WildFire

17

The ball whizzed by your head, bouncing once on the ground before rolling away again.

You gritted your teeth, angry and distressed at how incompetent you were. 

Six times Aoki Etsuko spiked the ball-all of the times, you could not receive it. It was scary, the way she stared at the volleyball-terrifying to know that that power was coming straight for your face.

Ever since you started liking volleyball, you had never been afraid of receiving.

 It came naturally to you-you wanted to receive all the spikes someone might send towards you. You wanted to feel that moment of stillness as you reached forward to feel the ball contact your forearms. 

That was the moment your head felt the clearest-your thoughts the sharpest.

But apparently, Etsuko wasn't going to let that happen.

Many girls had tried to try out for the girl's volleyball team-even second-years had tried to join in desperation-but the team captain-a terrifying girl named Sumiko-had eliminated half of them within the first twenty minutes. She muttered something about "pesky fangirls" interfering with her club.

Now, there were only four of them left.

You had never been great at two vs two, since you couldn't exactly slack off on the responsibilities of setting and spiking when there were only two of you.

 Also, you were pretty sure the other team was overpowered.

Etsuko was a tall girl with a confident aura, and her spikes were terrifying. You had seen Hinata's, which you thought were very decent. But Etsuko's--well, she was pure power. Spike after spike, all of them radiating 'I am better than you-mwahahaha'.

"It's okay [Nakamura]-san," your teammate-Chikamoto Ryouka-called, but you could hear the doubt in her voice when she added, "You'll get it next time."

Right, and the sky is made of purple unicorns that puke rainbows, you thought bitterly, turning away from Ryouka to stare at the scoreboard.

3-8.

You sighed defeatedly at the unfriendly number, rubbing your temples to try to calm yourself. A part of you wanted to give up-to leave and try again another day.

A familiar voice stopped you though, laced with so much sass and tease you could practically see his face. Kunimi's familiar smirk popped into your head, not one bit faded from the three years you hadn't seen him. 

He cocked his head at you and said, "Have you given up yet?"

"Shut up," you murmured, making Ryouka turn towards you with confusion.

"What?" she said, her eyes puzzled as if asking if you lost your mind.

But your mind was on the volleyball in Etsuko's hands. She jumped up, and smirked as the ball went flying to your side of the court, sailing straight towards you.

"Got it!" you called, as your arms flew out to receive the ball. It was instinct to see a ball and try to receive. 

When playing, you always felt nervous about screwing up until the ball actually came to you. It was a moment of clarity, but that moment was all you needed for you to know what to do, and bump the ball gracefully up-the sting on your forearms like a small sign of victory.

So why couldn't you receive Etsuko's?

No, no. You were sure you could do it. You were just...afraid. It was so clearly powerful, such a straight, clear shot, you just didn't even try to receive it.