Chapter Text
I watch as you sweep your raven hair backwards before sitting down on your designated chair, shoulders slumped as always. Your mouth is twisted into a frown. Your uniform is messy, as if you had worn it in haste. You look like you do not care what anyone else in the room thinks, and you most likely do not.
Many people think you are angry. Many people think you have forgotten to do your homework, or have sprained your ankle in volleyball practice, or have had a falling out with your parents.
I know better. I have been watching you for the two years we have known each other, and I think you are handsome.
In the corner of my right eye, I see a transfer student stiffen in their seat next to yours.
His face is just like that, I want to scream at her. He's not really mad, he's just awkward.
But I smile at her instead, hoping to ease the discomfort you have caused her.
….
It starts on the twenty first of April. It is my first day of my first year at Karasuno, and everything is too bright and too loud. Everyone is so tall that it is overwhelming.
That is when I meet him.
He is a force of nature.
His bright and fluffy orange hair paired with his picture perfect teeth are lethal. They worm their way into the crevices of a person's heart, and no one can help but to simply adore him like he deserves.
"Hi! I'm Hinata Shouyou," he says. "Nice to meet you! Gwah! Is that a Hello Kitty purse? My sister has one of those too!"
I think I'm a little bit in love, I say in my head.
Of course, everyone else is too. Who could resist his bubbly personality and eager-to-please grin? Everywhere he goes, people gravitate towards him, captivated by his mere being. I know what they are thinking: How could anyone be this much of an angel?
I ask myself the same question.
…
It is the weekend of my first week as a first year. He has told me that it is also his first year at Karasuno, and it is purely by coincidence that we reunited that first day in our homeroom period. I am lying down at the foot of his bed, reading the third volume of sailor moon, and he is beside me, ranting about how much of an asshole you are.
"Can you believe him?" He asks, "what a selfish, self-righteous bastard!"
Privately, I agree with him. You sound like someone I would not like to meet at all. But I tell him to calm down, that maybe you are just bad at socializing, or that maybe you just had a bad day.
He frowns, ready to argue. But Natsu knocks and opens the door, telling us that dinner is ready.
I forget about you.
…
We meet at your interhigh tournament, in the climax of the summer heat. It is the third time he has invited me to come watch him play, but it is the first time my dad has allowed me to skip on piano lessons, after weeks of being persuaded by him. Once again, I think: he is a force of nature.
I am watching from the sidelines as your team stretches. He has gone to the bathroom, and my eyes subconsciously scan the room to find something to link him to.
My eyes land on you as you are twisting your neck to the side, and I think: Oh, so that's the asshole. You wear a scowl on your face, as I have now learned is always there when he is not with you, and your eyes are set into a deep glare.
It is not a good first impression.
But as I watch how you control the pace of the game, commanding the whole court and making the other team scramble to keep up, I dislike you a little less and admire you a lot more.
I watch as your glare turns focused and calculating, and your hands firmly push the ball towards the other members of your team. I watch as he flies and you deliver the ball to him, and I watch as you make him invincible.
You lose, and he is devastated, but I am still captivated by the way you and he had come together as one on the court.
He introduces me to you as his best friend, and I notice the way your scowl deepens when he says it. I force out a smile and a greeting and reach out for a handshake, and your hands hesitantly meet mine in the middle.
Your hands are warm.