They ended up stretching outside the gym, getting ready for their next match.
Mamoru sat in the corner, his back against the wall. He was beginning to feel restless. His leg was tapping to an unheard beat and his fingers tapped against the floor like there were ivory and ebony colored keys beneath him.
"Karasuno really is amazing."
"That #10 really freaked me out."
Hinata stood up quickly, a dopey look on his face. Mamoru's face softened at the content look Hinata displayed. Knowing he was belittled in middle school, Mamoru knew the boy was basking in the attention.
Kageyama gave Hinata a shrewd stare.
"Wh-what? I'm allowed to be happy!" Hinata protested indignantly. "No one's ever said that kind of stuff about me."
"Did I say anything?" Kageyama gave him a very disturbing, sly smile. "It's great you're getting noticed. The more our opponents notice you and get defensive around you, the more you can tap into your potential."
The rest was lost on Mamoru, who drifted in and out of focus. A pair of legs stood in front of him and he lifted his head to see Ennoshita. "Want some help stretching? Not that you need it, but I just thought-"
"I wouldn't mind," Mamoru interrupted him as politely as he could. Ennoshita was rambling indicating he was nervous, though he couldn't understand why he was nervous.
So Ennoshita stepped behind him (Mamoru scooted forward to give him room) and Mamoru stretched out his legs at a 90 degree angle.
The initial touch startled him even though he knew it was only Ennoshita. But contrary to his father's hands, Ennoshita's were gentle and languid. He pushed on his back slowly, forcing Mamoru to lower his front to the floor.
Coach Ukai's voice brought him out of his reverie. They stood up from the floor to stand in a half circle around their coach. "We'll be using the same starting lineup for Round 2 as we did for Round 1.
There were multiple emotions that flitted through himself.
One was disappointment. There was a rush of dismay that he wasn't chosen as a starting player. Was he not strong enough? Should he have been faster? What was he doing wrong?
Funny enough, most of the disappointment was directed on Sugawara's behalf. As Karasuno's official setter and a third-year, he must have felt something akin to sorrow, though he had been prepared for such a decision.
The second emotion was jealousy. Mamoru wanted to run. He wanted to jump, to spike, to score a point. His limbs itched to do something.
The third emotion was relief. Mamoru wasn't sure he could play right if he knew Akashi was scrutinizing his every move.
If numbness was an emotion, it would have been the fourth. There was an odd sense of acceptance, though he was a little disappointed. Mamoru couldn't bring himself to actually care about Ukai's decision.
Mamoru frowned. Perhaps he wasn't doing well enough to care. He would have to work harder.
"The next match is at 1:30pm," Daichi informed them, looking at the paper in his hand. "Don't let yourselves cool down."
"Have a light meal before that time," Ukai added. "Don't fill up."
"Yes, sir!"
They split up to have a small meal and to keep their muscles warm. Mamoru deviated from the group, finding himself in an empty hall. There was a vending machine up ahead, so he made his way there.
"Date Tech's really- There's Moru-chan!"
Uh oh. Mamoru grimaced, but tried not to appear rude in front of the older students.
"You look lost, Moru-chan," Oikawa teased, leaning down to be eye-level with him.
Iwaizumi slapped the back of his head. "Oi, stop harassing him."
"I'm not harassing him!"
"He's not harassing me."
Mamoru didn't hold back on the sour look when Oikawa embraced Mamoru in a side hug. Iwaizumi only sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyed that his friend was so touchy with him.
"Are you lost?" Iwaizumi asked curiously, sounding a lot less patronizing than his captain.
"No," Mamoru stated plainly. "I was going to the vending machine."
"We were going too," Oikawa exclaimed delightedly. "Let's go~"
Iwaizumi pulled Mamoru out of Oikawa's suffocating grip, cradling him by his side protectively. "If you hold him any tighter, he's going to pop."
Mamoru didn't say anything, but he was glad Iwaizumi was there. He personally didn't have anything against Oikawa, but the male was a little too much like Kise.
"Your next match is against Date Tech," Oikawa noted solemnly, almost a 180 switch from his personality.
This was his true personality, someone who analyzed and took apart the pieces that made something together.
"Yes," Mamoru confirmed, though he was aware they already knew. Oikawa, who made a challenge against Karasuno at the practice match, would keep tabs on something like this.
They reached the vending machine where Oikawa went first, purchasing a bottle of water. Iwaizumi let Mamoru go next, so he got a protein bar and a bottle of water.
