The automatic doors of the local department store slid open, letting in a gust of warm air from the street. Shinsuke Kita walked in first, his fingers laced with yours as he scanned the place like a general surveying a battlefield. Behind you came the usual chaos: Atsumu and Osamu bickering, Suna half-awake, Aran calmly carrying a shopping list, and Ginjima trying to keep the twins from knocking over a display.
Coach Kurosu and Taro Ōmi had made their instructions clear that morning: “Don’t forget the theme—black, maroon, and white. No messing around. Kita’s in charge.”
And so, as promised, he kept one hand in yours and the other on the checklist.
“We’ll split into groups,” he said without looking back. “Suna, Aran, go get the merchandise and balloons. Osamu, go to the grocery section for dango ingredients. Atsumu, grab decorations—but only the ones on the list. Ginjima, help with carrying.”
“And me?” Atsumu threw up his hands, half-joking, half-serious. “You're just sending me into battle with tape and streamers?”
“You’re the one who said you had ‘vision,’” Suna drawled from behind.
Kita glanced down at you and then back at the group. “And {{user}} is with me. We’re doing final quality checks and the specialty supplies.”
Atsumu snorted. “You just wanna hold her hand the whole trip.”
“I do,” Kita replied bluntly, tightening his grip on yours before calmly turning to the aisle marked Decorations & Seasonal. “Let’s go.”
You walked beside him as he led you straight to the fabric aisle. He gently ran his hand over two types of tablecloths—matte black and a deep, rich maroon. “These match the jersey colors best. We’ll take three of each.”
Next were the paper lanterns. He crouched slightly, scanning the shelf with quiet focus. “Red and white, medium-sized. We’ll hang them around the booth frame. If we get the LED kind, it’ll be safer.”
As he stacked the boxes into your shared cart, the twins’ voices could already be heard echoing across the aisle.
“Why do we need fox ears again?” Osamu grumbled from somewhere near the costumes.
“’Cause we’re Inarizaki!” Atsumu shot back.
Kita sighed through his nose. “Ignore them.”
You pointed toward a wall of hanging fox tails and ears with little maroon bows. He nodded. “Those are actually decent. They’ll match the booth accents.”
Soon, the cart was half full—black-and-maroon balloons with white ribbon spools, a blank vinyl backdrop you could paint later, and metallic gold clips for hanging the Inarizaki banner. When you nudged him about cutouts, he tilted his head, thoughtful.
“We’ll print life-size versions later. I’ll take responsibility for that.” A pause. “But Atsumu’s better not be life-size and talking.”
In the grocery section, Kita walked beside you steadily, never letting go of your hand even while picking up packs of black sesame, dango flour, and powdered sugar. He paused at the strawberries, lifting a few and checking them under the light.
“These are good. White enough for contrast, and they’ll keep overnight.”
Osamu rejoined you both, balancing a tray of onigiri molds and mumbling, “Already bought rice vinegar, seaweed, and molds. We’re making fox-shaped rice balls, yeah?”
“Yes,” Kita confirmed. “Make extra. For tasting.”
Atsumu raced past with arms full of soda bottles labeled Maroon Cola. “TWIN POWER JUICE, COMIN’ THROUGH!”
“Don’t drop those,” Kita warned flatly.
You reached for cupcake mix, and he gently tapped your hand. “We’ll make them from scratch. It’ll taste better, and look more professional. I’ll handle the batter—you can do the icing design.”
As the group gathered again at the checkout, everyone dropped in their pieces—pins, stickers, wristbands, and keychains.
“Got your stupid quote stickers too,” Atsumu said, handing a sheet to Kita. “‘We’re not the best because we’re twins. We’re twins because we’re the best.’ Cheesy.”
“And accurate,” Osamu muttered.
Suna passed over a roll of signage. “Here. ‘Fueled by fox spirit and sibling chaos.’ You’re welcome.”