Chapter Text
The air was frigid. Yaku stood before the doors of the Nekoma gymnasium, debating whether or not to open them and enter.
Well, it was more like he was prolonging the inevitable – he’d have to step in, have to slip on his kneepads, have to warm up with his team. Technically, he was already late, by his standards. 6:30 was his usual – he was often first to arrive – yet here he was, at 6:43 and still waiting upon someone else to force him into the gym.
Why exactly he was hesitating even he didn’t know for sure. Was it because he’d be stepping foot out of this gymnasium for the last time the moment practice was over? Was it because he couldn’t bear the thought of being unable to play on the same team as Kuroo, Kenma, Yamamoto, Fukunaga, and Lev?
Was it because he was afraid he’d start crying?
“Yaku-san!”
Yaku spun round to face the ever-enthusiastic first-year behind him. He tilted his head way up, up to look him in the eye – the beaming, sharp blue-grey eyes resembling a Russian Blue cat. Taking a brief glance at Lev up and down, Yaku frowned in disapproval. A t-shirt and shorts? In this freezing weather? Seeing as he was clutching his kneepads in one pale, long fist, he hadn’t changed after arriving at school – he’d run here in this state.
“Lev, how many times do I have to tell you to dress appropriately for the weather? It’s cold!” Yaku scolded, hands on his hips.
Lev grinned, albeit he had at least the sense to look sheepish. “I’m not cold, though, Yaku-san!” he claimed. A once-over of Lev proved otherwise, what with his trembling legs and restless feet anxious to go inside.
“Let’s go in before you catch a cold, you dolt,” Yaku sighed. He had expected to be dragged into the gym, not the other way around, but he supposed he would have gone in either way.
<<<3>>>
The moment the two stepped inside, Kuroo’s voice reverberated throughout the gymnasium. “Okay, hold it!” He commanded. “Let’s hustle in for a moment and wait for the rest to come in before we start practice. I’ve got a few words to say.”
Fukunaga, Yamamoto, Kenma, Inuoka, and a few others settled in a misshapen semicircle facing the Captain by one of the nets. Lev and Yaku joined them and the group shifted to accommodate the two.
A few minutes and several disheveled newcomers later, Kuroo announced, “That should be everybody!” He clapped his hands together once and it echoed throughout the gym; Yaku saw Kenma wince. “So! Most of you should know this, but today’s practice is our last for this year. It’s been a good run, and we’ve come far. I’d make a shout-out to each of you if I could, but I’ll keep this brief so we can all play instead; I figure it’d be a better use of our last time together.”
Lev interjected with a cry and the most confused look on his face Yaku had ever witnessed – and that was saying a lot. It was obvious this was all news to him. “Wait! This is our last practice?”
Kuroo nodded with a grin that hid his sympathy. “That’s right, Lev. There will be a dinner for all of us and the coaches, though, which I was about to get to –”
“– What?” Lev looked absolutely heartbroken. Yaku winced upon meeting his eyes. They were shattered seaglass. “So we won’t have another practice w-with the – the third-years?” His voice diminished.
Kuroo nodded again. Yaku murmured, “That’s right, Lev.”
Lev slumped and couldn’t stutter an answer.
<<<3>>>
All throughout practice, the air in the gym was a little heavier, the games a little shorter, the victorious cries of even jovial Yamamoto dampened. The team was just about as cohesive as ever, yet their plays lacked focus, only relying upon the unity that practice had engraved upon them. Everyone was preoccupied with the thought of the seniors leaving, and that the current team would be forever changed after the last practice. Kenma’s tosses were fine, but he kept eyeing Kuroo and Kai warily, letting only the slightest winces flit across his otherwise silent features every now and then. (Kuroo, sensing the setter’s dropping concentration, later pulled him out. The two returned with telling faces that bloomed with sanguineness soon afterwards.)
Yaku thought to himself, This is why I was considering skipping.
Lev was especially hard-hit, and it showed in his plays. Every time Yaku yelled at him to move faster or scolded him for an easy mistake, his face crumpled and his silver hair would fall over his face as he looked at his upperclassman and cried, “Sorry, Yaku-san!” His glum obedience affected Yaku more than he liked to admit. His most troublesome underclassman had never been this problematic – and he was playing worse than usual.
“Lev! I told you, READ BLOCK!” Yaku cried the moment Fukunaga’s ball hit the floor. The spiker’s usually stoic face split into a triumphant grin, but his eyes were tilted just slightly downwards.
“Sorry, Yaku-san!” Lev cried, but his eyes were at Fukunaga’s feet.
“Lev, look at me,” Yaku demanded. He was met with the face of a lonely puppy in the streets. He mentally winced. “C’mere for a moment.” He slipped off the court and headed towards the water fountain outside the interior gym door. Lev followed obediently.
Yaku looked up at him, then said, “Sit down, Lev.” Lev sat on the bench by the fountain and Yaku looked down at him, a little more satisfied. “Look –”
“– I’m sorry, Yaku-san!” Lev cried, voice choked. “I haven’t been hitting spikes properly, my receives have been way off, and my head’s been a puzzle for the entire practice!”
Yaku, dumbfounded, crouched before him to meet the blue eyes that were boring holes in the floor. He raised his hand and briefly considered giving Lev a whack and a sharp, “Get it together!” before thinking better of it and simply ruffling Lev’s silver hair.
“Calm down, Lev. I’m not about to yell at you.” He gave the most sympathetic smile he could muster.
Lev gazed at him. His eyes were on the brink of welling.
“Are you upset because this is our last practice?” Yaku inquired, knowing the answer.
