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“You’re doing this all wrong,” Shirabu sighs, sliding Goshiki’s notebook back to him. “Do I have to keep reminding you that you can bring the coefficient out of the integral?”
Goshiki stares down at his work, expression crestfallen, as he reaches for his eraser. “...Well! I knew that, I was just distracted while I did this question.”
“When are you ever not distracted?” Shirabu snorts in response, turning back to his own homework. “And stop being so prideful, you’re never going to get anywhere with that attitude.”
Urk. Goshiki winces, erasing his hard work (in which he definitely did not know he was supposed to take the coefficient out), as he nervously steals glances at Shirabu.
This is not going the way it was supposed to, he grumbles to himself as he stares at the bunched up numbers on his question sheet. He knows he has to suppress his prideful comments, but knowing and doing are two different things.
Ever since he had spotted Shirabu smiling - yes, smiling, and brightly at that, too - at Ushijima, he had been overcome with an unknown competitive feeling to achieve that goal himself. After all, as Shiratorizawa’s future ace, the first step is to earn the trust of the setter; and besides, Shirabu’s smile was rather pretty if he must admit, and he thinks it’s quite unfair that he only directs that smile to a select few people, Goshiki not included.
Hence, Project: Make Shirabu-san Smile At Me had commenced, but the first step in which they were supposed to have a bonding moment through studying together was obviously not progressing in any positive direction.
“Shirabu-san, can we take a break?” He asks meekly. His focus is starting to drift, having been staring at integrals for the past couple hours, and he’s desperately starting to regret his choice of events.
“Yeah, let’s go get coffee after I do one more question,” Shirabu replies flatly. Goshiki perks up immediately at that, having expected an instant shut-down from the elder, as he excitedly closes his book.
“Oh wait, I remember this question. Ushijima-san taught it to me. I guess we can go now, then.”
Goshiki furrows his eyebrows, eyes widening. “U-Ushijima-san taught you a math question?”
“Huh? Yeah,” Shirabu says, glancing at the other boy before getting up and reaching for his track jacket. “Ushijima-san is quite good at math, if you didn’t know. Hurry up, we don’t have all day.”
Goshiki hurriedly stuffs his keys in his pockets and follows Shirabu out the door, mind racing. Ushijima-san is good at math too? And he even taught Shirabu-san a question? Wait, is the reason Shirabu-san smiled at him because he’s good at math? Then that means that if I master all these questions…
“Shirabu-san! I’ll definitely make sure to finish all my homework when we get back!” He declares confidently, earning a skeptical glance from Shirabu.
“You have over 50 left and you work at a pace of one question per hour, there’s no way you’re finishing that today.”
Goshiki considers this. “Well, since we’re going to the cafe right now, as long as I get the extra large strawberry frappuccino to keep me going I’ll definitely be able to finish it! You’ll see how good at math I am.” He smiles proudly, opening the cafe door for Shirabu to enter.
“Is the strawberry frappuccino good?” Shirabu asks, walking inside.
“Yep! It’s my favourite drink of all time, and-”
Goshiki stops in his tracks, coming face-to-face with none other than Ushijima himself, sitting at the window seat right next to the entrance.
“Ushijima-san!” He exclaims, greatly taken aback. He did not expect to run into him at the cafe of all places, and especially not when he was undergoing the very task to make Shirabu smile at him the same way he had to the named one himself.
“Oh, Goshiki. Shirabu.” Ushjima nods at them from his seat, expression unchanging.
“Ushijima-san? What are you doing here?” Shirabu inquires, completely unaware of Goshiki’s current ongoing inner panic.
“I am waiting for Semi so that we can go buy our math textbooks together.”
“Oh, the one for the third year linear equations class? And what drink did you get?” Shirabu gestures towards the paper cup sitting in front of the third year.
“Yes, for the third year linear equations class. And this is just a regular black coffee, I do quite enjoy it sometimes.” Ushijima replies, proceeding to take a large sip of the drink.
“Could I take a look at the textbook later? I’ll drop by your dorm. And I see, maybe I’ll get that as well.”
Everything about this situation irks Goshiki. From the way they’re talking about some third year math textbook and making plans to see each other later to the mention of black coffee that he just can never seem to swallow down, it all feels like untouched territory for him, and he can’t help but feel like he’s been left behind in one way or another. He knows it’s stupid to constantly compare himself to the upper year students, but how can he not, when he’s been entrusted with the position of a first year regular on the team? Or, more importantly, how can he not compare himself when Shirabu never smiles at him the same way he does to Ushijima? Every time he finds something that he thinks he can do well in, Ushijima is already ahead of him, impossible to catch up to. It frustrates him to no end, and even more so because he knows that he will never be able to reach those standards, despite his consistent declarations that he will.
No, he thinks angrily to himself, turning around and marching towards the employee taking orders, I’m not giving up my mission here.
