gravity | r. suna ✓

five

- Wednesday, 6:05pm -

At the end of practice, Suna leans against the wall, wearing a new white cotton shirt and jacket, waiting for me to put the gym back to how it was. I walk over to him after the gym is cleaned up, wondering why he came to watch.

Before I can ask, he says, "I forgot to thank you for yesterday."

"No need," I shrug. "It was kind of unsaid."

The corner of his mouth lifts in a half-smile. "Well, I just wanted to let you know I did well."

I can't stop my face from lighting up. "You finished it?"

"Yep," he replies, smiling back at me. It's a weird thing, to see Suna smile. It's a wonderful thing.

I reset my face to how it normally is and raise my eyebrows, smirking. "What an amazing tutor you have," I tease cockily.

"Yes, yes, it's all thanks to you," he replies sarcastically.

He walks to where we keep the balls and takes one, spiking it at me. I receive it badly, not expecting the sudden attack. He runs under it and sets it, and I spike it back at him.

It's a drill both Inarizaki teams often use to warm up. It's fun and pretty simple, and it warms up your whole body and most of the skills used in volleyball.

After around 15 minutes of playing this in silence, with none of us messing up, Suna catches the ball I set to him. "It's getting late. You should go home."

He's right. It's past seven.

"You're right," I reply, walking to where I left my volleyball club jacket and shrugging it over my shoulders. "Let's go."

For most of the way home, Suna and I walk in the same direction. Two minutes away from my house, he stops, so I do the same.

"I go in this direction," he says, pointing in the opposite direction to where I go.

I give him a half smile. "This is where we part ways, then."

"I guess so."

He turns to walk away, but I suddenly remember something I meant to ask him.

"Wait, Suna." I call. He turns around, stopping. "What did you think about our practice?"

He thinks for a minute, his head on an angle. His looks up, his face blank. "You play like when you're on the court, you can breathe."

This confuses me. I reply, "Does it not look like I'm breathing when I'm not on court?"

He doesn't reply, just turns and walks away.

I think about the times when I struggle to get enough air into my lungs. I think about how my chest is always tight. I didn't think it was noticeable.

- Wednesday, 7:23pm -

When I get home, there's a note on the kitchen counter, telling me that my dinner is in the fridge to heat up in the microwave. This means that my parents won't be home until early in the morning.

I take my pre-made dinner out of the fridge and stick it in the microwave, setting the timer to 4 minutes. I think about what I should do, now that I have the house all to myself.

I think about Suna's clothes under my bed. This is the perfect opportunity to wash them. I run to my room while my dinner rotates in the microwave.