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Winter was the worst season, Sakusa decided. Cold weather was the most taxing. He could practice volleyball on the beach during summer or even spring, but come autumn and winter that was no longer an option.
So having the Under-19 Intensive Training Camp in the dead of the coldest season of the year? It was inconvenient, to say the least. Sakusa’s nose was always red and his fingers were better used to chill drinks than spike a volleyball. Plus, it was typical others to catch small bugs during this time of year. Sakusa fit into the "germaphobe" archetype. He wore masks and gloves at all times he could get away with it. Other people were disgusting, filthy things. Sakusa hated large crowds and interacting with other people was usually a pain.
It was a miracle Sakusa managed to be attending the Under-19 camp as a first year in high school. Sakusa felt honored to be included. He was cold, though. He wore his sweats as the members of the camp stretched and refused to remove his layers even as the group started drills.
It was cold. Sakusa refused to die of hypothermia.
During water breaks, Sakusa would hold his Pocari Sweat with the sleeves of his sweater, hands tucked safely inside.
It was on the third sip that another wing spiker approached Sakusa — an older boy by the name of Ushijima Wakatoshi. His running shorts read “Shiratorizawa.” A school of swans. Though Sakusa had no room to judge when his own school was a mountain of weasels.
“You will drop your bottle if you hold it like that,” Ushijima said, drawing Sakusa’s thoughts away from school mascots.
“Hm?” Sakusa replied. He didn’t know how else he should.
Ushijima didn’t look offended at the short response, merely pressed on. “I have a teammate who tries to do the same. He drops it every time.”
Sakusa lowered his bottle to examine it. He had never done such a thing, but it seemed probable. And he would only grow colder if he were to spill his drink. With a frown, Sakusa lodged the bottle between his knees while he pushed his hands through his sleeves. The next time he took a drink, he held the bottle with his bare hands. It wasn’t unbearably frigid, but Sakusa couldn’t call it comfortable, either.
Still, Ushijima looked pleased as he sat down beside Sakusa.
“It’s cold,” Sakusa said.
“It is winter,” Ushijima replied.
Sakusa crinkled his nose. Just the mention of the season was unpleasant.
Setting his bottle down, Sakusa wiped the condensation onto his sweatpants. Incidentally, he did this at the same time Ushijima reached into the pockets of his shorts. Sakusa’s fingers somehow managed to brush against Ushijima’s forearm. It was a very subtle touch, and Sakusa thought maybe it should be uncomfortable. He didn’t mind it himself, but maybe Ushijima did.
“I—” Sakusa was ready to apologize, but he stopped short when Ushijima took one of his wrists in his grasp. Was he going to break it? Sakusa blinked, wondering if Ushijima was that cruel. He didn’t seem to be.
And then Ushijima dropped a KAIRO hand warmer into his palm. Sakusa blinked down at it, slightly amazed and a bit confused.
Ushijima was already speaking when Sakusa looked up to question him. He still held Sakusa’s wrist.
“You do not like the cold,” Ushijima said.
Sakusa tilted his head. How did Ushijima know that?
“You keep trying to spike with your hand hidden in the sleeve. That is not productive. You should warm your hands so you can play at maximum potential. I would like to see your full skills.”
Oh. Oh.
Sakusa blinked again, looking down at the small hand warmer. It fit well in his palm. Ushijima was still holding his wrist, but let go when Sakusa moved to shake the square. Sakusa was pleased with the temperature of the thing once he had shaken it thoroughly enough. What a wonderful invention.
“Thank you,” Sakusa said, pressing the KAIRO to his cheek. It was very warm.
“I have more if you would like to use them,” Ushijima said, standing.
Sakusa looked up at him, really looked at Ushijima. He was strong, even for just a second year in high school. Though it made sense. Ushijima had been a formidable volleyball player since junior high. He was famous amongst the entire nation. An ace ranked in the top five in all Japan.
He was handsome, too, Sakusa decided. Ushijima had a strong build and a stronger gaze. He had an intimidating air about him, but after this interaction, Sakusa was convinced Ushijima wasn’t cruel at all.
A cruel person wouldn’t notice Sakusa hated the cold, much less offered him a way to stay warm. Or held his wrist for so long in such a gentle way.
Sakusa looked down at his shoes, forcing his gaze away from Ushijima. It was odd, the feeling settling over him. Maybe it was just the experience of being reached out to by someone like Ushijima.
