Chapter Text
“Attention passengers, we will be starting our descent in about ten minutes time, so if you need to use the restrooms or stretch your legs, now would be a great time to do so before the captain turns the seat belt sign on.”
Toru rubbed at his eyes under his glasses, just barely awake. The plane was still dark around him, the glow of the sporadic reading lights loosely illuminating the background beneath his barely open eyelids. A quick calculation in his head told him it must be early in the morning, as his flight was set to arrive at 9am Pacific time. Taking a deep breath, he let his head fall back against the headrest and stretched out his stiff arms. There was nothing more uncomfortable than sleeping sitting up. In a very small seat. Without enough leg room. In a too-warm and smelly flying metal tube. He couldn’t wait to get his feet back on the ground.
But for now, the ground of the cabin would have to do, and he clumsily reached beneath the seat in front of him and pulled out the small black pouch containing his toiletries. He dragged his water bottle with him, standing up and giving his legs a moment to adjust to their new position. He was terribly stiff, and would no doubt be sore for the rest of the day.
Walking down the aisle of the plane, he found a couple of people standing in line next to the pair of washrooms at the back of the plane. He lazily leaned against an empty seat, chewing the stale taste of sleep out of his mouth while attempting to work out some of the kinks in his neck and right shoulder. He must have slept with his head in a strange position. He’d always wondered if it would be rude to wake someone sleeping next to him to warn them that they would likely be in a decent amount of pain when they woke up if they remained in that position for long. He’d never had the guts to do it, but part of him wished his neighbor had been so courteous.
When it was finally his turn in the washroom, he made use of the toilet before washing his hands and brushing his teeth with the water bottle he’d brought with him. He’d been on enough planes to remember the ‘non-potable water’ signs all over the washrooms. Finally he slipped his glasses into their case and popped his contact lenses back into his protesting eyes before exiting the tiny cubicle. His eyes burned all the way back to the seat, and he wondered if he’d really gotten any sleep at all.
As the seat belt sign lit up, Toru felt his heart beat quicken. Of course this had nothing to do with the impending landing. He’d spent plenty of time on planes before, and in fact landing was his favourite part next to taking off. It was what landing meant.
A new country.
A new home.
A new school.
A new family.
A new world.
For better or worse.
He liked to think it would be for better. He wouldn’t have accepted the offer to come here if he’d thought otherwise. The school’s volleyball team was considered to be one of the best in the country, it’s training program world-renowned. He would have been insane to pass up the opportunity. Very few players on earth got invited to this kind of prestigious program. And yet leaving everything behind had been difficult to say the least. He had been planning to attend the University of Tokyo, which was easily the best option in Japan. But this was the USA, the sports capital of the world. Most people might think it ridiculous to pour as much money and funding into athletics as they did, but it showed on the world stage, and to Toru it meant a brighter future and a greater chance to accomplish his own dream.
So here he was, landing in an entirely foreign country, about to meet his host family and ready to start school the next day. He’d really pushed his arrival date to the absolute last minute, wanting to spend as much time at home as possible. He doubted he’d even be close to over the jet lag by the time classes started.
“Welcome to California,” the voice began, this time in English first rather than Japanese, despite the airliner’s Japanese heritage.
He tuned out the announcement, his anxiety levels increasing.
English. That might be the part that scared him the most next to leaving everyone he knew behind. Sure he’d studied the language for years like everyone else, and he was alright at it, but to be dropped into a city that knew nothing of his own culture or language scared the crap out of him. School was one thing, since he’d be taking several ESL classes designed for international students, but everyday life posed a major threat in his mind. What if he didn’t know how to say something or ask for something or explain something? What if he got lost and couldn’t ask for directions?
He knew he was just nervous. He had a translator on his phone, and he really did have a decent grasp on the language. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to calm himself down.
“Landings are pretty scary, hey?” The man beside him asked, in Japanese.
“Yeah,” he said in response, not wanting to elaborate. It was a shot to his pride, but he really didn’t care. After a few more minutes he’d never see this man again. Besides, as far as he was concerned, this was the man responsible for his sore neck for having not woken him up. He turned his attention to his cell phone, which was now powering on.
