Chapter Text
Tobio hates the ease he’s forcing into his tense muscles as they all walk to Sakanoshita’s. He knows he’s going to have to stretch later tonight. They never stick around to properly cool down; they’re always too eager to just clean up and get the hell out of the gym, after… everything. Oikawa-senpai used to be pretty fanatical about stretching to avoid injury, and he made everyone on his team the same way, back at Kitagawa Daiichi. Tobio misses it. He always wonders if the others stretch or not when they get home, and he wants to ask them, to remind them. But once they leave the gym, it feels wrong to bring up anything related to skills or maintenance for volleyball, just because of the cloud that hangs over any kind of volleyball advice now.
Instead of speaking, Tobio consciously takes a deep breath and forces his shoulders to relax from where they’re hunched up around his ears as he follows the rest of his team down the road. He has no idea how Hinata and Nishinoya are chattering away so happily, nor how Suga-san can be smiling like he is. He swallows the lump in his throat, looking down at the tiny irregularities in the asphalt, feeling all kinds of wrong about everything that happened tonight. He knows it’s him: it’s gotta be him, he’s some kind of delinquent for sure, because he resents proper discipline, feels dirty and disgusting and uneasy when a sensei exercises his right to correct his students. It makes his skin prickle that everyone’s slowing their pace to match their punished classmates’ – Hinata and Noyassan, today – without mentioning it, it makes his chest tight that Hinata’s hand on the strap of his bag still sometimes trembles, just slightly. They’re supposed to ignore stuff like that, out of politeness, so their classmates can save face. So they don’t feel different, or less-than. Tobio doesn’t feel they’re less-than, though: he just feels a burning in his gut.
He barely even notices when they enter the store. Someone must’ve held the door open for Tobio, because the rough, dark asphalt gives way to smooth, white tile. It’s brighter around him, and he can hear the hum of fluorescent lights. “Melon flavor is the best and anyone who doesn’t like it is an idiot!” Noya-senpai calls out like a challenge. Of course, someone shouts him down, and they’re quickly followed by a cacophony of voices, all loudly announcing why their choice of snack is the best.
Tobio wanders along at the rear of the group, not hungry for anything, even though he knows he should be eating something. He finds himself next to the magazine rack, where he flips through a volleyball magazine without really looking at it. He’s close to the cashier, an older guy with earrings and a shock of yellow hair tied back with a stringy thing. He always looks rather bored and smells slightly of cigarettes, although Tobio’s never seen him smoking.
As Tobio watches, the blond cashier’s eyes lazily track the team’s yelling and bickering, Hinata and Noya, as usual, making the most noise. ”I don’t need ice cream and a bun, Daichi-san!” Hinata says loudly over everyone else.
“C’mon, Hinata-kun,” Suga-san says gently, “we want to do it for you.”
“It’s not that bad, Suga-san,” Hinata continues at the same volume. “I only got two lashes today! I must have improved!”
“Then let’s celebrate doing well today,” Daichi suggests kindly, his deep voice feeling like a hug. Tobio’s eyes prickle and he looks down even harder at the magazine, unable to stop his shoulders hunching up. They’re all doing fine with the new coach. Why is Tobio having such a hard time?
“Lashes?” a new voice asks, incredulous and drawing everyone’s attention. It’s the guy behind the register. His eyes are sharp all of a sudden, although he looks rather confused. “I didn’t know they did that at school anymore.”
“It’s not that bad! It’s only two to six, most times I only get four, and today I only got two! It’s to provide,” Tobio knows these words aren’t Hinata’s, “a deterrent to messing up. Discourage mistakes.”
The blond guy’s brow furrows and he gives a tiny shake of his head. “Right. Whatever. You think they’d have grown out of it by now.”
“Who?” Ennoshita asks.
“Your teachers,” the guy responds simply. “I thought they would have stopped that.”
“Oh, it wasn’t our teachers,” Hinata says, still bright and chipper. Tobio doesn’t understand how Hinata can be the least affected by the new coach when Nagano-sensei seems to have it in for him. “It was Nagano-sensei, our new coach. We play on the volleyball team at Karasuno!”
The blond guy’s face falls, then twists into a complicated expression. He looks around at the whole group, taking in each of them. They always come into Sakanoshita’s, at least Tobio’s been coming here with them since the beginning of the year, but it’s like they’re entirely new people and he’s seeing them for the first time. “Your coach?” the blond guy asks. “He... beats you?”
Hinata turns to the guy with a disapproving frown and Tobio has to look away, busying himself with putting the magazine back on the rack and arranging it with unnecessary precision. Anger on their coach’s behalf feels wrong. Well... it feels like Tobio should be standing up for him as well, but he can’t bring himself to. “No, it’s just discipline,” Hinata says with an air of confidence. “He even lets us keep our shirts on for whipping. We all have to deal with it and we’re doing just fine.”
