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Yachi was almost beyond doubt when she said the gate of their flight was gate number one. In defiance of her belief, the information screen at the gate number one showed that the flight was destined for Aomori when their flight was supposed to be bound for Osaka. She didn’t have the boarding pass with her because she had entrusted it to Shimizu earlier. Yet, she was dead confident the gate was numbered one as it was situated at the very end of the building.
“I guess by ‘at the end’, it means the other end, Yachi-san,” Tsukishima said, folding his arms together, directing his gaze faraway to the other end that couldn’t be seen. “It means gate eighteen.”
He could tell how shaken Yachi was by the way she wheezed. Without prejudice, it was partially his fault too for not double-checking. At the least, he should had contacted Daichi or taken a gander at the information display since he didn’t have his boarding pass with him either. Instead, this slothful twat opted to follow Yachi’s lead when Yachi was a klutz herself.
This week was a golden week and the team was scheduled to have a quote unquote flash training camp in Osaka. It was arranged and sponsored by the parents’ association as some of the members were alumnus of this certain high-school in Osaka that annually held a flash training camp during the golden week.
Everything was peaceful and fine until Yachi decided it would be a great idea to forget a suitcase inside one of the restroom. It was an aluminum-alloy suitcase that was quite big that it made you wonder how she could forget about it. In the end, no one in the club blamed her because it wasn’t her suitcase in the first place. It was the club’s. The suitcase was filled with flattened volleyballs, water bottles, and other essentials.
Yachi was about to fetch the suitcase by herself when Tsukishima offered his help. His actual motive was to get away from Hinata and Nishinoya since these kids were so loud, their voices leaked into his headphones. For the record, even if it wasn’t for those rowdy brats, he might had volunteered himself anyway. He liked strolling around the airport, and he would rather have Yachi (or Yamaguchi) as a companion rather than the rest of the team. He wanted to get away from the chaos.
Although, he didn’t expect how much the chaos loved him.
Tsukishima ended his phonecall with Daichi. The gate was indeed gate 18. It was faraway at the other end of the building since this airport was designed that all the gates with their waiting area were arranged in parallel by their sequence numbers. Surely, it was a long, long building.
“I’m sorry, Tsukishima-kun,” Yachi said, her voice low and weary. She drooped her head, hiding her washed-out face behind her hair.
He shrugged his shoulder. “Whatever,” he said, checking his wristwatch. “We need to hurry up though. We have less than ten minutes before they close the gate. Also, the coach is mad as hell. If we miss this flight, he’ll force us to go there by foot – well – or buy Shinkansen tickets by ourselves.”
“So, we’re running now?” Yachi clenched onto her strap of her duffle-bag.
“Unless you can teleport, yes we are running,” Tsukishima said in respond. He adjusted the strap of his own backpack and gripped the suitcase’s handle. He looked down to Yachi. “Ready?”
“Right behind you,” she answered with a firm nod.
And so, they started running. They couldn’t afford to miss this flight. It’s the Golden Week, so it was unquestionable that all flights were fully booked, especially the domestic ones. Everyone demanded a short getaway from the hustle-bustle of their usual routine.
Tsukishima wasn’t exceptionally fast. If he wasn’t wrong, Shimizu had noted that his speed valuation was three out of five. Nevertheless, he was six feet tall. He was the tallest on the team. On the other hand, Yachi was barely four feet eleven. Her height only reached Tsukishima’s chest. Of course the not-even-five-feet-tall Yachi Hitoka wouldn’t be able to match his extensive strides. The girl’s feet were scrambling to catch up.
Before long, the sound call of airport announcement dinged, ordering for attention. The two blond kids subconsciously slowed down their pace.
Good afternoon, passengers. This is the final boarding call for passengers Tsukishima Kei-sama and Yachi Hitoka-sama flying to Osaka on flight number MM, one – three – zero. Please proceed to gate 18 immediately. The door of the aircraft will close in approximately five minutes time. I repeat. This is the final boarding call for passengers Tsukishima Kei-sama and Yachi Hitoka-sama.