Iwaizumi: Text me when you get there
Iwaizumi: Hey did you make it?
Iwaizumi: Shittykawa are you alive?
He smiled at his friend’s messages, then typed his own response, indicating that he’d just landed. He had another message from his mom, to which he quickly replied as people around him began to stand up, gathering their belongings.
Toru followed suit, collecting his brown satchel and his navy leather jacket, zipping it up to his chin despite the hot air still being recycled throughout the cabin. He checked to make sure all his bags were zipped up, then waited, leaning on his seat until it was finally his turn to move.
He could feel his heart racing all the way off the plane and through the airport. He half expected the customs guard to accuse him of being a terrorist due to his inability to answer the questions, which had nothing to do with the language barrier. He was simply too nervous to answer properly. Finally he made it to the baggage carousel, half hoping that his bag would come off last so he would have more time to collect himself. He could feel himself sweating and he had no doubt that his face was red. His hair was probably a mess too, but for once, that was the least of his worries.
His luggage actually came out quickly, though he let it glide around the room on the carousel once before actually retrieving it, but only because it was extremely crowded. Or so he told himself.
His pocket vibrated again, and looking for any excuse to slow down, he retrieved it and tapped the screen.
Iwaizumi: I know you’re probably losing your shit right now
Iwaizumi: So chill the fuck out!
He smiled, pocketing his phone. He took a deep breath and carried on toward the exit sign. He knew his host parents would be waiting here, as they’d sent him an email indicating such. He didn’t know much about them aside from that the couple had a son the same age as him, starting at the same university as him. This had comforted him slightly, knowing that while the son was obviously still in his home city, he would at least be starting at a new school as well, and would be able to relate on that level.
As he approached the exit gate, he slowed, glancing around and over people to try to catch sight of his new host family. He had only seen one photograph of them, and he was now mentally kicking himself for not studying it further. How was he going to find them? But as the crowd forced him forward, he was relieved to see a sign with his given name written on it. That was going to take some getting used to; Americans all went by their given names, and it was completely normal and respectful to use them. He had read that it was in fact rude to call someone by their surname, and it really only happened between athletes.
Shaking his head, he glanced up from the sign to see two men and a woman just in time for them to spot him. The mother was the first to see him, and she quickly made eye contact, cautiously waving, in case she was mistaken. He felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, and she immediately began frantically waving to him, shaking her son’s arm as she pointed directly at him.
Toru felt the smile begin to fade from his lips as he took in the son’s appearance. He was tall, blonde and wore glasses on his sullen, unamused face. He looked as though he would rather be anywhere but there, and Toru immediately had a bad feeling about him.
But he quickly forced himself to remain cheerful, as he shifted his gaze to the tall man that must be his host father. He looked warm and compassionate, his arm draped around his wife’s shoulders.
“Toru!” The woman cried. “You made it!” She pulled him into an awkward hug over top of the bar still separating him from the crowd of people waiting to welcome their friends and family.
“Hi, sorry I’m late,” he said as he returned the hug clumsily with all his luggage still in his hands.
“It’s wonderful to meet you,” she said, pulling away from him. “I’m Teri, and this is my husband Ken and my son Kei,” she said. “But why don’t you come around and we’ll get out of here!”
He could still feel his pulse thundering through his body, anxiety coursing through his veins as he made his way around the railing.
His host father said something too quickly in English for him to understand before taking the heavy suitcase from him and leading the family out of the congested terminal.
The sun had come up since his flight had landed, but the sky was still dark and gloomy, the grey clouds threatening rain. The family was awkwardly quiet on the walk to the car, which was parked in a large multilevel parkade. The conversation finally picked up when the climbed into the white Ford SUV.
“So how was your flight?” Teri asked as he buckled his seat belt. It felt weird seeing Ken on left side of the car. Everything here was so backwards.
“It was good. Long, but good,” he said quietly.
“Did you sleep?” She asked.
“A bit.” In all honesty he wasn’t sure if that was true. He’d drifted in and out a bit, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever actually fallen asleep.
They gave him a bit of a tour on the drive him, pointing out important landmarks and placed the family dined at or visited often. He attempted to make a mental picture in his head so he’d have some bearing of the city, but they’d turned too many corners and taken too many loops for him to really grasp anything. It didn’t help that he was completely exhausted.
