Ryuunosuke Tanaka

Tanaka Ryuunosuke had survived high school.

Technically, that wasn't particularly impressive considering he'd spent three years playing volleyball, yelling at people, getting yelled at by Daichi, being yelled at by Tsukishima, and somehow making it through without being permanently banned from the Karasuno gym, but as far as Tanaka was concerned, graduating still counted as a monumental achievement. He had stood there in his graduation uniform, diploma in hand, surrounded by the same idiots he'd spent the best years of his life with, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there hadn't been another practice waiting for him the following afternoon.

Which was both exciting and deeply terrifying.

Now he was sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor with university pamphlets scattered around him, a half-finished bottle of water beside his knee and his phone in his hand, staring blankly at three different application forms as though one of them might spontaneously reveal what he was supposed to do with the rest of his life.

"Bro."

Nishinoya's voice came from somewhere behind him.

"Don't."

"I didn't even say anything yet."

"I know that voice."

Tanaka slowly turned his head.

Noya was standing in the doorway with the expression of a man who had just had what he considered to be the greatest idea in human history. That expression alone should have been enough warning.

"You're single."

"Yeah?"

"You're going to university."

"Yeah?"

"You're an adult now."

"Yeah."

Noya held up his phone.

"So."

Tanaka stared.

"...So?"

"Get Tinder."

There was a beat of silence.

Then Tanaka threw a cushion at his head.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

That should have been the end of it. It really should have. Except Noya had never been particularly good at accepting defeat, and somehow, after twenty minutes of arguing, several insults about Tanaka's complete lack of romantic experience and one extremely questionable claim that downloading a dating app was somehow "training for adulthood," Tanaka found himself staring at a profile creation screen.

"This is stupid."

"You said that five times."

"Because it's stupid!"

"Then why are you making an account?"

"...Because I'm proving you wrong."

"Sure."

Tanaka glared at him, then looked back down at the screen.

The profile was going terribly.

His first photograph had been rejected by Noya for making him look like he was about to sell someone a used car. The second was apparently "too intimidating." The third had been taken at the beach and Noya had called it "desperate." Eventually, after an argument that lasted long enough to become genuinely embarrassing, Tanaka settled on a photograph of himself grinning at the camera after a volleyball match, hair still damp with sweat, one hand raised in a victorious peace sign.

"That one."

Noya nodded solemnly.

"That's the one."

"I look good."

"You look like you."

"Which means I look good."

"Exactly."

The bio took even longer.

Tanaka typed, deleted, typed again, and finally settled on something short enough that Noya couldn't accuse him of writing an autobiography.

University soon. Volleyball. Ramen. Good food. Looking for someone fun.

He stared at it.

"...That's actually pretty good."

"Yeah."

"I sound mature."

"You sound like yourself."

"That's basically the same thing."

And then he did it.

He made the account.

For the first hour, absolutely nothing happened.

Tanaka pretended he didn't care.

He cared.

Then, later that evening, while he was sitting on his bed trying to decide whether his first university choice was actually worth the commute, his phone buzzed.

He glanced down.

One notification.

It's a match!

Tanaka froze.

"...Noya."

"WHAT?"

"I got one."

There was a brief, stunned silence from the other side of the room.

"NO WAY."

"I GOT ONE."

"LET ME SEE."

"GET AWAY FROM MY PHONE!"

Tanaka clutched it against his chest, staring at the screen with wide eyes as though the notification had personally informed him that he'd been selected for the national team.

There was a profile picture. A name. A short bio.

And somehow, after all the joking, all the arguing, all the nonsense, there was suddenly an actual person on the other side of this stupid little app who had looked at his profile and thought:

Yeah. Him.

His stomach did something deeply unpleasant.

"Okay."

Tanaka sat up straighter.

"Okay, okay. I can do this."

"You've played volleyball in front of hundreds of people."

"That's different!"

"How?"

"I KNOW HOW TO PLAY VOLLEYBALL!"

Noya snorted.

Tanaka ignored him, opening the message window.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard.

He typed.

Hey! I'm Tanaka. Nice to meet you!

Deleted.

Yo!

Deleted.

Hey, how's it going?

Deleted.

"Why is this harder than receiving a jump serve?!"

Noya was laughing now.

"Just say something normal!"

"I AM TRYING!"

Tanaka stared at the empty message box one last time, took a breath, and finally typed the first thing that felt like him.

Hey! I'm Ryuunosuke. I saw we matched, so I figured I should actually say hi 😅 What are you up to?

His thumb hovered over the send button.

For perhaps the first time in his life, Tanaka Ryuunosuke hesitated.

Then he pressed it.

Sent.

He stared at the screen.

"...Oh, man."