Chapter Text
Sound comes from impact.
Ears are the link to hearing that sound. They turn the noise into something important. Sound is made on purpose, to communicate and get a point across. Or, as the saying goes, some people just like the sound of their own voice.
But there are some things that make sound without ever hearing it.
Take fireworks for example.
They’re loud, colorful, bright. The vibrations of their explosions can be felt from all the way down on Earth.
But fireworks will never hear their own sound. They explode right as the noise starts.
*********
Kuroo wasn’t used to a silent classroom. Usually the room was filled with chatter as students whispered about a new show they watched or a homework question. Kuroo wasn’t used to silence, but no one dared to speak as the new kid walked into the room.
“Alright class,” Takeda-sensei announced. “We have a new student joining us today. Yaku-san’s transferring to our class for the year.” Kuroo watched with perceptive eyes as the boy kept his gaze at the ground. The first thing he noticed was the fact that Yaku-san’s blonde hair was so choppy it looked like it had been cut by a 5 year old. He also had these weird things stuck in his ears.
“Would you like to introduce yourself?”
There was a long pause. No one dared to open their mouths. Kuroo waited. He glanced over at Tsukki, but he looked disinterested like always.
“Oh, um,” Takeda-sensei tapped the boy on his shoulder. He flinched the slightest bit, embarrassed. Kuroo watched as he unclipped his red backpack and pulled out a notebook labeled, ‘For Conversations.’ In front of him, Oikawa whispered, “What?” A few other students murmured in confusion.
Now Kuroo was really intrigued. What was this guy with the bad haircut going to do? Why wasn’t he introducing himself?
The boy opened his notebook. On it, there were words written in neat characters.
Nice to meet you. My name is Yaku Morisuke.
He flipped to the next page and held it out.
I hope to get to know everyone in this class. If you want to talk to me, please write in this notebook.
Kuroo felt his chest tighten in expectation as Yaku-san turned to another page and held it up to his head.
I can’t hear.
“What?”
“He’s deaf?”
“That’s sick.”
“How?”
“What happened to his ears?”
Deaf…
Deaf.
“Seriously?!” Kuroo shouted in surprise.
Takeda-sensei fixed him with a look as a few students giggled at his reaction. “Here, Yaku-san, you can go sit in front of Kuroo-san.” Yaku slid into the desk, fists clenched and eyes fixated on the polished wood floor.
“Watch people, Tetsu,” His mom had said to him once, after he had asked how she could always guess the haircuts customers wanted.
Was this guy really deaf?
How did he talk?
Why was he so upset?
“Watch and everything else will reveal itself.”
“Alright, now turn to page 23 in your science notebook. We’re going to talk about weather patterns today…”
* *
During lunchtime, people crowded around Yaku’s desk, which, annoyingly, happened to be in front of Kuroo’s. He moved to sit by Daishou, but Tsukki had stayed.
“Do…you…play…any…sports?” Oikawa asked slowly, bending down to write in Yaku’s precious notebook. Kuroo watched as Yaku nodded, his whole face lighting up.
“Oh, volleyball?” Oikawa exclaimed in his over-the-top way, perfect eyebrows shooting up. Kuroo stiffened. Volleyball was his thing.
Tsukki cupped a hand around his mouth. “Hey, Yaku-san, are you even tall enough to touch the bottom of the net?” Kuroo couldn’t help his smirk. Tsukishima just said things in such a condescending way, it was hard not to be amused.
Oikawa laughed a little, facing him. “Don’t be mean, Tsukki-kun. Not everyone’s blessed with your height.”
Yaku turned in his seat and handed Tsukki his notebook.
“Ah, no thanks,” Tsukishima muttered, eyes wide in that irritated-but-amused way. Yaku glared at him.
Oikawa jumped in to suffocate the tension. “So, what type of position do you like to play? You should consider joining our team. We don’t play in any tournaments, but-”
“KUROO!”
“Huh?” Kuroo spun around in his seat, cheeks burning in embarrassment.
“Earth to Kuroo the eavesdropper! Are you here with us down here?” Tendou wiggled one of his fingers in front of Kuroo’s face.
“If the conversation has to do with volleyball, he can’t not listen,” Daishou teased.
