Chapter Text
"Hey VP!"
"Your grace..." you bowed your head with a stupid grin plastered on your face.
"I told you guys to stop that!" She shoves your shoulder. The new captain of the volleyball team—wahhh, you were so proud of her. Fumi Nagatomo was a tallish girl with a cute bob and a powerful spike. Did you mention she was a nerd for regulations and had a particular liking for the American food chain Burger Emperor?
"Another year at nationals!" One of the third years, Tora, yells out, thrusting her paper cup into the air.
"All thanks to that last call from Queen Fumi!" You yell, maybe louder than the casual restaurant goers prefer at 9 PM. Running over to the table, you swiftly place a paper crown on her head from your extra large meal.
"All hail!" The gaggle of girls yell out.
You flinch. "Ay, why are you so strong, woman?"
She chuckles, "I've been working out!" flexing her arms through her practice shirt. "I'm ready for our last year! I'm making this the best season, promise!" She held her pinky out to you, with a smile so bright your eyes winced a little, and she braced for that loud jump and yell you always gave her. Only you simply muster a nod at her.
"Ehh? What was that, huh? You're always so excited to start the season!"
"I dunno... Guess it's just taking me some time." You smile back at her, shrugging. The finality of it, seems so...
She chants, pulling at your cheeks. "CHEER UP CHEER UP CHEER UP."
"HEY!"
The two of you meander towards the gym, already hearing the familiar sounds of the loud second years and nets being set up. "Well look who's fashionably late? Our captains of all people."
"Hey, cut us some slack, will ya?"
"Everyone gather 'round!" The rest of the girls run up to your little group, huddling around.
"Let's start this season right!" Fumi yells, putting her hand in the middle, a circle of bracelets and watches gathered around. "On three, one, two, three!"
"NEKOMA!" Jolting up in celebration, fists thrust high. Your voice is drowned in the cheers, a strange grumbling coming from your throat when you put your fist high—maybe you just needed better sleep.
"OVER!"
"MINE!"
Your panting feels so much louder; you barely realize the second ball is coming straight towards you. "[NAME]!"
Shit, the ball comes dropping from the air, glazing over the bright lights. Your hands are ready, cupping toward the ceiling like a target. The ball slowly aligns into your palms, falling, and falling. Until the leather grazes against your fingertips—never going up, but crossing that invisible barrier above your chest onto the ground, ricocheting off your shoes.
You stare at their new shine, white with beige accents all around. They were cute, but when your mom dragged you shopping it was more of a chore. This year, the store no longer held that yearly holiday sensation you would get.
When did it begin to feel so tiring?
"[Name], what's up with you today? A bit rusty, haha?" Brushing past you, one of your second years lightly chuckles, still holding out a friendly hand to high five. But your gaze only stays fixed on the shiny floors and shoes. Ahhh, you hate these thoughts... You hit your head a couple times before remembering not to leave your second year hanging, putting on a little smile.
Buzzing crickets chirp in the fields outside; the loud ruckus of practice slowly died down into chatter as everyone began to wrap up. Second years lingering while passing a ball around. Beads of sweat slowly dripped down the side of your face as you headed for the exit, light pooling out onto the dirt path.
"First years come in two days, right?" you say, tugging your school shirt on as a jacket and gathering your bag.
Fumi raises a brow. "You bet, VP. Leaving early?"
"Tired."
"Huhhh?! It was always hard to get you to leave the gym last year."
Don't remind me... "Yeah, well, guess I'm out of shape."
"You okay? You haven't played this horribly since you got the flu and still insisted on playing last winter." Fumi looks at you unconvinced, scared almost, with slight worry on her face.
"Thanks for rubbing some salt on that wound. Not really, but I have cleaning duties for Kettlehead, remember?"
"Ahh, yeah," she sucks her teeth, chuckling slightly.
You roll your eyes, swinging your sweaty towel at her. "Ew!" She yelps, leaving a small bittersweet smile on her face.
Stupid Kettlehead.
Stupid fish thief.
The thought of their menacing shadows looming over your poor self sweeping the yucky floorboards almost made you snap the old school broom in half. It was a Monday afternoon; the weather was great for running around, the crows cawed, the leaves swayed, and your mom had promised you chicken katsu for dinner. Ahhhhh—
Stupid, stupid... you'd think taking Kenma was enough for that bastard.
You sigh, turning toward the large windows that spanned the room's length. Far behind the dense sparkling buildings of the Tokyo suburbs, the sun dipped below the horizon and its orange glow tainted the clouds littered among the open sky. Your stomach grumbles—it almost looks like a Garigari-kun popsicle...
Dropping the broom with little care, you turn to your school bag propped up against the teacher's podium. It's the same old one from last year, rectangular and slightly shiny. You decided investing in a bag for college was probably a better idea.
Sitting down on the raised platform, you rummage among new textbooks and notebooks, loose pens, and candy wrappers with disappointment. Staying late with cleaning duties wasn't exactly planned, so you pretty much ate everything you had throughout the day—with the exception of an old granola bar that seemingly hid just well enough to escape spring cleaning. "Yeah no," you deadpan, flicking the flattened thing into the trash can like a basketball. "Swish..."
A small buzz bellowed from the bottom of your bag. Rummaging around, you find your sticker-covered phone bouncing around in a little pocket. Flipping it open, the name on the little screen brings you a bit of relief.
"[Name]?"
"Yeah?"
"CAN YOU HEAR ME?" Your neck jerks back.
"Yea— Mom, I can hear—"
"Hold on— Let me call you back!" You stare at your home screen in complete confusion; your mom keeps refusing to buy a new house phone so she's forever struggling with the broken cord. A couple moments of silence go by waiting for her call. In the far distance, you hear footsteps and chatter echoing in the empty halls. Your phone buzzes to life once more and you prop it up to your ear.
