Ukai knew something was up.
His eyes lingered, ladened with suspicion, on my every motion as I climbed into the car. My skin was obviously flushed, I could feel it, and it was confirmed after a short glance into the mirror of the door. I didn't say anything, and I tried to avoid looking him head on, afraid it would be written on my forehead.
"(Name). Are you okay? What was wrong with Tsukishima?" He muttered, examining my face before turning out of the car park.
"Oh, nothing. Just being Tsukishima." I chuckled, knowing full well just how unbelievable my tone was, but somehow not able to fix it.
"Right. And you? You look like you have a fever, kiddo." His voice had turned humorous, and I knew he was coming to some ridiculous conclusion.
"I'm fine." My voice had lilted unexpectedly, and there was a pause before his reaction.
And then we were both snickering. The lie was obviously false, especially paired with the flippant hand gestures I kept tossing around unexpectedly.
"Right. Whatever, I'll learn sooner or later." He smirked, as if he was already considering the big secret.
Suddenly, my phone lit up and buzzed in my lap, Tsukishima's contact shining brightly.
Has Ukai asked why you're stumbling around like a blushing fawn yet?
I rolled my eyes, quickly turning the screen away from Ukai's field of vision and typing out a quick reply.
Oh, yeah. I just told him something had made me want to vomit.
I locked the phone, tossing it on top of the clothes in my open gym bag. Ukai glanced fleetingly towards me, attempting to watch the road and snoop at the same time. Before I could think of anything else, it buzzed again.
Right, that explains it. You had the most disgusting look on your face...
I scoffed lightly, thumbs darting across the keyboard and sending the message in a matter of seconds.
You didn't seem to have a problem with it a moment ago.
I felt his indecision on what to reply, his silence a tell tale sign of his dilemma.
Touché.
"I wasn't aware Tsukishima could provide such an amusing conversation." Ukai spoke knowingly, smirking at how my girlish grin transformed into a sheepish expression.
"Uh, well, he's, um, y'know..." I tried clearing my throat, mostly trying to dislodge whatever was blocking my ability to produce a coherent sentence, with little success.
"Hey, no need to explain. Just know, there isn't much we can do with a heartbroken player. Play nice." He warned halfheartedly.
I knew he was only joking, for if he knew just how on base he was, he would probably be a little less amiable.
"Haha. Maybe you should watch where you're going." I chuckled, hoping I sounded casual enough as I gestured to his missed turn.
When we finally got home, Saeko was eating takeout and yelling angrily at some unfamiliar action movie on the couch. I had laughed, but, when I looked up at Ukai, his eyes were filled with nothing but affection.
Ew.
I managed to squeeze out of the room before they could begin any uncomfortably sweet couple-y things, climbing the stairs quickly.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I closed the door to my room before checking the text.
You have some general explanations to give.
I sighed, not really up for the challenge of explaining my thought process right then.
Really? I thought I was pretty informative.
I knew he wouldn't take that answer, but I hoped.
Why didn't you just play on the girls' team? Why the cross dressing?
Well, the girls' team isn't exactly a powerhouse team. And I wanted to play with someone specifically.
I have an idea who. Let me be the first to say sorry for the letdown.
Shōyō's actually been a good learning experience.
Right. You know what else is a good learning experience? Shoving your hand in a meat grinder. Since when are you and the idiot on a first name basis?
Are you jealous? Cute.
You know, I'm not above serving right into the back of your head tomorrow.
I sat the phone down, the bubbly feeling in my chest returning with a vengeance. Even when he was teasing me, I felt like Tsukishima was trying to communicate at least a little emotion.
You wouldn't. You want to win as badly as anyone else.
I sent an overly smiley emoticon alongside the message, forsaking the phone on my desk to go shower.
Ukai's house was relatively old. It had been a gift from his mother, left to him after her untimely demise a few months ago. When I'd come, they had only been living there for a few weeks.
Therefore, it wouldn't be extremely farfetched to think it was haunted. If ghosts were real, the creepy upstairs hallway would be spirit central. I left my door wide open, letting the light flood out into the hallway so I could see straight to the bathroom. I ran through the shadows, quickly flicking on the light before I could stand in the dark for long.
I knew neither Ukai or Saeko would let me live it down if they saw it, but I couldn't will away the unease in the creaky house. Hey, who would?
I showered quickly, hoping to return in time to reply to Tsukishima without an extensive pause. I dressed, and ran down the hall as soon as the bathroom light was off. As I passed the staircase, I knew something was about to happen.
"Boo!" Ukai had barely raised his voice, simply stepping out into my path and distorting his face goofily.
My reaction, however, seemed as if he had charged at me, cackling madly and wielding a chainsaw, while demanding the immediate relinquishment of my blood. I shrieked, knuckles buried in his ribs before he could flinch.
I realized it wasn't a rabid cannibal, not even a ghost, but my idiot uncle who now stood hunched over in front of me.
"Ukai! What is your damage?!" I demanded, placing a hand on my heart to make sure it hadn't completely stopped from shock.
He didn't answer, and he continued to look at the ground as he clutched his ribcage. It was only when his diminished breath returned that I realized his shaking shoulders weren't a sign of pain, but the result of laughing heavily.
"Oh, (Name)." He gasped, wiping his eyes of tears from both pain and mirth. "That was too easy." He continued laughing even after I punched his shoulder as a result of doing so.
"You are the most horrible person alive." I growled, stomping off into my room and slamming the creaky door.
For some reason, that whole moment seemed to replace my fear of the upper hallway into bitterness.
I suppose beggars can't be choosers.