Tobio can see it as Blond Cashier’s hand creeps toward his pack of cigarettes. His long fingers wrap around it – they look kind of like a setter’s hands – but he only holds onto it, not making any moves to light up. “Yeah,” Ennoshita chimes in. “I even avoided the lashes today.”
“Barely,” Tobio whispers, unable to say much more. He thinks the coach wanted to single out Hinata and Noya today. For some reason, their coach hates short people. He’s always saying it: how height is a “prerequisite,” how smaller guys have “no business being on the team.” And yet, here they are. Noya is too good to cut off the team and Hinata is too stubborn. It gets Tobio steamed that Nagano-sensei seems almost physically intimidated by the bigger guys: he’s never given a single lash to Daichi-san, or Asahi-san, or Tanaka-senpai. The others are whipped sparingly; Suga-san has never gotten lashes again after that first time, when Daichi-san glared so blackly it seemed like there would be a thunderstorm in the gym. Ennoshita-senpai gets the worst of it, getting hit almost every day. Noyassan does get hit every day. But nobody gets beaten morning and evening like Hinata. The way Nagano-sensei lays into him, it’s pretty damn obvious he wants Hinata to get sick of it and leave – and that makes Tobio’s skin feel hot and tight – but he didn’t count on Hinata’s iron will. Tobio should be proud of Hinata, but right now it just makes him unhappy.
The blond cashier takes another moment, then clears his throat. His fingers twitch around his pack of cigarettes. “How does your faculty advisor feel about this?” he asks, his voice carefully neutral.
Tobio looks to Daichi to respond, and he can see several of his teammates doing the same. Daichi shrugs. “Yanagi-sensei isn’t… really around for practices much,” he explains, “and he’s here even less since Nagano-sensei started with us as a coach…”
“‘Nagano-sensei’?” Blond Cashier says sharply. “This guy is a teacher? I thought he was a coach.”
Daichi rubs the back of his head. “He told us to call him ‘sensei’, so that’s what we do,” he says flatly. “As I was saying, Yanagi-sensei is kinda… open that he never wanted to be our advisor, so once we got a coach, he’s the one who runs the practices. Yanagi-sensei is just available for liaison stuff with the school.”
“I see,” says Blond Cashier. “Right.” He taps his pack of cigarettes against the counter once, then pulls his shoulders back, looking around at all of them. “So you’re done with practice for today… and you’re getting treats?” he asks without judgement.
Suga-san nods. “Anyone who gets singled out at the end of practice gets an ice cream for recovery,” he says, looking at Hinata.
“I don’t get singled out,” Hinata corrects Suga-san gently. “I messed up one too many serves. You all saw it.”
“And,” Noyassan shrugs, “I… couldn’t do my job. You all saw that, too.” He cuts his eyes pointedly at Tanaka-san. His voice is soft, so soft that Tobio might not have heard it if he wasn’t standing right next to them.
Tanaka-san looks down at Noyassan, his face unreadable. Tobio always thought they were best friends, they certainly seemed like it, but since Nagano-sensei arrived, there’s been a rift between them. If Tobio didn’t know better, he’d say the coach was pitting them against each other on purpose. “You keep telling yourself that,” Tanaka-san mutters, and his voice is kinda wavery. “I’m surprised you can still pass at all. Your back must look like a war zone.”
“Ryuu. Shouyou can take it just fine. Why do you think I’m weak?”
“It’s not about being weak, man.”
Tobio’s eyes follow them as they drift off to the side, deep in their conversation, and he can’t seem to stop listening. “Yeah, it is. You think I can’t take it.”
Tanaka-san winces like he’s in actual pain. “No, Noyassan, no. If you’d just let me tell Saeko…”
Tobio has no idea who Saeko is, but clearly Noyassan doesn’t like the sound of that. “I said no,” Noya says sharply, with a roll of his eyes. “Tell Neesan I mess up so often I have to be punished every day? I still care what she thinks of me, even if you don’t.”
“No,” Tanaka-san breathes, and there’s something very sad in his voice. “It’s not that, Yuu, you know it’s not that. He’s setting you up for impossible passes. Don’t tell me you can’t see it!”
“That’s just so I’ll get better. You can’t control what kind of passes you’ll get in a match.”
“There is such a thing as an impossible pass, Yuu.”
“You think I can’t do it, Ryuu? You’re saying I’m not good enough?”
“No,” Tanaka-san repeats, shaking his head. “No, Yuu, dammit, I…”
“Saying I can’t make the grade?”
“Yuu, if you would just talk to Neesan… see what she thinks…”
“I said NO!” Noyassan’s raised voice draws a few glances, even among the chaos of everyone chattering at once, and he lowers his voice and hisses angrily at Tanaka. “Gods, you’re like a dog with a bone. What good’s it gonna do to make her worried over nothing?”
“It’s not nothing,” Tanaka-san mutters, sounding like he’s going to cry.
