Chapter Text
“He can’t be that good,” Oikawa says to him, looking across the court and Iwaizumi follows his gaze to a tall boy with olive hair and a look of intense concentration on his face. Then he looks back at Oikawa with a roll of his eyes.
“Warm up so you actually get to see for yourself, idiot.” Iwaizumi snaps, turning away so he can continue with his drills.
“Do you think the rumors are true, Iwa-chan? That he’s a lefty?”
Iwaizumi ignores him and takes a deep, calming breath instead. He can do this without resorting to violence.
Hopefully.
At least Oikawa knows him well enough to take the hint and leave him alone to focus.
Ushijima Wakatoshi. You rarely ever heard about a particularly amazing middle schooler, but with the word going around about wonderkid ‘Ushiwaka’ it was hard not to wonder.
There was a noticeable change in the atmosphere when Ushiwaka deemed his warm up complete enough to do a few practice spikes, and though no one from Kitagawa Daiichi looked directly at him, there is not a single eye in the gymnasium that does not follow the movement of his legs as he crouches briefly, jumping higher than the top of the net to send the ball slamming onto the other side. There is a resounding thud from the impact that echoes in Iwaizumi’s ears long after Ushiwaka touches the ground again. The coach’s eyes are wide, and if Iwaizumi hadn’t already learnt how to keep a poker face (mostly from having to hide his irritation with Oikawa), he thinks his would have been too. Instead, he drags his gaze to meet Ushiwaka’s with the net between them.
Bring it on , he says and Ushiwaka meets his eyes for a moment before he turns to face the setter and asks for another ball. A glance out of the corner of Iwaizumi’s eye reveals Oikawa, also watching the boy now leaping into the air for a second time. There is a smile on Oikawa's face, slightly manic, his eyes glowing with anticipation.
“Iwa-chan,” he says, “beating him will be my greatest victory.”
Being better than him , Iwaizumi thinks, would be my greatest victory.
The whistle blows and they go to stand on the line to wish each other a good game. With a renewed determination, they meet the gazes of the people on the other side without a hint of fear or hesitation.
Ushiwaka is a spiker. A powerful one at that, but there is no spike that can’t be blocked. Iwaizumi learnt that a long time ago. They just have to understand him and the way the thoughts flow through the narrow pathways in his mind. Oikawa will figure it out. Iwaizumi knows he will.
The first set goes by like a blur, and the score is embarrassing enough that Iwaizumi can’t look at it for more than a second.
“It’s okay,” Oikawa says, “we have this next set to turn it around. He’s just a spiker.”
He says it many times throughout the set.
He’s just a spiker.
Iwaizumi would give a leg to never hear those words again.
The second set starts and Ushiwaka gets past them with just as much ease as the last time. Iwaizumi is calm when they pack up to leave, too shocked to feel much else. . He goes into the locker room with Oikawa by his side as usual, he slaps him upside the head as usual, and snaps when he tries accompanying him to the bathroom.
“I don’t need a babysitter, Trashykawa.”
He’s just as calm when he runs into the spiker who caused their loss. Ushijima Wakatoshi’s eyes are the same colour as his hair, and Iwaizumi thinks it’s a pretty colour. He’s about to walk past when the spiker stops him.
“You’re Iwaizumi Hajime, right?”
“Yes, why?”
“You have to get better at playing volleyball,” Ushijima says, and Iwaizumi blinks, taken aback momentarily
“What?”
“I want to play against you. A real match.”
Iwaizumi frowns at him. That wasn’t a real match? His entire team, sweating and putting their all into the game only to lose, wasn’t a real match? Him, jumping as high and as fast as he could, wasn’t good enough to be considered a real match? A dull sort of anger starts bubbling up his throat , causing his fists to clench hard enough that his nails leave marks , enough to make him walk past Ushijima before it gets the better of him.
“Say that again and I’ll knock your teeth out. I’ll show you what a real spiker is.”