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“Practice,” the old man said, facing the wall.
Shirabu waited in patient silence.
Washijou continued. “If we want to beat Karasuno this year we need more practice. The university teams we play against are good, but they’re all so structured, something most teams achieve by that age. What tripped us up with Karasuno is their unrefined tactics and unpredictable plays. So I called Anabara to set up a practice match with Johzenji.”
Shirabu didn’t trust himself to open his mouth, even as Washijou paused. His heart slammed in his chest. “When?”
“This afternoon. They should be here in about a half an hour.”
Why was he never notified of this kind of thing in advance. This perfectly explained the cryptic text message he’d received three days ago from Terushima. He would’ve prefered a bit of warning though.
“Thank you for telling me,” Shirabu said quietly, his tone edging towards sarcasm. “Do the others know or should I go tell them?”
“Kawanishi knows, I believe he told everyone else.”
Shirabu narrowed his eyes. “May I ask why you specifically called me into your office?” He knows , Shirabu started panicking.
“You’re acquainted with Johzenji’s captain, I’m well aware. I can’t have your intensity suffering because you’re friends.”
“If anything, I’m just going to go harder on them. It’s less of a friendship and more of a rivalry anyway.”
“Then don’t let your temper get the best of you.”
“Of course, sir.”
Through warm ups, Shirabu started getting antsy. Kawanishi came up behind him to ask him a question and almost got punched when Shirabu whirled around in surprise.
“My gosh.” Kawanishi put his hands up in front of him. “What’s wrong with you today—”
At that moment the doors to the gym opened and the yellow-clad forms of the Johzenji players filed in.
Shirabu’s eyes were immediately drawn to their captain. He exuded confidence like it was cologne and Shirabu could smell it from across the gym.
“You still freaking out about their captain?” Kawanishi asked, noting Shirabu’s wrinkled nose and glare.
“He’s still an ass. Avoid him at all costs.” Kenjirou walked away from his vice captain, though his eyes were still trained on Terushima and his heart was racing. He just needed to beat him, then he’d feel satisfied.
Almost an hour later, the goal had been achieved. Shirabu tossed solidly to Goshiki, trying to ignore the shock of blond hair on the other side of the net that kept drawing his attention. Really, it was probably all thanks to Goshiki that that last shot hit the floor on the other side. None of Shirabu’s tosses had been particularly strong that match and it was only the skill of their spikers that the match had been won.
It could’ve been comforting to Shirabu, knowing that his team could handle themselves pretty well even when he wasn’t at the top of his game, but instead it just made him angry. His simple, powerful toss was his weapon and that was failing him faced with Terushima on the opposite side of the court. Every time he went to toss, his confidence and force were suddenly met with a tsunami of cocky, unrelenting resistance. “ Are you sure, Kenjirou? ” it seemed to ask him. And suddenly he wasn’t sure anymore. His tosses were low and weak or too high and sporadic. He was losing his consistency, something that he prided himself on above all else.
And the strangest part of all of it was that he wasn’t worried about what his team would think. He didn’t even feel the looks of mild concern as they struggled to hit his tosses. His gaze was fixated on the other side of the court, fire sparking and hissing within him as he watched Terushima smile, swap jokes with his team, high five a few of them.
“Hey Shirabu,” Kawanishi approached him after they’d finished winning by a narrow margin. “Why are you sucking today?”
The bluntness wasn’t what set Shirabu off, he knew that was just Kawanishi’s backwards sense of humor. Shirabu snapped anyway. “Just get me away from him. I’m so done looking at his ugly face.”
Kawanishi sighed. “They’re leaving soon, it’s fine. Just don’t pay attention to him.”
That should’ve been a lot easier than it was. Terushima came to talk to him once more before the team departed.
“Looks like we’re going to have to work a little harder to beat you next time, eh?” The captain winked.
Shirabu glared. “Next time will be in a tournament and I will never let you beat us.”
Terushima laughed out loud, a bubbling, golden sound that Shirabu hated more than anything. “Did you not hear? We’re going to have practice matches every two weeks and maybe some joint practice sessions.”
Shirabu froze. This could not be happening. “Who let that happen?”
“Destiny, Kenjirou.” Terushima smirked and started walking away to follow his team striding back out the doors.