But before he could reach into his pocket for money, Iwaizumi beat him to it. Before he could even say anything, Iwaizumi gave him an apologetic look while feeding yen into the machine. "Consider it an apology for letting Oikawa strangle you."
"I wasn't strangling him!"
Mamoru dipped his head politely, thanking Iwaizumi for the paid snacks. He felt uncomfortable letting someone else pay, but it would be even more awkward to try and force money on Iwaizumi. Something told him he would not accept it.
"I should get back now," Mamoru said softly, tracing a finger around the bottle cap. "Thank you for the company."
He bowed before retreating to the outside. Mamoru felt a little guilty he ditched them, but he wanted to be alone.
All the people he'd met and been by made him...uncomfortable. He had a people meter and he was quickly reaching his capacity before the week was over.
Mamoru settled under a tree, spotting Hinata and Kageyama bumping the volleyball to each other. He shook his head, believing they could actually have volleyball for brains.
He felt tired, but too keyed up to actually sleep. Mamoru ripped open the protein bar, robotically feeding himself.
Maybe it did taste good, but all he could think about was cardboard with dusty chocolate chips. Every mouthful was difficult to swallow, but he forced himself to eat the whole thing.
──── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────
"All right! Let's win Round 2 as well!"
Hinata was drowned out by the other school's cheer. "Go, go, let's go! Let's go, Date Tech!"
So loud.
Mamoru sighed, his head dipping with tiredness. Sugawara noted his exhaustion in concern, but he didn't say anything.
He hardly paid any attention to the game. He knew should, as a teammate and as someone who usually analyzed other peoples' moves.
But he couldn't lift his head.
He was so tired.
"Mamoru."
His head lifted, glancing towards the coach. "We're subbing you in."
What?
Bewildered, he accepted Hinata's slap on the back without a flinch, still dazed. He took Hinata's spot in the front left, blinking away his grogginess. He slapped his cheeks hard to wake himself up.
The whistle blew and the game resumed.
Back and forth, back and forth, the ball went. Mamoru's eyes followed it, fingers twitching with pent up energy.
Date Tech's #1 made a jump serve, the ball clipping the top of the net. Lucky for them, Nishinoya slid forward, easily sending the ball up into the air.
A quick would be impossible.
Or so they would think.
"Mamoru-san, let's practice our quick attacks."
"I'm afraid you're confusing me with Hinata, Kageyama-kun. He's on point with your tosses."
"No, you're just as good, if not better."
Kageyama did a backwards set from the back row, sending it straight to Mamoru's hands.
There was something exhilarating about attacking. At his height, he could see right past the net, noting there were no blockers.
Time seemed sluggish, almost stopping as his gaze slipped to the crowd. He identified the noticeable crimson gaze, the gaze that held boredom and disregard.
Mamoru spiked the ball with a little more effort than usual, landing on the balls of his feet.
I am not weak.
"All right," Kageyama howled, clenching his hand.
"Nice, Kageyama, Mamoru!" Daichi exclaimed encouragingly. He patted both of them on the back, smiling.
Date Tech called for a timeout.
Mamoru took the time to hydrate and check the scoreboard.
First set, 8 to 6 in Karasuno's favor. It wasn't a bad start, though it was still early. Things could still happen.
Kageyama tossed to Mamoru again and he spiked right past Aone, (he found out his name after someone shouted it), the white haired boy.
"Good job, Mamoru!" Sugawara shouted from the bench. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Way to go! Give us one more!"
He never had people cheer him on other than Maiko. Satsuki meant well and had faith in his abilities, but there was something pleasant about being encouraged. Even if Mamoru knew he could do it, having other people shout encouragement felt....nice.
The next attack Mamoru did included a time-lag. Aone and one other blocker leapt into the air, arms outstretched like iron walls.
But Mamoru didn't jump until they started to fall. They planned an ordinary quick, nothing like the special ones that Hinata and he could do. If he had anything to learn from Murasakibara, the bigger they were, the faster they fell.
By the time they reached the floor, the ball had already hit the floor close to the backline.
His heart was racing. Mamoru placed a hand over his chest like he could calm it, but he was excited. His hands were trembling, his legs aching to run.
Mamoru was reminded why he took an interest in volleyball now. Basketball and volleyball were two different sports, but when played right, there was a certain rush of adrenaline that left you wanting more.
When his turn to attack came again, they'd rotated until he was in the front row, middle. Kageyama tossed, Mamoru jumped, leading Aone and #7 to block him.
