9 • Pros & Cons

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You must be willing to give up what you are in order to become who you want to be.❞

-Orrin Woodward


✿ 


"I understand," says the lady, who clearly does not understand, "you've lived with your grandmother for so long and now she's gone. It's a hard thing to go through, I'm sure."

You nod, despite the sudden urge to run away. 

You're in your house, and, since you're not eighteen yet, it's not even really yours. You're speaking to a social worker, who's trying to convince you to go to school. 

Her hair is in a tight bun and she's wearing round glasses. Honestly, she looks like a young librarian, and you can't help the fact you've already forgotten her name. Her face looks like a rat's, with her pointed nose and grimy smile.

"I want you to make a list," Rat-Face smiles, handing you a piece of paper and a pencil, "a list of pros and cons about going to school."

You take the paper from her and set it on the table, quickly making a t-chart and labeling one side 'pros' and one side 'cons'. 

Cons: 

People.

Expectations.

You'd be alone. And judged.

And you'd probably not know anything about everything, and you'd--

The social worker stops you, sensing your cons list is going to go on forever. She sighs. 

"Try to think positively," she suggests, giving you back he pencil and pointing to the pros side of the list.

Pros? 

uuuuhh . . . .

Rat-Face pushes up her glasses. "It can't be that hard. Imagine the friends you'll make."

She uses future-tense, suggesting that you're going to go to school no matter how long your cons list is. You're not surprised.

She takes the list from you, writing down a few things of her own.

Pros: 

People.

Something to look forward to.

You glare at what she wrote. There's a reason you put people on your cons list. 

She just smiles.

You continue the list, only to make her hopefully go away:

Something to focus on.

Get an education.

A chance to grow.

You smile at that last one, knowing that'll get you off of the hook, although you have no intention of growing or changing or whatever. 

You have changed in one way, though: ever since Grandma died, you've become colder than you normally were. 

She balanced you out. Now the scale is sideways, and you have no one to release your anger on. Except for Rat-Face, who won't leave you alone and who probably doesn't even care.

Deep, deep, deep down you want to stop. You want to just cry.

But instead you sigh and glare at the social worker.




Ah, the garden. The only place where you still feel a hint of normalcy, although nothing will ever be normal again. And just like clockwork, he shows up.

Every day at the exact same time.

"Heyo!" Shoyo chirps, and your mood immediately lifts, and the sun shines just a little brighter. 

He skips over to where you're standing in the garden, eyeing the sunflower you planted together. It's grown a little taller now, and it reaches just above his knees.

He grins. "It's getting there."

You nod. 

Shoyo frowns, probably sensing that you're gloomier than usual. "So," he says, "how's everything?"

He knows about Grandma and Rat-Face, so you don't have to explain that much.

"She wants me to go to school again," you say, referring to the social worker that was assigned to you. Shoyo tilts his head.

"That's actually a great idea!" He encourages you. "You could go to Karasuno with me! Then you wouldn't be alone!"

Your heart lightens at the thought. If you went to Karasuno, then you would at least know Shoyo and the volleyball club. 

He always finds a way to make you feel better.

"You're right," you smile, standing up, "I'll actually consider it."

Shoyo does a little victory dance, and you laugh. "C'mon, let's water the plants."

Shoyo grabs the hose and fills up the bucket you're holding. He tries to turn the spigot, but it doesn't budge. 

He grunts, turning it harder. You giggle. "Here, let me."

You put your hand on his, leaning over to reach the spigot. Together it turns, and water comes out of the hose, filling your bucket.

Only when you look up do you realize how close you are to Shoyo. 

His face is red, so it seems he noticed also. The spark in his eyes makes you blush too, and you back away quickly. 

"Th-there we go," you stutter, holding the bucket for it to be filled. "It was just stuck."

Shoyo laughs nervously. "Y-yeah, thanks."

He clutches the hose in his hand, and leans towards you. His face grows closer every second.

His cheeks are red, and for a second, you think he's going to kiss you.



But then he sprays you in the face with the hose.





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