“There’s our house,” Teri said, pointing at the large white house at the end of the street. Even in the rain it was easy to see that the house was beautiful and well kept. It stood two stories high and had tall vaulted ceilings with a crystal chandelier hanging in the triangular window at the highest point of the house. The brick driveway and landscaping were immaculate; all the right plants perfectly trimmed and groomed to be the appropriate height. The display looked as though it belonged somewhere in a homes calendar.
“Welcome home,” Teri said as the car pulled into the garage. They parked next to a second car, this one a gold family sized sedan. Further over was a black sports car that looked a little older than the other two. Toru suspected that this was probably Kei’s car.
“Let’s get you settled in and then we’ll make some breakfast. I bet you’re starving,” Teri said warmly.
“Thanks,” Toru replied. He knew he should be hungry, but somehow he didn’t have much of an appetite. Maybe it was just nerves, but it seemed that anytime he was any kind of stressed, his appetite was the first thing to disappear.
“Kei, can you give him a tour of the house while I go put his suitcase upstairs?” Ken asked.
“Fine,” he sighed, his reluctance painfully obvious.
The first thing Toru noticed aside from the fact that the house was as beautiful on the inside as it was out, was that it was cold. Unnaturally cold. He refrained from removing his jacket along with his shoes as he followed Kei down the stairs.
“Alright listen,” Kei said with some serious intensity in his eyes, catching Toru completely off guard. “What I’m about to tell you is very important. I don’t know how good your English is, so stop me if you don’t understand, got it?”
Toru simply nodded, biting his lower lip anxiously.
“You and I are not friends. We are not brothers, nor are we family. I was against this whole hosting thing from the start, but my parents insisted. Just stay out of my way, and everything will be fine. Understand?”
Toru was about to respond and attempt to be friendly, but the look on Kei’s face stopped him. “Sure,” Toru said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.
“Good. Now let’s get this tour over with.”
Toru only loosely listened to what Kei said as he showed him around the house. He caught the purpose of each room, but didn’t bother to mentally translate anything else Kei said. The tour ended on the top floor in Toru’s bedroom. The room was spacious with hardwood floors and a large queen sized bed in the middle of the room. Aside from a closet, a desk and a dresser, the room was completely bare. The walls were naked, the duvet cover on the bed was plain white, and the drapes on the window were plain white. He could hardly complain, as he was being offered a place to live, but the room just felt very cold and unwelcoming.
Kei left him there without a word, and Toru hesitantly took a seat on the bed, pulling the strap of his bag over his head and placing it beside him. At least the bed felt soft. He wanted nothing more than to just curl up and go to sleep in it right now.
“Kei gave you the tour,” Teri asked, arriving in the doorway.
“Yes,” Toru said simply.
“Oh, this is Rasmus,” she said as a black and white cat stuck its head in the door. “She’s kind of antisocial, so don’t feel bad if she doesn’t like you,” she laughed. “Did you want to come down for some breakfast?”
“Ok,” Toru said, despite the fact that he wasn’t hungry and he would really rather just be left alone right now. His head was spinning and he was exhausted, not to mention the headache that had taken over the in the last few minutes. But he knew he needed to make an effort to interact with these people, even if one of three already hated him.
So he followed Teri downstairs, the cat darting away from him as he passed her. Kei was seated at the kitchen table, and Ken was standing over the stove with a large skillet filled with eggs. He awkwardly looked at the table, wondering which of the four seats would be unoccupied.
“Are you a coffee drinker, son?” Ken asked him.
“Yes,” Toru replied.
“Cream and sugar?”
“No thank you.”
“Good man. Coffee is meant to be consumed black, not loaded with sugar like how Kei makes it,” Ken said, placing the black coffee at the seat across from Kei, which was Toru’s signal to sit down. He glanced up from the cup to find Kei glaring at him.
“Thank you,” he quickly murmured to Ken, returning his attention to his coffee.
“So you boys have your orientation tomorrow, right?”
“Yep,” Kei said, his attention fully on his phone now.
“I actually have to miss it,” Toru said. “We have our first practice tomorrow morning.”