The announcement ended but it felt like the words ‘five minutes’ were still echoing throughout the entire waiting area, from one end to the other, reminding them of how gate number 18 was located in the back of beyond. They caught a glimpse of their current position. Gate 5. Almost Gate 6.
“Yachi-san, that’s our last call right there and if we don’t reach our gate–“
“I know, Tsukishima-kun,” Yachi said between her pant, struggling for air in every word. “I know,” she repeated, practically gasping. “Believe me, this is the best my legs can do!”
Her voice sounded restrained and far. Tsukishima then realized she was roughly eight feet behind him. At first glance, it was clear as a crystal that her current speed was the fastest her legs could maintain. Her face had totally flushed red and her scrunchie was halfway from falling off. Her arms swayed back and forth, synchronizing with her legs.
Tsukishima looked at his wristwatch. Five minutes. Twelve gates. He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, taking a deep breath in. This will appear to be a completely dumbass idea but we’ve got to try something and I don’t have anything else in mind. When he opened his eyes, his long strides came to a halt. Yachi slammed her body against his back with a loud thud. She staggered backward and collapsed on her bottom, her duffle-bag by her side.
Tsukishima turned around to face her, his body was towering before her small build. “You know what, screw your legs,” he told her. He tugged the alloy suitcase and parked it in front of her. “You ride this.”
Yachi’s jaw dropped. She looked at him, to the suitcase, and back to him. She struggled for words. An “excuse me?” was all that left her mouth.
“Christ, Yachi-san. We don’t have all day.” He grabbed both of her hands and pulled her up almost effortlessly, forcing her to arise from the floor.
“Can–“ She stuttered, her eyes wide, head shaking. “C-can we just – like – hold hands while running?”
She did it once with Hinata. Honestly, it was kind of romantic. Regardless, she thought she saw his eyes rolled. “The problem is your short legs can’t match my speed,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He placed one hand on his hips and the other on the handle. “You’ll fall and I can’t carry you while pulling this goddamn whacking-great suitcase at the same time. Just get on right now, will you?”
Silence and then, “. . . No?” Her brow was knitted to a frown. She shook her head fast, gradually shrunk back. “No, no, no, of course not, you must be joking, Tsukishima-kun. This is so not Tsukishima Kei. Are you possessed by something? You are possessed by something, aren’t you?”
Deep in his heart, he agreed. This didn’t seem like an idea that would pop up from his mind once upon a time. He didn’t want to do it as well. Even so, there was no other option. Osaka’s too far to walk by foot and he didn’t have money for a Shinkansen ticket. Every footstep she make to back away, he returned them double.
“Yachi-san, you’re really wasting our time here,” he said, his tone was threatening like a flaming fire. “If you don’t get on the suitcase right now I swear to God I––“
“SUITCASE IS NOT A FORM OF TRANSPORTATION!” Yachi snapped, desperately.
“YEAH BUT THE WHEELS ARE BETTER THAN YOUR LEGS!” Tsukishima too, was desperate.
He captured her by twining his arms around her waist. He lifted her up with no trouble. She let out a high-pitched screech, latching onto his sweater. He hauled her to the suitcase and settled her body down on the top of it. Her back was against the trolley-handle. He picked her duffle-bag from the ground and shoved it onto her lap. Before she could complain any further, he fastened both his grip around the handle, inclined the suitcase slightly, and pushed it forward in high speed.
Everything went by like a big whoosh of air. Yachi shriek in terror. She got one hand clenching onto the handle while the other supporting her duffle-bag. She miserably pleaded him for mercy but Tsukishima remained dashing and wouldn’t stop. Her skin could sense the stupefied and questioning stares that were shot by every other passengers they past across.
A group of tourist came to their view. At this moment, Yachi was screaming. “T-T-T-TSUKEESHEMA-KUN,” she fluffed her lines. “WE ARE GOING TO CLASH! WE’RE GOING TO CLASH YOU HEAR ME?!”
“WE CAN’T AFFORD SLOWING DOWN, YACHI-SAN!” Tsukishima answered, also screaming, but in rage. “SAY SOMETHING TO THEM! MAKE THE WAY!”
