Curate, connect, and discover
hi! could i request a managerial duties fic with the fukurodani team?
Hello :D You can!
I wrote this in a silly goofy mood, if you can't tell lolol
Enjoy <33
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Being a manager for Fukurodani Academy’s boys’ volleyball team was a bit like being the conductor of an orchestra that had no intention of following the sheet music. Between Bokuto’s mood swings, Konoha’s snark, and the constant low hum of chaos that seemed to follow Komi like a shadow, your days were never dull.
But somehow, it worked.
Maybe it was Akaashi’s unshakeable calm, or Washio’s quiet reliability. Maybe it was the way Sarukui knew when to reel Bokuto back with just a look, or how the other two managers—Yukie and Kaori—had learned to tag-team any brewing disaster before it hit critical mass. The team was loud, ridiculous, occasionally impossible, and you wouldn’t trade them for anything.
You’d been with them long enough now that their habits were second nature. You knew who needed water before they asked, who always forgot their kneepads, who preferred warm-ups in silence and who needed to scream themselves into the zone. You’d taped ankles, refereed arguments, restocked first-aid kits, and once used a mop handle to redirect a rogue serve mid-flight.
So naturally, the one time you stepped out of the gym to speak with a teacher, chaos found its way in without you.
The package arrived during warmups. A small cardboard box, scuffed at the corners, with your name written neatly on the top in permanent marker. No return address. No label.
Kaori found it by the entrance and placed it on the bench, assuming you’d handle it when you got back.
But Bokuto saw it.
He was mid-warmup, mid-laugh even, when something square and cardboard caught his eye from across the gym. Like a hawk sighting prey, his eyes zeroed in and he made a beeline for the bench.
Before anyone could react, he was already crouching in front of the package, fingers hovering over the taped seam.
“Bokuto-san, don’t—”
Smack.
Kaori’s hand came down on his faster than lightning, swatting his fingers away just before he could peel back the flap.
Bokuto yelped, more offended at being stopped than anything else, still pointing dramatically at the box like it had personally challenged him to a duel. He cradled his hand with exaggerated care, rubbing it as if he'd just been grievously injured. "Oww, what was that for?" he whined, lower lip jutting out.
“It’s not yours,” Yukie said immediately, sliding in front of it like a bodyguard.
“Aw c'mon!” Bokuto cried, jogging over. “What if it’s important?! Or fragile?! Or snack-related?! I mean—it was sent to a manager, so it’s stuff for us, right?!”
“Then she’ll open it when she gets back,” Konoha muttered, clearly unimpressed.
“But what if she wants us to open it for her?”
“She doesn’t,” Kaori said flatly.
“You don’t know that!”
“You don’t know that she does,” Akaashi chimed in, walking past with a towel draped over his shoulders. “And opening someone else’s package is literally a crime.”
Bokuto paused, scandalized. “Wait. Really?”
“Federal offense,” Akaashi confirmed, not even stopping.
“Yeah, that’s like... a serious thing,” Sarukui added.
Komi nodded enthusiastically. “You could totally get arrested.”
“Or banned from deliveries for life,” Konoha threw in with a shrug.
“I think that’s made up,” Washio said, but no one contradicted him.
Bokuto groaned. “This system is broken.”
“I bet it’s mysterious,” Komi offered, grinning. “Like something cursed. Or magical. Or both.”
“It’s probably just more athletic tape,” Sarukui said.
“No, no, no,” Bokuto shook his head. “It could be owls.”
“Why would someone send owls to the school gym?” Washio asked.
“Why wouldn’t they?” Bokuto countered.
The entire team was crowded around the bench now, forming a semicircle of ridiculous anticipation. The box sat there, untouched, radiating unearned power.
Kaori had her arms crossed. “No one’s opening it.”
Yukie nodded. “Not unless you want to explain to Coach why you’re committing petty theft.”
“And a federal offense,” Akaashi added as he passed.
Yukie groaned. “Right. And a federal offense.”
Just then, the gym doors opened.
You stepped in, unaware of the tension until twelve pairs of eyes swiveled to you at once.
“What did I miss?” you asked slowly, eyebrows raised.
Everyone pointed.
“Box,” Bokuto said gravely.
“Highly suspicious,” Komi added.
Akaashi sighed. “Please tell them it’s not cursed.”
You blinked at the package. “Oh. That’s just the kneepads my uncle donated.”
Silence.
Bokuto looked devastated. “It’s what?”
“Kneepads.” You opened the box casually, pulling out a neat stack of new gear. “He runs a sports supply store. Said he had extras.”
“You’re telling me,” Bokuto said slowly, “I waited fifteen minutes to NOT see a magical owl?”
“Yes?” you replied, mildly confused.
“…I mean, that’s cool too, I guess,” he muttered, thinking about it for a second. Then, as if deciding he could live with the outcome, he gave a small nod, still pouting a little. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay with this.”
Washio nodded. “I like kneepads.”
You grinned. “Good. Because there’s enough for all of you.”
One by one, you handed the kneepads out, and the team eagerly grabbed their pairs, excitedly comparing colors and sizes before jogging off to try them on over their uniforms. Bokuto was already halfway across the gym, yelling something about testing them with a jump serve.
You turned to find Yukie and Kaori standing off to the side, arms crossed.
“So,” you said, raising an eyebrow, “they were debating what was in the box, and the majority vote was a magical owl?”
Kaori rubbed her face with both hands. “Don’t even ask.”