichi said.

"That means I'm right! Come on!"

Daichi looked around, as though reminding himself that he was in a public place, where strangers might see him and regard him as a bad example for their children - but then, he also reminded himself that he would likely never see any of those strangers again.

"Alright." He lay down, then raised both of his legs, looking up at the muscle shifting smoothly under his skin.

"Show-off," Oikawa said. Daichi just raised his legs higher.

Ushijima pulled out his phone, swiped the screen a few times, then quietly joined the party.

"This is pretty satisfying," Daichi admitted, and they lapsed into silence, enjoying the sensation.

The legs rejoiced in the joys of air and wind and freedom for a minute or so, but, one by one, they were all lowered as their muscles gave out. Daichi's legs lasted the longest, yet even the thighs strong enough to carry Karasuno to victory were not invincible.

"Don't tell Hinata that I had to put my legs down," Daichi told Bokuto.

Bokuto laughed. "Whatever you say."

"Satori and I used to do this," Ushijima said suddenly.

"Do what? Stick your legs up in the air?" Bokuto asked.

"Yes," Ushijima replied. "Not quite like this, but something like this. After practice, sometimes. Or when we went on long runs together. We'd lie down on our backs and stretch. And talk, sometimes."

"How are you and Satori?" Daichi asked. "You don't talk about him much."

Ushijima shrugged, the grass scratchy against his back. "We hang out. We talk. Sometimes we have sex. It's good."

"That does sound pretty ideal," Bokuto agreed. "But you aren't ... going to the same university, are you?"

There was a pause, then Ushijima said, "We aren't. He's going to a school in Hokkaido. Studying journalism. He says he'll cover all my games."

"Oh, man, he'd be so good at that!" Bokuto exclaimed. "His commentary is hilarious."

"It is. But I think I will miss him."

"You think so?" Daichi asked carefully.

Ushijima lifted his leg up half a meter or so, then placed it slowly back onto the ground. "I think so. I will miss talking to him. There's the phone, and Skype, and Snapchat, but it isn't really the same."

"Wait, hold up." Oikawa sat up, then stared at Ushijima. "Snapchat?"

"Yes?" Ushijima said. "Is it strange that I use it?"

"A little unexpected, maybe," Kuroo said.

"I do only have one contact."

"Who, Tendou?" Bokuto wondered.

"Yes. We have - what it's it called - a streak? A two hundred and thirty-eight-day streak."

Oikawa's eyes went wide as lightbulbs. "Wait ... this whole day ... when you took out your phone ... were you snapchatting Tendou? "

"Yes," Ushijima replied. "I also saved the pictures and videos. For posterity, as Bokuto says."

Daichi leapt to his feet and took off at a dead run down the path.

"Was it something I said?" Ushijima asked, confused.

"DOG!" Daichi shouted over his shoulder. "It's getting away, though!"

Bokuto gasped audibly, then jumped directly from a standstill into a sprint. "OH MY GOD WHERE."

"I would also like to know where," Ushijima said. He got up and followed at a jog, holding up his phone to snapchat the two runners ahead of him.

Oikawa looked at Kuroo. Kuroo looked at Oikawa. Oikawa shrugged, as though to say, do we really have any choice?

The two of them got up as well, walking down the path after their friends.

7:19 P.M.

ur favorite lolcat would like to add you as a contact.

You and ur favorite lolcat are now connected on skype!

ur favorite lolcat: SUGA
pour some suga on me: kuroo?

ur favorite lolcat sent a video

ur favorite lolcat: LOOK AT YOUR BF
ur favorite lolcat: HES SUCH A NERD
pour some suga on me: kuroo that's a dog D:
ur favorite lolcat: DAICHI IS FLIPPING HIS SHIT OVER THE DOG -bokuto
ur favorite lolcat: ITS ME BECAUSE KUROO IS NOW ALSO FLIPPING HIS SHIT OVER THE DOG -bokuto
ur favorite lolcat: OK POPCORN OIKAWA I WANNA GO PET THE DOG TOO
ur favorite lolcat: hellooooooo, refreshing-kun
pour some suga on me: ah...oikawa...
ur favorite lolcat: did you know that daichi's skype name is Mr. Sugawara Daichi
pour some suga on me: WH
pour some suga on me: I
pour some suga on me: I HAVE TO GO
ur favorite lolcat: hehehe

7:24 P.M.

ur favorite lolcat renamed this chat to "#savesugawarakoushi2k16."

