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Karasuno Aces

Summary:

Three months ago, Asahi experienced it himself, being stuffed and failing to make points, his team eliminated from the competition.

He finally got his revenge on Date Tech but now here is his friend, the Karasuno ace, having experienced the same helplessness in her first and last tournament match of their last year of high school.

He holds joy and relief back for a few more minutes to be there for a friend.

Notes:

If you can leave a fic at exactly 1234 words, you have a natural duty to make it happen. No amount of edit is too much for this worthy endeavour.

This is part of White Trail 's chapter 16.

Posted separately because I missed hugging my high school friends.
(Yusuke is my OC and Asahi's childhood friend)

Work Text:

It had been bittersweet to see the girls' club cheering them from the stands, behind their FLY banner. Sweet to see the look their third-years gave Daichi, Suga, and him, like it had been a collective Karasuno High payback delivered to Date Tech, and bitter because their presence meant they had no afternoon match of their own. It was sweet to realise how many more people had been concerned about him, and bitter to know the girls had been eliminated in round one, the first and last official match of this year for their third-years. 

On his way back from the bathrooms, he saw Mao waiting in front of the stairs that led to the seats where their teams were going to watch the Seijoh match to the end. They had become friends in their first year of high school on the sole merit of Yusuke and Asahi having been sorted into the same class, and his childhood friend finding out Mao and Asahi both played the same position in volleyball. Their friendship had only grown last year when they had both become team aces. They had insider jokes like how Karasuno qualifications for ace was hair length and with that, Tanaka had doomed himself, or all the teasing Asahi had got when Mao was elected vice captain and Asahi was left behind to eat her dust, the last part incited by Nishi.

Seeing her lean against the wall and drag her left foot back and forth against the floor, it hit Asahi. They still had over eight months left of high school, and today had been Mao's last chance for volleyball. She was not crying or hitting the wall or anything like many other third-years he had seen. She was just there in her blue tracksuit, staring at her foot, hands locked together between her back and the wall. 

Noticing someone approach, she looked up and her face suddenly took on the most wicked version of a grin she could muster. "It will be so good," she said, her voice almost cracking, "not having to see your stupid mopey face now that you've finally vindicated yourself." Asahi stood in front of her, taking in the punch that came at his shoulder, meant to have packed more strength than it did. "Sorry for all the trouble," he said like she had been his coach or teammate, and tried a smile. "Ah," she grunted in frustration, "don't be such a wuss, defend your fucking honour, take pride in that wicked last rally. It suuuucks to be stuffed over and over again." He knew without asking that she was talking about the girls' round one match against Shirato. "The worst," he said. 

Then she breached the gap, and leaned her forehead against Asahi's chest "Crap," was all she said. Her shoulders did not move, but her head pressed tighter against him, and Asahi felt a spot on his chest grow warm and wet. He did not know what to do. He and Mao were not hugging friends, not even he and Yusuke were hugging friends. Asahi's only hugging friend was Nishi and that was completely on the other party, taking the liberty of all manners of physical contact. So he did the only thing he could think of, reached both hands behind Mao's head and untied her ponytail. Fighting away tears of his own, he brushed her hair away from her face and forehead with his fingers, and tied it back again neatly, being ridiculously meticulous about it. 

Once done, he did not know what to do with his hands, so he draped his right arm over her shoulders to grab her right shoulder from behind, like he would have done a teammate's shoulder. Her grip on his left arm grew firm, whether to steady herself or to reciprocate the ace camaraderie, he could not tell. Suddenly, Asahi was conscious of how they stood out, and self-aware of how they looked like to anyone passing by. Not letting go of Mao, he started to grow nervous about who might see the two of them and misinterpret their relationship. Strangely, Nishi was not among them, not because Asahi did not care about Nishi thinking he was romantically involved with Mao but because his friend was blunt to a fault and would get into Asahi's face and ask him about it before assuming things.

Not wanting to break contact with Mao all the same, Asahi had to acknowledge the surprising list of people he feared to be seen by, including Date Tech's Aone. He could only imagine not wanting to look like rubbing it in the blocker's face how he, like Mao, was out of the competition and thus needed consoling. He did not want someone as impressive as the white-haired boy to think that Asahi pitied him. Furthermore, he did not even pity Mao, only felt her pain. "Ugh," vibrated against his chest, bringing his thoughts back to what was instead of what could happen, "I'm catching your thing. It's embarrassing." "Hey," he intentionally made his voice as close to a whimper as possible, "not fair! I never wetted your shirt." 

She bumped a fist against his free arm, "That would've been inappropriate," said Mao, "Say anything to Yui, Tomoyo, or Yusuke, and I will deny everything and top it with some of your dark secrets." Uncertain of what ground she had for the threat, he still felt uncomfortable at the perspective. "Which part?" he asked, trying to feign ignorance. Her next punch against his arm hurt. "You can tell them I punched you." He decided to go for a taunt. "But I can't lie to our friends," he said. That happened to be a mistake because she changed to a pinching attack next, and Asahi had to fight hard not to cry out in pain. For some reason, her pinching technique was impeccable. "Then that," she said, and he could feel her face stretching for a smile against his chest before finally breaking contact and pushing herself away from him. He easily let go of her shoulder. 

"Urgh," she scrunched her forehead, "now I'll have to hear all about how cool you were in school." He started, "I don't think anyone would think..." and was interrupted by her, the two of them already walking back inside to join their teams. "Shut up! Are you an idiot? You were a total badass out there!" He looked down to see the wet spot that had spread over the KARASUNO HIGH SCHOOL print on his shirt, and covered it with his jacket. Once they had climbed the stairs, right before separating to sit with their respective teams, and in the earshot of everyone from their high school, Mao said, "I remain by my judgement, their number 1 was the hottest." Asahi looked around with sheer panic of how their teammates would interpret Mao privately giving him a piece of her mind on hot volleyball players, from boys' clubs, hot boys playing volleyball.

Instead, he realised that, fortunately, almost everyone was absorbed by the Aoba Johsai match. "Oikawa?" he heard one of the girls ask Mao, and squeezed through the aisles, pressed to distance himself from the conversation. He had just slumped in the safe empty spot between Suga and Daichi, only to hear Tanaka and Nishinoya growling that the pretty face should keep his paws away from Karasuno girls. 

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