“That’s ok, Kei can show you around after,” Ken said.
Kei glanced up from his phone and shot Toru a glance that told him how unlikely that was. But he didn’t care. He’d find his way around. Perhaps some of the volleyball team would be able to give him a hand as well.
“What time is practice?” Teri asked.
“8:00 I think,” he replied.
“Kei, what time does orientation start?”
“9.”
“So can you drop Toru off early and then hang around?”
“Seriously?” Kei demanded, looking up from his phone.
“It’s ok, I can take the bus,” Toru spoke up.
“Kei, that was the deal when we bought you that parking pass,” his mother urged.
“I’ll drive him on days that he starts the same time as me,” Kei shot back, his eyes back on his phone.
That seemed to satisfy them, because the subject was dropped after that. Ken served up a delicious breakfast of fried eggs, bacon and fluffy breakfast rolls. Toru enjoyed it very much, but he wasn’t quite used to the grease, having come from a family that served mostly fish and rice, and his body was sure to remind him of that. Now he had a stomachache in addition to his already aching head.
Once they’d finished, Toru volunteered to wash the dishes, earning him another scoff from Kei. He ignored it and went to work in the sink.
“So we’re going for dinner at 6:30. Do either of you need to head to the university to pick anything up today?”
“Nope, I have everything I need,” Kei said, now pulling his shoes on in the doorway.
“I can get my things tomorrow,” Toru said. He really just wanted to lie down.
“Why don’t you get unpacked, Toru? Let me know if you need anything, alright?”
“Thanks,” he said, hanging the dish cloth up. “Um, could I trouble you for the WIFI password?”
It had been a rough start. Tsukishima Kei had been the first major bump in the road. He wasn’t terribly worried when he’d first encountered him, feeling that he could have chipped away at that rock hard exterior and eventually get to know the guy, but when he’d been cornered in the basement and told to stay away from him, he started to lose hope. He’d then spent the rest of the day up in his bedroom with a headache, trying to keep himself awake so that when night fell, he’d be able to sleep, and hopefully get himself onto California time by morning practice. His body however had other ideas. The family had gone to dinner at a steakhouse, which was just as greasy as breakfast had been, leaving him with another stomach ache. By the time they got home, he was so excited to go to sleep, yet somehow his mind was finally awake. He’d gone to bed around 8:30, but the last time he glanced at the clock it was after 2. He felt like he’d been asleep for mere minutes when his alarm went off and he had to get up.
When he got up, he realized he was not yet in possession of a transit pass, nor did he have any American money to pay the fee, so he’d been forced to ask his host mother. She was more than willing to give him the money, but it felt humiliating all the same. At least the weather had decided to cooperate with him, and while it wasn’t raining today, it wasn’t exactly sunny either. It was just dull and grey. He was fairly certain that it was actually warmer outside than in the house. He couldn’t understand why anyone would want to keep their house so cold.
When he’d finally made it to school, he had to search out the gym he was expected in. Once he found that, he had to find the rest of the volleyball team. Finally he spotted a couple of guys with duffle bags with the image of a volleyball on it and he’d approached them. They’d greeted him nicely enough, but as soon as they turned away one of them whispered something in quick English to the other and the both laughed. This did nothing to settle his nerves. Nevertheless, at least he knew where he was going now.
Toru was surprised when they lead him to a weight room. The rest of the team was obviously present, as most of them wore matching long sleeved shirts. He had never spent much time in a weight room in high school, preferring to hone his skill more directly through practice. It wasn’t completely foreign to him, he’d been to the gym a few times, but it was certainly out of his comfort zone.
“Hey you must be the new kid!”
“The import!”
“I hear you’re going to be the regular setter.”
“They brought you in all the way from China, but you don’t look like much,” someone teased.
Toru chose not to point out his obvious mistake, feeling the hostility immediately, and sensing the impending threat.
There were more jeers tossed around, some words he didn’t understand, other statements he could pick out random words. He felt at a disadvantage, and it was scary since he couldn’t tell if the guys were joking or not.
“Now guys, let’s not judge him until we see him play. Save it for afternoon practice,” the redhead said. The words sounded encouraging, but there was something scheming in his voice and in the way he said it. Still, this was a better direction than previously.
