Perfectionist ✺ Sakusa Kiyoomi

6

"A sore loser, yeah. Of course I am! Why aren't you?" Chiharu complained, waving his hands almost deliriously. The rest of the team was silent as they clicked open their lockers solemnly.

"I wasn't the one who messed us up; I messed up one time at the end! Until then, I'd always done what I was supposed to!" Chiharu was arguing with himself at this point. He was eager to defend himself despite no one having blamed anything on him. They were, in fact, quite concerned, but the Libero wouldn't realize this until later. "It's not my fault we lost, it's on all of you not pulling your weight on the team!" But Chiharu... Chiharu was screaming. Inside and out. His chest hurt and he couldn't seem to inhale enough air to fix that.

As if in perfect sync, ten pairs of eyes shot up to meet Chiharu's. He looked around to see the faces of his team mates: faces of anguish, shock, and those that returned his anger. To his immediate left, Kiryu was rendered motionless, gaping in disbelief at his childhood friend. All of his teammates stood without a peep for a long moment. Each of them were familiar with their Haru-san's constructive criticism, but never had they heard him say anything as accusing as this.

"Hey, all of us put in our best effort!" Nozomu declared loudly, effectively breaking the silence with a slam of his locker to emphasize his words. "I can't say I play better than you do, but I did my best at my job on the court. I stopped as many spikes as I could!"

"You're not the only one who had desire to win. We wanted it just as much as you did." Unnan added.

Before Chiharu could respond, Usuri cut in, "Haru-san, Unnan's right. Afterall, you're not better than Wakatsu-san, and he's not blaming anyone for the loss."

Chiharu scoffed. In his foggy mind, he distantly recalled his own words to Kiryu, "You're not self-important enough, so I have to be that for both of us."

"But he should be. He should be blaming all of you." He said blatantly, "All of you relied on me to save your asses, and you all counted on him to score. Especially you, Usuri, you don't get to praise him now, as if you didn't groan earlier at how he didn't score off of one of your shitty sets on the court." He pointed an accusing finger at the setter, hands shaking in fury.

He continued, mouth moving seemingly on its own. "You all nag at me to stop 'overworking' myself, but I do it because none of you would ever care to put in as much effort as I have throughout the years. Instead, you wait around for Wakatsu and I to do something amazing and save your asses. So, please shut the hell up—"

A punch to the face cut his sentence short. It was something so strange, neither Chiharu nor the rest of the team even comprehend it for the first few moments. Yet, Chiharu pieced it together as the sharp, throbbing ache reached his cheek and he stumbled back clumsily.

Wakatsu Kiryu, the mild-mannered captain, had socked him in the eye.

Staggering to stay on his feet, he held the left side of his face that was quickly swelling red and tough. He looked up at Kiryu's towering figure, their difference in height intimidating him now more than it ever did before.

"I've heard enough." The captain stated evenly. Kiryu then proceeded to say three things, as if he were reading from a list: "Don't talk about the team like that. Don't speak for me as if you know what I feel. And don't blame your own idiocy on the team."

That covered just about all of it.

But Kiryu, in the most strange and out-of-character way, continued speaking past what was called-for. "I know you're hurting. But we all are. You need to understand that. Just because some players aren't as skilled as you doesn't mean they don't feel crushed by loss the same way you do."