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It's raining again.
Not much, but the drizzle simply wouldn't let up. It's been over a week. Nine days, to be exact.
Sunshine wasn't really Kageyama Tobio's favourite weather, he was more of a winter person, so this was nice.
Everyone else was certainly not enjoying this... but he was.
He looks up to check the time again. Ten minutes until the bus arrives.
In the corner of his eye, a flash of movement catches his attention.
A quick flick of their wrist, animated slender fingers and a smile on her lips. She had headphones on, hips swaying and slightly bouncing to whatever song she was listening to. It was an infectious site: pure happiness.
Her movements didn't quite match an amateur conductor's though. There were defined movements, some repeated, some didn't. He couldn't help but try to figure it out. One particular movement caught his eye, a finger pointed brushing a line in front of her, a volleyball sign: Time-sync attack in front of the setter.
He kept intently watching her hands, enthralled. Did she play volleyball too? Was she practising right now? It was an odd method to practice, but hell, he'd probably do it too if he had the personality of Hinata and the music addiction of Tsukishima.
The bus finally arrived, blocking his view, which snaps him out of his tunnel-vision. He boards the bus, trying to see where she was seated. She takes the seat at the front, causing him to pause. He didn't want to come off as a stalker, so he edges towards the middle of the bus and sits down. This, of course, did not allow for spying, as he could barely see her movements now.
He sits back, sighs and looks out the window. It's times like this he wished that Boke was here. At least he could get Hinata-boke to find out if she plays or not. It's not like he's shy. He's just reserved, that's all.
So, he loses the chance once she leaves only two stops later.
His confidence doesn't improve the next day or the day after, and soon enough he's wondering if he ever had cojones -as Tanaka-senpai would put it.
He shrugs. It wasn't like there weren't female volleyball-players at his school and he could certainly talk to them if the occasion called for it. Maybe it was just the excitement of meeting someone outside of school that shares a club. Yes. Definitely. That's it.
He lets it go, convinces himself there was no further merit in pursuing it.
Until the next day. She's there again. Signals of old and new come flying from her gestures and he's left wondering What the Hell is the game plan they're trying to practice.
He tries to be smooth about it, leaning against the beam that keeps the bus-stop roof up. Arms crossed and legs angled as he tries his best to look non-chalant. Maybe he wasn't so convincing, as the old lady -whom usually only nods in answer to his greeting - gave him a strong look of confusion upon arriving.
The young prodigy almost jumps out of his skin when a clatter sounds next to him, followed by the young woman's soundless yell and jerk of her arms. Her cellphone had fallen from her pocket, the music now blearing around them.
She quickly picks it up, frantically using her shirt to wipe away the water -and he would just pretend to not have seen a flash of skin when she did. She quickly plugs the audio-jack back in to silence the bass beat emitting from her phone.
With a swift turn, she bows to the other patrons – only the Kageyama and the old lady today- and mouths a soft pink-lip apology: Sorry.
“Hmm,” is all he answers with.
The old woman seemed content to simply watch.
Thank you, another silent response comes and he's kind of interested now.
The young woman turns back to stare at the road, her hands silent now.
He's left wondering if she were still embarrassed.
The next day she's gone. He almost misses the bus while waiting for her to arrive. Silently guilt seeps in, was it possible he offended her yesterday by not answering?
It didn't help that he couldn't explain to her what he'd meant, because the next day they were at Fukurodani practising for the Finals. It irks him when he can't seem to concentrate and he's left with three laps around the court with penalty dives. It hurt his pride more than anything else.
So, the next day, he's relieved -though he couldn't quite place why- when he spots her there.
This time she only had one of ear-bud in, the other hanging loosely over her shoulder. She seems tired, dark circles under her eyes and a fever-blush on her cheeks.
“Hi-hai - hello...” he mumbles, mentally spiking himself in the face for stuttering.
She looks over, usual luster missing from her eyes as she scans him for a moment. Her eyebrows lift as she recognizes him. A small smile creeps to her lips and she mouths: 'Hello'
He figures she must've caught a cold or flu, so her throat must hurt. He touches his throat in sympathy, awkwardly smiling back since facial expressions aren't his thing and he's pretty sure that's the only expression applicable in this situation, “Sore throat?”
She nods. A soundless, 'Hurts like hell'
He nods too, “A cold?”
She nods.
He steps sideways, but it makes her giggle... or at least, it must be a giggle, she's smiling and her shoulders are shaking up and down.
The sight makes him smile too.
“Kageyama Tobio,” he introduces himself involuntarily. The words leave his lips unwarranted but he certainly knows it's bad manners to ask for someone else's name before giving your own. He quickly extends his hand when he remembers people shake hands too during introductions. But, logic also tells him to be grateful, so he bows a second later. His mix of gestures frustrate him and he groans angrily at the realization that's he's not quite at Hinata's level of social interaction. Damn that actual dumbass with his damn smoothness and fricking ease he had when talking to people. He looks up, spots her pursed lips -she's still trying to contain her voiceless laugh- and frowns, “Yours?”
The tone is harsh but he means well.
She takes a moment to breathe before answering in silence but with slow movement of her lips, 'My name is....'
And damned if that name weren't written by the Angels themselves. He blushes and swallows hard because at that moment all he can think of is how absolutely gorgeous she is.
The detail strike him as strange, because he never really thought about stuff like that. It's not like he certainly never noticed girls, but he never really looked at one either. So, he decides it must be because of the interest. Yes, definitely. So, he goes, “Do you play volleyball?”
She shakes her head, tapping her head before points at him and does a small wave with her hand. I know you do.
He catches the drift of her motion and smiles.
Her face suddenly lights up, she smiles widely and it leaves him dazzled. She points to her head again, circles her fingers around each other before showing the sign for a volleyball-play b quick attack before grinning at him once more.
He stares for a moment before blinking.
Her face drops.
“Was that sign language?” he asks and the realization hits him like a brick when she doesn't respond straight away, “You... can't talk?”.
'Sorry' she mouths and starts to turn away, only to have him grab the edge of her sleeve. She turns back with a quizzical expression.
“Teach me,” he says, the flash of memory of Hinata telling him to be nice makes him revise it a second later, “Please. I can't talk to you if I don't understand it... so... please?”
This time, it's she who's staring.
“Teach me.”