Practice weekend
Everyone knows that there's twenty-four hours in a day yet I simply can't find enough of those ticking seconds to scramble out of bed, wash myself, devour more than I can chew and still find time to look presentable. I might as well become one with the shaggy look at this point. I now stand just outside the two gym doors with anticipation gnawing on my lips, picking at my fingernails whilst the unrelenting trickle of the morning sun scorches my back. I don't know why I'm so anxious this should be a walk in the park its the boys that should be rueing the day that they ruined mine but looking back on it now maybe I am too much of a culture shock for them. I'm enough to handle as it is, I mean look at them have they really had any other outside interactions other than the filtered crap that the Japanese government considers safe for their younger viewers. Well that's bullshit since Japan handles their young, influential minds poorly considering their crime rates against women and outspoken people.
Their actions can't be blamed but their society can.
To some certain degree, I admit I can be too much at times, but I simply will rot away and die if I can't blurt out what I'm thinking. My maturity might have been stunted from having three older brothers and a caregiving sister, I grew up spoiled in my interracial household. My brothers are overbearing morons that'd rather scoff down the last pizza box than call me or Annabelle down and she was the pretty one, the amiable one that crossed bridges between us all. Getting my voice out and screaming to the top of my lungs sometimes was the only way to being heard and I guess that sort of pattern of thinking haunts me to this day. No one likes a loudmouth, an overachiever, someone who can speak their mind in an overly con-formative society.
Well, I guess people can go fuck themselves sideways because I'm not changing for anyone but for myself.
Gripping onto the handles a sudden shiver of tantalising richness pushes me forwards swinging the two doors open like the grand entrance that I deserve to have. Coach Washijo stands like an unmoving mountain his slow purposeful glare slides back onto me whilst much could be said about the scaredy cats hanging from the railings, each other and some even ready to throw some hands. Its laughable really but I withhold my sputters of joy for the smirking cat of wonderland I embrace the bio-field of sweaty teenage boys and a senile old man as mine.
They may be a bunch of bastards, but they are my bastards.
"I'm back bitches, did ya miss me!" Throwing my arms out wide, chest puffed out and a sardonic grin finally claiming my place back on the team.
Instantaneously a unanimous sigh parades through the gymnasium, they look back up with as much enthusiasm if they have just won nationals and to my surprise even the great Ushijima seems somewhat pleased of my return. In his own little expressionless way do I see the beginnings of a curling lip, coach on the other hand stalks over. A none too pleased glare spikes holes through my skull, flinching from his beckoning hand only to shiver from his condescending head pat. His wrinkled smile mimics my youthful before a crawling shiver douses down my spine as I only have mere moments to process a launching slender man rugby tackling me into a hug.
Tendou is ultimately pleased with his arms cradling around my torso that my feet dangle around in the air as we spin countless times enough so that I begin to hallucinate stars. Dropping back down with a thud he and the rest of the sorry lot break their backs in a full body prostration of a nighty-degree bow shouting from the tops of their lungs.
"We're very sorry. Please forgive us!"
I would much rather prefer them kissing the floor, but no one can be a winner these days, choking with laughter as I hulk smack their spines into a bone crushing hug. Ushijima receives special treatment seeing how he was the ringleader of assholes with starting this whole shebang, luckily for me he was the one to finish it. He's a man of his word, he finishes what he started and it makes a my grateful pussy throb. My arms have been aching for hours since he sent me that full body nude of him and yet having his body flush against mine just gets me going again.
"Oh, you guys, I already forgave you assholes the moment your sweet captain here sent me an oh so special gift." Giggling I don't miss for a beat the sideway glances all stopping on one tall green giant.
Their faces tell me everything that I need to know, what was going on behind the scenes, how desperate they were and at the very least someone here had the fucking balls to man-the-fuck-up. But I'm not fussed either way, that boy certainly has curves that's for sure. Swaying upon the unmovable man my hands growing itchy to go lower and grab, but I restrain myself from the temptation. Soon releasing him after getting a full body douse of his cologne or more like his natural vanilla-woody smell that I could bottle up.
Making a start towards the ball cart the rest of the boys stay behind perplexed behind my reasonings, they'll know in due time.
"Now then ladies, line up." Still standing around Coach as if he has the fucking magical answer about all this yet all he does is take a seat clearly enjoying the show.