“Y-yes! I can’t practice with you anymore, Yaku-san! Or Kuroo-san, or –”
“– That’s not strictly true, Lev,” Yaku interrupted. “We’re not really leaving; I’m going to the nearby university, and Kuroo’s only heading about an hour away. We can visit and play anytime.”
Lev’s eyes widened at hearing this. “Really?” Yaku’s heart tweaked at the lightened tone.
“Yeah. And you have my number, right? You can text me whenever you like and I’ll see if I can come help you with receives.” He grinned deviously. “I can still give you hell, too.”
Lev pretended to look mortified. “So… this isn’t really a ‘last practice,’ is it?”
“Not really, no,” Yaku smirked. He patted him on the back before standing. “So don’t look so down, Lev. Plus, pretty soon you can look forward to becoming a senpai yourself!”
Lev’s eyes sparkled at that. “I can be a SENPAI – like you!”
Yaku’s heart tweaked again, even harder. “Yep,” he nodded shakily. “Now, let’s go back before anyone thinks you’re bawling your eyes out.” He made his way to the gym entrance when Lev suddenly tugged Yaku’s arm and pulled him around to face Lev.
Yaku raised a brow and could see the momentary “Should I?” in Lev’s expression before he was abruptly pulled flush against Lev. He gave an undignified squeak - he didn't even come up to Lev's collarbone - before turning beet red and hugging him back, trying to keep his hand at an acceptable senpai-comforting-kouhai position and his face at a normal temperature. Neither was working so well.
Lev murmured a, “I’ll still miss you, Yaku-san” before sniffling and pulling away.
Yaku was dumbfounded once more. He snapped into focus before muttering in response, “I’ll miss you too, Lev” while hiding his red face. That didn’t work either.
“Yaku-san, do you have a fever?”
“N-no, you idiot Lev! Let’s go back!”
<<<3>>>
As he stood on the sidelines watching his teammates play, eyes watching Lev for signs of trouble, Kuroo stepped off the court to swap places with him. As they passed, he snickered, "That Lev’s pretty dense, isn’t he?”
Yaku choked.
Kuroo laughed and grinned at him. “Looks like you were too, huh?”
“W-WHAT!”
“I’m kidding,” Kuroo laughed, patting him on the back into his position.
Yaku managed a little snort in response.
<<<3>>>
All too soon, ninety minutes had flown by, and Kuroo yelled out, “Let’s wrap this up!” The entire team groaned in response, mocking their true displeased sentiments.
“Now, now!” yelled Yaku. “Put away the nets, and let’s gather.”
After hustling to scavenge the volleyballs and take down the nets, the Nekoma team sat in a tight circle. Each boy’s shoulders brushing the ones of those on either side of him, wishing to huddle as close as was physically possible.
“Good job, everyone, for making the most memorable volleyball team ever,” Kuroo announced proudly. At any other given time, Yaku surely would have called him out on cheesiness, but the occasion convinced him to let it slide. Kuroo cleared his throat, and although most thought it was to catch the team’s attention, Yaku was convinced it was to get past the choking of sentiments. “I’m not going to be too sentimental and gooey here, but you guys really made the last year of high school for me and the other third-year senpais the best. Everyone here worked hard and y’all had better make next year even better!” He held out his arms and motioned for the group to stand in huddle formation.
Inuoka looked ready to cry, but frail-hearted Shibayama (Yaku’s replacement for libero next year) had already begun shedding tears for him. Vice-captain Kai stood stoic and stalwart behind them all as they came together, arms upon one another’s shoulders, as though planning strategy.
“But hey, maybe next year,” Kuroo smirked as he glanced at the quiet setter – who shied away at his pointed stare – “Kenma can change up the team motto, eh?”
Kenma made a face worthy of a Mr. Bean film, and Yaku burst out laughing.
“Well, I figure that’s up to Yamamoto, isn’t it, Kuroo?” Kai reminded him. The future-team-captain fought tears to manage a grin.
“We’ll see about that!” he cried, but it was almost a blurted babble, and his normally well-arranged mohawk seemed about to fall apart. I feel the way you look, Taketora, Yaku thought with a grimace.
Lev wailed and murmured something about missing the third years in a mush that reminded Yaku of his scrambled eggs in the morning. “C’mon, Lev!” he barked. “Let’s get it together.”
Kuroo called out a last cheer. It echoed for what seemed like ages as the team stood silently together besides the sound of sniffling from Shibayama and Lev.
The members simultaneously let go of one another’s arms and settled in a small circle of sentiments for a while. Even Yaku felt obligated not to break it apart until the morning bell rang and Nekoma jolted with a start to scramble to change and make it to their first period class.
<<<3>>>
In the changeroom, Yaku sighed as he pulled his shirt off over his head. “Damn, this year went by too quickly,” he murmured. Each year passed too abruptly for his liking, and this one in particular had too many untied ends. Lev still sucked at passes, and Shibayama was still eager for help from his libero senpai.
“Yaku-san!” cried Lev as he poked his head through his shirt opening. “Yaku-san, can you help me with receives after school?”
Yaku grinned. This, he hoped, would never change – or, at least, until he was confident Lev could handle a spike of the likes of Azumane Asahi from Karasuno. “We’ll see if the gym’s open.”
As he turned to glance at his underclassman for assent, Yaku caught a glimpse of Lev’s ghostly-pale back, lean and taut, skin looking as fragile as a spiderweb. Veins ran across his spine and shoulder blades, reminiscent of coiling rivers and ravines. Yaku whipped around to put his shoes on hurriedly, receiving pointed looks from the socially-literate Kuroo and Kenma, and he slammed his locker shut after taking out his belongings.
“Stay out of trouble, all of you!” he exclaimed, and rushed out the –
“– YAKU-SAN, NO! YOUR PANTS! YOU FORGOT TO PUT ON YOUR –”