The dog was a beautiful, silky spaniel, with white and chocolate-brown fur, and big brown eyes that looked like all they had ever done was love. Unfortunately, as the group had soon discovered, the looks were where it stopped. The animal was irritable and standoffish, and although the spiky-haired girl attached to its leash had given them permission to pet him, Mitsui-chan was having none of it. However, Daichi was a man on a mission, and he had quickly determined that the dog calmed down and was even friendly when he was picked up.

"He likes being held," explained the girl. "Cause he's lazy, and when people hold him he doesn't have to walk places."

"He's so smooth," Daichi observed in awe, nuzzling Mitsui's head and missing Kuroo quietly taking a video and the subsequent mild chaos over his phone. Ushijima joined him in stroking the dog's long, soft ears, and then Kuroo, and then Bokuto as Oikawa hung back on Kuroo's phone. Mitsui basked in the attention, resting his chin on Daichi's shoulder.

"He's a little shit," said the girl cheerfully. "Wouldn't trade him for the world."

"Oikawa, come pet this dog," Kuroo called over his shoulder. Oikawa came over and put Kuroo's phone into its owner's back pocket, earning himself an eyebrow wiggle at the touch, but he hung back from the dog.

"I'll keep my hands clean of whatever it's been rolling in, thanks."

"Nonsense," Daichi said indignantly. "Look how clean he is. You're a good dog, Mitsui," he added to the dog in his arms.

But Oikawa wouldn't be convinced, and soon enough Mitsui's owner was fidgeting to leave. Daichi carefully placed the dog down on the ground and thanked the girl, and then rallied his troops to depart. As they made their way back down the path towards their mopeds, Daichi let out a huge, happy sigh.

"Having a good time, Daichi?" Kuroo asked, amused.

"There have just been so many good dogs," Daichi explained, sounding overwhelmed. Absently, he pulled out his phone to check the notification for the group chat that had come in midway through the dog holding, and then frowned at the screen.

"Save Sugawara Koushi two-kay-sixteen? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing," Oikawa reassured him.

As they pushed open the door of the ice cream shop, Bokuto and Oikawa were arguing.

"Bro, it's never not the weather for ice cream!"

"No, what about when it's cold and you try to take it outside and your hands freeze?" Oikawa countered.

"If you let that stop you from eating ice cream, you aren't worthy of the ice cream in the first place," Bokuto insisted. Kuroo and Daichi exchanged a look, silently agreeing to let the pair argue it out.

"What if your fingers are too stiff to eat more ice cream?"

"Okay, you have a point there," Bokuto admitted as they walked up to the counter. "But can't you just stay inside?"

"But we are going to be going outside with these! We don't have time to stay here, remember? And it's already after dark!" Oikawa stepped up to order first. "Um, medium cone of vanilla soft serve. Thanks."

"Soft serve , huh?" Kuroo asked, looking incredibly pleased with himself for the pun.

Oikawa scowled at him. "Shut it."

"No, no, it suits you," interjected Ushijima. Kuroo barked a laugh at Oikawa's indignant expression, and held up his hand to Ushijima for a high five. Ushijima looked at it for a moment, then patted it gently.

Daichi asked for a medium cone of mint chocolate chip - "I find it refreshing," he explained, and Oikawa rolled his eyes loudly - and Bokuto ambitiously ordered the largest thing on the menu, a massive sundae intended for four to share.

"Are you sure you can finish that?" Daichi asked him, concerned, as Kuroo ordered a strawberry milkshake. "Your eyes might be bigger than your stomach, you know."

"Physiologically improbable," said Ushijima over his shoulder. "Large coffee waffle cone, please."

"You underestimate my stomach, Daichi," Bokuto said with a confident grin. "Have faith."

Roughly ten minutes later, Bokuto was groaning and prone on the sidewalk, with two-thirds of the sundae roiling in his stomach and the other third melting in the dish next to him. Kuroo sat next to him, sympathetically patting his back. "It's okay, bro. You fought valiantly."

"This is karma," Oikawa said. "Cause you tried to eat it outside in the cold."

"Oikawa, don't be mean," Kuroo rebuked him, and in the same breath offered, with a shit-eating grin, "Bro, want some of my milkshake?"

Bokuto gave him a look like a dog with a glob of peanut butter stuck to the roof of its mouth. "Not right now, bro."

They were interrupted by a loud "FUCK!" from Daichi's direction, and looked up in surprise to see the cone of mint chocolate chip smeared across his jeans.

"Daichi, did you just spill that?" Kuroo asked.

"Wow, Dad, that's pretty irresponsible," Oikawa put in, and Daichi flushed.