“Say, new kid, you got a name?”
“Oikawa,” he said timidly.
“Oikawa,” the redhead said, slinging a powerful arm around his shoulders, “you know your way around a weight room? You look pretty scrawny.”
“Kind of,” he mumbled in response.
“Let’s see how much he can bench,” the redhead laughed.
Toru found himself roughly shoved down onto the bench on his back, trying to regain his bearings as he heard plates smacking together.
“Arms up buddy!”
All of a sudden the bar was hovering over his head, and he complied by lifting his arms. The guys were not gentle letting go, and soon he found much more weight than he could handle crashing down on him, hyperextending his wrists and compressing his sternum.
“Alright you got this! Now lift!”
He squeezed his eyes, struggling to keep the bar from completely crushing his chest, but he could barely exert enough force in this position to keep it from killing him, let alone being able to lift the bar and fully extend his arms. All he could do was clench the bar tightly and keep it from rolling back onto his neck.
“Don’t let go, you can do it!”
“Hey!” A deep voice called.
Less than a second later, he was relieved of the bar, and the room had gone silent.
“What’s going on,” the voice said once more, this time sounding closer.
“Captain! Nothing’s going on. We were just helping him with his bench press!”
“Is that right?” The voice was now standing directly over him, and Toru chanced a peak.
“Maybe just giving him a proper initiation as well,” the redhead said honestly.
The kid standing over him could hardly be called a kid. He had the body and aura of a man, his body wracked with hard muscles, every ounce of him screamed maturity. But that wasn’t all. He was quite possibly the most captivating person Toru had ever seen. Captivating in the sense that he was beautiful, but he was so much more than that. The way his brow creased in concern called to him. The way his shoulders were set back with natural confidence. And the way his dark olive eyes seemed to pierce Toru, as if revealing every ounce of his being to this beautiful stranger. It was a feeling he’d never felt before, and one he couldn’t describe. He was gorgeous and enthralling, but at the same time he was repulsive. Something about him terrified Toru, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Are you ok?” He asked, his words reverberating through Toru’s head. All he could do was stare.
“Yes,” he finally said, as though in a trance.
“You guys are idiots. This is dangerous and if I catch it again, there will be hell to pay.”
He extended his left hand to Toru, causing him to jump, as though he was going to be hit. He felt his mind clear, and he returned to reality. He ordered his brain to shut up, and managed to block out the daydream still threatening to consume him.
“Yes Captain,” the guys said in unison.
He realized he’d been absently clenching his left wrist, which now ached profusely, and his body was still wracked with heavy breathing. He managed to compose himself enough to take the Captain’s left hand, though he took it with his right. The guy must be left handed, he thought to himself.
The large calloused hand enveloped his own, and it didn’t take much for him to pull Toru to his feet, the guy’s right hand finding his shoulder as he righted Toru then guided him out of the room. He could immediately hear whispered behind him, but they were cut off as a door was closed behind him, and Toru found himself in what appeared to be an office with a large desk in the middle and a decent amount of fitness equipment scattered around the room.
“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair opposite the desk, then seating himself at the desk.
The team had indicated that this guy was the captain, but he almost seemed more like a coach right now.
“Toru Oikawa, am I right?” He asked, leaning his chin into his hands, propped up on his elbows on the desk.
“Yeah,” Toru replied hesitantly. He was not usually this nervous around people, but this guy was downright menacing, that in addition to the scare he’d just had.
“I’m Wakatoshi Ushijima, team captain,” he said.
“Nice to meet you,” Toru said quietly. His pulse was finally beginning to slow as he managed to stay out of his own head.
“Are you ok?” He asked again.
“Yeah, fine,” he lied.
“Let’s see you wrist,” he said, holding his left hand out to him once again.
Toru hesitated, not wanting to let the sore limb out of his own grasp.
“I’m studying sports therapy, if that helps,” Wakatoshi said, more softly now.
Toru obliged, reaching across the desk to offer his hand.
