Archive of Our Own

The first day Oikawa saw his long-time rival at the Olympics was terrific.

It had been at the Opening Ceremony, where all of the athletes reunited to see it. There had been a protocol and each team had to be seated where they were assigned, but casually Argentina ended next to Japan. 

Shouyou and Iwaizumi were the first ones to come to him before the start of the ceremony. Oikawa smiled widely to both of his friends, hugging each one and winning to himself a few hard slaps of Iwaizumi's hand on his back.

"You don't have to be so rude, Iwa-chan."

"That one is for not answering my messages since last week."

Oikawa shrugged. "Busy week. And jet lag."

"Not an excuse."

"How was the trip, Oikawa-san?" Hinata asked him with sparkling eyes. "Are you happy to be in Japan again?"

"I am. And I guess you are too, judging by how happy you look."

That made Shouyou burst into a long story about his return to Japan to train with the Olympic team. Oikawa listened to him while his eyes roamed over the Japanese team faces. All the players were tall and bulky, every face was familiar to him. He had studied them. He saw their training sessions, their matches with the Japanese team and with their league teams. He knew the playing style of each one. He could be called to set for any of them and he would know how - he knew them. And since he was the strategy maker of his team, he had to make a plan to win to each of them the moment they faced each other.

Argentina and Japan had to have a match. He came all the way from Argentina to win against every one of them. Japan couldn't lose, and Argentina too, so they could face each other on court.

That way, he would finally get over the grudges he held for most of his adolescence, something that held him back and pushed him forward at the same time, until he reached this moment.

And then he could win against Ushijima Wakatoshi.

As if he knew Oikawa was thinking about him, a large man stood next to him, throwing a big shadow over him with his bulky body. The last time Oikawa saw him in person, Ushijima was a bit smaller and much less bulky. Now he was… bigger. His stomach felt so tight he thought he would explode.

"Hello, Oikawa."

He was very polite. Maybe because Shouyou and Iwaizumi were staring at them. 

"Ushiw— Ushijima", he said, not looking up, not even daring to. "Long time no see."

Silence. Oikawa fiddled with his fingers and gave Shouyou a please save me signal. Shouyou did not take it.

"How was the flight?" Ushijima then asked, trying to make small talk. "I heard your team arrived late."

"Yeah, we had some trouble at the airport. But we are fine. Jet lag's gone." He wanted to get out of there. Instead, Shouyou and Iwaizumi did. The cowards.

Now it was only them and Oikawa's fucking desire to— 

"I'm glad to hear that. I hope all of your team are in their best shape."

"We are, " he said a little more sharper than expected. And then, he finally made eye contact. "I hope yours is too. It would be a shame if you were disqualified so early in the competition."

A muscle twitched in Ushijima's jaw.

"We won't be."

"Fine." Why were his eyes so intense when they looked at him? "Good luck, then. I have to return to my team."

He turned around to walk to his seat, but Ushijima's voice stopped him on his tracks.

"Do you think we can have a chat after the ceremony?"

Oikawa swallowed hard.

"We'll see if there's time."

He returned to his seat between his teammates, with his heart beating like crazy.

They laughed and patted his back. " ¡Toto! ¡Qué miedo da ese Ushijima en persona! ¿Es tu amigo? "

They were saying Ushijima was scary, asking if they were friends.

" No, no es mi amigo ." 

His hands were shaking, so he hid them under his legs.

*

“Oikawa san! Congrats for winning the semifinals!” A happy redhead was jumping around him with all of his energies. “I’m so happy for you!”

“What about you, Shouyou?” he asked nicely, walking alongside the smaller man in the corridors of the stadium. “Haven’t you played yet?”

Shouyou was wearing his training uniform, not the official for the matches as Oikawa was. His match had ended almost two hours ago, but finally he was able to return to the stadium after all the interviews and cheerings from the staff. He wanted to see the remaining match of the day: Japan-Brasil.

“Yeah, there’s still two hours left. I was going to meet the team at one of the secondary courts on the second floor for practice.”

“Nice then. Let’s go, I’ll keep you company.”

Shouyou smiled and they started their way to the side court. A lot of people that crossed paths with them asked for pictures, Oikawa was happy to take pictures with fans.

“I know of a certain someone that would like to take a picture with you,” Shouyou said a few moments later, when they were going upstairs.

