my first and last | t. kuroo, h. iwaizumi

enter clown, stage left: the circus awaits

the commute to work was horrible. i got stares and jeers from almost everyone on the bus. (but what did i expect, looking like a literal clown?) elderly women felt sorry for me while also actively avoiding me. a few people even pressed money into my palm, mumbling about how i should leave my current job to find something else. i didn't think i could be more embarrassed since the incidence of summer 2003 (where i slid across the concrete, eroding my clothes in front of the president of the united states)–but here i was. 

clowning. in public.

yamamoto, tanaka, and nishinoya were waiting for me in the lobby of the office building. at the sight of me, all three of them ceased their conversation. they stared at me in horror like i was the girl from the ring straight out of the television. the silence filled the room. i frowned severely, making myself look more like a clown.

noya was the first to react, moving to grip my wrist and pull me into a secluded corner behind the elevators. in the small alcove, i looked worse than if i was standing in broad daylight. the colors of my outfit and makeup were muted, looking as if i had been dragged through shrek's prestigious swamp.

"you cannot go in there looking like that," he stated matter-of-factly.

i knew that. of course i knew that. but i didn't have time to change. i didn't have time to redo my makeup. if i had stopped to think for even a second about what i was doing when i got ready, i would have been late to work–beyond fashionably late, too. and that wasn't the impression i wanted to give my new boss.

then again, was this really the impression i wanted to make?

"go wash your face. i'll go to the corner store and buy some makeup!" tanaka ordered as he bolted out the door.

i exhaled as i made my way into the bathroom. i washed my face and tried to fix my outfit to look as presentable as possible considering the Look: bright red pants, a colored polka dot blouse, and a green blazer.

* * * * * * * * * * *

when tanaka had returned, he stuck his arm into the bathroom door and handed me a bag of makeup. he proudly announced that he had no idea what he was buying, so he bought whatever the clerk at the store had recommended. the quality of it all was cheap, but it would at least get me through my first day.

when i emerged from the bathroom, hair now smoothed out with hairspray, i gave them a twirl. nishinoya's eyes lit up at the sight of me: human, no longer clown.

"(y/n)! you look a thousand times better!" he clapped as i blushed a little at the compliment.

yamamoto stepped forward, holding out his hand. i tilted my head in confusion: was he asking for money or my hand?

"jacket," he insisted, one hand shoved into his pants.

something i would never understand is why he always shoved his hands into his pants, even when they had pockets. wouldn't it be easier and more appropriate in public to have them in pockets? 

'whatever, must be a force of habit,' you concluded.

i shrugged off my blazer and handed it to him. he threw it over his arm, nodding in approval at the final updated Look. tanaka and nishinoya nodded with their own approval, giving two thumbs-up. i had their seal of approval. and with that, we headed back toward the elevators.

"i can't believe you still decided to take this job even after yamamoto told you that he's the literal worst," tanaka commented as he pressed the button for the fiftieth floor.

"i need the experience. my biology degree did a fat load of nothing for me." i leaned against the back of the elevator, closing my eyes and clutching my purse like a lifeline.

noya turned and shook his head at me. "we told you to study business instead."

"you could have been ushiwaka's trophy wife if you had worked harder for that," tanaka joked under his breath.

i gave him a small shove at the jab as the elevator dinged. i stepped off and was immediately hit with the scent of commoner's coffee and freshly printed paper. my starry-eyed gaze went wide at the sight of the copier machines along the back wall. nothing excited me more than office supplies and stationery.

and that's why this job was perfect for me.

* * * * * * * * * * *

i walked down a maze of corridors until i arrived at the large office at the back of the floor. it had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking tokyo. a man in a fitted black suit and fancy, shiny shoes stood staring out the window. he had one hand in his pocket, the other clutching a phone against his ear.

"maybe if you were smarter, we would've been fine!" you heard him yell faintly through the solid wooden door.

noting his sharp tone, i opted to wait outside. 'it would be rude to walk in on a phone call, especially one that felt and sounded important,' you reasoned like the chicken you were. i tapped my toes, leaning against the door thinking it was locked.

it wasn't.

i tripped into the room, purse flying toward the large desk and my body falling hard onto the floor as i let out a small yip. i gasped, hurriedly covering my mouth. sitting up, i crawled quickly toward my purse. 

'i can't let him know all my secrets like this! i haven't even introduced myself!' i thought, shoving the contents back into my bag: a couple of blunts, a spare pair of glasses, a switchblade, toothpaste, a box of condoms, and a book for leisure reading.

"i'm so sorry! i didn't realize that it was..." my voice trailed off as i looked up at the man extending his hand to me.

i took it and stood up, brushing nonexistent dirt off of my clothes. i flashed him the best smile i could give after everything that had transpired that morning.

"i'm (y/n), your new secretary."

"what an impression," he commented, smirking as he gestured to the desk in the corner of his massive office.

i hoped the seating arrangement wasn't permanent. i had noticed a near-empty desk outside the office, but maybe he had another secretary. he looked like the type of boss who needed multiple secretaries for his line of work.

i sat in the plush chair and watched as he resumed his phone call. fiddling with my fingers nervously, i glanced at him occasionally out of the corner of my eye. something seemed familiar about him: was it the bad hair? the tall, lean form? the bright golden eyes? the sinister, almost-perverted smile? in another universe, this was probably what my sleep paralysis demon looked like. but in this universe, he was my boss.

i was mentally flipping through flash cards of faces to determine where i had seen him before when i looked up at him again. our eyes met, a smirk on his attractive face. my eyes went wide, and i blushed as i looked away.

this was going to be interesting.