But to their surprise, Mamoru ducked down, forcing himself to the ground faster and darted to the left. By the time the ball left Kageyama's hands, Mamoru was already in position, hand set back and ready to spike.
Mamoru didn't anticipate someone like Aone to be so fast. Aone's hand was right in front of him, but his arm was already in motion.
The ball hit Aone's hand and his chest clenched with panic. Mamoru gritted his teeth, silently screaming with irritation. How could he leave out a variable like this?
He blamed it on the burst of emotions he had. Mamoru felt a brief searing pain in his ankle and he crumpled to the ground without a noise, landing on his tailbone with a jolt.
Shock.
His ankle was throbbing, almost numb with pain. Mamoru let out a pained groan, hand snaking to his ankle.
It was red, already swelling with a future promise of black and blue, and he couldn't move his foot very well. A minor sprained ankle.
Defective.
Mamoru almost laughed hysterically. He was defective.
"Mamoru!" Daichi crouched by him, eyes flicking to the ankle he held in his hand. "Coach!"
Before he knew it, Takeda had gently looped his arm around Mamoru, slowly lifting him up. He ignored the concerned stares of Karasuno, face burning with embarrassment.
When they'd left the gym behind and entered a quieter section of the hallway, Mamoru murmured, "I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" Takeda asked, baffled. He was shorter than Mamoru, so Mamoru lifted a little so he was bearing more of his own weight.
"I wasn't paying attention." Mamoru's face burned with embarrassment and shame.
"It was an intense game and you were attacking more than usual," Takeda admitted quietly, looking lost in thought. "Still, I don't think it's something you need to apologize for."
Mamoru didn't say anymore, but he wasn't reassured.
"Sprained ankle?"
"Yes," Takeda informed the nurse, who pointed to the cot in the back. She hardly looked surprised, probably used to the injuries athletes gained over the period she worked.
Takeda sat Mamoru down on the cot, standing by patiently. The nurse pulled out an elastic bandage, rolling the swivel chair over to him. Carefully, she took off his shoe and sock, smiling apologetically at his wince.
Mamoru watched her examine his ankle, noting the black and blue colors were already starting to form. "How did it happen?"
Awkwardly, Mamoru told her how he fell, remembering the botched landing with a grimace. She nodded knowingly. "Ah, I see. Well, lucky for you, it's only a minor sprain. With rest and ice, you should be good in about 2 weeks, maybe less."
2 weeks. Mamoru's heart dropped at the prospect of having to limp around for 2 weeks. No running.
"Yes, ma'am," was all he murmured. He didn't say anything as she wrapped his foot tightly, grabbing a bag of ice from the little freezer in the corner.
"Keep this on your foot," she advised.
"Do I need a crutch?" Mamoru asked quietly, silently dreading the answer.
"I would recommend it," she mused. "But if you really don't want one, then I suppose you don't need it as long as you keep weight off your foot."
Mamoru closed his eyes, weighing his options. Having a crutch would make things go faster and help the healing process, but having something like that aid him, he felt...vulnerable.
"I'll take the crutch."
"Good choice." The nurse nodded, looking satisfied. When she came back, she held out a single crutch. "Lucky for you, you'll need it for about three days before you start weight bearing. Even then, be careful. Would you like to call your guardian?"
"No." Mamoru shook his head. "I'd like to stay, if I can."
"I don't see why not," Takeda inputted. "The game should be over soon."
The nurse nodded, allowing Takeda to help Mamoru off the bed after he painfully slid on his shoes and socks, intentionally making the ties looser.
Walking with a crutch was a little odd. It was unnatural to lean on something that didn't feel anything on the ground, but like everything else, Mamoru adapted quickly. He chose the best rhythm to walk the fastest, easily keeping up with Takeda.
When he came back, the crowd was roaring with excitement, eyes gazing upon the two teams. Both teams were dripping in sweat, but they looked determined nonetheless.
He rejoined the players on the bench quietly, gingerly setting his foot down.
"Are you alright?" Yamaguchi asked timidly, leaning towards him. "It looked like it hurt."
"It's only a sprained ankle. Thank you for your concern," Mamoru murmured. He sat on the bench without another word, trying not to focus on the throbbing of his ankle. He didn't want to take pain medication, but was regretting his decision a little.
Watching the players play with their best effort made him envious. Mamoru grimaced at his injury, disappointed he would have to put a hold on that. He wanted to run, to move so bad, but he couldn't now.
His eyes closed, thoughts bitter.
How unfortunate.