“Who?”

“You know, Ushijima-san? He had been running after you the whole time we’ve been here, and you just… disappear every time he’s near.”

Oikawa felt a bit ashamed of being exposed like that. “I’m not… disappearing. I just… he makes me… I feel weird .”

Shouyou stopped in the middle of the stairs and turned to see him. Oikawa stopped too, waiting for whatever he wanted to say.

“Do you love him?” 

“Wha- what?!?” He started laughing nervously. “Where do you get those ideas from?”

“It 's so obvious. I just don’t get why you’re avoiding him?”

“It’s complicated. I just… can’t be near him right now. Maybe once the Olympics end."

"Why?"

Because… if I am near him, maybe I'll lose concentration. And I don't want to risk committing a mistake when I am in the most important moment of my life right now, you know?”

He wasn’t lying, but he also omitted a lot of other reasons. Still, what he said resumed it very well.

“Yeah, I get it.” Shouyou started walking again, and Oikawa followed him too. “Just don’t let him wait much longer. A person can only run after you for a certain distance before getting tired. So you have to run to them to meet them there too.”

Oikawa bit his lip very hard, but he knew Shouyou was right. 

They arrived at the side courts floor and there was a lot of the Japanese team staff walking around and making preparations. Oikawa felt sick when he saw the Japanese team outside one of the courts, talking and laughing and playing together.

He could have been there, a setter for all of them, but he chose another path. One that put him at the other side of the court of all the people that he encountered in his life. Against all the people that were obstacles for him. 

He was on the other side to beat them all.

When he saw a familiar tall person over there, he stopped in his tracks.

“I’ll leave now, Shouyou.”

“I thought you would come to say hi?”

“Maybe next time. I’ll go get a ticket to watch the match, so don’t lose or I’ll be mad.”

Shouyou laughed. “Yeah, alright. See ya, Oikawa san!”

“Good luck.”

He tried very hard to not look over there again, and walked away with his heart on his throat. 

He heard his name being shouted in the distance, but he disappeared on the stairs as fast as he could. 

A person can only run after you for a certain distance before getting tired. 

*

That night, Japan won the semi finals.

Oikawa saw the match with his partners at their dorms. He didn’t dare to go to the court.

He was still too scared to run. 

*

It was a cold morning, yet the sun made it warm. Enjoyable as it was, Oikawa had to stop himself from running to see the sun coming up to say hi. The sky was painted in different shades of orange and it looked mesmerizing.

He would miss that sight.

Their Olympic trip was near to be over, since they made it to the finals. No matter the result, they would have to return to Argentina eventually. He was planning on going to see his family on his free days after the final match, but right now that seemed very far away. His mind could only think about his entire career: every step he had to take, every set he made for every teammate he played with, just to finally stand there, in front of Tokyo’s sun at the Olympic Village, on his way to face one of the most important matches of his life. 

A little breeze made him hug himself, just as he heard some rushed footsteps of someone running behind him. It was not uncommon since he was in the Olympic Village — the majority of pro athletes started their workout routines early in the morning.

"Toouru", he heard someone calling his name. The voice gave him goosebumps, the hair on his nape standing up by the name.

"I thought I was clear to Hinata yesterday when he asked— I don't want to be near you until the finals." He didn't turn around to see who called for him, he knew that voice well, very well, it belonged to the only person in this world who was capable of getting under his skin by just existing in the same astral plane as him. "Please, leave me alone. Or else—"

"Or else?" The voice dared him, the man finally approaching Oikawa to stand by his side. Oikawa did not dare to look at him. He was weak. "I want you to stop ignoring me. You didn't even want to talk to me after the Opening Ceremony."

"I'm not ignoring you. I am dutifully avoiding your presence so I can keep myself in my mind palace. Alone ."

"Why?"

"I want peace. Mental peace. You know what it means?"

"So you're saying I'm the only one that can get to you?"

"Don't get me wrong, Ushiwaka ." He said as firm as he could, but the tip of his ears were bright red. As they were every time he lied blatantly. "You are not special yourself. You are just on the enemy team— and I made a promise that I would win to you, to Hinata, Kageyama and everyone who dared me in the past. Thanks to god you're all playing on the same team so it will be settled in one shot. That's why I want to be totally focused… and your presence will fuck that up."

