Metanoia [Ushijima x reader]

Chapter 2 : Sorry, I think

A/N: Sorry the title sucks nevertheless I hope you enjoy the story. This is still the first meeting but on Ushijima's side

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His footsteps resounded as he walked through the practically empty school. The sun was barely up in the sky shining over the heads of the only people who were there - the teachers who needed to get ready for today's opening ceremony. It was the first day of class after all.

He stood in front of one of the gymnasiums of the school. He glanced at his wristwatch and unlocked the doors, thankful that one of the gym teachers chose to arrive as early as him. He still had around 2 hours before class begins, enough time for him to practice. He opened the gym doors and took a deep breath in as he felt a surge of satisfaction overwhelm him.

He placed down his bag and sports drink and got the area ready for his individual practice; placing the poles in position, tying the net, as well as placing the cart filled with volleyballs in one area. He glanced at the clock that hanged on the wall and did some light stretching before going out on the field for a jog, forgetting to close the door behind him.

After a half-hour jog, he returned to the gym, changing his shoes to indoor volleyball shoes before entering. He paused, feeling as if something was not right inside the gym. It seems as if everything was as before he left for a jog, but he can't shake that weird feeling. Nevertheless, he shrugged it off and did some more light stretching before making his way towards the ball cart. Taking one ball he positioned himself in the service zone.

"Did I leave that open?" he wondered as he looked at the open doors of the storage room. Once again, he shrugged it off and focused back on the ball in his hands. He inhaled sharply, the ball lightly touching his forehead as he slightly raised it. He closed his eyes and started to visualize the previous match his team had. The match was close but in the end they still won.

But winning wasn't enough for him though, at one point in the match their team was pushed into a corner and this drove him to do jump serves. True, his serves proved to be helpful but he still made mistakes as he couldn't control the ball as good as his upperclassmen could. This irritated him so much but he didn't let it show.

He started to grip the ball tightly as he recalled his mistakes, letting his frustration build up inside him. His serves would at times go to the libero and sometimes he served it too strong making the ball go out of bounds. "Too many errors..." he whispered to himself. Those were good opportunities for him to score but he just screwed up.

He breathed out and looked at the area before him, visualizing the area to that of the previous match. He saw the positions the opposing team had as well as his own. He kept shifting his gaze trying to find the perfect place to hit a service ace. 'There...' he thought as he eyed the far left end corner. He recalled that there was one person there but he was too far in to be able to receive it.

He threw the ball high in the air and then executing a jump serve, better than the one in the previous game, the ball landing on the area he wanted it to. But his focus was suddenly broken; the match he visualized disappeared almost instantly as he saw you standing there, the ball barely missing your face.

In this kind of situation, normally he would ask you what you were doing there, ask you if you were okay or apologize for not noticing your presence sooner and say it bluntly as he normally would. But he remained silent, the words he would usually say being lost in his thoughts as he stood there, unable to remove his sights on you. Which is natural for a person experiencing shock in almost killing another, with a ball nonetheless.

He was usually stoic and impassive, inside and out, but he felt something within him stir. He felt this sudden rush of electricity build within and a somewhat familiar feeling started to overwhelm him. This feeling... It was like the first time he stood on court and won his first match. It was the same feeling he had being able to fight a strong opponent. The feeling he had whenever he got on the court. This sudden surge of emotions welling up inside him was leaving him awestricken as he stared at you. But he has doubts, as he tried to chalk this one up to shock, but he wondered why he can't believe in it being just that.