Work Text:
So if the y-coordinate never touches the x coordinate, they’re a parallel- but parabolas are a bit different- the quadratic formula gives us the trajectory of the rise and fall of a curvature on a graph where…
Kageyama Ryoko stops and sighs. She had never been this tired before, but honestly, her first year of high school had been getting to her, and it was only the beginning of classes. Middle school had been a time to figure out exactly what she liked to do in school, and what she was good at. Unfortunately, these weren’t the same thing. She was wickedly brilliant in math, but she struggled to find it engaging, often wanting to devote more time to her essays in Japanese literature. Her teachers time and time again had stressed that she could be one of the most gifted students in mathematics they had ever taught, but it wasn’t until she found some sort of joy in it that she could truly excel.
That was a problem back in middle school. Now that she had enrolled and passed an entrance exam with flying colors at her parents’ old high school, Karasuno Miyagi Prefectural, she had found clever ways to love math and excel in new ways of figuring out how expressive it was in her real life.
That didn’t stop the pressure of the amount of work that had to be done in high school from getting to her, however. Like tonight. It was 3am, and here she was, still staring down how to take apart the calculations of a parabola, initiated by means even beyond the quadratic formula. The only reason she hadn’t gone to bed yet was because there was only one parent in the house right now, and she doubted that he’d wake up. And even if he did- well, there was no way he could help her anyway.
This was something Ryoko had struggled with in life too. As wildly talented as Kageyama Tobio and Kageyama Shoyo were at their careers in professional volleyball, they never could quite grasp how advanced Ryoko was in mathematics (and other academics) for a high schooler, nor could they understand any content she was currently learning and pushing herself to achieve. It’s not that her dads weren’t smart, no, they were brilliant parents and incredible role models for Ryoko, but the problem was that they were fully honest about not doing that well back when they were in school. Which was fine- but often it was hard for them to connect to their daughter’s struggles.
Honestly, Ryo was a bit intimidated in letting her dads down. Kageyama Tobio was an intensely fierce volleyball player and had gone to the Olympics several times for the Japanese National Team, and Kageyama Shoyo was the exact same, if not more loud about it all. She, on the other hand, wasn’t an athlete at all, and instead buried her head in formulas and other intricate mysteries of the universe that didn't require waking up at 5am every morning to practice.
She worried that she was going to be the disappointment forever for not even wanting to play volleyball after a spike to the stomach in gym class in elementary school was enough to put her off from it all.
She was startled out of her thoughts by a gentle knock on the side of the kitchen door, where she had been completing her work for the week.
“You’re still up, Ryo-chan? You need to sleep, don’t you have that big exam at the end of the week?”
Ryoko winced. Kageyama Tobio was the stricter of her two parents, and she was just unlucky enough that her dad Shoyo was out of town that week for a beach tourney in Brazil.
“One more problem, chichi, I promise,” she told Tobio, rubbing her sleep-deprived eyes.
“You’re 16, kiddo, I think sleep is more important than any…hey is that a volleyball trajectory?”
“No, dad,” she rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “It’s a quadratic parabola.” She took a second glance at it, then smiled up at Tobio as she realized, “It’s probably the physics of a round serve though, when I think about it.”
“Ah, if only my teachers would have explained math in volleyball plays, maybe I wouldn’t have almost failed out of the subject in high school,” Tobio laughed at himself. It never ceased to amaze him how different little Ryo was from Shoyo and himself.
Speaking of which…he noticed exactly how tired and down his kid looked tonight.
“Is something bothering you at school, Ryo? No one is giving you a hard time, right?”
Ryoko sighed. “No chichi, I promise. It’s just-” she cut herself off, not wanting to get into it so late.
Tobio touched his daughter’s shoulders as he patted her hair, so much like his. “Hey-you know you can tell me and your dad anything, right? Even if Sho is out of town and I’m the only one here to listen. We can catch him up later, yeah?” he nudged her playfully with his own shoulder, eliciting a grin out of Ryoko.
“I know, dad. It’s just…are you two ever, you know. Disappointed? That I don’t play volleyball. That I don’t play sports at all?”
She looked up, anxious at what Tobio would say to her. She found his face had gone soft, eyes glimmering with unshed emotion.
“I don’t know exactly how to tell you how proud we both are of you, Kageyama Ryoko.” Tobio swallowed, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him as he was speaking to his daughter. “You’re so smart- smarter than your old dads will ever be,” he laughed, “and although we may not understand the quad volley-”
“Quadratic parabola, dad,”
“Yes, that,” Tobio continued, smiling now, “we are still so happy that you’ve found something you’re driven to do, even if it isn’t what Shoyo and I do. We love you no matter what. We’re proud of you no matter what. I know that’s something my family never told me growing up, but Hinata-baasan did tell your dad that and we want you to know that too.”
Ryoko wiped away the tiredness and tears from her eyes that had fallen during Tobio’s speech to her. Tobio was always her more quiet parents, gently encouraging her without words most of the time, and quietly speaking to her otherwise, so to be able to hear this from him meant so much to her. “You aren’t mad though, that I don’t play volleyball?”
“No, kiddo. We’re happy you enjoy watching it. If you’re doing what you love, that’s all that matters.”
Ryoko stands up from the kitchen table and flings her arms around her father then, her gentle but driven father who has never done anything but show how much he loves his family through guidance, quiet strength, and hard work. She’s glad to always have him by her side.
“Thank you, chichi,” she sobs, crying into her dad’s shoulder. “It’s just been- such a long week.”
“I know kiddo. It’s time to go to bed, even if you aren’t finished. It’s not good for you to stay up this late.”
“Daaaad c’mon just a half hour more?”
He pulls back from their hug, face unimpressed with her negotiation.
“Now. Or Shoyo won’t buy any of us ice cream when he flies back home tomorrow.”
Ryoko gulps. “Yes dad!” and runs to her room to finally sleep.
Tobio sighs, glad that he had finally been able to convince his daughter to go to bed. He glanced down at her homework, and looked up at her class name and paled. Class 3-A? Ryoko was doing third year work as a first year? Of course she was. Tobio didn’t understand a single thing her paper said…why were there letters in math anyway?
It really did look like a volleyball going over the net, all things considered. Tobio smiled.
A parabola crosses the y-axis in an arch-like form, and can often be calculated by x=-b+/-2b2-4ac/2a, often called the quadratic formula. Most commonly called a spike formula, this helps us determine many real life physical movements, such as in sports games like basketball or volleyball.