Work Text:
Japan, February 2012:
“You shouldn't stay awake before we leave for a tournament,” Wakatoshi says in his usual deadpan tones in response to Satori's drawn out yawn. They're currently lining up to board Shiratorizawa's bus to go to Tokyo, and almost everyone is zombie walking in some way or another, since they're up at 5 am.
Or, in Satori's case, without sleep since 8 am the previous day.
Satori shrugs, adjusting the left strap of his backpack. “When the inspiration hits, it hits, Wakatoshi-kun,” he explains before yawning again. “I found some new, exotic tropical fruits from Brazil and needed to figure out how to best blend them with cocoa.”
Wakatoshi frowns, but doesn't press further. Satori is sure the other knows by now not to argue. He was probably just reprimanding him as his captain duties call, and Satori smiles at what a good boy his best friend is.
As usual, Satori doesn't sleep on the bus, opting to watch the landscape pass by instead. He thinks of the chocolates in his carry-on pouch, mentally ranking the fillings and frostings by how well they complemented each other and the base chocolate.
Getting the chocolates from concept to actual treats is just the first half of the process, though.
There’s only so much his taste buds can take before the exotic flavors become commonplace. He needs an outsider’s perspective on them for the final say.
Sadly, due to that one mishap with cayenne pepper once, no one in his club will agree to taste test his creations anymore, which is why he’s had to retort to taking his chocolates with him for competitions.
He loudly snorts, and Semi shushes him from the row behind.
Tokyo always feels new and exciting, no matter how many times he comes here with his team.
He takes his time reading the draw, trying to find some old and known names - Mujinazaga and Fukuroudani are on the other half this time - and some new and interesting names.
Inarizaki. Kamomedai. Itachiyama.
Satori grins at the board, already scheming in his mind.
He separates from the rest of the team to go watch those candidates. Most of his teammates groan, but Wakatoshi merely nods and gives him a deadline to be back at the hotel.
Inarizaki is currently playing on court B, so that’s where Satori goes.
He sits across the Hyogo’s team imposing crowd, and he thinks the player who gestures at them for silence is kind of cringe. Has a nasty serve though.
The said player has a twin brother, and the gray-haired teen immediately registers in Satori’s radar.
They argue a lot, and the entire team seems used to it. What impresses Satori the most is the guy’s guts to go with whatever his flashy setter of a brother comes up with, on the fly.
He notes that down as a quality he needs for chocolate trials, and as Inarizaki closes their first match on two straightforward 25-20 sets, Satori gets up to watch Itachiyama on court A.
Sakusa is on point as usual, with his freakishly flexible wrists that always amaze Satori. He isn’t allowed to use him as a lab rat, though, on Wakatoshi’s request, so he takes the opportunity to watch the rest of the roster.
Their libero seems interesting, he stands taller than most defenders Satori has had the pleasure of encountering, but that doesn’t diminish his skills. He wonders if he can get Wakatoshi to pry more information about him from Sakusa.
Their setter also seems intriguing at first, a captain like Aoba Johsai’s Oikawa, but upon further inspection Satori gets a weird feeling about his movement. He tsks. “He might get injured if he continues landing on his right foot like that.” He ponders out loud, and the person in the audience next to him gently pokes him on the shoulder.
“How do you know?” They ask, and Satori grins at them.
“I don’t, it’s just a guess,” he says with a shrug. “But I’m really good at guessing.”
If the guy is to get injured, it doesn’t happen during this match, and Satori bids goodbye to the fellow viewer he talked to as Itachiyama closes the match in straight sets.
He moves on to court D, where Kamomedai are about to play. Immediately during the warm up Satori’s eyes are drawn to one of the shortest players he’s seen around. He wears the same jersey number as Satori, and his aura is intense as the two teams play their little intimidation game before the match. He jumps higher than Satori remembers seeing recently, maybe Nakashima from Wakutani South comes close.
Still, there’s something about him that makes it impossible for Satori to focus on anyone else, even as the guy gets surrounded by teammates that tower above him.
Satori leaves the stands to watch the match from the ground, his view level with the court.
The short guy is even more impressive from up close.
Kamomedai win their match in two sets, and Satori tries to approach the white-haired player, but a reporter beats him to it.
Satori is about to walk away when he hears the guy shouting.
“Being small in volleyball may well be a disadvantage, but it does not automatically imply incompetence or ineptitude!”
Satori grins at the guy’s temper. He wonders if he should go stoke the flames.
There’s a tall guy from Kamomedai trying to appease his teammate, but white-haired guy isn’t having it, continuing to lash at the reporter for daring to ask him something about his height, Satori guesses.
Eventually the tall teammate gets the short ace under control, and Satori walks back to his hotel with a plan in mind.
“You’re late,” Wakatoshi points out when Satori arrives.
He waves his hand dismissively. “I did all the scouting I needed to do, so I’m ready to focus on our practice and matches,” he explains, and Wakatoshi nods.
The next day, Shiratorizawa plays a school from Hiroshima that Satori immediately forgets the name, and Kamomedai beats their respective opponent, meaning they’ll face each other in the morning of the third day of competition.
