"I Hate Sports" ~ (A Tsukishima Kei X Reader) (COMPLETED)

Chapter Three

    The squeaking of your bike pedals blocked all other noise. Early morning air brushed across your face as you pedaled down the street. Karasuno High School was only a small ways away from the bookstore where you lived, so you liked to bike there.

    In a few minutes, you pulled up to the school. You were never at school this early. Aside from one teacher walking into the main building, there was no one there. It was unsettling.

    You checked your watch. It was almost 7:30, so their practice would have started already. You locked up your bike and jogged across the lawn.

    The reality of the situation didn't quite hit until you were standing in front of the door to the gym. You hadn't played sports since you were six, so you weren't sure how this was going to go. To be frank, sports people scared you, volleyball players most of all.

    They were all so tall and terrifying...

    You shook off the thought and opened the door to the gym before you could lose your nerve.

    The sound of sneakers squeaking on wood floors and volleyballs rapidly hitting the ground filled your ears. Trying not to draw attention to yourself, you quietly stepped into the huge room.

   A volleyball net was set up in the middle of the room. There were several boys lined up on one side. A blonde, tan man looking to be in his twenties was tossing volleyballs to them, and the boys were slamming them over the top of the net with impressive speed.

    "Asahi!" the man shouted, tossing a ball into the air.

    You didn't see who hit it, but the ball came at you in a flash of red, green, and white. It bashed across your face before you could react, and you fell back against the wall, bleeding violently from the nose. As you clutched your face, one thought and one thought only flashed across your mind.

    This was a mistake.

    This was a mistake.

    This was a mistake.

    The boy was the first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes. He had a brush of stubble running across his chin, and his long brown hair was tied up in a neat bun. He was built like a full grown adult, with a well sculpted figure covered in muscle. Ordinarily, he would have looked like a drug lord, but his dark brown eyes were so filled with panic that he just looked like an over-sized, anxious puppy.

    A silver haired boy stood next to him, also watching you. He was tall, though not as tall as the other boy. His eyes were large and innocent looking, and they had a hazel-brown hue that looked like the color of leaves in autumn. Both of them looked to be about eighteen.

    The silver-haired boy handed you what looked like a wet cloth. "Here. Use this for the blood. She's up!" he called, his voice echoing across the gym.

    You obediently wiped your face off with the cloth. You touched your nose gingerly; thankfully, it didn't seem to be broken.

    The man-bun boy looked down at you. "I am so, so sorry!" he said. "I didn't mean to—"

    You held up a hand to stop him. "How long was I out?"

    A serious-looking boy (you shouldn't be calling them boys, you realized; they were too tall for the word "boys" to apply to them) with short, spiky brown hair, said, "Only around thirty seconds."

    "Which is good, since we were about to call the nurse," the silver haired-boy cut in.

    "Are you okay?" The boy—sorry, teenage male—with the bun asked.