Not that Sakusa wasn’t categorized in the same league as Ushijima. Both of their teams were going to nationals this year. They’d both been invited to the same camp and Sakusa intended to stand at the same level as him one day. Maybe even surpass him.
“Oh,” Ushijima said, turning to face Sakusa once more.
Sakusa raised his eyebrows slightly before he stood as well. He was shorter than Ushijima, his shoulders not as broad. Not yet. Sakusa would get there.
“I would like to exchange email addresses.”
Sakusa could have gasped, or gaped at the very least. But he didn’t. He was able to keep it together as he nodded, although slowly.
“Okay,” was all he said. Simple. Affirmative.
“Even if you have not been playing at your full potential so far, I know you are a strong player.” Sakusa hadn’t asked him why, but Ushijima still gave him a reason. It was… oddly endearing. “I would like to keep in contact while we’re not in camp. If that is all right with you.”
Sakusa nodded. “That's fine.”
“After today’s practice,” Ushijima said. “We will exchange them then. Are your hands warm enough now?”
Turning his gaze down to his hands, Sakusa figured his entire body was warm enough to spike at full power. He would show his full potential. He would impress Ushijima and earn that email address.
As it turned out, Sakusa had surpassed Ushijima’s expectations. They exchanged emails after practice and sat together while they ate dinner. Sakusa sent a message to Ushijima (just to check that nothing had gone wrong in the exchange) while they were lying down to sleep and the two ended up having an in-depth conversation about the difference between volleyball played in a gymnasium and volleyball played on the beach.
Sakusa had intrigued Ushijima enough that he wanted to try, so Sakusa told him that if he was still interested in the summer, he could come visit him in Kanto. Sakusa only lived a few miles away from the beach and he visited often. His tanned skin even in winter was proof of it.
Over the course of the training camp, Sakusa came to find routine in seeking out Ushijima. They sat together at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They talked in their minimal way about volleyball and their respective teams and what other interests they had. Ushijima liked plants. Sakusa liked the ocean. Ushijima had an umbrella cockatoo for a pet. Sakusa had a red-eared slider turtle. They both preferred spring, though. Sakusa was pleased to learn that.
By the end of the camp, Sakusa had found a friend in Ushijima. Someone to talk to when he wasn’t sure if anyone else would like his company. He was never nervous about seeking out Ushijima; most of the time, it was Ushijima who did the seeking.
On the last night of camp, Sakusa laid on his side as he studied Ushijima’s sleeping form. Sakusa typically fell asleep first and woke up second between the two of them. Sakusa didn’t know if Ushijima snored. He didn’t chance it, just watched the way Ushijima’s lips parted and his chest rose and fell with each breath. He was still just as handsome as the day he’d given Sakusa a hand warmer.
Sakusa was just about to go to sleep when Ushijima opened his eyes and raised them to meet Sakusa’s gaze. With a sudden jump-start of his pulse, Sakusa inhaled sharply through his nose, startled and very much awake.
“Sakusa,” Ushijima whispered. Even with his voice lowered, his deep voice seemed to boom through the sleeping area.
“Wakatoshi-kun?” Sakusa whispered back, knitting his eyebrows together.
“I can feel you watching me. Is there something you want to ask?”
Sakusa shifted to lie on his back and looked up at the ceiling. He was silent for a long while, so long Ushijima called his name again to make sure he was still awake.
“At nationals,” Sakusa finally murmured, glancing back at Ushijima. “If we meet… I won’t go easy on you.”
Ushijima stared back, and it might have been the lack of lighting playing tricks on his eyes, but Sakusa could have sworn he saw the older ace smile.
“I would be upset if you did.”
Sakusa turned so his back faced Ushijima, so the lack of lighting wouldn’t play any tricks on Ushijima’s eyes. He grinned to himself, excitement flowing through his veins. He hoped Itachiyama would play against Shiratorizawa in nationals. He hoped he would get to see the team Ushijima had praised so much. He wanted to show Ushijima his own team, as well. To stand across the net from Ushijima and share a look that said, “Look at my team. Watch us thrive. Watch us win.”
“Goodnight, Wakatoshi-kun,” Sakusa whispered, pulling his blanket up so it covered his head.
“Sleep well, Sakusa.”
And for once, Sakusa didn’t have to worry about his cold hands. The beating of his heart kept him warm throughout the night.