"I was surprised, okay! There was a- Kuroo, are you taking a picture of me?! "

7:39 P.M.

ur favorite lolcat: sawamura daichi spilling ice cream on himself documented for posterity

ur favorite lolcat sent a picture

HOOT HOOT: BRO
Mr. Sugawara Daichi: I'M GOING TO KILL YOU.
Mr. Sugawara Daichi: After I pet that dog.

Oikawa, opening the message with his non-sticky hand as he licked at the last of his cone, looked up in confusion. "A dog?"

But Daichi was already gone. Oikawa looked ahead, following his gaze, then stiffened at the sight of the animal and hurried after him. Bokuto, Kuroo, and Ushijima followed behind. "Daichi, that is a pitbull . Daichi - hey, wait-"

"May I say hi to your dog?" Daichi asked the owner, a tall woman in a tracksuit with an undercut. She looked surprised, but answered affirmatively.

"Daichi," Kuroo said uneasily as Daichi knelt down on the pavement in front of the muscular brown dog, "I know you love dogs, but this one might not be a good idea."

Daichi paused. "Why?"

"Uh, it's a pitbull? They're pretty aggressive, you know."

"I don't think so," he said softly. "I know she looks scary, but look at her eyes - see how warm and friendly they are? I think she's kind."

"Or maybe you're a hopeless romantic," suggested Oikawa.

"Come on, give her a chance," Daichi urged him, and slowly extended his left hand to the pitbull.

She bent her powerful neck, examining it with intelligent eyes, then gently pushed her muzzle into his palm and whuffed against his hand.

"Ohhhh," whispered Daichi. He scratched the dog's ears, and her brown eyes squeezed shut with delight. She pushed her head up into Daichi's hands, and he scratched harder, mumbling indistinct words to her.

"I can't believe this," Oikawa said to Kuroo, who nodded in agreement.

Bokuto was watching the scene unfold with interest. "She really is friendly, isn't she?"

The woman holding the leash laughed a little. "Most people are scared of her, but she's just a happy bean."

"What's her name?" Bokuto asked, moving to kneel down on the pavement and start patting the dog's side.

"Sunny," the woman answered.

"Sunny," Bokuto repeated, and scratched the pitbull's back vigorously. Sunny's tail started thumping against the pavement.

Ushijima joined him, moving surprisingly quietly for his large size, and started petting her other side.

"You are a sausage with legs," Ushijima told Sunny gravely. Her tail thumped harder. "Your legs are also sausages."

"You're right, bro!" Bokuto said, delighted.

Oikawa and Kuroo, the only two still hanging back, looked at their three happy friends clustered around the equally happy pitbull, then at each other.

"I guess it is kind of cute," Oikawa finally allowed, grudgingly.

"Bro, this is fucking adorable ," Kuroo corrected him. "Let's go."

"Okay, okay." The two of them approached the dog and the other captains, settling down around the only space left free, which was her rump.

"We have to take the butt?" Kuroo muttered as Sunny's tail thumped into his side. Nonetheless, he started petting her back with growing enthusiasm.

"Late to the party, bro."

Several minutes of petting and enthusing over Sunny later, the woman, who had been watching them with fondness, cleared her throat and informed them apologetically that she, in fact, had to get home to make dinner for her family. This was understandable, and after a heartfelt goodbye to Sunny and thanks to her owner, the five captains were left standing and stretching to crack their backs on the sidewalk, each one wearing some degree of a smile.

"She was a really good dog," Daichi said. "Maybe the best dog all day."

"Mmhmm," Ushijima agreed. The group started strolling back towards their mopeds, slow-moving but alert in the evening air.

"I wish she hadn't had to leave for dinner," Bokuto lamented. "She was so good."

"Is it really dinnertime already?" Oikawa asked. Bokuto held up his watch for Oikawa to look at. "Oh, shit , it's eight o'clock? That was quick."

"It's cause you're having fun, bro."

"True," Oikawa agreed, for once without any argument.

Kuroo frowned a little. "Daichi, what time did you say your train tickets home were for?"

"Uh, let me check." Daichi pulled out his wallet and squinted at the ticket. "Eight...fifteen."

There was a brief moment of deathly silence. Kuroo and Daichi stared at each other.

"Shit," said Daichi, and they bolted for the mopeds.

Daichi didn't complain about Kuroo's driving this time, and even Bokuto was reckless enough to run a few yellow lights. They parked outside of the train station at 8:10 - tore through the station - past restaurants and shops and chastising passerby - through people and around people and over people (at one point Bokuto leaped over a toddling girl, which was definitely ill-advised) - up stairs and down stairs and through hallways - pushing as fast as they possibly could like this was the volley of the last game of their lives - and arrived, wheezing, on the platform at 8:13.