Satori learns that the interesting guy’s name is Hoshiumi Korai.
When the two #5 players meet at the net before the match, Satori sets his plan into motion. “I saw you give an interview the other day,” he starts, and his grin widens as Hoshiumi’s eyes widen. “Your temper is as short as you are.”
Hoshiumi’s teammates have to drag him back to the edge of the court as he screams at Satori, who cackles excitedly about the situation.
When the game gets going, Hoshiumi becomes serious, and he actually manages to avoid Satori’s blocks more than he’d like to admit.
Still, Shiratorizawa wins the match two sets to one, and he retrieves one of the chocolate packs in his bag to hand to Hoshiumi.
“Keep up the good work, Hoshiumi-kun,” he says as he places the chocolates in Hoshiumi’s hands during the handshake.
“Him?” Semi asks as they walk off the court, and Satori shrugs. “I’m sure I’ll hear back from him about my work and that’s all I need.”
Except Satori never does, because Kamomedai returns to Nagano that very same day.
He pretends not to be hurt as they struggle against Inarizaki the following round, and withstands Washijo’s scolding in silence when they lose to Itachiyama in the semifinals.
He gives some of the blander chocolates to Osamu and Motori, and politely thanks them as they greatly compliment his handiwork, but his mind stays on Hoshiumi for days.
Eventually they get back to Miyagi, and there’s another year of school and season of volleyball to prepare for, and the routine eases Satori’s pain.
He’s mostly forgotten about it all when he graduates and quits volleyball for good, but white ingredients and tropical fruit leave a twinge in his heart even as he focuses on his chocolate making career.
Paris, February 2019:
Satori gives his store a final comprehensive dusting before unlocking the front door and flipping the sign from ‘closed’ to ‘open’.
He’s been adapting well to Paris, and with Valentine’s Day quickly approaching, he’s bound to get an even bigger influx of customers.
And today is even more special because his best friend Wakatoshi is coming to visit. And, what’s even more novel and special, his best friend has a surprise for him. Satori can barely contain his excitement. He can’t help but give a little twirl.
When Wakatoshi arrives, Hoshiumi of all people is right behind him, holding a bouquet of roses, and Satori lifts his eyebrows.
Little white bird boy has a lover in Paris? What a small world they live in.
He checks him out from head to toe, and hums in appreciation at how well Hoshiuimi has grown and bulked into his pro-athlete form.
“How can I help you, Hoshiumi-san?” Satori asks, leaning over the counter and gesturing towards his Valentine’s Day collection on one side of the coldframe. “Whatever your lover likes, I’ve got it.”
Hoshiumi and Wakatoshi trade enigmatic looks before Satori’s former teammate nods and leaves.
Satori raises an eyebrow but remains quiet, waiting for Hoshiumi to speak.
“Tendo-san, I-”
“Just Tendo, please,” Satori corrects him. It feels too weird being addressed respectfully in Japanese after months of being ‘ Monsieur Tendo ’.
Hoshiumi nods. “These are for you,” he says, as he extends the bouquet to Satori, his cheeks as red as Satori’s hair.
He gently accepts the offering, at a loss of words for once. The roses smell incredibly sweet.
When Satori takes too long to say anything, Hoshiumi speaks up. “I asked Ushijima where to find you, and he offered to bring me here. I hope that’s okay.”
His explanation shakes Satori out of his trance, and he looks around for a vase to put the flowers in. “Yes, it’s perfectly fine,” Satori explains, and holds back a snot at Hoshiumi’s barely concealed sigh of relief. “I am curious about why, though,” he says, leaning back against the counter. He beckons Hoshiumi closer with his index finger, and grins at how easily the other obeys.
“You gave me the best chocolate I have ever eaten in my life,” Hoshiumi confesses, and Satori’s mind blanks.
The hog plum chocolate he made all those years ago right before the nationals.
Satori’s jaw drops. “I-,” he starts and immediately stops, closing his mouth and not knowing what to say.
His flustering seems to embolden Hoshiumi, who grins. “You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
“It was, what, seven years ago?” Satori tries to sound nonchalant, and fails, judging by how Hoshiumi’s grin widens. “No,” he admits sheepishly. “But I thought you might have.”
Hoshiumi takes one of Satori's hands between his own. “The best Valentine’s chocolate I have ever received, even if you and your crowd had just beaten mine to the dirt.”
Satori smiles. “Now, who’s forgetting things? It was a close three set battle.”
Hoshiumi laughs and squeezes Satori’s hand. “Right, right, high school wasn’t best-of-five,” he concedes. “Still, I was super pissed as we rode the bus back to school.”
He looks down at Satori’s hand, his cheeks reddening again. “But the moment I ate one of them, I forgot about it all, the bitter taste of defeat.”
Satori hums and smiles. “And hog plum is pretty tart.”
Hoshiumi looks up and stares deep into Satori’s eyes, directly into his chocolatier soul. “Exactly the antidote that I needed.”
Satori’s heart does something akin to a somersault inside his chest, and he gulps.
“Will you go out with me?” Hoshiumi asks, and Satori grins.
“It would be my pleasure to show you around the city of love, Korai-kun.”