“Come on, that’s not true!” Kuroo protested. “I just thought the new guy was more of a soccer person.” He lowered his voice. “Let’s hope he doesn’t try to join the volleyball club though.”
Daishou clicked his chopsticks together in agreement. “Yeah, it’d be so much trouble to play with a deaf kid.”
“Mmm, I dunno. It could be fun,” Tendou’s lips curled up. Kuroo frowned at him, mad that he was disagreeing with him now, of all times.
“We don’t have time for fun, Tendou-kun; it’s our last year on Nekoma’s team.” Kuroo buried the heels of his tennis shoes into the floor. If any of his team got distracted with a new kid, one who was deaf and hard to work with, it would make this whole volleyball season a mess of miscommunication.
* *
Kuroo liked Science, he really did, honestly. He had signed up for the advanced classes for a reason. But physics might just be the worst unit to exist. Plus, he just couldn’t focus on the work today, distracted by anything and everything.
Maybe it was just the way Takeda-sensei said things that made Kuroo pay less attention to him and more to the world.
“Graphs recording the trajectory of an object have several important parts to keep in mind. This is the first,” Takeda-sensei turned to the board to start drawing an example.
Kuroo watched as Yaku turned his head back and forth, struggling to follow Takeda-sensei. Tsukki shifted in his seat, leaning forward to tap on Yaku’s shoulder. “Give me your notebook,” He said. Tsukki had been in a good mood all day. Apparently, (meaning according to Oikawa) his brother’s team had won another game in the local high school tournament.
“The peak of the graph shows us how high the ball will go before falling…”
Yaku brightened and handed his science notebook to Tsukki. He started writing down words rapidly. Kuroo admired Tsukki: he was good at school, so good, in fact, that he got moved up a grade.
“Our y-axis is where it starts.”
Tsukki gave Yaku his journal back and resumed taking his own notes. Minutes later, out of the corner of his eye, Kuroo saw Yaku pushing his notebook onto Tsukki’s desk. He begrudgingly took it, and Kuroo watched helplessly as Tsukishima’s good mood ebbed away with every stroke of pencil. He looked up to glare at Yaku, but the boy already had a frustrated expression on his face.
Kuroo couldn’t help feeling angry at him anyway.
* *
Two weeks into the start of the school year, and it was finally the first day of volleyball practice. The filtered sun shined through the gym windows, the excited chatter of the members fluttered to the high ceiling, and the sound of the squeaky-wheeled volleyball cart rolled through the P.E. building. Kuroo bounced on his toes, grinning. He was back on the court where he belonged. Plus, he was captain of the team this year and an older kid that everyone was going to be looking up to.
“Alright, alright, welcome back!” Coach Noai clapped his hands loudly. “Circle up.” Kuroo moved in closer, nudging Daishou, who gave him a smirk in reply. “I’m not going to get into new introductions, since the 2nd years aren’t joining the official team until May. I just want to say that this is going to be a great season of volleyball. I’ve even got us signed up for a mock tournament at the end of the year.” Kuroo’s mouth widened in untamable excitement. “We’re going to start practice with serves and receives. Get going.”
Kuroo got into the serving line next to Oikawa. “So how’s your jump serve going?” Kuroo asked, because he knew it was a touchy subject, and he enjoyed seeing Oikawa’s face sour.
“I’m still working on it, Kuro-chan. You’ll know when it’s perfected. It’ll be the best serve you’ll ever see,” Oikawa spun the volleyball in his hands with a grin.
“Oh ho ho? Is that a challenge?” Kuroo side-eyed him before tossing his volleyball into the air. He smiled when his hand hit it satisfyingly. Serving was tricky and hard to aim, but looked like it was going to go over the net this time. Before he could cheer, a blur raced forward and received it off kilter.
“What?” Oikawa screeched over dramatically, voice echoing around the gym. Yaku-san looked up, sweat dripping down his forehead. He glared at Kuroo, daring him, taunting him. The nerve of this guy and his awfully cut hair.
“What the heck? I didn’t even notice he was there,” Kuroo growled, not bothering to hide his irritation. Maybe it was petty, but he couldn’t help it.
