A/N: My dormant english skills has been put to the test by this chapter HAHAHHAHA. Enjoooooy.
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"And... it's not something we haven't done before, is it?"
ASHDHSJDHSDGWWSGDHFGKHDFGHJ
HE... DID HE JUST-
Your lips formed a thin line as you stood there, stunned.
It takes you a couple of minutes before you could recover. And when you did, the first thing you do was avoid his eyes. It felt like his gaze was holding you by the neck and you can't have that. "...It is something we have done before." You find yourself saying in a low voice and you are only able to repeat his words.
But that was everything you could only say. Nothing was registering in your head for you to come up with a decent reply. But he looks like he knows that, as he suddenly holds your hand and leads the way.
It felt like the adrenaline rushed from his hand on your hand to your chest, and you are holding your breath. You didn't need to see his face to know he was wearing that usual serious expression and here you were, internally panicking. But you stopped short as you noticed it from the grip on your hand.
Ohhh.
His hands were a little shaky... despite that stoic look on his face.
You couldn't help but sigh and smile as you shake your head. And here you thought he was so mature that the whole thing was something he could easily brush off.
But it wasn't.
You watch as Ushijima Wakatoshi's back drew a path from the lantern-lit road to the hillside. Every path he creates seemed like a maze. There was not a trace on the ground that indicated that this was something people usually thread on.
And he really did picked out something hidden, like a secret spot. It was up in a hill, where you could see the entire festival and the place even had a stool.
You stood still as you looked at the view. It felt amazing to look at the festival from afar. The place looked so foreign and out of reach even if you've just been there a couple of minutes ago. When you turned your back to look at him, Ushijima Wakatoshi was also taking in the scenery, a hint of nostalgia in his gaze.
"Have you been here before?" You couldn't help but ask and he nods.
"Only in daytime." He answers as he lays your bag of prizes on the ground. "I saw this place when my volleyball flew here once." He explains.
"Ohh..." That seems fair considering the force he usually uses to spike. But if it flew all the way up here...
"If it landed to this distance then you must have been playing over there." You guessed and his brows furrowed.
"So I was right!" You confirmed and he nods. "But it must not have been that strong of a spike then." You analyzed it. "If it only landed here." You say aloud and the athlete's gaze suddenly bore into yours.
Ahh. You can tell what he immediately wanted to ask.
"Where does it have to reach then?" He asked. "To be that strong?" His brows furrow even more and you couldn't help but laugh.
Look at him, immediately going back to being the same volleyball idiot the moment you bring up the topic.
"Probably there." You say and he looks like he's making a mental note with how intently he was staring.
And just like that, you could picture a new goal being unlocked in that simple head of his.
For someone that other people finds hard to read, you have never failed to read this man. But perhaps that was because his motivations had always been clear from the very first day you met him.
The flames of his passion for volleyball— for this sport has burned very brightly when you first laid eyes on him and it has never died down. His passion is blinding, blazing silently. And you were like a fly drawn to such a burning flame.
You imagine Ushijima Wakatoshi as an eagle that carried his passion on his wings as he flew.
The flames on his wings will never cease no matter how high up he goes. Even if he is dragged down, stopped, or challenged, the passion he carries on his wings will never die down. It will always be there, staring at you as it continues to burn.
And perhaps it was something you realized you envied from him.
If only you had been like that.
"You sure like volleyball a lot, Goliath." You say in a tone laced with something the man could not understand.
He looks like he meant to say something more but he stopped.
You look at the olive eyes of this man, of this athlete— of how they were never wavering, silent yet firm. It was like a mirror of his passion. This was a man who knew what he wanted to do with his life from the very beginning.
This eagle was chasing a throne in the sky.
...Bathing in passion, driven to such an extent, burning with the will to better himself for a sport he loved from the very start to the end.
Yes, if only you had been like that.
You could easily boast about being skilled in multiple sports. After all, you were a young star whose place had already been engraved in the skies. You have seated on a multitude of podiums, drowning in gold and cheers.
You were a star who have sat on numerous thrones.
But the multiple thrones you've already sat on up in the skies is proof...
Proof that you have no passion for one thing, and perhaps, none for anything at all.
