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"to be frank, aiming for an ivy league school in america is overwhelming. i understand you mentioned in your 'future careers' application you wanted to be a journalist or.. an author but wouldn't it be safer to stay in japan?" your eyes flicked towards your homeroom teacher as he nagged at your prospect. the combination of his unassuming face and lazy grip on your application pushed a heavy sigh out of you. to be exact, the teacher's room in nekoma high is as stuffy as you remembered. a year and a half ago today, you- misaki [name], stumbled into the same room asking for directions to your class.
"i'm aiming for brown university," you replied boldly.
"be realistic, misaki."
the man in front of you pursed his lips and mimicked the heavy sigh that escaped your chest earlier. your eyes darted left and right the second silence seeped into the atmosphere. since day 1, you can't recall a moment you weren't uncomfortable at any designated teacher-student meeting or counselling. dread is the best way to outline the feeling bubbling in your chest.
"you're precise, i know that- and calculating," he continued. however, his words lulled into the background as you stared off at the window allocated near the entrance to the teacher's room. one student passes. another. a group of five. your homeroom teacher was right, you were precise. you can't agree to that statement now though. if i was precise i wouldn't be here, the thought circled your head. clad in a white button-up and a black vest, with a blue jacket and an off-putting red tie- it's the disgruntling symbol of a nekoma high student.
when those students were passing, it was obvious their eyes darted at you and immediately misaki [name] became the new topic of their previously discarded conversation. why is misaki [name] back in nekoma high after transferring almost two years ago?
"you're an above-average student at best. excelling in academics could get you right into where you want to go but what happened two years ago stains your opportunity to slip out to an overseas university." your homeroom teacher babbled at you.
you bunched up your skirt with a firm grip and shook your head. "i didn't plagiarize ieri's work two years ago, sensei." quickly feigning calmness, an awkward grin tugged at your lips as you tried to wave the issue off but the hard expression on your face took it away.
"it didn't matter if you didn't or not. what matters is that you're doing this rather than spending your lunchbreak doing other things-"
"it did matter if someone took the time to investigate instead of worrying over some insignificant volleyball practice that took place that day." the words spilt out like a dam breaking. Before your homeroom teacher could take offense, someone else in the room with prying ears seized the moment.
"Insignificant volleyball practice !?" the exaggerated words flew out of a young boy's mouth which reeled your head towards the screeching. you weren't surprised at all seeing the source of the sound coming from a tall, grey-haired boy in a volleyball uniform. "who's this?" you practically sighed out.
"lev haibi! first year, middle blocker-"
"don't pry into my conversation." his jittery introduction fell short quickly after he was cut off. the half-russian's face fell immediately and a pout-like expression quickly formed afterwards. "there's not much to say though." with a quick farewell, you brushed past the tall boy and out of the room.
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"i'm not ready for class," you mused under your breath. being nervous is clearly not an understatement, seeing as you found respite in a random supply closet near the auditorium. the word already spread about your return since 7:30 in the morning because of the role call you missed. you didn't make a dramatic return, nor did you make a quiet one. there are already people brown-nosing in your presence to figure out why you left school in the middle of your first year and why you came back suddenly after no contact with anyone whatsoever.
your blue jacket draped on your lap as you sat crossed-leg on the dirty concrete floor. the last time someone cleaned this supply closet was probably ages ago but you can't complain since you spent the first half of your lunch hour avoiding students and the other arguing with your homeroom teacher. missing the first hour of class didn't seem like a problem to you anyways. most students skip their first day anyway and it's easier knowing you can occupy the last available seat instead of moving around under other people's requests or pleas.
yet, your moment of respite was cut short the moment you heard the door knob jiggling and an unfamiliar voice grunting from the outside. you figured maybe in a few minutes they'd give up and find another unlocked supply closet but the alarms in your system quickly blared. you jumped up immediately, grabbing the jacket on your lap and quickly slipping it on. as you picked up your book bag, the lock clicked and while being startled, your back hit the shelf you rested again too harshly, prompting you to let out a grunt.
"wait- watch out!" someone exclaimed. your eyes darted up to see the bottles of untouched glass cleaner tumbling down, aiming for your head and a yelp came out of your throat. your slow reaction was no better and in contrast to your slower instincts, the stranger quickly moved towards you and leaned over you- using their gym bag to divert the directions of the falling bottles.
the chaos died down afterwards and you sighed in relief, patting your chest to cool your nerves down. "thank you-" you glanced up to your supposed hero and afterwards, you immediately mirrored the shock on his face before you both voiced it on par.
"kuroo?"
"misaki?"
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