The train was idling as a few last passengers took their seats, and Oikawa bolted for the door.

Or, at least, he attempted to bolt for the door, and made it about two steps before the arms deemed worthy of Frankencaptain wrapped around his waist.

"Not so fast," said Bokuto into his ear, happily ignoring Oikawa's struggling. "You're not leaving without a hug!"

"If you don't let go of me I might not be leaving at all- "

"Shhh," Bokuto told him. "C'mon, guys, get in on this," he added to the rest of the group. Kuroo was the first to join in, sandwiching Oikawa between himself and his best friend, then Ushijima, and then finally Daichi, wrapping his arms around the whole group and squeezing them all together. Oikawa squirmed for a moment before he accepted his fate and relaxed. Enveloped in the warm group hug of four good friends, it was impossible to be irritated for long.

"Don't cry again," said Kuroo from somewhere above Oikawa's head.

"I'm not crying -" Oikawa attempted to swat at Kuroo, but he was too close for it to be effective, and then the circle was loosening with laughter. It was contagious, and despite his best effort, Oikawa found giggles bubbling up inside his own chest.

The hug broke apart, gradually and happily and just in time for them to catch the train's last whistle that signalled the doors sliding shut.

Frantic curses bounced around the group, and Oikawa lunged for the closing door. His fingers brushed against the handle, but it was too late - the train was already moving, picking up speed until it disappeared into the tunnel and left the five boys standing on the platform.

"Fuck," said Kuroo, which summed it up pretty well.

"Let's go back to the ticket booth," said Daichi, already walking back down the platform. "We can probably get tickets for the next train."

The bored teenager in the ticket booth quashed that hope quickly.

"The Miyagi line only runs every two hours," she told them. "That was the last one for the night."

"The night? "

"It'll start again at eight fifteen tomorrow morning. Sorry," she added, seeing their looks of distress, "it isn't a very popular line."

Daichi thanked her politely, and then they moved slightly away, forming a loose circle in the middle of the train station. Oikawa was looking murderous, and Daichi seemed none too pleased either. For a moment, nobody said anything.

Kuroo finally broke the silence.

"So, uh," he said, "sleepover at my place?"

March 27, 2016
12:02 P.M.

ur favorite lolcat: hey so im guessing you guys are still on the train home
ur favorite lolcat: i looked at the pictures and my mom is a really bad photographer im sorry
ur favorite lolcat: theyre all hells of blurry
ur favorite lolcat: but this one candid came out ok

ur favorite lolcat sent a picture

"Hey, Oikawa - oh, he fell asleep? Ushijima, can you wake him up?"

"Okay." Ushijima gently shook Oikawa, whose head was resting on his shoulder again, although this time it was intentional.

Oikawa stirred, yawning and blinking sleep out of his eyes as he sat upright. "What happened?" he asked, voice fuzzy with sleep. "Are we home?"

Daichi held out his phone. "Kuroo sent the picture." Oikawa took the phone, tilting the screen slightly so Ushijima could see it too.

"Oh, that's cute," Oikawa said.

Ushijima made a noise of agreement. "Very cute."

"Do you think I should print a copy to keep in my wallet?" Daichi asked.

"That would be incredibly dadlike of you," said Ushijima.

"So...yes?"

"Definitely."

The picture showed the five captains, crowded between the sofa and low table in Kuroo's living room. Bokuto was standing in the center, beaming ear to ear, with his right arm tucked under Kuroo's shoulders and his left over Oikawa's. Kuroo was smirking across him at Oikawa, with his own right arm slung easily over Daichi's shoulders. Oikawa had made a peace sign with his left hand, but it dangled forgotten at his side as he pulled a grotesque face at Kuroo. On Kuroo's right, Daichi was leaning forward to chide them, his face half-fond, half-exasperated. On Oikawa's left, Ushijima's right arm had managed to reach across both Oikawa's and Bokuto's shoulders, his left hand was held up with a (more successful) peace sign, and he was smiling his warm smile, eyes shining with genuine happiness. And propped up against Kuroo's and Bokuto's legs, a handwritten cardboard sign read,

WELCOME LONG LIVE

NATIONAL HOT DAD CONFERENCE ALLIANCE

12:06 P.M.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI: Dont worry about it, Kuroo
Mr. Sugawara Daichi: Yeah.
Mr. Sugawara Daichi: This one is just fine.

The End