It took Shirabu a second to realize. “Hey!” He called loudly after Terushima, “Who gave you permission to call me Kenjirou!?”
Terushima didn’t turn around, just threw a hand up to wave over his shoulder.
Shirabu’s cheeks heated up as he noticed people looking at him.
Two weeks later, Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team climbed onto their bus for the trek to Johzenji, which was not as lengthy as Shirabu would’ve hoped.
They won once again, though the margin was even narrower. Kenjirou could feel Washijou’s eyes on him for every toss that was any less than perfect. He was called over immediately after the conclusion of the match, before he had a chance to talk to anyone.
“What are you thinking?” the coach asked him, his eyes like cold stones pressing against Shirabu’s heart, making a shiver rocket down his spine. “You’re still our best setter by a long shot, but I won’t hesitate to let one of the second years try their hand if you don’t think you can keep up with this.”
Shirabu felt like he was being torn in two. “I understand,” he said quietly.
Shirabu started heading straight for the gym doors, not feeling particularly conversational.
“Kenjirou, come talk to me!!” came a shout from behind him.
“STOP IT!” Shirabu yelled.
Terushima stopped in his tracks a short distance away.
“Stop trying to talk to me, you’re always distracting me!”
Terushima took one silent step backwards and Shirabu stormed out of the gym.
The rest of the team filed onto the bus, mostly clustering around the seat that Shirabu had stretched his legs across to keep people from sitting next to him.
Kawanishi parted the group of murmuring teenagers to slide into the seat directly in front of Shirabu.
“Alright, Shirabu. Out with it.”
Shirabu glared. “Just leave me alone for a while, I’ll be fine tomorrow once this insufferable day is over.”
“Oh no you won’t. It’ll be the same case as every time we play against Johzenji. You get weird around them.”
“They’re a weird team. I don’t like them. Especially their captain.”
“Why are you always staring at him then?” inserted a first year.
Shirabu stood up, rage in his eyes, when the bus suddenly started moving and he was pulled back into his seat. “I’m not staring at him, I’m just trying to figure out their plays.”
Kawanishi got them back on topic. “How does their captain make you feel?”
The direct question made Shirabu narrow his eyes. “Kawanishi Taichi, I will throw you off of this bus.”
“You’re avoiding the question now.”
“I don’t really know. He makes me mad. Because he keeps stealing my attention and making it hard to focus. And when he tries to talk to me, it’s like all the authority and harshness that I can have, leaves and I can barely keep up with his conversation.”
“Do you think about him outside of practice?”
“I know where you’re going with this, and no, I don’t have a crush on Terushima.”
“Then what is it. Because that’s not how normal friends act.”
“I dunno, he’s kinda my rival. He’s always giving me shit and I give him shit back,”
A second year listening to the conversation raised his hand. “If Terushima-san asked you out, would you say yes?”
“Hell no!” Shirabu snapped. “Who would be crazy enough to date him?”
“I mean... You...”
“Please, just let me die in peace.” Shirabu rested his head of the back of the seat in front of him.
“Text him!” yelled a first year.
“I don’t have his number!”
“Yes, you do!”
“So what!”
Kawanishi sighed as he noticed that they were pulling back into Shiratorizawa. “Shirabu, please just think and be honest with yourself for a little while. Do what you have to do, we need our setter back though.”
Shirabu blinked. He could be doing a better job of helping his team out. He owed it to them at this point. He nodded silently. “Next time will be better. I promise. I’m not going to let you guys down anymore.”
Later that night Shirabu pulled his phone out and texted Terushima, curtly apologizing for yelling at him.
“You’re fine, my fault. You seemed a little on edge, everything okay?” Johzenji’s captain responded a second later.
“Coach threatened to pull me.” Why had he said that? He hadn’t even told his team how angry Washijou had been, but here he was, telling Terushima Yuuji of all people.
“??????????????????? why tho??”
“Because I’ve been unfocused and my performance has been suffering.” Shirabu gritted his teeth.
“I thought you seemed fine? My setter was taking notes. And Futamata doesn’t ever do anything studious.”
“I’ve been sucking a lot lately.”
“You’re still winning...”
“Not for much longer at this rate. Remember the very first time we met on the court? You guys demolished us.”
“By no means did we demolish you...”
“Yeah, but you won. Which is like being demolished. If you’re us.”