This time he could actually focus on the feeling of the other’s hand. He was only a couple of inches taller than Toru, but his hands felt like giants as the hardened fingers ran over his own slender wrist and the back of his hand. He felt his pulse quicken once more, and he hoped Wakatoshi either couldn’t feel it, or he would simply assume that Toru was still just shaken up, though the more he thought about it, that idea wasn’t appealing either. He hated how timid he’d come across to everyone in his first twenty-four hours in America. He wasn’t like this. He was outgoing and charming and confident. But his world had been flipped upside down. And he simply hadn’t had time to adjust.
“It’s not swelling, so I don’t think there’s any major damage. Can you tell me what hurts?”
Wakatoshi began gently moving his wrist around, grasping his fingers in a kind and calming manner, almost making it feel like they were holding hands. He nearly lost himself in the feeling again, savoring the closeness he felt.
“Toru?”
He quickly snapped back to reality, more because he realized what he was doing rather than the pain he felt as Wakatoshi bent his wrist backwards.
“Ouch,” he jolted, louder than necessary.
Wakatoshi sighed, pulling a roll of tape from the top drawer of the desk.
“Look I’m sorry about those idiots. They’re a well-behaved bunch of guys most of the time, but sometimes when I’m not around they get carried away. They’re giving you hard time because it’s been a long time since we had an exchange student on our team, let alone someone who was brought in from another country just to play for us. Our current setter is a bit bitter, and they’ve got a pretty heavy team mentality. I’m just giving you a heads up,” Wakatoshi said as he wrapped a few layers of tape around Toru’s wrist, anchoring it around his thumb. Toru barely caught a word of it however, as he studied the other boy’s features. His concentrated eyes, his thin but heavy eyebrows knit in concentration, the light display of freckles barely visible across his nose, and his sharp lips, pulled into a line across his mouth.
“Keep that on for evening practice, and if it’s still bad later we’ll hook you up with the team’s physician.”
“Thanks,” Toru said quietly as he pulled his hand back into his lap, disappointed at the loss of contact with Wakatoshi. It was amazing how someone so big and strong could be so gentle and delicate.
“We’re back in the weight room tomorrow morning, and I want you to work with Takeda, he’s our teams personal trainer. You guys can establish a workout routine for you that doesn’t involve bench pressing your own weight.”
“Sure,” Toru said, unsure of what else to say.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Wakatoshi asked again, his face displaying pure concern in contrast to his harsh voice. That was going to take some getting used to.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Alright. Hit the treadmill, ok?”
“Got it.”
“And I have no problem with headphones,” he hinted.
Toru nodded.
He pulled the sleeves of his training shirt down over his hand as he followed Wakatoshi out of the room. Tape was commonplace on the volleyball court, though he’d never used it a whole lot himself, but he wasn’t quite ready to display just how much these guys had hurt him yet. He didn’t care about practice later, since then he could at least showcase his skills, but a part of him wished that he could have continued to hide in the office with Wakatoshi.
But at least now the captain was in the room with them, maintaining order. He climbed onto the treadmill, pulled his headphones on, and set his pace. No one bothered him as he completed the better part of 12K in the remaining time, and it wasn’t until Wakatoshi waved his hand in front of him that Toru realized it was time to head out.
He avoided the locker room entirely, choosing to remain sweaty and gross rather than shower with everyone else. He was coming back to practice later anyway.
He shouldered his bag and headed past the locker room, hearing Wakatoshi’s heavy voice, which sounded nothing short of angry.
Toru’s day didn’t get much better after that. He got completely lost trying to find the building where his international students group met, and when he finally did track them down, he had to explain to his group’s coordinator why he’d missed the morning orientation. He’d been scolded in choppy English and told he was not allowed to miss any more morning meetings, and as there was one every Friday morning, he had a feeling it would continue to be an issue.
While the morning was occupied with orientations, afternoon classes were in session. After arriving late to his calculus class, he took his laptop and located the whereabouts of every other building he had classes in. Even so, he was still late to his Physics class after walking ten minutes across campus to get there. Surprisingly, he found Kei in both of his classes so far, and while the pair had made quick eye contact initially, Toru kept his word and stayed out of his way.
