❝ man, i'm just here to take pictures of you
so my club will stay alive. ❞
↳ aimoto iori never expected
her second year would su-
ck this bad. ever.
MIYA TWINS X OC ((NOT POLY...
☆ AKABOSHI TSURU GOT AN 82 ON HER MOST RECENT CALC EXAM ☆
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This morning was a slow one.
Iori had, unfortunately, woken up early, spending the first few minutes of her day laying in bed and staring at the ceiling.
The sun hadn't risen.
There was a sense of nervousness bubbling in the pit of her stomach, a sense of pure-hearted fear as she reached over and grabbed her phone. She had more than a few notifications, and yet, she sidestepped them and went into her camera roll.
Scrolling as far up as she could, she came across a video from three years back. It was recorded on a professional camera, the quality as clear as day. She pressed play.
"Losing this set could mean the end for Mitsubachi!" the commentator exclaimed, his voice tightened with anticipation. "#14, Inokuma, goes in for the serve...and hits it in beautifully!"
Faintly in the background, you could hear the strained cheering of the all-girls' academy, together with their brother-school, screaming for their "bumbling bees."
"Once again, #14, Inokuma, goes in for the set...and it goes straight to #7! Ah, but it's easily picked up..."
Time seemed to slow for Iori as she relived this moment, a moment that had quietly plagued her since it occurred.
"Uh oh, Mitsubachi looks thrown off! #1, Aimoto, goes in for the block! I don't think she'll be able to get it shut in!"
"Mi! Mi! Mi! Mitsu-Mitsubachi!"
"Oh, man! #5, Tsukawaki, comes up hurriedly next to Aimoto, and...her jump is off! They collide, but the ball is shut down!"
#1's feet touch the ground, and she instantly knows she's not going to be able to stick the landing. Her legs twist in ways they most definitely shouldn't, and she falls to the ground.
The hardwood is cold on her back, and she sees Nayoko drop to her knees next to her. The ref blows the whistle.
"Aimoto is down! Will Mitsubachi have to play without their powerhouse-server of a captain?"
"Hey, Iori! Are you okay?"
The coach rushes onto the court, kneeling next to Iori. She makes a symbol to the ref, and the man hurriedly nods, jumping down from his platform and rushing off into the halls.
"You're gonna be alright, Iori, don't you worry," her couch reassured, putting an arm around her shoulder and sitting her up. "You're gonna be alright."
