Chapter Text
When he was twelve and in his first volley match, all he cared about was winning. Despite only being a substitute for that one volley for that one serve, he thought he was everything. At that moment, he believed he would be the game-changer; he believed that he would be the hero. Not wanting to sit on the bench anymore, he made sure to make a name for himself, so he needed to land this shot. He wanted to be that one miracle, that diamond in the rough.
The ball given to him was big compared to his hands. Bringing the ball to his lips, he blew on it. It was just superstition, he was told that time and time again, yet he believed it would bring him good luck. He walks over to the line, standing one or two feet behind the white tape. He stares into the opponents' eyes through the net and he tosses the ball into the air. The ball takes momentum and spins and at the same time, he raises his hand—
—and he forgets to hit the ball.
Embarrassing, but normal for someone in their first match. The referee calls for a fault and he'd permitted another try at the serve.
It was supposed to be okay. His team encouraged him to do it again, and he heard cheers from his coach from the side. But it didn't feel okay. It felt horrible.
He takes the serve again, this time it goes in. They earn a point not long after and he takes his place back on the bench. He received pats, praises, and reassurances. But none of them felt comforting.
"I'm sorry," he breathes out, clutching his fists. "I promise I'll do better." He didn't feel like crying but tears dared to fall from his eyes.
.
.
.
"Ah, Fūyu-kun?"
"Yeah?" It's a teacher; Fūyu noticed it immediately from the voice alone right before he answered. And from the sound of heels clicking against the linoleum floor, he knows that it's his English teacher back in his first year. He turns around and nods his head down to look at her, "You needed me, Ōno-sensei?"
She seemed to ignore his question, "I see you stayed around after school. Cleaning duties?"
"Yep," he says, but raises a brow at his question being disregarded.
"I think Takeda-san is still around here too." She reaches into her bookbag, taking out a neatly piled pile of paper.
Fūyu blinks, "Uh… maybe?"
"You're headed to the gym, no?"
"Well—"
"See, I need these delivered to him. If you see him, please get these to him as soon as possible."
His number of blinks started increasing in confusion, "Wait a minute—"
"If you can't find him, you can just hand them to the security guard by the gate, okay?" Ōno-sensei takes his wrist, turning his palm upwards and places the papers on it.
Fūyu, who didn't want to disrespect the teacher, just takes it but still tries to protest, "Why can't you just—"
"Ah! I have to go! Thank you so much, Fūyu-kun!"
Dull eyes followed the figure growing smaller going down the hallway, the footsteps quieting down as the teacher that stopped him went further. He stares at the small stack of paperwork in his hands, an orange clip is holding them all together, he noticed. A sigh leaves his lips, scratching the back of his head as he tries to not crumple the papers in annoyance. He shouldn't be annoyed as he is right now, he thinks it's unreasonable to but he feels like he can't help it.
"Yeah, sure. Whatever," he began talking to himself. "It's not like I didn't wanna go there on anything," he continues.
His eyebrows furrowed, staring at the clip as he brought the papers closer to his face. It was annoying him somehow. Maybe it was because it reminded him of that uniform or how bright it is. Either way, he didn't like looking at it for too long, yet he kept staring at it anyway, trying to figure out what's gotten him so miffed over a dumb clip.
It's been… a few weeks— maybe more— since Fūyu even stepped near the gym's building. The semester is almost done and he's graduating soon. From second to third, it's finally time for him to move up the grade and after that, he's going to go to college— if he decides to do so, that is. College and work all sound confusing though. Really, which is more important? Weighing both pros and cons, he found that he lacked the knowledge of both choices to actually determine anything between them. All he knows is that both want him to invest his time in them. He thinks he can do something as simple as that. Following orders should be a piece of cake, right? But then again…
Being reminded of the papers in his hand, he's finally come to, Fūyu finds himself in front of the doors at the end of the halls. He's been deep in his thoughts again just like earlier. He should consider himself lucky that he hasn't fumbled or walked into something before he got here. Just in front of him is the veranda walkway towards the gym. Even from where he stood, he could hear the squeaking of shoes against the polished wood floor. He hears the shouts and calls of the eager spikers ready to take a ball. He hears the laughter coming from a stupid joke. He remembers the warmth.
"Fūyu-kun?" Once again, he was snapped out of his thoughts by a voice, meek but melodic.
He turns around, "Kiyoko-chan?" he asks.
"... Yeah."
Silence. Before him was a schoolmate in the same year, a girl a few classes higher than his. He always noticed that her dark hair framed her face all pretty-like. No matter what expression she showed, she would still be considered an angel. Today was no different.
"Are you here for practice?"
He stares at her like she already knew what his reply was. A heavy smile burdens his features. "... Kiyoko-chan, I—"
She stops him, "It's okay," she says with a smile. "I know. It was stupid of me to ask." Even now, she looked heavenly, but her eyes had softened along with her voice. Her eyebrows tried to raise themselves along with her smile, but it was forced; he could tell it was. "You knew that I already knew the answer you'd give me, didn't you?"
"... Yes." There was no point in lying, he wouldn't gain anything if he did.
"Then what brings you here? Delivering paperwork, maybe?"
Huh? Fūyu stares at her, surprised, "How did you—" he looks down, "oh. Right," he chuckles, awkward yet uplifting. "I am. Is Takeda-sensei here?"
Kiyoko gently shakes her head, "No. He left an hour after school ended. It's almost six now." She lets out a chuckle right after she hears a tired sigh. "Sorry. Ōno-sensei was in a hurry, wasn't she?"
"She was. I still don't know what it was all about. She was running waaay too fast in those heels." At the mention of the teacher's name, he perks up. "You saw her?" he asked.
"I did. You should probably get those to the guard soon. It's getting late and we will be finishing up soon, I believe."
Another sigh. "I see. Then, I'll see you s—"
"Fūyu?"
He was cut off again. People keep making him shut up. He didn't really think of himself as a loudmouth.
"Fūyu, you're back?"
No, he doesn't want to turn around and face them. He recognizes that voice all too well and he's too scared to say that it haunted him despite the softness in its tone. He can't do it, he doesn't feel like he's ready. Not yet. He still doesn't turn around but decides to give Kiyoko a pained smile instead.
"You're right. I should get going. My mom must be looking for me. See you!" He bows before he runs off, leaving Kiyoko, and the ones that had just arrived, behind.
He arrives at the gate, panting. He hasn't run that fast in a long, long while. He was so used to light jogging that using his full power as a sudden change of pace made him light-headed. Starting to limp towards the school gate, he brings the papers to the sky in triumph. He really feels like he's achieved something here.
"Shit, I crumpled it."
He breathes out a heavy sigh. Out of panic, he must have clenched his fists and ruined the paperwork. Taking the stack in both his hands, he crouches down and tries to straighten it out quickly.
"I hope neither Ōno nor Takeda-sensei gets mad at me for this— but why couldn't Ōno-sensei just give it to the guard on the way out? She was heading out, wasn't she???"
Frustrated still, but he does his best to flatten the papers out without tearing them. He still doesn't understand why he was given such a task so late in the afternoon, almost evening even.
"Now where's that damned guard? I'll just make a run for it before he finds out I messed up the papers." With that, he marches towards the gate, finding the guard sitting in a chair by their post.