"But you're not avoiding Hinata."

"He's my friend, and a pain in the ass, so of course I'm not. It would only make it worse."

"So what about us? Are we not… friends?"

Ugh. He cringed when he heard Ushijima say such a dirty word.

"Why would you even ask? Of course we are not…" He blushed and turned his face away from Ushijima. "And we will never be."

Wakat— Ushijima, shifted in his place. Oikawa was so tempted to look at him, a face similar to a sculpture that captivated him since the first time he saw him. Those thin lips that always said the most honest, hurtful and blunt things and yet they were so soft when it was time to talk about feelings.

There had always been something between them. It was bigger than the whole world. It always made Oikawa think he was spinning on himself, making him feel dizzy whenever he was near Ushijima. Did he hate him? Or was it something else?

He couldn't think straight when it was about Ushijima. But he knew whatever they had, it would only go well after Oikawa let go of his grudges. So couldn't be with him, not as long as he still held some grudges that he knew would go away the moment he won a match against Ushijima. Maybe after that, his heart wouldn't feel so heavy and then he could let his feelings go out and give a shape to whatever was hanging on between him and Ushijima.

So he wanted to beat him, and the whole Japanese Olympic team at the final match, and he had to be in his best shape to do so: physically and mentally.

That's why he had to stay as far as he could from Ushijima. At least until they had to meet at the court. 

"Are you going to let me take you on a date after the match?"

Oikawa felt his heart beat so fast he thought he would faint.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On who wins."

Wakatoshi let out a small laugh that made Oikawa's stomach flinch and do a backward flip.

"Only the best. I hope you still accept a date if we win—"

"—which is very unlikely, but we will see."

Then, silence. Oikawa looked again at the sun. Well, he paid attention to it. He was looking at it before, but his mind was just filled by Ushijima so he didn't actually see it.

"Look at me, Tooru."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He felt a knot on his stomach. It was so intense. Everything about it. He missed him. It had been so long without seeing him in person and yet he still felt every emotion as intense as in the past. Being called by his name made him want to curl himself in a ball of pure warmth.

"Don't wanna. I've already told you that…" Ushijima stood in front of him, so Oikawa stopped himself from talking. "Why are you doing this?"

His voice was tinted with pain. He wanted to touch him. He had only seen him from far until that day, because he had been avoiding him every time he tried to approach him. So this was the first time in years seeing him. He was beautiful. Handsome. He resembled every picture at the sport magazines where he starred, and his vibes were the same as they were over text (they had texted. Only a few times. Or well, maybe a lot. Just as friends, you know).

"I just…" Ushijima was out of words, struggling with them. "I don't know. I want to look at you, be near you… I missed you, Tooru. So much. I can't believe you're here, I want to be near you, but you just want to stay away from me. It pains me."

"I know," Tooru said, with all the calm he could reunite. He wanted to hold his hand out, to touch him and do something about the knot on his stomach and the desire and hunger to have him closer. But he was not ready yet. "I know. But not now, please."

"I'm not patient when it comes to you."

"You waited so many years, so you can wait for only two more days."

He liked how the orange tones of the light made a beautiful palette on Wakatoshi's skin and eyes. He looked like gold. He was so beautiful. Oikawa imagined that scene for so many nights, the both of them staring at the sun going up— 

"Promise?"

"Yeah."

Ushijima always had this stoic expression, or maybe he was expressionless. Only a person who knew him well, could identify the little changes on his face whenever he felt something. Oikawa was one of those people, so he saw how his expression shifted a bit. He looked pained at first, but after hearing his reassuring words, he looked… g reedy.

"I'll take your word, then."

"Alright," Oikawa said, looking away. He was so hungry but not for food. His stomach twisted in knots. "Then I'll see you on court."

"See you there." Ushijima's voice changed to something unreadable. " Tooru."

"Stop saying my name like that."

He turned around and started to run as fast as he could. But still he could hear him in his head, saying it so needy, greedy, hungry.

Tooru.

*

It was dark. The night had fallen hours ago, and Tooru should be sleeping for the great day tomorrow. Instead, he was walking around the desert Olympic Village, until he ended up sitting on a bench of a little training park. 

He felt so restless, visions of a pair of olive eyes roaming in his mind, a pair of thin and kissable lips saying his name over and over again. They made the hours left for the match seem quite infinite.

