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I don’t need to change the world
He never stood out much.
Shibayama was always in the dark, whether it was the overwhelming shadow of Yaku’s talent as a libero or his own doubts hovering over him like a ink-black rain cloud. As part of Nekoma’s team, he was constantly ‘unseen’- Whether it was because he was bench-warming or being muted out due to the contrast between his talent and the other first years’.
To their opponents, Inuoka was the great first-year blocker with excellent speed and instincts- Lev was that super tall guy, who was albeit a little inexperienced- And Shibayama was just... Shibayama. In fact, his opponents would probably only know him as the back-up libero that they could target to gain easy points.
But to you?
He was more than just Shibayama.
To you, he was Yuuki, your precious, shy boyfriend who adored you with all his heart and did everything in his power to give you the world.
I’ll make the moon shine just for you, he promised himself, still unable to comprehend how an average guy like him managed to earn an absolute queen like you. I’ll make the starlight circle the room, he swore.
And if you feel like night is falling
The first time he heard you cry was at 12pm, when your world was collapsing right before your eyes, your arms too weak to hold up to crushing weight of the sky that threatened the life that you knew. The approaching storm that you knew as a divorce hung over your head, the noose around your neck growing more taunt as sand continued to steadily trickle into the bottom half of the hourglass.
I wanna be the one you’re calling
The moment he heard you heart-wrenching sobs over the phone, he was wide awake, despite the time reading near-midnight on his clock. “I’ll be there in five,” He told you hurriedly, yanking on a pair of track pants and the first jacket he saw- His scarlet volleyball jacket. “Stay on the phone with me, okay?”
“Cause I believe you can lead the way.” You whispered, tears dripping down your cheeks onto your pillows when you screamed at the thunder-like banging of the front door as your father walked off from the argument that threatened your parents’ marriage.
I just want to be somebody to someone, oh
Shibayama gritted his teeth, willing his legs to endure through the burning of lactic acid in his muscles. His footsteps pounded on the pavement like the drum pounding in his heart. He didn’t have to be the best libero. He didn’t have to be the player that the crowd cheered for. He just needed to be the one that could wipe off the tears dripping down your cheeks.
I want to be somebody to someone, oh
You were still on the call with him, your soft cries a throbbing ache in his heart as he tried to find a way to climb up the wall into your bedroom window.
“I never had nobody and no road home,” You murmured sadly in between the hiccups that clogged your throat and caught your breath in an inescapable net.
I wanna to be somebody to someone, Shibayama thought to himself, ignoring the pain that flared through his fingers as he tried to find any grip at all on the rough brick walls of your house.
And if the sun's upset and the sky goes cold
“It’s going to be okay,” His voice shook as he tried to hold on to the wall, his fingers bleeding from the sharp edges on your wall that kept insisting that he give up. “I promise, it’s going to be okay.”
Then if the clouds get heavy and start to fall
“I really need somebody to call my own,” You mumbled, your sobs having softened with Yuuki’s voice in your ear.
“I just need to be somebody to someone.” He gritted, bearing the pain that seared through his fingertips. His foot slipped as it searched blindly for something to use as a step, and for a moment he was really grateful that he had chosen to wear track pants before he ran out.
“Yuuki?” You murmured, pushing the glass of your window open. He smiled at you shakily, yelping as he almost fell. “Oh my god, Yuuki, take my hand.” Your arm reached out as far as it could, Shibayama taking a leap of faith to let go of his grip on the wall to grace your smooth hand with his bleeding, scratched ones.
The two of you sat in silence on the floor of your bedroom as you dabbed at his scratched hands with a piece of cotton, Yuuki restraining his pained hisses as his skin throbbed.
“That was stupid.” You scolded lightly, the pain that dwelled inside your heart forgotten as you fussed over his wounds. “You could’ve just asked me to open the front door!”
I wanna be somebody to someone
He laughed nervously, wincing when you pressed a particular spot on his hand. “I... Wasn’t thinking straight.” He admitted, happy about the fact that tears were no longer streaming down your cheeks.
Somebody to you
The abrasions on his hand were all worth the fact that you weren’t crying anymore, Shibayama thought. He was never going to be the best libero. He was never going to be player that the crowd cheered for. He was never going to be a perfect boyfriend.
But he was somebody to you,
And that was good enough.
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