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you sighed in the back of the classroom countin down the minutes till you was finally free.

a sigh escaped your lips as you slumped over your desk picturing being legit anywhere else but here. looking around, you knew you wasn't the only one with that thought on your mind.

to your right side dozed tanaka ryuunosuke; the resident school delinquent. or so you've heard among the chatter of your peers.

you'd never get the chance to ask if the rumors were true, considering every moment you were with him he was always passed out on his desk. today was certainly no exception; he was slumped forward at his desk, textbook covering his shaved head.

it's a fucking miracle the teacher hasn't caught him yet.

his shoulders lifted and fell as he peacefully slept through the teachers lectures before the bell signaling the end of the day rang.

instantly he shot up, the whole class turning to stare at him upon hearing the commotion of his book and belongings falling to the ground.

his eyes were hazy as he gave a blank stare around the room. when he locked eyes with you, you noticed the markings on his face from the corners of his desk.

that's the sign of some good good sleep, you thought to yourself, not able to stop the chuckle that escaped your lips

"mister tanaka," the teacher called, as the rest of the students stood to gather their things, "it's nice of you to finally join us! i presume you've had a good nap?"

"..eh, what?"

"i can catch you up to speed when i see you after class today,"

it looked like his brain finally caught up to his ears as you watched his dazed expression switch to confused anger.

you tried to hide the snort you gave, but you were a second too late as his eyes met yours, brows furrowed.

shit

"yn!" a girl called, linking her arm in yours, "let's head to journalism together!"

thankful to have a reason to leave, you let her pull you along, your bag in tow.

hopefully he wasn't still staring.

you didn't need him coming for your ass.

school is over, but your activities ain't.

you try and make your way down the school halls with your notepad and pen in hand, but everyone and they mama was up in there.

as easy as it would be to leave that joint and call it a day, you had a duty.

ever since karasuno highs own boys volleyball team took on and beat shiratorizawa, you had noticed an upsurgence in school spirit. even the principal had a little pep in his step (which was surprising considering the rumor going around that some first years had like... stolen his lace front? or sum.. you didn't know)

naturally as a member of the journalism club, it was your job to find hard hitting stories. when you proposed the idea of interviewing the volleyball club, the president was absolutely estatic, so of course you couldn't give up now.

worming your way through the crowded halls, you finally make your way out the door to the boys volleyball gym. the sound of shoes squeaking and balls being hit crosscourt echoe even from outside the gym. practice must be in full gear.

you open the doors, cautious not to get hit 'side the head by any flyaways. not many eyes are on you as you creep through the doors, glancing around the room before your eyes are set on a pretty dark haired girl holding a clipboard, talking to someone who had to be the one running the joint. 

"hey," you walked over to the pair, "i'm part of the journalism club and was hoping i could interview some of the team for a story next month,"

the guy with the blonde hair that you assumed to be the coach grinned, "i think our boys would love that, kiyoko?"

"yes. they'd be more than excited," she brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"great! i think i'll start with asking you two some questions, since they've already started warm ups,"

you uncap your pen, ready to start the process but before you can even get a word out, a guy seemingly materializes out a thin air behind you.

"whose this guy?" he asks, dangerously low, arms crossed over his chest.

"yeah. and what does he want with our precious kiyoko?" another guy approaches, a cartoonishly evil look gracing his face.

unfortunately you were graced with the pleasure of recognizing that buzz cut/mean mug combo. he balls your shirt collar up in his fist pointing an accusatory finger at you

"you!" he glares; by the looks of it he recognized you too.

"look, i ain't tryna start nothin,"

"likely story punk," he practically spits, interrupting you.

"yeah, likely story!"

in the background you can hear one of the third years on the team tryna get buzzcut and his lackey off a you, but they don't listen instead choosing to continue their stupid ass intimidation tactics.

"nishinoya, tanaka, stop it. he's here to interview us for the paper,"

you turn to glance at kiyoko, her face expressionless as the words leave her lips. hearing her, tanaka finally releases his grip on your shirt.

the sound of squeaking on the gym floor has stopped as you look around to see all eyes on this violent display.

the two blink at each other before their anger melts into a cocky grin

"well, if it'll only take a moment," tanaka poses, his words smooth as you try and place where the fucking hell the glitter is being dropped from.

"i'm sure we have time for an interview,"

the two seem perfectly in sync as any trace of an evil grin turns into a dreamy stare, posing like they some a-list models.

the switch up is phenomenal

it makes you sick.

"what makes you think i'm interviewing you?" their faces immediately drop as you straighten out the wrinkles in your shirt, pulling them out their lil fantasy, "first you go on threatenin me after i tried to explain, now you want your face in the paper?"

you give a hum of disapproval as they don't respond, instead their bodies rapidly decomposing on the spot.

"nice going, geniuses," you can hear one of the club members snickering in the background.

you turn to the door, feeling like you've overstayed before someone calls for you.

"wait," you recognize the guy who tried to stop buzzcut and shortstack earlier rushing to meet you at the exit, "i'm the captain, and they're my responsibility, i'm so sorry,"

"you got nothing to apologize for," you assure him, eyes narrowing as you meet tanaka's wide ones. you stick your tongue out at him, his dazed facial expression immediately switching to anger as he flips you off as you exit the club room, and make your way back to the journalism club.

looks like you wouldn't have a groundbreaking article to turn in to the prez, but you could confirm one thing;

tanaka ryuunosuke is a fucking menace.

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