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Well, graduation is imminent from the day you put on your purple jacket for the first time, Goshiki supposed. And he likely, or rather, definitely, would one day walk through the Shiratorizawa gates too, knowing that his time at the school had passed forever. He just wasn’t sure if that walk would be reminiscent of the stoic third-year who he currently watched tread purposefully out with his peers, diploma and flowers in hand, or if it instead would be one heavy with regret leaked out of cracks of failed expectations. He badly hoped it would be the former, and as he did so, a small little flame lit up in him. But there was nothing more to say.
Shirabu and Kawanishi stood next to him with their hands loosely at their sides. The rest of the team had left the area to go back to the dorms—all thank-yous, goodbyes, and congratulations owed from the Shiratorizawa VBC to the graduating class had already been said and shouted in unison many times over. Goshiki sniffed loudly, tears almost dried up as Tendou flashed one last jubilant and slightly crazy-looking grin with an accompanying peace sign from his free hand. And then they were all gone, eagles whose flight had been long and far and dominating, if perhaps unexpectedly cut short. (Tendou, the three of them think simultaneously, Tendou, at least, would by all counts turn up again soon enough to bug them at practice. As long as old Washijo didn’t coerce him to join in. Goshiki wasn’t sure if he would technically have the power to do so, but Washijo commanded enough of their mutant respect and fear hybrid that even a graduated student would drop and do ten if asked).
Goshiki had cried when two months ago, Ushijima had looked him square in the face and told him that he was counting on him. Today, as he looked at the looming steel gates that had been unusually opened up to the road, to the world beyond, he firmed his resolve, and straightened his back. He had been given a well-trodden and worn path, and he would see it through. Goshiki would bend and pick up those remaining fallen feathers, remnants of great white wings that had been the envy of many across Miyagi, across Japan — and sew them together, one by one, practice by practice, spike by spike.
Goshiki sniffed dolefully one last time, earning a half-scowl from Shirabu on his left. “Gross,” he said sourly, while simultaneously pulling out a tissue from a packet in his jacket pocket and handing it to the first-year. He then took another one out for himself, which he quickly scrubbed near his eyes and then shoved back in his pocket. “Well,” Shirabu pronounced concretely. “Let’s go.” The three of them trudged back to the dormitory building in silence, splitting up to each go to their own room. There was nothing left to do today. But tomorrow—definitely tomorrow, and the day after, and for the rest of the year, the work would continue and the sweat would be shed. And right before the three of them went to sleep that night, they vowed to themselves – Shiratorizawa would resume their reign. No matter who the challengers were, whether they were crows that grew, evolved, and flew faster by the day.
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“You were great today Ushijima-san!” Goshiki pushed out enthusiastically. “But! Next time we’ll beat you for sure.”
“We will welcome your challenge.” Ushijima said, and for any passerby his face would have been easily classified as being hard and disinterested. But though years had passed and the man sitting in front of him resolutely eating rice and fermented beans was now 25, Goshiki felt the vestiges of a past look of expectation, a look from an 18-year-old that had both at once quelled insecurities and inspired. Goshiki, he had said once. What does a person of your talent and skill have to be anxious of?
Around them, the Adlers and Green Rockets were loudly conversing about this and that. Despite the very above-average volume that surrounded, a semi-awkward silence seemed to overtake the two Shiratorizawa alumni, as they continued to eat without saying anything more. It was only half awkward because Ushijima was, as usual, obviously not feeling anything amiss.
Ushijima put his chopsticks down and sipped some water.
“I heard from Tendou that you will be graduating from college next month.” he said, facing Goshiki.
“Uh- yes!” Goshiki affirmed, slightly starting in his seat at the silence being broken. His choppy bangs moved with him. “Yes, soon! All my exams are over, so I’m just waiting for my final marks to come out. Then it’s just the ceremony.” Wait, Goshiki suddenly thought, how did Tendou even know that? The last time he had been in correspondence with Tendou had been— he wasn’t sure actually, and the last time he had seen him face to face had been before Tendou had left for Paris, when Shiratorizawa had hosted a farewell party at Goshiki’s residence (without his consent as usual). Ushijima, occupied with U19 World Team training in Tokyo, had not been in attendance. Well, he thought, Tendou has his ways. Wait, he thought some more, feeling silly, most school years end at the same time. Regardless, he still felt a burst of warmth at the fact that his very own milestone had been remembered by his wacky, yet thoughtful upperclassman. As for why this was told to Ushijima…—
“Congratulations,” Ushijima said. “and good luck.”
