Chapter Text
Naturally, Tendou laughed in his face the first time Ushijima showed him.
“Wakatoshi-kun,” he breathed, wiping a tear from his eye, “you better find your soulmate soon so I can tape record the whole thing!”
Ushijima frowned, eyes drifting back to the words marked on the underside of his left index finger. Contrary to popular belief, Shiratorizawa’s ace did have a sense of humor, albeit minimal. He wasn’t so oblivious that he wouldn’t notice if some phrases connoted an underlying meaning to them.
But was, ‘Man. I really like your balls,’ something anyone would say in a regular conversation?
The words written in elegant handwriting on Tendou’s wrist were simple and didn’t leave a lot to ponder on. ‘Hi, I’m the normal guy.’ Couldn’t he have been bestowed with less suggestive first words from his soulmate, as well?
“Maybe you’re going to a brothel in the future,” Tendou offered when he noticed his captain’s obvious distress. “The miracle boy Ushijima Wakatoshi, the unmovable ace, actually seeking pleasurable release. Hmm, but that’s still a ways away if you ask me.”
The ace knitted his brows together at the middle blocker’s assumption. Ushijima had more tact than that. One would never catch him dead anywhere near a red light district. But he supposed Tendou only meant it as a jest.
“When you get ideas dropping by Kabukicho or somethin’, tell me, okay~”
...Or not.
“Niiyama Girls’ High?” Ushijima echoed.
Coach Washijou merely huffed. “I’ll be away this Sunday when they arrive for the joint practice. Try to learn what you can from their play style. I trust your judgement in seeing what is fit to take note of and apply with our own strategy.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are a girls’ volleyball club’s tactics truly applicable for us, coach?”
“Don’t underestimate them women, Wakatoshi,” the old man chided. “They’re more graceful than you meaty idiots. More elegant with their plays, too. Have I made myself clear?”
Ushijima could only nod reluctantly.
“I heard the girls from Niiyama are called Queens,” Tendou drawled as he tossed a volleyball into Shirabu’s direction. The young setter caught it swiftly, wedging it under his arm.
“Tendou-san, we’re not finished inflating them yet,” Shirabu sighed.
The middle blocker stuck his tongue out. “How many do we even need? There’s tons piled up in the ball cart already.”
“Tendou, refrain from jeopardizing Shirabu’s responsibilities,” Ushijima spoke flatly as he finished the rest of his warm-up, throwing a cautionary gaze in his direction which the redhead pointedly ignored.
“Wakatoshi-kun is so uptight,” Tendou sneered. “Eh? Is it because a bunch of girls are coming over? Is Wakatoshi-kun flustered all of a sudden?”
“I am simply carrying on Coach Washijou’s request of keeping things orderly in his absence.”
“Hmph,” he simpered. “I just wanna have fun with some cuties, Wakatoshi-kun.”
Ushijima dismissed Tendou’s reasoning to crack his fingers. The crunch of the cartilage beneath his skin was a satisfying pop in his ears, and it eases the cricks that have formed in his joints, eliciting a soft sigh of satisfaction from him.
“Everyone, listen up please,” Coach Saitou emerged from the gym’s entrance, clapping his hands loudly to garner everyone’s attention. “Niiyama’s already here. Compose yourselves and finish up with your respective warm-ups. We’re going to have a practice match.”
Semi wrinkled his nose. “Coach, isn’t there a bit of an imbalance?”
Coach Saitou smiled. “You’ll know in a minute, Semi-kun.”
As most of his teammates discussed trivial matters among themselves, Ushijima leaned against a wall to bask in his own silence. He was not one to question direct orders from Washijou himself, but this particular joint practice left him with some questions that he’d like to be enlightened with.
If he was feeling it, Washijou would go as far as to invite Mujinazaka so Ushijima could go toe to toe against Kiryu. Why he suddenly took interest in the powerhouse all-female volleyball club of Niiyama was beyond his comprehension. Men and women’s volleyball were separated for a good reason, after all.