By the time he got to evening practice, Toru was tired and dejected. He was still in a bad mood from the incident in the weight room, and he was not looking forward to facing his teammates again. On top of that, he’d scuffled with his morning instructor, missed the part of his calculus lecture where they’d gotten into study groups and was therefore forced in as the fourth member to an unwilling group, and he’d failed to understand a lot of what his physics professor had said as he had a very thick European accent. He really just wanted to go home, take a shower and pretend today had never happened. Maybe a proper sleep and a fresh start would rejuvenate him and convince him that coming here wasn’t in fact a terrible idea.
And so he found himself walking into the gymnasium, late once again, where Wakatoshi lead him to the locker room and showed him his team locker. He changed into shorts and a t-shirt before slipping into his kneepad, knee brace and court shoes.
He watched as one of the players elbowed the redhead in the ribs, pointing at his still taped wrist. The two appeared to be laughing, and he immediately felt self-conscious.
He tried to tell himself not to worry about it, to focus on volleyball and practice, and to hopefully gain their respect on the court. He wouldn’t care if they weren’t his teammates, but he was going to be seeing a lot of these guys, and the time together would be far more enjoyable if they all got along.
“Alright guys, line up!” An authoritative voice called from across the gym. The tall, blond man appeared to be the coach, though he couldn’t be much older than most of the players, not to mention the fact that he looked younger than Wakatoshi.
As Toru reached the line of players, he found the coach was handing out coloured pinnies like the ones he’d worn in high school PE class. He slowed as he got to him.
“Ah, you must be Oikawa. I’m coach Ukai. Good to meet you. You can be blue,” he said, handing the shirt to him.
Toru, unsure of what to say, remained quiet as he took the pinnie and put it on.
He soon found that Wakatoshi, the only other player whose name he knew, was on his team as well. The player that had initiated the sequence of events that lead to him holding a bar much heavier than he could handle and nearly killing himself was wearing a yellow shirt, and was on the opposite side of the net. Maybe the players hadn’t rotated around properly yet, but he boy was currently standing in the setter position.
As it turned out, his assumption was correct, and things became a bit clearer to Toru. He’d dealt with rivalry within his team before, and it had stressed the hell out of him and lead to a devastating injury, but he knew now how to deal with it. He also knew that in this case, he’d been brought half way across the world to play here, so no matter how good this other setter was, he knew he stood a very good chance of being a starter. They hadn’t brought him all the way from Japan to sit on the bench.
He soon learned that the setter’s name was Eita, and he was clearly very competitive and hot headed. The first serve was Wakatoshi’s, and resulted in a service ace. Toru watched the pure power of the serve as he it flew over his head, but his immediate thought was that while it was in a decent spot, it lacked control. The other side managed to dig up Wakatoshi’s second serve and slam the ball out of their second-string Libero’s reach. By the third point, Toru was anxious to get his hands on the ball, but his side only managed to dig up the serve and send it back in the direction from which it came. Finally by the fourth point, their libero dug up the serve and got it to Toru. It was then that he realized how difficult this position was going to be when he knew nothing about his team. His first toss was to Wakatoshi, who slammed it hard into the ground with his left hand, earning them a point. This earned him a simple “nice toss” from Wakatoshi, though Toru knew he could do better. He’d never even played with a left handed spiker, and he knew he had so much to learn. He wasn’t getting any feedback from Wakatoshi or anyone else, so all he could do was observe and attempt to make his tosses work.
Nobody responded much to him, and he preferred it that way, but at the same time it made him anxious. They were all talking about him, and he could feel their eyes burning into him, as if waiting for him to sprout wings and fly. Despite the pressure, he felt alright. His tosses felt fine considering he didn’t know any of his spikers’ habits, and he even managed to get a couple of spikes in himself. He’d had an opportunity for a dump, but he didn’t feel like invoking the wrath of Eita at this point, so he kept his play relatively humble. When it came his time to serve however, several players sounded impressed as he managed two service aces, then two more points that the other team failed to produce on.
As he really started to feel as though he was getting into the grove however, the coach blew the whistle and told them in was time to move onto other drills.
“How’s the wrist?” Wakatoshi asked him as they grabbed their water bottles.
“Fine,” Toru said, hesitantly offering a smile.
Wakatoshi nodded in response. “You looked good out there,” he said simply before turning away.