You looked up at the night sky as you remind yourself.
That you were a star that didn't burn... that didn't shine... There were no flames of passion to either fan or carry on your back.
Because from the very start... you did not carry one.
A picture of a girl with dead eyes as she's adorned in medals paints itself in your line of vision as if it was casting a reminder.
"Claire."
Ushijima Wakatoshi's voice brings clarity to your ears and you gasped as you opened your eyes.
His forehead was already touching yours and you snap back to reality.
"What are you thinking of?" The athlete asks in a whisper, with a tone laced with worry.
It was the first time your thoughts had been so preoccupied that you didn't realized the proximity between you and him. But you didn't mind this. And you remind yourself of his hanging question.
What were you thinking of?
"...Things." you say.
It takes him a minute to internalize your very vague reply but he presses you for details. "About?"
You only look at him as his olive eyes searched yours in an attempt to find an answer.
"...Me." you answer as you gave out a sigh.
"Hmm." He hums but didn't say anything more. He just remained there, with his forehead still touching yours.
He looks like he was relishing this silence.
"I like this..." You confess and he perks up. "...this forehead to forehead thing." You giggle before closing your eyes.
"Hmm." He hums again in agreement.
"But how did you get here?" You couldn't help but ask. "You weren't responding." he says. But that doesn't really explain why he chose to do this... unless someone had told him about it. You ransacked your head for possible clues but was interrupted when you heard him.
"I was worried."
Then a ray of light flashed towards the sky, that single small ray of light blooming, enveloping everything in that empty sky.
It was starting. The fireworks were starting.
The two of you stopped to look at the sky, as that one single ray drew a path into the night and suddenly, the entire sky is about to bloom in multiple colors.
Ushijima Wakatoshi suddenly looks at you.
"Do you want to make a wish?" He asks and you looked at him.
A burst of heat erupts in your cheeks, realizing the implication of his words. But you slowly nod.
He leans in and you find yourself holding your breath. It felt like the fireworks erupted, from the skies to your very being.
Suddenly, you can't hear anything.
You can't see anything.
But you feel him.
You feel the way his hand caresses your face, his big hands a little fidgety. You wanted to tease him— to say that you had never seen him looked so nervous in match before but here he was.
But who were you to say such a thing? When you were acting the exact same way.
You feel the way he brushes the stray strands of your hair and puts it behind your ear, every touch of his fingers felt like they were caressing every strand of your hair.
You feel the way his voice whispers something in your ear, only for you to not hear a single thing. Every sound was drowned out by the blooming skies. But for some reason, you know the words that left his lips was your name.
And when you were finally able to look at him. You see him, see the way his olive eyes look into your turquoise ones.
And you drown in them as you feel his lips pressed into yours.
The first touch of his lips felt like that ray of light in the sky.
It bloomed, leaving traces that tingled in your mouth. You thought of it as something that could end in a moment. But for some reason, it didn't.
His lips brushed against yours once again, unhurried, slow, allowing you to breathe. It wasn't like anything you've ever done before at all. Something bloomed wherever his lips touched.
Yet it felt right. It felt very right.
"You're all red." There was a strange gentleness in his tone and you only stared, looked at that oddly pleased look on his face then glared at him.
"Of course I am." You pout. "It's... Embarrassing."
"But we've done more things before." He repeats and whispers as his lips glide from your cheek to your ear.
You shiver at his touch. "That's... different. Before, that was a challenge. This time it's, uhh... it's." You feel him stare at your face, its intent leaving you unable to even utter anything that makes sense. "...What?"
"You look beautiful." he interrupts you.
You inhale a sharp breath. This is... This is for a wish. A wish. You repeat in your head over and over again like a mantra.
Ahhh. Wait.
You realize something as it only occurred to you now.
"I... wasn't able to make my wish yet!" You complain aloud. The athlete blinks as he looks at you. But you realized what that meant when the side corner of his lips slightly tilts up.
His lips made your lips bloomed again, this time, in a hurry.
"O-okay, I've already made my wish." You told him in between kisses and he pauses, gives you a look, that same look you couldn't read.
You hear him as a small smile paints itself on his face.
"But I haven't made mine."