His train of thought was derailed when Goshiki let out an unhindered gasp and Hayato chided the young ace for ‘being so obvious’. The captain shifted his field of view, expression poised as usual, while their guests filed inside the gymnasium one by one.
The girls of Niiyama High’s volleyball club all had one thing in common: short hair. It made sense. Sure, many professional players he’s seen wore their hair in taut ponytails and bangs bound by headbands. But it’s known to be much easier to play when their hair didn’t grow longer than the napes of their necks. When they managed to settle inside, the rest of Shiratorizawa’s players fell silent, scrutinizing the visitors clad in red and white uniforms.
“We’re the Niiyama girls’ volleyball club,” a light-haired player wearing the jersey marked with the number one proclaimed; a bow swiftly followed her introduction. “Thank you for inviting us.”
“Thank you for inviting us!” the rest of them resounded.
Noticing that his teammates were stunned into silence by the mere presence of the other team in their gym, Ushijima cleared his throat, walking over to them.
“Greetings should be returned with the same vigor,” he reminded.
His words seemingly impelled boys to compose themselves the next second, each one lining up properly in front of their guests.
“Let’s have a good game!”
Ushijima could hear Coach Saitou snickering from where he stood, and even he could see why the coach was finding this quite humorous. It seemed Tendou and Reon were the only ones apart from himself that remained unfazed by the arrival of such unlikely guests.
As the girls began their own respective warm-ups, Ushijima rounded up his own teammates to minimize the chances of someone making a fool out of himself. Though Shiratorizawa has a reputation that suggested that it housed the most sophisticated students, that didn’t seem like the case when taking the volleyball team into consideration. Outside of a game, most of them tend to be swayed by the strangest things, and Ushijima was certain that being in the same space as a group of girls in the same age group was one of those things.
“Coach Washijou really is the devil,” Reon chortled as he walked over to Ushijima’s side. “Did he really want a one-sided match for us that badly?”
Upon hearing the wing spiker’s words, Ushijima’s mouth downturned into a grimace. He could very much remember the warning in Washijou’s voice when he told him not to underestimate these girls. They were a constant participant at nationals after all. But, still, it didn’t make sense why they would even agree to a practice match against Shiratorizawa, knowing the circumstances.
“Can I have everyone’s attention?” a woman, presumably Niiyama’s coach, called out from the side of the court. All the people in the room halted their ministrations at once. “Since the manpower of each team is obviously disproportionate,” she began, “we’ll be handing out draw-lots to determine who goes on white and black teams respectively.”
So that was how they were going to address the issue that’s been plaguing Ushijima for days. He affixed a thoughtful gaze on the plastic cup in the woman’s hands. It seemed fair, but the idea didn’t completely sit well with him.
“But only those in the starting lineup will be participating in the practice match,” Saitou supplied with a hint of remorse.
“It’s alright, coach,” Semi assured. “It’s quite fun to see something different every once in a while.”
The players on each team’s starting roster came forward when called to draw their colored sticks. Ushijima eyed Niiyama’s members with calculative curiosity. Each of them wore a calm and collected demeanor that rivalled his own, as if the idea of going up against one of Miyagi’s powerhouse schools didn’t even faze them at the slightest. But his gaze was particularly drawn to one of the girls that wore the number three jersey. There was a confident spark in your eye that Ushijima only saw in opponents who were certain of their victory.
When it was his turn to draw his lot, Ushijima got a white stick.
“Aww, I’m gonna have to play against Wakatoshi-kun?” Tendou groaned, holding up a black stick in disdain. “I can totally beat him, but his spikes can induce fractures, coach!”
Ushijima managed to overhear you complain to your captain, who seemed to draw a white lot as well. “Mei-chan, going up against two captains is hardly fair!”
