Chapter Text
“We’ll be okay, Wooseokie, you’ll see.”
Kim Wooseok sighed as he watched his teammates slip into their uniforms and start stretching.
It was the last tournament of the year, the last chance their team had to make some sort of name for themselves. They’d been training hard all year for this, especially after the winter tournament had seen them going back to their school after only one match empty handed and ashamed of carrying the responsibility of the male volleyball team. They’d made up their minds then, that no matter what, they were going to bring a trophy back to their school.
Wooseok couldn’t even count how many hours of sleep and studying they had lost, desperate to prove themselves. They’d trained until their legs couldn’t carry their weight anymore, until their arms had gone numb from getting hit by volley balls and they were covered in sweat from head to toe. All to lead them to this day, this very moment.
He stared down at the walking boot around his leg, resisting the urge to both cry and rip it off in frustration.
Three weeks ago, he had sprained his ankle, and the doctor had told him that he was not to do any strenuous activity for at least six weeks, which meant no volleyball, no tournament. The worst thing was that it hadn’t even happened during a training session, but when he had been running to catch the bus to school. He had cursed himself for his stupidity for days, with his teammates desperately trying to reassure him that everything was going to be alright, that they would practice with him in mind and think about him during the tournament.
It had done nothing to improve his mood, but he had at least accepted it, weeks later. That’s why he felt a pang of jealousy as he watched the boys in their blue and white uniforms get ready for their first match of the day.
“I should be standing on the court with you,” he said, sadly.
“Hey, none of that,” Woojin reassured him, “You’ll be moral support. God knows we could really use someone cheering us on from the bleachers.”
It was a little sad, how their own school had given up on them. Most, if not all, other high school teams in Seoul had earned some sort of achievement at some point, except for them. Wooseok remembered joining the team a year ago with Seungwoo and Seungyoun, all three of them enthusiastic about turning the tables and showing everyone else that it didn’t matter that they didn’t come from a legendary school, that they could still beat top teams, only to find out that no one believed in them anymore.
The only thing that had hurt more was when he’d seen Yohan and Hangyul go through the exact same thing the year after.
The older club members had welcomed them warmly, it wasn’t their fault in the slightest. And that was why Wooseok was so disappointed that he wouldn’t get to play with them one last time before they graduated. They’d treated them so well, it was the least he could do.
“I just really wanted to play with you again,” he muttered, but Jihoon heard him.
“And we want you to take care of your injury,” he scolded the younger, “We’ll be just fine. Daehwi will cover for you and we’ll do our best.”
“I want to be useful, though,” Wooseok sighed.
“I mean, if you want to do something so badly,” Seungyoun said, smirking, “You can refill our water bottles.”
“I never said that I wanted to be your minion,” Wooseok rolled his eyes, “Just that I wanted to play in the game as a member of the team.”
“Team members help each other out,” Hangyul said, “And I need help filling my water bottle.”
“Fine,” the shorter boy groaned and let his team members give him their water bottles. He noticed Seungyoun and Hangyul high-five each other behind his back and made a mental note to spit in theirs before he returned them.
He left the changing room and went in search of the nearest drinking fountain. He thought that he remembered seeing one on their way not that long ago, and he really hoped that he wasn’t wrong.
---
He was wrong, very wrong in fact.
Apart from the fact that Wooseok had never been to that particular gymnasium, he also didn’t have the best navigation skills. It also didn’t help that most of the students and coaches who were walking down the same corridors as him were a lot taller than him or just too enwrapped in some sort of conversation to notice him. He had already tried asking for directions, and that had gotten him nowhere. At that point he was just hoping he would make it back to the changing room on time before any matches began.
Just then, he saw an open door. It didn’t take him long to figure out that it was a bathroom, and he almost walked away before the temptation kicked in.
Yes, the thought of toilet water was disgusting enough on its own, but it wasn’t all the water from a bathroom that was disgusting, right? Just the one that came from the actual toilet. Tap water, on the other hand, was pretty clean. He’d seen people run straight to the bathroom and turn the tap on, gulping down water at the speed of light, after a match, and nothing had happened to them. Besides, the guys didn’t have to know the water had come from the bathroom, it could be a dark secret that he would take to the grave.
He decided that he was a horrible human being, and started walking towards the bathroom, when a body crashed into him, sending them both to the ground and causing Wooseok to drop all the water bottles he’d been carrying.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” the person who had caused the disaster said, starting to pick up the bottles before they rolled away.
Wooseok would have helped, but he had landed on his bad leg, and was in severe pain, so he just grit his teeth and tried not to let his frustration show.