“I mean, I did tell him about the club,” Oikawa muttered with a pout as he lifted his hand up to serve.
“My, my,” Tendou said in a cheerful tone. “This’ll be a fun year.”
Kuroo kept watching as Yaku-san ran around the court, trying to receive serves with an angry passion that was supposed to be reserved for people taking their last breath.
“What a weirdo,” Tsukki grumbled. “Why waste the energy? Here, Kuroo.” He felt the smooth surface of a volleyball being placed into his palm. “Don’t want to let the 5th years see their captain slacking off. Which you are doing, by the way.” Kuroo frowned at him, trying not to let Tsukki see just how upset he was. The first serve of the year, and it had been received by Yaku, the deaf kid who sat in front of him.
He started getting ready to serve again. When he looked up, he met Yaku-san’s eyes across the net. Kuroo watched Yaku smile smugly, and he felt peeved all over again. Not again. There was no way he was going to let this new guy ruin his volleyball season.
* *
While most people would view Kuroo’s friendship with Tendou and Daishou as less-than-friendly, teasing each other was just something that they did. No matter what they were doing, whether it was volleyball practice or lunch or, like right now, walking to their next class, one of them had some jab to say.
“Mika-chan was looking at you earlier today, Daishou,” Kuroo said with a leering smile, “during choir practice.”
“Wait, really!?” Daishou perked up. He turned a little pink. Sure, Daishou was a cunning jerk most of the time, but he had a soft spot named Mika Yamaka.
“Oh? You weren’t watching her like you normally do?” Tendou said in a patronizing voice.
“Well, choir practice was kind of a disaster,” Daishou said reluctantly. “Yaku-san starts at all the wrong times. And Oikawa’s dancing is kind of distracting.”
“Yeah,” Kuroo agreed. “I hate singing anyway though, so it’s fine. More time for volleyball if we don’t win, right?” Even as he said it, all he could think about was Tsukki’s condescending tone, and the way he shamelessly whispered, ‘There goes the choir contest.’
“It’s annoying to the people who like it. Maybe he should just lip-sync it?” Daishou suggested.
“Yeah, but there’s no cure for Oikawa’s dancing-”
“I’m so tired of writing things down for him. Takeda-sensei talks way too fast; I just can’t keep up.” Their conversation halted as Tsukki’s voice floated down the polished stairwell.
“Oh, you can borrow my notes!” Oikawa chirped.
Yaku-san. They were talking about Yaku, who, yet again, was bothering Tsukki.
It was bad enough that he followed the team around, always a few steps behind. It was bad enough that he never spoke and, instead, just watched people with those piercing brown eyes. And it was definitely plain bad that he kept pushing that annoying notebook towards anyone who opened their mouths.
He was weird.
All these things annoyed the crap out of Kuroo, but bringing down Tsukki in class just crossed the line.
Tsukishima let out a tired sigh. “Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Yeah, I am.” The soft sound of shoes on tile slowly faded away as Oikawa and Tsukki left. Kuroo didn’t dare to speak. He felt like he was simmering on high heat inside. Yaku just rubbed him the wrong way. Kuroo exchanged a look with Daishou.
“Oikawa’s dancing,” Tendou shamelessly whispered into the silence, which caused all of them to burst out laughing.
* *
“I’m going to get something sweet after school,” Tsukki announced after practice, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He sent Kuroo a meaningful look.
“Uh, enjoy it?” Kuroo hopped down the gym’s stone steps and onto the sandy ground. He still felt the satisfying ache of a good practice in his muscles. Kuroo knew the science behind building your muscles. He knew this meant he was going to get stronger.
Next to him, Daishou snickered. He elbowed Kuroo. “Yeah, enjoy it.” Kuroo glared at him, torn between confused and amused.
“Hey, I wanna come!” Oikawa yelled excitedly, bouncing on his toes. “I never get to go anywhere with my friends!”
“Oh, I wonder why,” Tsukki replied in a deadpan voice, not even trying to hide his displeasure.
Kuroo couldn’t help the hyena laugh that felt like it came straight from his stomach. (Technically, it came from his diaphragm, but whatever.)
Tsukki smiled at him the slightest bit and looked away. His eyes caught on Yaku, who was trailing behind as he handed his notebook to a kouhai, and his lips pulled down.