“I’m sure you all can manage,” Saitou insisted. “We made sure the number of boys and girls on the team is equal. Liberos will also be playing full-time to even out the numbers. But do another rotation when they’re in the setting and serving positions. Now then, please go to your respective sides on-court and introduce yourselves!”
If Ushijima were to describe the practice match with one word, it would be…interesting.
The first set had extended up to the thirties, and the ace was already sweating profusely despite it still being early in the game. A noticeable crease was embedded in Ushijima’s brow as he caught his breath, wiping away a sheen from his sweat-stricken skin. He’s conditioned himself to have stamina like no other, but the power he’s forced to use just to get past the opposing blockers was draining him far more quickly than he anticipated.
“Shiratorizawa’s got a monster blocker, yeah?” Niiyama’s captain and one of his team’s middle blockers, Haruno Mei inquired.
He stared at her, considering her words. “Are you perhaps talking about Tendou?”
“Yeah. The red-haired guy,” she affirmed, keeping her gaze straight. “Well, let’s say that we’ve got our own monster blocker, too.”
He could have interpreted that as Haruno talking about herself, but he knew what his temporary teammate meant by her words. Just on the opposite side of the net, you were discussing something with Tendou with interest sparking your eyes. When you caught the ace staring, a smirk stretched across your lips.
Ushijima narrowed his gaze. Tendou was already a troublesome middle blocker on his own. He was one of the few that could actually stop Ushijima when he’s already set a momentum for himself. But that’s only because Tendou knew of his habits on-court. You, though? You’ve shut him down in one set more times than any of his rivals have in his entire career despite not having prior knowledge about his style.
“(Name) is a little timid when blocking alone,” Haruno supplied further. “But when she’s paired up with another seasoned middle blocker, they'd be a double threat. I’m sure you’ve heard about Niiyama’s Gemini blocker, right?”
No, he really hadn’t heard of the title, but it suggested exactly what Ushijima had been observing since the match started. Whenever you and Tendou rotated together in the front, the ace felt as if he wasn’t just being stuffed by one Guess Monster, but two .
When the game resumed at the referee’s signal, Ushijima unknowingly set a goal for himself.
He was going to crush you.
“We gave you quite the run for your money, didn’t we, Wakatoshi-kun?” Tendou slung an arm over Ushijima’s shoulder. “You looked plenty mad back there~”
As usual, Ushijima ignored Tendou’s taunts while he picked up a lone volleyball on the floor. After the practice match—with his team as its victors—everyone was provided ample time for free practice.
“Ah, that one chick on my team was a real demon, too,” the middle blocker continued, despite his captain’s obvious indifference. “You’d love to have her on your team, Wakatoshi-kun. She’s just like a second me!”
Ushijima spared him an unreadable look, but he found himself frowning at the redhead’s proclamation. It seemed that he wasn’t the only one who noticed how similar your blocking style was to Tendou’s. But Ushijima didn’t particularly feel the need to articulate his concern.
“I do not believe anyone could be as...lively as you are, Tendou,” is what he told him instead.
Tendou barked out an amused laugh. “Of course not! Even Eita-kun told me I’m like a monster on steroids. I meant the way she played. Her guesses were as good as mine. It’s like we’re meant to be~”
Once the words left his teammate’s lips, an uncomfortable sensation seized the ace in the preceding moment. Brows knitting together, Ushijima placed a palm over his chest, trying to check for any irregularities in his heartbeat, but everything seemed to be fine.
He recalled the brief conversation he had with Haruno. Niiyama’s captain implied that you had a peculiar talent for drawing out the best of your fellow blockers’ abilities. It made Ushijima wonder if you truly were a second Guess Monster or simply a genius who could conform with your teammates’ play styles at an exorbitant rate.
In the middle of his careful contemplation, Tendou offered to play catch with him, and Ushijima was about to accept until—
“Man, I really like your balls.”