“Oh my God you’re hurt!” the other boy exclaimed, panicked, “I’m so sorry. Do you need a doctor? Can I help?”
“I’m fine,” Wooseok managed to say, “Just landed a bit badly.”
“I’m still really sorry,” the other kept apologising, standing up and offering his hand to help Wooseok up, which only resulted in him dropping some of the bottles he’d tried so hard to pick up and carry on his own.
Before he could start apologising again, Wooseok picked them up and got up on his own. “It’s okay,” he reassured the other, “It was just an accident.”
He let himself take a good look at the boy in front of him.
He was taller than him by quite a bit, with a strong build which suggested that he was an athlete, or at least exercised quite often. And judging by the fact that the only tournament the gymnasium was hosting that day was the volleyball one, he must be a player for one of the schools participating.
Contrasting his body shape, the boy’s features made him look kind and friendly, a look of worry evident on his face as he stared at the boot around Wooseok’s leg. He looked quite handsome, even making the smaller boy’s heart skip a beat when he saw him.
“Thank you for your help,” he said, offering to take the rest of the bottles so that he could get them filled and back to his team.
The other boy figured out what he wanted to do and shook his head. “I’m not letting you do this on your own,” he said, “You’re hurt and besides, I have to make up for running into you.”
“You don’t, it’s fine,” Wooseok argued, “I’m not that hurt either. I can carry a few water bottles.”
He hated people seeing him as weak or incapable of doing things just because of his injury, so the other’s words frustrated him. He’d always been one of, if not the shortest member in his volleyball teams, and was often targeted as the weakest player because of it, so that had created a strong will to prove himself inside of him.
However, sometimes it lead to him being too defensive in situations where he didn’t need to be, just like this one.
The other boy looked a little taken aback by his behaviour, and Wooseok felt guilty. He’d only wanted to help, there was nothing wrong with that.
“Sorry,” he said, admitting that he was in the wrong, “I was rude when I didn’t need to be.”
“It’s alright,” the boy forgave him, “I guess we’re even now.”
“I suppose we are,” Wooseok agreed and smiled.
“I still don’t mind helping you, though,” the boy insisted, “You probably have to be somewhere and I’m just hanging around.”
“I’m just looking for a water fountain,” Wooseok said, deciding not to mention the fact that he had been about to give his teammates bathroom water.
“Oh, there’s one just near the entrance,” the boy exclaimed, “It’s not too far. I can show you if you want.”
Wooseok agreed, and the two of them made their way through the gymnasium, the taller boy leading the way.
He’d been right, the water fountain wasn’t very far away and Wooseok felt relieved to finally be able to accomplish what he’d set out to do. He was sure that his teammates would tease him for taking too long when he got back, so he started thinking of an excuse they would believe. Running into a cute boy and getting distracted in front of a bathroom definitely didn’t sound convincing enough.
The other boy did help him fill all the water bottles and even offered to walk him all the way back to the changing room, making Wooseok feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. The boy was becoming increasingly charming as time went by and Wooseok was beginning to worry that he might just develop a puppy crush on him after barely ten minutes of knowing him.
Only Wooseok entered the room, handing each of the boys their bottle, telling Seungyoun and Hangyul that he’d spit in theirs for causing him to get lost while looking for a fountain, to which they only laughed. At least the others seemed a bit more grateful.
Their coach, a bored gym teacher who usually just told them to do their thing during practice hours while he smoked and scrolled through his phone, knocked on the door almost immediately after and told them that they should get ready for their first game, instructing Wooseok to go to the audience’s seats, since he couldn’t sit on the bench if he wasn’t going to play.
He hated being reminded of that, but he agreed, wishing his team members good luck and hugging them all individually and leaving with a final ‘fighting!’ shout.
To his surprise, the other boy was still outside the room when he left. He had expected him to go back to his team, but here he was, leaning against the wall and typing on his phone. As soon as he heard the door open, he looked up and put his phone away when he saw Wooseok come out.
“All good?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Wooseok nodded, “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
“How come?” the boy asked.
“I uh,” Wooseok stuttered, “I assumed you must be a volleyball player, so you might be in one of the teams playing today.”
“I am,” the boy nodded, “I’m not playing today though.”
“Oh,” Wooseok said surprised.
“My brother wouldn’t let me,” the boy provided a bit more context, which only confused Wooseok further.
“Is your brother your coach?” he asked.
“In a way,” the boy replied, “You could say that he is.”
Wooseok decided not to pry any further, since it was obvious that he was uncomfortable talking about it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t Wooseok’s business and he respected that the other might want to keep it to himself.