“So, what convenience store do you want to go to? My mom gave me 500 yen, so we can get a lot of candy!” Oikawa bragged, eyeing Tsukishima eagerly.
“Ooooh, 500 yen,” Tendou dragged the last syllable out before sticking his tongue out towards Oikawa.
“Gross,” Oikawa complained. Kuroo smiled at the antics. On court, they were serious, but outside of it was total chaos. Everything they did was for fun.
“Let’s go,” Tsukishima said suddenly.
“Huh? Why right away?” Kuroo asked, grin fading.
“Tsukishima-san’s right. I’ve got to get to cram school,” Daishou said, a look of horror crossing his face.
“See you later, guys. Bye-Bye, Yaku-san,” Tsukki said, but he barely spared Yaku a glance. Oikawa waved at them. They walked off towards the cross walk. It seemed like Oikawa was doing most of the talking, and Tsukki just ignoring him.
“Sooooooo, cram school,” Tendou sang, lips curling up mischievously at the scowl Daishou gave him.
“Cram school, huh? What, did your parents finally see how dumb you are?” Kuroo teased, trying to shake the strange feeling he got from Tsukki’s departure.
“Oh, shut up, Kuroo,” Daishou growled, storming away.
Tendou shrugged. “See ya.” He skipped down the sidewalk, leaving Kuroo alone. Well, not alone, alone.
Kuroo turned to Yaku, who was frowning as he shoved his notebook into his backpack. Yaku was so odd. He decided ignoring him would be the best option.
The setting sun soaked everything in orange. That meant Kuroo still had time to play at the park. His favorite piece of equipment was definitely the red jungle gym, so he headed there first. He put a foot on one of the bars and climbed up, up, up. There was just something about feeling the sun shine on your face that was so…satisfying.
Being on top of the monkey bars felt like seeing the view over the blocker’s finger tips. The jungle gym was the only thing that got even close to replicating that feeling.
Kuroo broke out of the trance when he felt the vibration of the iron bar in his grip. He turned to look at Yaku, who was smiling slightly. He had his eyes closed. Did that mean he couldn’t sense anything? If his ears didn’t work, when he closed his eyes, was his world sealed off? Kuroo felt frustration well up alongside his questions. He dropped down to the ground. Ignoring him wasn’t working.
Yaku climbed down the side of the monkey bars with trained steps. Kuroo looked up and saw the glimmer in his eyes. He was still gripping one of the bars with a tiny hand. Yaku turned to him, looking confused and a…a little happy? He felt the same weird feeling he did when Yaku tried to hand him his notebook.
The desire to listen. To communicate.
Unfortunately, there were a lot of things that made it impossible. “You know,” Kuroo started, “everyone’s getting tired of you and your weird journal.”
Yaku tilted his head. The sun outlined every inch of him, from his terribly cut hair, to his dirty tennis shoes, to the Band-Aids on his elbows and the plug things in his ears. It was hard to focus on the negative things about Yaku when his freckles were really distracting Kuroo. Freckles were the results of melanin.
A gift from the sun.
“L-look,” Kuroo started, hating the way his hands were shaking. “You might think you were impressive with those receives, but everyone’s tired of you slamming into them during practice. It’s going to drag the whole team down. I’ve worked too hard for you to flush it down the drain like this!”
Yaku was still smiling, apparently not understanding anything that Kuroo had just said. That just frustrated him more. Yaku pointed at Kuroo, and he tensed, thinking they were going to fight or something. He moved his finger to point to himself, clasped his hands together, and shook them once. “Frinends?”
Kuroo was so surprised to hear him speak- even if it was in that muffled voice- that he couldn’t respond for a moment.
“What? You-You,” Kuroo dug his fingers into the cold dirt. Who was this guy anyway? Acting as if they didn’t hate each other? Where was the sharp Yaku? The one who was easy to stay away from? “You’re a freak!” He threw the dirt, standing up in a rush. Yaku flinched, abandoning the clasped hands to raise them up and cover his face.
He wasn’t guilty. He wasn’t guilty. Kuroo stood up and ran home, not daring to look back.
For some reason, he felt like crying.
*