Yachi’s lips trembled as she sucked a vast gulp of air. “WE’RE SORRY! WE’RE SORRY! COMING THROUGH!” she hollered as they made their way over. She kept yelling many apologies even after they had passed the group. The tourists could only gaped at the duo as their figure vanished from the sight and Yachi’s howl faded by the distance.
Tsukishima wasn’t sure but he kind of discerned a security yelling at them. “Man, we’re so going to be blacklisted from Sendai Airport,” he said, his voice was breathy. “Tell sensei to book from Yamagata next time.”
“What are you talking about?” Yachi’s furrow deepened as she carefully looked at their behind. “Is that the security?” she gasped. “That is the security, isn’t it?”
“Probably, most likely, to be honest I don’t know,” Tsukishima replied. He tightened his grip and bent over a little more. “Close your mouth and do NOT scream, “ he said as he gained momentum and bolted onward. Yachi yelped, but quickly bit her lips.
It was positive that five minutes had passed since that last boarding call. Nevertheless, they had landed up at gate number sixteen now. A bit more. A little bit more. Tsukishima knew once he broke off his pace, his legs wouldn’t be able to move as fast. Part of him whispered that it was to late. The other told him he wouldn’t know until he made it to the finish. He listened to the latest.
Gate number seventeen. One more. Yachi shut her eyes tight, hiding her face behind her fingers. Tsukishima noticed how her mouth muttered a constant prayer. He chuckled at her action. As gate number eighteen entered into his picture, he brought his face closer to her ear. “See? I know, this is way faster than having you run,” he whispered.
Yachi opened her eyes slowly and peeked through her fingers. A giant sign on the wall. Gate number eighteen. She heard yell, crying out her name. The team hadn’t entered the plane yet. They were all waiting for their last two teammates. Daichi and Suga were begging at the aircraft crew to hold off. Takeda-sensei was on the floor doing seiza. Coach Ukai was a fuming mountain, ready to explode. Asahi was literally crying with noisy sobs, covering his snotty nose with a handkerchief. Ennoshita was trying to calm him down. Hinata and Nishinoya – as usual – were the one who yelled. Tanaka and Narita cheered in joy and relief, clapping their hands. Kageyama and Kinoshita were blown away with disbelief painted on their face.
“Am I hallucinating or Yachi is riding the suitcase in front of my eyes?” Kinoshita asked with lack of conviction in his tone.
“Yachi is riding a suitcase in my eyes too,” Kageyama responded in same tone.
“Holy sshh– Yachi is so riding the suitcase,” Tanaka hissed before he dissolved into roar of laughter. “Oi, Tsukishima!” he called out between his chortle. “What the heck are you guys doing?!”
“Ooooh! I want to try that too!” Hinata squealed, bouncing on his feet.
“Goddamn these kids!” Coach Ukai yelled. “I swear I’ve just aged three years in the last ten minutes!”
Tsukishima slowed down by degrees. His respiration was really loud. Yachi tilted her head to sneak a look at him. Blood had rushed to his usually-pale face. His hair slightly wet, some hair strands got stuck on his forehead. He removed his glasses and wiped his sweat off with the sleeve of this sweater. He caught Yachi staring when he set his specs back. Yachi sent him an exhausted smile.
“I can’t believe I just use suitcase as a form of transportation,” she said as she finally perched her feet on the ground. “That was terrifying, but worth it, at last.”
Daichi approached them to take the suitcase. “My gosh,” he said under his breath, now reassured. “I was scared to death that you guys wouldn’t make it since Yachi’s not good at running.” He glanced at the suitcase. “You guys came up with a great idea!”
“Great idea at the cost of my dignity,” Yachi deadpanned in which Daichi cracked up to.
“Great teamwork, anyway,” the captain said before he walked away.
Tsukishima and Yachi exchanged look. They realized how messed up their appearance was and they were still panting; cheeks tinted red, sweat streaming down their temple, shoulders bobbing up and down.
Tsukishima let out a long sigh as he straightened up. He faced Yachi and held both of his hands up. “Teamwork.”
Yachi’s face lit up. She held up both of her hands and slammed her palms to his.
“Teamwork!”