Toru felt his heart race as he watched him walk towards the coach, his eyes travelling down his body, narrowing in on his perfectly chizzled legs, his firm, muscular ass and his wide set shoulders filling out his t-shirt perfectly as it shadowed his lower back.
He shook his head and forced his eyes away. He could not do this right now. He was already at odds with half the team. The last thing he needed was the one person he was on speaking terms with catching him checking him out.
He heard the click of a tongue behind him and he froze.
“Tsk tsk, compliments from Wakatoshi are hard to come by.” He turned to find the read head who had helped crush him with weights earlier that day.
He chose not to respond, still too nervous and insecure to say anything.
“He’s right though. I’m excited to see what else you can do.”
Practice dragged on from there on out. The jet lag was hitting him and his body was sore and exhausted, but he gave it everything he had. He knew he needed to get a better sleep tonight if he wanted to keep himself in top form, not to mention eat a healthier lunch. He’d found the cafeteria he’d gone to was filled with more greasy food, and he hadn’t had time to search for another one before his next class. He made a mental note to ask Teri if he could pack his own lunch tomorrow.
Once again, he avoided the showers and the locker room as much as possible, electing to shower when he got home. He changed out of his shorts and shoes and put his jeans and hoodie back on before heading out.
He pushed open the door to reveal the darkness of the campus. This part of his evening wasn’t strange. It was normal for it to be dark when he left practice. What was weird was leaving at the same time as everyone else. Usually he’d stick around afterwards and practice serving for at least another half hour. But he wasn’t even close to comfortable with his new team, so he decided to leave when everyone else left. His old team understood his ways. These guys did not.
On top of that, he knee was bothering him more than usual today, and while that never stopped him before, it was worrisome since he hadn’t really overexerted himself today.
As he glanced around the campus trying to get his bearings so he could find the bus stop, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was obviously a call, since it kept on vibrating, and he retrieved his phone to see an angry brunette’s face on his screen.
He clicked the green button, and the bright photo was replaced with a darker, more fluid version of his best friend.
“Iwa-chan, what a pleasant surprise,” he said, forcing a smile.
“Do you not check your phone, idiot?”
“I just got out of practice, sorry,” he said sheepishly. Damn it felt good to be speaking Japanese again.
“God I thought you were dead in a ditch or something,” Hajime said, shaking his head.
“Nope! I’m A-Okay!” He replied, offering his index and middle finger in a peace sign.
“What happened to your hand?” Hajime asked, his voice dropping an octave.
Shit, he thought to himself.
“Oh this?” He asked, holding his still taped left hand up as he cursed himself for not removing to tape while frantically wracking his brain for an excuse. “Our team was in the weight room this morning and I started lifting weights without really knowing what I was doing. It’s completely fine though, the trainer just wanted to be extra cautious.”
It wasn’t a total lie, but hopefully it would keep his best friend from worrying more than he already was.
“You’re an idiot,” Hajime said, sounding like a broken record. “You need to take better care of yourself. You know your scholarship is on the line, right? They didn’t just bring you over there so you could look pretty while sitting on the bench.”
Shots fired. The words hit him harder than he let on, but maybe it was just because he was so physically and mentally exhausted.
“I know, Iwa-chan. Don’t worry about me,” he said casually.
The look on his friends face told him that he should have retorted with a comment about how they’d be lucky to have him sitting on the bench looking pretty. He knew his response wasn’t like him, but he didn’t have it in him at the moment.
“Toru, are you ok?” He asked seriously.
“I’m fine, stop worrying. I’m just a little jet lagged and dealing with a large dose of culture shock. Give me a few days, ok?”
Hajime didn’t look convinced.
“Look, I’m about to step off campus and I’m going to lose my WIFI. I’ll text you later, ok?”
“Alright, take care of yourself Shittykawa.”
He clicked his tongue and winked at him, offering another peace sign before ending the call.
He sighed deeply as he pocketed his phone, feeling like he could breathe normally again. That call had taken more out of him than he cared to admit. It was nice to hear from his friend, but he couldn’t maintain his façade right now, and showing Hajime his current mental state was not an option. He already worried too much. He loved him for it, he really did, but it wasn’t necessary. He could take care of himself. He was going to be fine. He just needed a few nights of sleep and a couple more practices to get to know his team.
Or so he told himself.