“Should we go then?” the boy asked, gesturing towards the entry of the gym, “Unless you want to go alone.”
“No, I don’t mind going with you,” Wooseok was quick to argue. Call him lame, but this boy was cute and sweet, he wasn’t going to let go of him that easily.
They didn’t talk while they left the changing room area and entered the gym, crossing the courts and heading for the bleachers. The mere sight and smell of the room made Wooseok ache to play again, he really couldn’t wait for his ankle to get better.
They picked seats at the front row, so that they could have a good view of everything.
“So you’re here to support your school?” the boy asked Wooseok once they had made themselves comfortable.
“No,” Wooseok answered, “I’m in the team. I just can’t play because… Well, I think you can tell why.”
He could tell why the boy would think that he was at the game just for support, so he didn’t take those words to heart too much. He was, after all, the only person from their school who was there apart from the team themselves (some of the past members of the team had wanted to come but had been unable to due to busy schedules and university), and he was also shorter compared to most players and not dressed in a uniform to show that he was a part of a team. He had tried to blend in a bit by wearing a royal blue sweater which matched the colour of their school, though.
“Oh, sorry,” the boy quickly apologised, “I didn’t mean to assume again.”
“It’s alright,” Wooseok said, “Appearances can be deceiving.”
The two shared a look and laughed at his comment.
Wooseok’s expression quickly turned serious as he saw his team walk through the doors, as well as other boys from other schools. Within seconds the gymnasium filled with the colours of each team’s school uniform, making the atmosphere cheerful, despite the competitive spirit each team was giving off.
The cheer teams for each school started shouting slogans and encouraging words, all of them blending into one sound.
Wooseok stood up and yelled his team’s name, causing them to look up and wave at him with huge smiles on their faces. He waved back.
“Fighting!” he shouted as loudly as he could. He knew that it probably wouldn’t even reach their ears, but he wanted to do something for them if he wasn’t going to play.
He turned and saw the boy who was sitting next to him smiling fondly. He knew that he should feel embarrassed for going into cheerleader mode in front of someone he was, to a certain extent, trying to impress, but he really loved his team and wanted them to do well. He knew that they were worth a lot more than their school thought of them and he prayed that they would get to show that this time.
“What position so you play?” the boy next to him asked.
“I’m the setter,” Wooseok answered.
The boy looked impressed. “The setter is an important part,” he said, “You have to know about the team well and coordinate everyone with the leader.”
“I know,” Wooseok said, “I’ve been with some of my teammates for two years now and some for one, but I still feel like we’re a great team. We communicate well and I try to help them as much as I can. Daewhi-hyung was the main setter before me and he’s the one playing today, and he taught me really well. I hope I can be like that too someday. What about you?”
“I’m a wing spiker,” the boy replied, but just like talking about his brother, he looked like he didn’t want to elaborate any more than that, leaning back and looking down instead of at Wooseok, so the shorter boy didn’t push him to do so.
It was at that moment that the referee blew his whistle and Guanlin served first for their team. Wooseok turned away from the boy, his gaze fixed on his team, fists clenched around the metal bar in front of the stands. “Come on,” he muttered, “Come on.”
They won their first game, and Wooseok’s voice went hoarse momentarily from cheering so loudly, yelling their names and bouncing lightly without jumping properly so he wouldn’t hurt his ankle, probably gathering more attention than any of the cheer teams were, but he didn’t care because he was so happy for them. They’d already gotten further than the winter tournament and he hoped this victory could give them the willpower to move and progress even further.
His team gathered in a big group hug, jumping around in circles without breaking it to celebrate. They had to be ushered off the court by the referees so that the next game could take place.
Wooseok may have spilled some fond tears, but no one needed to know that.
His anxiety returned when the next game started. The boy he’d met was still with him, this time standing next to him and leaning over the metal bar as he watched the game.
Wooseok didn’t know that team well, but he did know that they were a fairly well-known one. They were from Bonyang High School, a rather prestigious private high school, which wasn’t that far from Wooseok’s school. Because of their location, the two schools had a history of being rivals. He hadn’t played against them, his team had always been sent home before getting to, but he remembered old members like Daniel and Seongwu saying that they had and that they had been a very strong team and very hard to beat. He was a little disappointed that he didn’t get to play against them himself this time, but at least he could observe them and see if he could figure any techniques out that they could incorporate into their practices.
Hangyul served first this time, and the game began.