“Could I get one large black coffee?” He announces loudly, making sure that the two upper years heard him, as he pulls out his card from his wallet.
Now, he absolutely despises the bitter taste of coffee, and sure, he has never successfully been able to chug down a single cup of it, but he will prove to Shirabu that he can drink it just as well as Ushijima.
A stupid competition? Call it whatever you want, he thinks heatedly, tapping his card on the machine, but I’ll come out of this as the winner this time.
“I thought you were going to get the strawberry frappuccino,” Shirabu says when Goshiki returns, expression full of pomposity, black coffee in hand.
“Well, I do treat myself to a cup of dark coffee sometimes!” Goshiki asserts, glancing at Ushijima as he announces his next words. “And especially today, since I need it to finish my math questions with Shirabu-san!”
“I see, good luck.” Ushijima replies, nodding slightly.
This almost riles Goshiki up, but he reminds himself to not let it get to him, since he’ll be the one that Shirabu smiles at the most after this anyway. Shirabu looks at him disapprovingly, but Goshiki doesn’t pay it much attention as he brings the cup to his lips.
Well, if I want to beat Ushijima-san, then there’s only one way to do it. Goshiki starts to chug the drink, taking a massive gulp of it, when he realizes it’s way too hot for that. His reflexes kick in almost immediately after the first sip, his entire body recoiling as his fingers lose grip of the cup for a second, spilling a fair amount of the steaming coffee all over his left hand. He lets out a small squeak at the pain, Shirabu and Ushijima’s eyes widening at the sight in front of them.
“Goshiki, what the hell-” Shirabu starts, snatching the cup away from the younger boy and placing it on a flat surface near them as he grabs his hand and inspects it. It’s extremely red, and Goshiki whimpers from the pain. Ushijima immediately gets up and runs over to an employee, asking them if Goshiki can run his hand under cold water.
Shirabu drags him to the sink behind the register, shoving his hand under as Goshiki sighs in relief. After a few seconds, when the pain is no longer overriding the rest of his thoughts, Goshiki stays silent in embarrassment and shame as Shirabu retrieves a bag of ice from the worker and takes him back to his dorm room.
They sit down, Goshiki’s head hung low as he presses the cold source heavily against his hand, unable to meet the other boy’s eyes.
“Does it still hurt?”
“Um, no, it’s okay now,” he quietly replies, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to stop his voice from shaking.
“Alright then, wait here, I’ll be right back. Keep doing the ice massage,” Shirabu sighs, walking out of the room, leaving Goshiki by himself.
He stares at his pathetically closed math notebook and the bag of ice pressed against his hand, and tears start running down his cheeks.
He knows how stupid that was, attempting to chug down a freshly made hot drink. He knows how much of an inconvenience he just caused Shirabu, and Ushijima as well. He knows he can’t drink black coffee like Ushijima does, nor can he ever be on the level to help Shirabu with a math question. He knows he’s lying to himself whenever he says he’ll beat Ushijima. Lies to hide away his deep-rooted insecurities, his incompetence, and his jealousy for Shirabu’s admiration.
His competitiveness is annoying, has always been annoying to many others, but when he lets those prideful words slip his tongue, performs those boastful actions, it almost feels like he’s actually that person. It almost feels like he might actually be able to surpass Ushijima in something, or that he might actually earn praise from Shirabu, or that he’s actually not as small as he feels on the inside.
It’s pathetic. Embarrassing. Shameful. He’s truly pitiful, going to such far ends for some stupid competition that he could never win in the first place. He’s ruined everything, as always, letting nonsensical jealousy overcome him. All he wanted was to see Shirabu’s smile again, but directed towards him this time, and now Shirabu was probably ridiculously angry at him, likely out for a walk to cool his head as to not murder him on the spot or something of the sort.
He thinks he should just gather his stuff and leave. There’s no way he was going to be able to do 50 math questions today in the first place, anyway.
That thought makes the tears come even more, and Goshiki silently wishes that Shirabu doesn’t come back for another hour wherever he is, so that he can compose himself again. He had already embarrassed himself enough.
Unfortunately, Shirabu returns about five minutes later, keys turning the lock, and Goshiki aggressively wipes his tears with the back of his non-injured hand. He doesn’t even look at him, eyes glued to the carpet floor.
Shirabu sits down in front of him and pushes something towards him across the desk. Goshiki glances slightly up, and his eyes land on a strawberry frappuccino.
“Here, drink this and stop crying so that we can talk.”
Goshiki stares at the drink with a dumbfounded expression. “U-um, what is this?”
“What do you think it is?” Shirabu snaps. “Stop asking stupid questions and drink it.”
Goshiki doesn’t want to annoy Shirabu any more than he already has, so he listens to him and takes a sip of the drink. It’s sweet, he thinks, and his tears threaten to spill over once more.