Goshiki gaped slightly. “I’ll do my best,” he stated confidently, almost immediately feeling awkward about the tone of his voice as soon as the words left him.
Pushing his now-empty bowl of rice away to make some room, Ushijima ruffled around in his pocket and took out his phone. As he sat typing, Goshiki continued to eat, thoughts whirring around in his brain as he carefully wrapped meat in greens before placing it in his mouth.
“Goshiki.”
The black-haired man looked up to see Ushijima holding his own phone in front of him, the screen horizontal and facing Goshiki. A YouTube video had been opened up into full screen mode, in a way so that the title couldn’t be made out.
“Ushijima-san, um, it’s an ad playing right now.”
“Oh. Which one?” Ushijima’s baritone voice said in response, in — curiosity, interest?
“Uh, I think it’s for paint. Like bedroom paints? Paint for your walls…” Goshiki trailed off, as Ushijima whipped the phone back to him so that he could see the scene for himself.
“My apologies. I quite like this one, but the last time I came across it I had unfortunately clicked SKIP AD by accident.”
What. On. Earth. Goshiki drank some more water, and started on the side of vegetables that he had left for the end. After a minute or so passed, Goshiki swallowed one last bite of food before piping up.
“Uh! That’s okay Ushijima-san! What video did you want to show me?”
The question remained unanswered for a few seconds as the ad finished up with a final jingle.
And then “Ah. Here it is. Hoshiumi and I were watching your game against the Red Falcons. I noticed something here about your jump… “
Goshiki stared at his former upperclassman for a moment, at the firm earnestness and solemnity with which Ushijima was glancing at the video. Attention fully captured, Goshiki leaned in to watch too.
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My smart and talented grandson, Goshiki’s grandmother cooed at him over dinner at his Sendai family house. Don’t know how you managed it all, conceded his friends from university.
Congrats Goshiki, I hope you actually learned something over those four years, a message popped up on his iPhone.
Somewhere along the line (i.e, his second year at Shiratorizawa) Goshiki had learned to contain his instinctive indignance that flared easily at Shirabu’s tell-tale jibes.
Thanks Shirabu-san! Do your best as well, only one more year to go!!! You’ve been working hard!! Med school is no joke
Sure. It’s crunch time now. Right?
Goshiki’s eyes widened a bit, feeling that high school first-year fire come into his body.
Yeah!!!
He sent his fair share of well-wishing messages, commenting on the celebratory Instagram posts from old friends from Sendai – Kindaichi (Congrats!!! Haircut looking real good), Kunimi (Hahaha I’m relieved you didn’t sleep through the past four years) and Tsukishima (Good job Tsukki I’m scheduling a visit to the Sendai Museum next time I’m in town). As he was typing the last one however, Goshiki received another of his own.
TSUTOMU CONGRATS!! SO COOL A COLLEGE DEGREE!!!
THANKS SHOYO! I’ll see you soon, MSBY game scheduled in two months I think! We won’t lose!!!
We won’t lose either!! CONGRATS AGAIN!
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As the celebratory tinge from Goshiki’s graduation slowly faded away, an eagle had once again taken to the skies. Set straight on its course, with nothing to tie it down on its strong, steady path.
If there was one thing that Shiratorizawa had instilled in him, it was pride at being what he was, pride at being someone who could be depended upon, when push came to shove. It was a pride that was built on a simple, dominating strength that had not been built overnight, but had rather emerged from a flaming mix of hard work, luck, and resolve. To put it simply, it was confidence.
By his third year at Shiratorizawa, it had mattered not that under his lead, the eagles had not soared as far as they had before him — okay, well it did sting, actually it stung a lot—, but Goshiki knew that he had done his best, and had been that pillar of strength that he had once looked to for guidance. And whatever monstrosities had been cooked up at Karasuno was no negation of his own strength and skill. As for the golden past that had preceded him, he had accepted that too. Sure, he was no Ushijima, nor would he ever probably be. But he was Goshiki, who— as he could now tell himself when needed — had no reason to be anxious, with his skill and talent. He was going to be just fine. And as he watched Kiryuu send a ball resolutely, concretely, and decisively to the opposing side of the court during practice, he knew his time was just beginning.