Hearing those words aloud made every muscle in Ushijima’s body go frigid. His fingers felt cold, and goosebumps erupted on the flesh of his arms. He could see Tendou freezing up from where he stood in his peripheral vision, too. It was no fluke that he heard the words he was destined to hear right now, in the middle of a joint practice. That only meant…
He turned around. You met his olive-eyed stare with playful amusement.
“I’ve been meaning to convince Mei-chan to change up our volleyballs to Mikasa ones,” you sighed, twirling one of the balls in your hand. “Molten is just out of trend, you know?”
For once, the captain didn’t know how to act accordingly. His mouth felt dry, like his tongue turned into sand, rendering him unable to make a sound. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, blunt nails digging into his skin in an attempt to calm himself. Thankfully, Ushijima had a talent for retaining his composed demeanor under duress, which made you entirely oblivious to the shift in his countenance.
“Thank you,” he imparted, voice schooled into neutrality. “Our second years made sure to inflate them with the recommended air pressure.”
“They’re in good hands, huh?” You grinned.
“Oh, Wakatoshi-kun is also in good hands, (Name)-chan,” Tendou snickered, earning him a glare from his usually stoic captain. But the middle blocker didn’t even bat an eyelash at his captain’s reaction.
“By the way, sorry about earlier. It was just a practice match but I poured everything into it. It probably doesn’t matter since you guys won, right?” You scratched the back of your head, cheeks tinged with a warm color that Ushijima, though he loath to admit, almost found endearing.
“It is only proper to give everything you have in whatever task given. Any effort given at one’s best will never be pointless.” He chose his words carefully, not wanting to let any semblance of discomposure slip from his mouth.
You nodded, mouth hung in awe. “Such a straightforward guy you are, huh?”
“Not always,” Tendou coughed and at that point, Ushijima was already contemplating on spiking him in the face to make his chatty teammate shut up for once.
When the idea popped into his head, Ushijima gulped the next second. It wasn’t like him to think violence upon others, regardless of how much they grated on his nerves. With that, he could almost hear the words his father had told him about soulmates just before he had to leave for another country.
“There’ll come a day when you’ll meet the person who’s going to utter these words to you,” his father had said, tracing his fingers over the strange words on his son’s much tinier ones. “When that day comes, your heart will go into overdrive. You’ll act in ways you never have before. It’ll be like a hurricane tore through your whole being—your soul.”
Those words had been theatrical at best, and dreadful at worst. Ushijima was a bright boy for his age when he was imparted with them, and the first reaction that was excited from him was cold skepticism.
If that’s true then why are you leaving me and mother behind?
He’d wanted to ask Takashi that one question, but he knew that his father would only leave him with some vague answer and a pat on the head. He never was a straightforward man when it came to things that didn’t include volleyball—always opting to talk in riddles and insisting that Ushijima would ‘know when the time is right’.
Ever since Takashi left Japan, Ushijima had always despised the concept of soulmates; it didn’t guarantee happiness or satisfaction. The deity responsible for such a thing simply lumped in random people together even if there was no compatibility whatsoever. His parents were a clear example of that and the last thing he’d want to do is to engage himself in something that would do more harm than good to him and his emotional well-being.
But once today’s joint practice came to an end, he simply couldn’t help it. The way his heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings when you stopped to wave your hand at him in farewell was accompanied by an unfamiliar sensation that spread across his entire being. It felt...it felt soothing.
“Wakatoshi.”
The sound of Reon’s voice yanked him back to his senses. Ushijima blinked, realizing that he’d been standing by the gym’s entrance ever since Niiyama’s players departed, quite lost in thought.
Unlike Tendou, Reon was better at reading people, even Ushijima—placid and stoic Ushijima—himself. When the wing spiker cast him a knowing look with those thoughtful eyes of his, the captain felt like Reon was picking him apart with a single gaze.
“Is there anything you want off your chest?” was his icebreaker.