"...Hello?" You hesitate, gathering cleaning supplies back to the closet.
A small silence crackles across the line.
"OK, I can hear you now! Stupid phone, not even that old anyways— when are you coming home? I thought your club activities ended a while ago?!" Right, you forgot to text her.
"Sorry Mom, I got stuck with cleaning duty because of—"
"Yahh— You should stop making comments proving you lack docosahexaenoic acid!" The door suddenly slid open with a loud smack. Large limbs stomp into the room, as another, shorter pair followed behind. Well... well, well, you meet the stupid truffle of hair again.
"Fish thief..." you mutter under your breath.
"Swish leaf? What was that?! I couldn't hear you!" Your mom chirped in your ear. "Are there people there?!"
"Whatever you say, old man!" Yaku Mori-something stuck his tongue out at him, making your neighbor throw stupid noises back. Jeez, how old were these guys?
He sucked his teeth, completely unaware of how you awkwardly stood right in front of them. "Whatever, Yaku, you're still just mad you don't understand the insult." The grin on your neighbor's face slowly fades, noticing the boy next to him was looking forward sheepishly, a little blush on his cheeks. Following his gaze, he finally notices you looking at them deadpan with a phone pressed up to your ear.
"Was that Kuroo-san?" Breaking through the awkward silence, your mom yells over the speaker.
You exhale, tugging on the hem of your untucked blouse. "Clean up duty. I got clean up duty, Mom."
"Okay, just text me—" You hum and shut the device.
"Oh... uh— hey?" Kuroo rubs the back of his neck, completely lost on where to rest his eyes.
You struggle with the shoulder band on your bag and sigh, "Yeah." Not bothering to spare the dumb duo a second glance, you brush past them making a beeline towards the door.
A loud thud follows behind you, making your neighbor yelp in pain. "ITAI!"
Yaku mutters, "Dude, say som—" The door claps shut, silencing the two idiots inside. The halls were dimly lit, bathed in a pretty blue you could only get this time of day. Practice had been a bust—it scared you. The first practice was always the best: fun, no pressure, catching up. For the past two years you'd learned to look forward to it. But today? Today something left a hole in you, yearning for that feeling.
The doors slide open again, as Kuroo comes fumbling out, kicked by Yaku like a puppy. "Do it already!" he whispers.
"Hey...!" He whisper-shouts at his friend, flinching at another of Yaku's kicks. They slap fight for a while until Kuroo slowly realizes you turned the corner out of his sight.
"She's gone, asshole," Kuroo whines.
Earning him a scoff from Yaku, "You can't keep avoiding her like an idiot, you know?"
"What do you know?!" He ruffles the shorter boy's hair, a small pout on his face.
The train station was packed to the brim.
6:25 PM.
It was a real contrast to the uptight, fluid rush of the morning. Now everyone looked exhausted, moved sluggishly, and most of all, had a bad temper.
"Watch where you're going, girl," a salaryman stumbling around spat at you. You were simply trying to catch your train just like everyone else. Exhaustion honestly had people acting up, but it was a pretty common crowd for you. Students from the area would leave a little earlier, maybe around five?
At least that's what time Hanata would leave, I think.
So, for the ones who weren't as fortunate to leave school so early, they had to deal with the later train's crowd. In its entirety it wasn't all that bad. If it were maybe a couple hours later, drunk people would start stumbling out of the bars, so a couple grumpy people weren't that bad.
Taking a quick glance around, you noticed the small differences from the renovation done during the winter. The station was always well kept, but there was only so much you could do to an old station. Now, though, the light fixtures had a modern touch, the flooring had been replaced with shiny ceramic tile, and newer looking signs to indicate the train line's stops. Additionally, the ticket gates didn't groan like they used to. It honestly gave you the creeps when anyone would go through one of those.
The person in front of you soon picked their ticket and left the small machine to you. Pressing the little buttons like muscle memory, you pulled out your Kuromi wallet Fumi had gotten you for friendship day and got a matching Hello Kitty one. Scanning your train card, you had managed to get your ticket in under a minute.
New record...
Walking onto the open platform, you waited by where your train would arrive, now noticing it had started to drizzle. Looking around in boredom, you spotted familiar inky strands poking out of the crowd, towering above everyone else. Kuroo and Kenma often took the same train back home, so it was no surprise seeing them there. You had seen them there through every season, time, and day, sitting together and minding their own business. Rarely looking your way.
Yet... as they waded through the thick crowds, the towering boy's eyes fell on you, just for a beat longer than they should have. The crowd suddenly slowed down; it felt almost wrong for his eyes to fall on you. A strange dough-eyed look that made him seem lost at the sight of you. Weird... although it was small, it was as if some fourth wall had been broken and you were no longer the spectator of him. His life, Kenma... For some reason, as awkward as the brief conversation you had was, something felt different.
A disturbance in the force, oh no... bum bum— I should watch Star Wars again... But then again, a drama sounds way better...
You cringed at your own thoughts, and before you knew it, the train had arrived.
...It's just the fish thief. Why do I care... What should I have for dinner...? His hair reminds me of seaweed. I should have that leftover onigiri... maybe that would motivate me not to suck at practice...
Looking around the crowded car, you see all the seats were taken. Sighing, you accept your fate and grab onto the handle bars above you. Putting one earbud in, you randomly select a song and let it play.
Closing your eyes, you slowly drift away. An uncomfortable feeling arises as you feel the train's crowd pushing into you. Being shoved from side to side in comparison to everyone's height. Looking up, you see Kuroo again nervously gesturing to the empty seat by Kenma. Strange... as stubborn as you wanted to be, you scooted yourself into the seat. Avoiding eye contact with the boy as he takes quick glances at you that go unnoticed.
Stuffy...