“Tooru.”

He thought he was daydreaming, again. But then, he felt something cold on his cheek — a juice can.

“What are you doing here?” Ushijima asked once Tooru took the can. He sat down next to him, in the dark. 

“Just thinking.” He was tired, he didn’t have the same strength as before to push Ushijima away. 

“About?”

“Tomorrow might be the only time we face each other in court.”

“Why do you make it sound like a sentence? We should all have fun and give our best.”

Tooru opened his can and drank a sip. It was sweet, but for him, at that moment, it tasted a bit sour. “I’m afraid of the results. What if I’m not satisfied with them? It will be my only chance to—”

“Tooru.”

Ah, there it was again. His name said like that. Like a reverence. 

“What?” He said, a bit breathless.

“There are many more things in this life than a match. You don't let that define who you are as a person, the decisions you want to make, or the things you will feel in the future. You are more than the result of a match. Much more. The growth of a person is not defined by winning or losing, failure is not just resumed to that.”

He was right, of course. He was so right. But Tooru was still holding on to all the negative things he felt until that day. 

“But you know… I’m just a resentful person. Bitter. Competitive. I’m not better than the Oikawa I was at highschool. I just learned to hide way deeper inside all my frustrations.”

“There’s always time to change that. Starting today.”

He drank another sip of his can, but the knot on his throat was impossible to make disappear.

“What if I can’t change at all?” He said, the horror of his declaration clenching his guts. “What if I disappoint you?”

“You won’t. There’s no way you could disappoint me… I already know you, Tooru. And I’m proud of you.”

By the time he finished, Oikawa was hyperventilating. Did he deserve that? The patience this man had on him ever since… he didn’t know what Ushijima saw in him, but he always made him feel worthy. 

He didn’t know if he would ever be able to love Ushijima the way he loved him. But he knew no matter what happened tomorrow, he would try with his whole heart. After everything Ushijima did for him, Tooru had to try too. He wanted to.

He reached out his hand on the bench, and found Ushijima’s hand in the dark.

He held it tight, feeling Wakatoshi’s warmth.

His heart was beating fast, but this time, it didn’t hurt so much.

***

Volleyball always felt like being on his second skin.

After so many years training day after day and night after night, it finally came naturally to him. Thinking when playing became a part of him, and he gained so much reaction time with that new skill — he was one of the best setters around the world.

Japan had wanted him, of course. 

They offered him so many things. But Oikawa always had a much bigger objective in mind. And it became reality once the Argentinian team called him to play with them, seeing how well he did with his San Juan team. Some of his league teammates were in the Olympic team too, and they were all so warm to him, everyone accepted him easily even being a foreigner.

They all wanted to win, after all. And probably they saw the hunger in Tooru’s eyes.

Still, nothing in his whole career could prepare him to face a final match at the Olympic Games. It was just something he couldn’t process — but he knew, deep inside, that he was ready to face everything that crossed his path.

After a very long and unnerving opening ceremony for the finals, they all had to stretch hands with their rivals, it was part of the fair game protocol. So when Oikawa gave his hand to Ushijima, he tried not to think about last night and how it kind of felt the same — and how he wanted more of that touch. It was not the right time to think about it.

He had to stay in his mental palace as he said, so he tried his best to feel his breath, his heartbeat, to think about the court, how it was reduced to lines on the floor and a net that divided it. His teammates. His rivals. Their positions. The referee. Not the cameras, or the public, much less the pair of olive eyes at the other side of the court watching him.

He was there to make his team win. Nothing else. Everything that came after didn’t matter at that moment.

He heard the high-pitched whistle that started the match, and Tooru forgot absolutely everything that wasn't about volleyball.

*

The gold medal felt too heavy hanging from his neck.

Tooru looked at it, feeling like he was looking at a strange object. He had only dreamed of it—deep down he hadn't really contemplated the possibility of actually having it. Throughout his life, everything had been reduced to goals and aspirations, so fulfilling one of the biggest goals of his life was an unreal feeling. And it hung in a material form on his neck.

He barely registered Ushijima grinning from across the court, holding his silver medal. He didn't even notice Shouyou or Iwaizumi hugging him, nor his companions, he really felt like he was in a body that didn't belong to him.

Had won. His team had won.