Ushijima considered his words, contemplating whether or not the thoughts plaguing his mind were worthy of a discussion. It was but a trivial little thing. He’s faced dozens of discrepancies before that were much more troublesome in nature. Eliciting a sound that sounded like a sigh, but not quite, Ushijima went back inside the gym with the intent of assisting with tonight’s clean-up.
“Nothing at all.”
“Wakatoshi-kun, you’re no fun,” Tendou huffed as he shut the door to their shared room, immediately climbing up the ladder to the top bunk.
Ushijima eyed him from where he stood, shrugging off his jacket to hang on the hook behind the door. His expression morphed into subtle curiosity because this was the first time he’s talked to Ushijima since practice ended. Tendou had been giving him the cold shoulder throughout dinner, and he wasn’t being discreet about it either.
Deciding to see where this will go, he took a more neutral approach. “You’ve told me such numerous times already, Tendou.”
“You know what I mean.” He merely frowned.
For the past three years, Tendou had these sporadic mood swings from time to time and Ushijima had gotten used to them. However, no matter how long they’ve been sharing this room together, the ace never seemed to understand the pattern in his temper. But for some reason, Ushijima subconsciously knew that, this time, Tendou’s irritation wasn’t entirely baseless.
When the captain said nothing in response, Tendou clicked his tongue, hopping across the bedrail to land gracefully on the carpeted floor.
The middle blocker grunted, placing his hands on his hips in an accusatory gesture. “Why didn’t you tell her she’s your soulmate? You a pussy or something?”
Looking over the fact that his heart lurched in his ribcage at the reminder, Ushijima managed to say, “(Surname) did not seem to react strongly to me when I spoke to her. The possibility of her not being my ‘soulmate’, as you put it, is still there, Tendou.”
He clicked his tongue again with more vigor. “That’s ‘cause the first words you told her were, ‘thank you’. How many times does a person hear that from strangers? A whole fuckin’ lot, Wakatoshi-kun.” He graced his dialogue with exaggerated movements from his hands that seemed oddly fitting. “Meanwhile, you’re here with the same exact words she hit you up with tattooed on your fuckin’ hand, and you’re turning a blind eye? Is Wakatoshi-kun a dumbass?”
The snark in Tendou’s seething rage complemented his words in a strange way. They were enough to catch Ushijima off guard, since Tendou was someone that never lost his twisted glee unless an opponent on-court was besting him. But they were not playing volleyball, and no one was besting him at all.
Or was there?
Tendou fisted Ushijima’s shirt and brought his face closer to his. Carmine eyes bore into his own with an emotion he isn’t familiar with.
“I’ve been dying to meet who mine is, did you know that?” Tendou whispered airily. “I’m always searching for ‘the normal guy’. But who the fuck is just gonna tell that to my face? You met your own match today, but chose to ignore it? It—it fuckin’ pisses me off, Wakatoshi-kun.”
Ushijima exhaled, refusing to let Tendou’s rash words faze him in any way. He acknowledged his teammate’s strong feelings about the whole soulmate matter, but telling you still wasn’t his decision to make. Not when Ushijima still had his thoughts all over the place.
“Go to sleep, Tendou.” Ushijima pried his grip off his shirt. “Spring High Qualifiers begin tomorrow. You best forget about this and get some rest.”
Tendou’s glare never let up as he scoffed, making his way to the door. “I’m going to hit some serves in the gym. Don’t follow me.”
“It was not my intention to.”
His roommate responded by slamming the door behind him with more force than what was necessary. Almost immediately after, Ushijima could hear Semi barking about the noise in the hall, to which Tendou replied with a muffled, “Fuck off, Semisemi.”
The captain sighed, sitting on his bottom bunk bed to quell the apprehension rooting itself under his skin. To an extent, Tendou had been right about him being ‘a pussy’. But it’s not as if it mattered. There was no need for him to rush things, nor did Ushijima wish to.
He would tell you in his own time.