Straight from the get-go it was obvious that the Bonyang team was a lot more experienced than theirs. They could easily predict their moves, even when Wooseok’s teammates tried to distract them and fake attacks. Their spikers were powerful, and their serves precise, never hitting the net or landing outside the court. They won the first set easily, and Wooseok hoped that it hadn’t killed his team’s spirit.
Twenty-two minutes later, Bonyang High School scored 25 points on the second set and won the game.
There was nothing Wooseok could say against them, they’d won fairly, and they’d been good players with lots of experience. That didn’t mean that the loss hadn’t left a bitter taste in his mouth though. He’d wanted his team to win and go far more than anything, and it sadly wasn’t going to happen.
He watched as his team members shook hands with the Bonyang boys with sad expressions, congratulating them on their win, and made their way back to the changing rooms.
He turned around to say goodbye to the boy he’d met and who had kept him company because he wanted to go to his team as soon as possible.
“You should go to them,” the boy said before Wooseok had had the chance to utter a single word.
“Thank you,” he replied, “I hope your team goes well.”
“Thanks,” the boy said, “You guys played very well.”
They bowed to each other and turned around, each one going his own way.
Wooseok wasn’t sure what he was going to find when he entered his team’s changing room, but it certainly wasn’t the awkward silence that had engulfed all ten boys inside, including himself. They all looked up when they heard the door open, their faces expressionless but they eyes betraying their sadness.
“You did so well, guys,” he said softly, almost inaudibly.
That was all it took for them to break.
In a matter of seconds, all ten of them were hugging, not caring about how they were sweaty and smelled, holding one another close with tears streaming down their faces and clutching one another’s jerseys as if their lives depended on it.
“You really were great,” Wooseok repeated as he struggled to form words through his crying.
“I’m so sorry you couldn’t play with us, Seokie,” Jinyoung sobbed as he buried his nose in Wooseok’s hair, “It really felt like something was missing.”
“I can’t believe we won’t get to play together again,” Guanlin said, letting Jihoon hug and comfort him.
“It can’t be over,” Seungwoo cried, “We wanted to give you a trophy to hold. You were the best hyungs to us and we wanted to give you something in return.”
That made Seungyoun cry even harder and Wooseok hugged Jinyoung tighter. What Seungwoo had said was true, they had wanted to show their hyungs how much they meant to them ever since they’d joined the team and been welcomed so warmly by them. The three of them had set it as a goal after they had said goodbye to Minhyun, Seongwu, Jaehwan and Daniel the previous year. And now Jihoon, Woojin, Jinyoung, Daehwi and Guanlin were also leaving and they would have nothing to remember their team by. Wooseok really felt regret at that moment.
“We don’t need anything,” Daehwi said, shaking his head, “Just knowing that you guys are happy and enjoyed being on the team with us is an honour.”
“You were such amazing hyungs,” Seungyoun said.
“You taught me so much,” Yohan cried, trying to wipe away some of his tears, “I’ll never forget that. I was so useless when I came to the team and just being able to play today was unbelievable.”
“Oh, Yohanie,” Woojin ran to the younger boy and pulled him into a hug, “You’ve improved so much! I couldn’t even recognise you on the court today.”
“All of you played so well,” Jihoon said, pulling away from his hug with Hangyul to look at all of the second and first-year boys, “I’m so proud of all of you. You’ve come so far and improved so much since we first met. I’m sorry we couldn’t do more as a team for you, but at the same time I’m happy to be leaving such capable players and hyungs for the next team members. I don’t care about trophies and medals, the only thing I want you to promise me is that you’ll take care of them when the time comes and that you’ll teach them well. Can you do that for us?”
The younger boys all nodded, fresh tears pouring out of their eyes.
“Then I’m satisfied,” Jihoon said to them, smiling.
“Let’s have a round of applause for our leader!” Hangyul shouted, and the changing room erupted with loud clapping and cheering, Jihoon blushing in the middle of it.
“Thank you for letting me lead you,” he said, “It’s been one of the best years of my life. And I’ll leave you in good hands. I hope you’ll lead your team well… Han Seungwoo!”
Jihoon announced the leader he’d picked to go after him just like Jisung had the year before, and just like him, Seungwoo hadn’t seen it coming and was obviously surprised.
“Me?! Really?!” he exclaimed.
“Another round of applause for our new leader!” Wooseok shouted.
Once again, they celebrated with cheers and excitement, the tears of sadness giving way to smiles and laughs as the boys savoured their last moments as a team.
While they were in that changing room, it didn’t matter that they hadn’t won. They’d made so many memories together and set an example for the next team to follow. There were countless moments that they knew they would never forget, and that was what mattered most.