“Here, let me have a sip,” Shirabu demands after a few minutes of silence, holding out his hand.
“Oh, uh, should I go get an extra straw-”
“No. Just give it to me.”
Goshiki does as told, and he quickly turns his eyes away when Shirabu places his lips on the same straw that he drank out mere seconds ago.
Calm down Tsutomu. It’s just a straw. Just a straw, Goshiki tells himself as he feels heat creep up onto his face.
Shirabu places the drink back down on the desk. “It’s good, I can see why it’s your favourite.”
“It is, right?!” Goshiki’s eyes light up at the miniscule praise for a short bit, until he remembers the entire ordeal that even brought them to this situation. He immediately pipes back down.
“I see you’re back to life now,” Shirabu remarks flatly, leaning back on his arms. “Good, because we need to have a conversation. What is going on, Goshiki? I always knew you were dumb, but this is a whole other level.”
“I-I’m terribly sorry, Shirabu-san,” Goshiki starts, eyes clenched, bracing for whatever the elder is about to say.
“I didn’t ask for an apology, I asked what’s going on.”
Goshiki’s eyes dart back and forth between his hands placed on his lap and the floor, unsure of how to explain his pathetic reasoning. “U-um…”
“Talk or I kick you out of my room.”
“I-I got jealous of Ushijima-san!” He blurts out, ignoring the pain in his left hand caused by the clenching of his fists. “I got jealous because -”
Goshiki glances at Shirabu who simply raises an eyebrow, urging him to keep talking.
“B-because you never smile at me like you do at him,” Goshiki whispers, his voice falling pitifully.
For the first time in this entire conversation, Shirabu seems taken aback. “Like when?”
“Like… like that time he got a perfect spike in during our last practice match,” Goshiki mutters. This is quite painfully embarrassing to admit.
Shirabu ponders this for a second. “Okay, well, yeah. You can’t spike like he does.”
Urk! Goshiki flinches. He knows that much better than anyone else.
“So you’re trying to become everything that Ushijima-san is?”
“Huh?” Goshiki stares at the second year, eyes blinking. “Well, I do need to become as good as him if I want to earn-”
“Even if I would never do something like this to him?”
Goshiki doesn’t have the time to properly process what Shirabu just said, because all of a sudden the upper year is leaning across the desk, grabbing Goshiki gently by the collar of his sweater, pulling him close. Their faces are maybe an inch apart, and Goshiki feels like his heart just stopped.
“Do you still want to be Ushijima?”
Shirabu is whispering, and Goshiki can feel his warm breath blow onto his lips, and he’s staring into his pretty brown eyes, and it’s almost like his entire brain shut down because it takes him much longer than intended to reply.
“N-no,” he lets out, and almost immediately Shirabu’s lips are on his. His lips are so soft and warm, and he tastes just a tiny bit like the strawberry frappuccino, and he smells extremely nice and cozy up-close like fresh laundry, and Goshiki can feel Shirabu’s grip on his collar loosen and his hands travel to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and he feels like he’s going to faint.
Except he doesn’t, because Shirabu pulls away a couple seconds later, looking away and clearing his throat. Goshiki just gapes at him, face flushed red.
“Shirabu-san-”
“Ushijima-san is much more talented than you are. He can hit spikes better, he can serve better, and he can receive better. He’s definitely better at studying than you are, and he’s miles more mature than you. He dresses better than you, and he actually knows how to stay composed. But,”
Goshiki thinks that Shirabu’s face is slightly tinted pink, but he can’t say for sure, because his mind feels extremely fuzzy right now.
“But Ushijima-san doesn’t open doors for me all the time like you do. He doesn’t tell me stupid stories when we eat together. He doesn’t come to me for homework help, and he doesn’t beg me to give him a few tosses after practice like you do. His eyes don’t sparkle when he talks, and he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve like you. So stop pursuing ridiculous competitions, trying to be like him.”
“Shira-”
“I smile at a lot of people. But I don’t do what I just did to anyone but you.”
Shirabu turns away after that last sentence, leaving Goshiki to process all of that.
Is Shirabu-san not mad at me? After I pitifully spilled coffee all over myself? Wait no, more importantly, did he just kiss me? Or did I imagine it? I kind of want to do it again - nonono, that’s not it! I just want to make sure I’m not imagining things! Can I? Is that okay?
“Shirabu-san!” Goshiki exclaims after a few minutes, “c-can we do that again?!”
“Wha - no!” Shirabu yells as he whips around, face radiating a bright red. But Goshiki has already moved seats, sitting right in front of him now, eyes wide with a huge blush layered over his cheeks.
“J-just once more? And then I’ll do my math questions, I promise!”
“I - fine,” Shirabu mutters, “but we’re going back to integrals right after.”