“It’s nothing,” Noyassan snaps. Tobio’s never seen him raise his voice to Tanaka-san before.
“Yuu…”
With a scowl, Noyassan whirls away from Tanaka-san, going to stand next to Hinata. Tanaka-san is left standing there alone, his shoulders dropping, looking kinda small. He looks blindly around him at the magazine rack, fingering the volleyball weekly Tobio was looking at earlier. Tobio’s eyes drift to Noyassan, the traces of a frown still on his face as he pointedly avoids looking at Tanaka-san.
“Well, it sounds like everyone worked hard today,” the blond cashier cuts through everyone’s chatter, “so why doesn’t everyone pick something out from the ice cream freezer? On the house.”
Everyone quiets down, shocked. Daichi-san looks stunned for a moment. “You don’t have to do that,” he says politely.
The man waves him off. “I used to play and I want to help you guys... recover. So, for today, ice cream on the house.”
Tobio stares at the guy and wishes desperately, for a second, that someone like him was their coach. Someone nice. Then he feels guilty for thinking that. Nagano-sensei is volunteering his time. He doesn’t have to help them, but he does, out of the kindness of his heart. Tobio should be grateful.
(the sound of Hinata breathing hard and ragged, the crack of the cane against Hinata’s back. Tobio looks down at the floor so he won’t see. They have to stand and watch, he can’t get out of it, but Tobio’s too cowardly to look. Out of the corner of his eye, Nagano-sensei raising the cane, winding up like a field athlete. The swing. Hinata’s grip on the gym bars faltering, then resuming. Suga-san’s flinch and ragged intake of breath at the explosive sssssh-thwack. Hinata collapsing onto the bench when it’s over. Noyassan smiling cockily as he takes up Hinata’s former position and raises his arms to grip the gym bars. Tanaka-kun pressing his fingers into his closed eyelids, shoulders hunched.)
Tobio watches his teammates mob the ice cream freezer, except for Daichi-san and Tanaka-senpai. He can’t bring himself to join them; he can’t stomach ice cream right now. There must be something wrong with Tobio. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. Tobio’s just… Oikawa-senpai and Daichi-san have been too soft on them, that’s all. He knows athletes need to be toughened up, he knows this. He’s lacking in experience that he’s never been through this before. He should be grateful.
(It hurts even more that he’s never felt the lashes on his own back, always praised by the coach, a favorite. He doesn’t want to be Nagano-sensei’s favorite. It makes him feel dirty. Watching his teammates lined up gripping the gym bars to be beaten while he can do no wrong makes Tobio feel – again – like there’s a chasm opening up between him and his teammates, like they’re in a place far away where he can’t reach.)
Everyone else happily accepts the gift. Tobio takes the ice cream Hinata hands him and gives the blond cashier a small bow. “Thank you for the gift,” he says politely.
“It’s my pleasure. You boys take care of yourselves,” the guy says, way too serious for someone who just treated them to ice cream.
Tobio follows as his teammates file out of the store, happily eating their ice cream and trying to put the practice behind them. Tobio doesn’t know how everyone does it, how they can forget about the yelling and the insults (stupid, told you a hundred times already, don’t belong on the team, useless) and the zzzz-thwack of the cane striking their backs. It plays through his mind on a loop every night until sleep mercifully takes him under. He doesn’t know how Hinata can be still smiling and joking, still so bright with all that hatred directed at him. But like Hinata says, they’ve always learned that athletes need to be toughened up, so there’s gotta be something wrong with Tobio. He knows Hinata’s exceptional, he’s always seen it, but it’s not just Hinata. There’s Ennoshita. Noya-senpai. Maybe Tobio doesn’t have what it takes. Maybe he’s not strong enough.
They all part ways, say their goodbyes, and Tobio walks home, ice cream still unopened. He’ll put it in the freezer when he gets home. Maybe he’ll be able to eat it later, after Hinata texts him that he made it home okay. Tobio doesn’t like the thought of Hinata biking home all that way after a whipping. He’s seen his little partner trembling afterward, seen how it takes his body a while to settle. (seen how Hinata is slower on the court, like he’s injured, but that’s a wrong thought, discipline doesn’t make athletes tired or vulnerable, it makes them better.) Anyway. Tobio isn’t sure how the lashes affect Hinata’s ability to ride a bike, but he can’t help being worried for the little dumbass until he knows Hinata is safe.
He walks home faster, like he’ll get that safe and sound text sooner, even though he knows it’ll be a while. He doesn’t know why he’s in such a rush: when he gets home, Tobio will lie in bed, the sounds replaying in his head, until he gets that text. Hinata won’t delay texting him, little stupid dumbass knows Tobio worries, it’s not safe, biking injured all that way over the mountain in the dark. So he waits, not very patiently, for the text telling him Hinata made it okay, that he’s okay. It’ll be okay, Tobio tells himself. We’ll be okay. Somehow. We will. We’ll be okay.