He remembered Ushijima saying that nothing they did meant the end of the world. That life went on, and not everything was reduced to winning or losing. Now that Oikawa understood, he just couldn't shake the feeling.

The locker room was noisy. Tooru sang, jumped and shouted with his teammates, they were so loud that they kept him high on the cloud he was on. Then came the interviews, the flashes, the press conference, the questions.

“Oikawa. You had an amazing match, but people were a bit suspicious because of your Japanese origin. They believed that you were not going to give your best because you were facing your country, but you showed them that you could do it without any problem. Anything you have to say to the people who doubted you?”

Suddenly the conference room had gone very quiet, waiting for his response. Tooru had finally come down from his cloud of dreams, he was sitting at a long table with a suit that bothered him with the tag on the back of his neck and a thin line of sweat running down his forehead.

“Let's skip that tabloid question,” the team captain said, gesturing to reporters. "Another question for Oikawa?"

“Oikawa, you had an amazing match and led your team to victory with your intelligence and cunning. What is the next step for your career? Do you plan to continue looking for wins with the team or do you think it is better to retire now that you are at the top?

Tooru inevitably let out a laugh. "What kind of question is that?" It felt so natural to say, “Yes, of course I will continue to seek wins with them. We haven't won the World Cup yet!"

The room erupted in a roar of cheers, his companions were very happy to have him with him, and he was very happy to be with them. However, no matter how happy he was, or how entertaining the events of the night were, his mind was elsewhere: on a person he needed to see now that he understood what he really felt and had managed to unravel the knot of feelings that hid his heart from everyone, including himself.

Since the Olympic village was too far from the main stadium to return so late at night, both teams had been allowed to stay in one of Tokyo's most luxurious hotels near the arena. After all the interviews and festivities, the celebrations continued in the hotel bar. At last they could drink alcohol and eat as much as they wanted. The team even organized an impromptu party in the dining room and there were dances in the wee hours of the morning.

Oikawa's head was still elsewhere. 

He returned to his room earlier, despite the insistence of his teammates that he stay to celebrate. On the twentieth refusal they let him go, and Tooru went up the elevator alone to get to the floor where he had a room just for him for the night. Regardless of the number of tourists, it was an Olympics arrangement with the hotel: rooms for all the players.

Thus Tooru found himself sitting on a bed after who knows how many hours, feeling a heavy silence in his ears. He was slightly drunk but definitely the anxiety in his gut overcame everything when he turned on his cell phone. Fifty missed calls from his family, from friends in Japan and Argentina, and messages from fans on all social networks automatically entered his phone. They were happy, full of congratulations. Tooru read everything and promised to reply the next day - honestly it was already late and he only cared about one of all the messages that had come to him.

Room 404.

Tooru left his room without even putting on his shoes, just taking his dignity. His bag, with the gold medal inside, didn't really matter, and was left on his bed while he went to find another man at the hotel.

When he stopped in front of the indicated door, one floor below, he held his breath, trying to stop his heart from beating so fast, and knocked on the door.

He heard the deep voice on the other end saying he would open right in a second. That’s when Ushijima answered the door only dressed in pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips. He was drying his wet hair with a towel, but stopped when he saw Oikawa standing in front of him.

“Tooru,” Ushijima said. Although his voice gave nothing away, he looked slightly surprised. "How did you know my room?"

Oikawa felt a lurch in his stomach. 

“You texted me,” he said nervously. "It wasn' you?"

“I haven't seen my cell phone in two days. The last time I used it... I left it charging in Hinata's room."

Unable to help it, Oikawa let out a nervous laugh. Fucking Shouyou, he knew exactly what he was doing. “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore? I'm here now."

Ushijima dropped the towel around his neck, and Tooru tried not to avert his eyes at the abdominal sculpture in front of him. He wasn't there for that. He shouldn't— “Congratulations on winning gold. You all really deserved it.”

"You deserved it too."

Ushijima, like a good team captain, nodded with a smile. “Like I said before, only the best wins the gold. It's not about who did more merit or not—just the best one back then won." He looked proud to say it, not disappointed at all. “We still have to prove ourselves in the World Cup. And in the next Olympics. We will be the best then.”

He said it looking him in the eye, like a challenge, but also… like an invitation.