“So what you’re saying is that next week we’re gonna have to work a lot harder since you’re going to be at the top of your game?”
Shirabu paused. “Are you offering encouragement?”
“You said that you’re better than what you’ve been doing. Who am I to say that’s wrong. But if you’ve got a secret weapon, I’d like to see it!”
Shirabu stopped texting. He couldn’t find the right words to respond and his heart was racing too quickly. He felt fired up, but unless he could bottle up that feeling for next week he wasn’t going to do any better.
“Hey, Kawanishi,” Shirabu said.
Kawanishi looked up from his desk on the other side of the room. “Yeah.”
“We’re gonna kick their asses next time.”
“Are we now.”
“Yep.” Shirabu nodded definitively.
Throughout the week, Shirabu had played through the match a hundred times. He knew who to toss to and what tosses worked best for everyone and he could visualize more or less what Johzenji would be doing. Well, he could visualize Terushima pretty easily. When Johzenji stepped through the doors, Shirabu wore a fierce gaze. He was more warmed up than he’d ever been, ready to prove to Washijou that he couldn’t be replaced on this team.
Contrary to the previous couple matches, this one only had the chance to make it to two sets, Shiratorizawa winning by at least three points every time.
When the final whistle blew, Shirabu felt the littlest bit guilty as he looked to the other side of the court for the first time during the match. But when he locked gazes with Terushima, the other captain was beaming.
As the casual mingling and conversation between teams began, Shirabu went directly to Washijou. “Sir, I’m sorry for my lack of focus the past few weeks. I hope today was better.”
“You know what you need to do, so just do it.”
The old man walked away to talk to Anabara and Shirabu was left slightly speechless.
“Good game,” came a voice from behind Shirabu, making him jump.
“Thank you. Better luck next time.” Shirabu eyed Terushima suspiciously. He was probably up to something. He always was.
“You planning on using this down time to talk to people?”
Shirabu glanced at the mingling. “Uh, not really. Not my thing.”
“You wanna get out of here?”
Shirabu blinked. “What do you mean by that?”
Terushima stood easily and nonchalantly rubbed his hand across the back of his head, but it was plain to see by the way his eyes darted back and forth that he was thinking hard and nervous about it. “I dunno. We could go to that little ice cream place down the street from here? If you wanted to, of course.”
Shirabu narrowed his eyes. “What are you asking me?”
“You know what I’m asking you.”
“Then just say it,” Shirabu said forcefully.
“Why should I if you already know what they are?”
“I’m not going to say anything until you say it out loud!”
“Will you go out with me?”
“Yes!” The prompt response surprised Shirabu as well and his eyes widened.
“Did you just say yes?”
“...no.”
Terushima cracked up and Shirabu looked away sullenly.
“I mean, I’ll think about it. I haven’t had a chance to really consider it.”
“I think you’ve thought about it before. And I think you know exactly what you mean.”
“And how do you know what’s going on inside my head exactly?”
“We all came to the same conclusion.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“The team and I.”
Kenjirou froze and glanced around, noting that pretty much everyone in the gym was watching them.
A smile tugged at the corners of Shirabu’s lips. “So they found out too, huh?”
“Bro, I’m pretty sure I mention you on an hourly basis.”
Shirabu raised an eyebrow. “Serious? I spend my time trying not to think about you.”
Terushima smirked. “Why’s that?”
Shirabu had to look down to hide his blush. “Because you distract me from whatever I’m trying to do.”
“So would it help you if we hung out and you didn’t have to worry about that?”
Shirabu’s mind was racing and he considered Terushima’s eager face. “A d-date.”
Terushima’s smile told Shirabu that he hadn’t failed to notice the slight stutter in Shirabu’s voice. “Kinda like that, yeah. Anabara said it was okay if we all stay behind to hang out and get to know each other a little better.” He gestured dismissively at the other members of the team. “We can ditch them, they’ll be fine.”
Shirabu abruptly turned away, running his hand through his hair. “Yes. Yes that was the plan.”
“And...”
Kenjirou spun back around and studied Yuuji’s face for several long seconds. “Ice cream it is then.”
Yuuji smiled. “I’m buying.”
“Oh no, no, no!” Kenjirou grabbed for his volleyball bag sitting against the wall by the gym door, pulling out his wallet. “You’re the guest around here, I’m paying!”