"I can't wait for us to meet there one more time," Oikawa admitted. “Before my only goal was just this match, so for me everything else really ceased to exist… But I finally understood what you meant the other day. This is not the end — just the beginning.”

Despite being a person who hardly had any facial changes when experiencing emotions, at that time Ushijima smiled from ear to ear hearing Tooru say that. He seemed so happy, so proud, that Tooru even palpably felt the happiness emanating from Ushijima.

“I'm glad you think so, Tooru. As you say, this is only the beginning.”

"And what do you think about us?" Oikawa asked, knowing that this time he was the one who should put his hands in the fire for them. After so much, Ushijima deserved it. “Do you also think this could be a start?”

"Well... you said I could take you out on a date depending on who won, right?" Wakatoshi smiled, brighter than the sun. “What is your verdict?”

"You can take me on a date whenever you want."

Ushijima nodded, took the towel from his shoulders and used it to place it around Oikawa's neck and draw him into the room. Tooru giggled and clung to him, hugging him gently around his narrow waist. It was soft, warm and felt like his somehow.

"How about we have our date now?"

"I don't think my concept of dating is about being cornered by a half-naked man and a wet towel." Still, he didn't move away when he saw Ushijima lean over him, closing the distance between them.

"If we get rid of the wet towel, can the half-naked man stay?"

Oikawa let out a laugh and snuggled closer to him. "Of course you can stay... Wakatoshi."

Ushijima's amused expression immediately changed, his eyes darkening. The towel fell to the ground, now Oikawa's face was cradled by those two large hands that held him as if he were the whole world.

"Tooru, tell me I'm not dreaming."

He knew what Ushijima was saying. He felt the same — was it real? This felt like a fever dream, one very beautiful. But it was reality now, their reality.

"No, I swear you're not." He smiled, feeling his eyes fill with tears. “I swear this is true. I'm here. Finally, I am here.”

"I won't let you escape now, you know that?" Ushijima was dead serious.

"I know. Don't you dare to let me go."

Wakatoshi smiled. "Of course not." And saying that, he gently joined his lips.

Oikawa melted into honey in the kiss. 

Kissing Ushijima was addictive, and he was never going to forget that feeling. Even at an old age, and on his last breath, he would still remember how it had felt to finally be free and give himself completely to the love of his life — the person who, always being on the other side of the net, had been the engine for Tooru to never give up.

*

The car was already waiting for him, but Oikawa was too bad at goodbyes, and Iwaizumi was no better. They were lucky Oikawa already said bye to Shouyou the day before because if he had been there, Oikawa would never leave. Shouyou was way too sentimental for goodbyes. He cried yesterday and told Oikawa a thousand times to take care, to call him if he missed him, and to send him a few packs of dulce de leche when he could. 

Now it was time to say goodbye to Iwaizumi.

"Are you going to call me once you get there? There's no jet lag to excuse yourself anymore for not talking to me, fucker."

Oikawa let out a small laugh. "I will call you, I promise."

"Okay… and about Ushijima… he's my number one player so don't be too harsh on him."

"Hey! You should be saying that to him because I'm your best friend!"

"I've already told him everything, dumbass. But I know he’s going to take good care of you." He won himself a slap of Iwa's big hands on the back of his neck. "Have a nice trip, Tooru. And get home safely."

"You too, please come visit my family when you come to Miyagi too."

"I will. I just have some things to do here in Tokyo first. Like babysitting a whole fucking volleybal team."

Oikawa laughed very hard and hugged him.

"Good luck, Iwa-chan. See you."

"See you too, Golden Boy."

Oikawa gave him a flying kiss and walked away to the car. He entered the passenger seat and saw Ushijima already smiling at him, hiding his olive eyes behind a pair of sunglasses that fit him very well. 

"Ready to come back home?" He asked, putting his sunglasses over his head.

Oikawa just couldn't resist. He leaned over the driver seat and gave Ushijima a sweet kiss on his lips.

"Yeah… I'm ready."

Ushijima took him by the jaw and gave him another kiss before letting him go. "Let's get going then."

God, the butterflies would never go away being near Wakatoshi, right?

The car drove away from the Village. Tooru looked over the window and let out a small laugh. He was going home with the man he loved. Could he ask for anything else?

Finally, for the first time in his life, he was looking forward to running alongside someone instead of always being chased. And he couldn’t wait to see where the road would take them.