The galloping of their squeaky trainers smearing across the woody planes is astounding when they value their lives just as much to the expend of their Coach taking a seat. I'm more than just a manager, he knows it, the team knows it and if they want nationals then they're going to have to learn to fucking bend and push out their arses for a beating.
"Chop, chop." Clapping my hands, they quickly round up their sorry but very plump arses over here.
Squeaking to a stop, a ball in hand the rough texture bounces in and out of my palm, walking up from head to toe down the line reading their worried and perplexed faces. They're morons to think I'm easily won over by a bunch of apologies, stalking texts and... and a nude sent by the most unapologetic person that I have ever come across. No, this is payback.
"I'm going to say this once just for all of you to understand. I'm not happy about the shit-talking nor have I truly forgiven you for it, you all have one of two options: option number one you bend over and get the greatest ass whooping of the century or you receive one of my serves. Choose wisely."
That sure puts the boys in a rut, neither wanting a spank mark branding their cheek but their faces implode with cockiness written all over them as if my attitude doesn't disclose my threat. To them i'm just a second-grade high school girl that just happens to know a few things about volleyball. Fucking imbeciles, boys never change it doesn't matter what font you put them in they still think that they're the superior gender in everything. Sports, games, cars, racing, you name it they think that they're the motherfucking Gods. Well, it's time for someone to put a leash on them and rein them the fuck in.
"Ladies?" Tendou scoffs with a shy of a laughter, the others I.e., Ohira and Yamagata smirk looking away like a bunch of Chad wannabes.
Pausing as their gaze's flicker between me, the ball and then to Tendou.
"Well as you all would rather gossip like a bunch of bitches in heat than get down and dirty and be a 'real man' I see you all nothing more than conniving sons with a silver spoon shoved so far down your throats that I can see my own reflection on the other side." the team stiffens shutting the hell up.
They need to be spoon fed everything no wonder Coach Washijo finally stepped up and asked for help and rightfully so someone needs putting them in their places. The world doesn't care for their shit but the moment that they think that they're better than anyone who is less fortunate than themselves will find out the wrath that I have.
Making them wait just as they made me, I make a start over towards the benches to shed myself of the managerial tracksuit and into my sports bra and spandex. Still the boys look away whilst some being Ushijima, Yamagata and the fucking stick up his arse Shirabu neither blinks nor bats an eye. Rather the others look away to only peek back in like it's the very first time they've seen the female body. I'm not even naked and yet they're behaving like I've just cummed all over their faces. Tying my hair up into a high ponytail hoping that the tail won't flick into my face when I serve.
Bitch please I'm going to sit on their faces when they start acting like sportsman.
Ushijima pulls up before me as the others move away into a line off the court hyping their captain up as he barely gathers himself into a receiving position. His upper body is bent over his feet whilst his knees square beneath his shoulders, the orientation of his arms hangs loosely by his side. If this man could mock me this would be the very stance that he'd pull. Their cheering quietens to a low murmur as I pull myself around the net finally doing something about this bitch.
If I must beat respect into them then so be it.
Taking a few steps back knowing exactly where I want the ball to go as I glaze over his squatting form oh, he's going to regret performing like he's about to square off against a toddler. Swinging my right arm, the ball shoots up before me and I begin my three steps, one to start the momentum, two to push enough power for the third and final step of lifting off the ground. The crowd awes basing on the side-lines, Ushijima's position tightens after not recognising from the swing of my arm and the position of my palm. It connects and with the flick of my wrist at the very last second the ball propels itself like a cannon ball. Ushijima leans far too forward and pays the price of his negligence as the shuddering ball rolls rebounding up and off his left shoulder landing just behind him.
He stoically remains standing, that's something.
"Nice receive cap, maybe we might be seeing eye to eye. You can begin practice now or join the crowd." Gesturing to said crowd now gulping and praying for their mothers.
They're simply dead men walking.
But his frown worsens nodding to my comment as he heads over heads to the benches dodging his wryly crew to chug down the remainder of his water bottle. How I wish to be that bottle right about now, what a selfish little slut it is. Heading to get the next ball the team pushes and pushes until they birth Tendou out with a disgruntled manic cry begging for mercy knowing that he annoyed me the worst this past week. Learning from his captains mistakes he goes low probably too low for one of my receives but seeing how the guy is over six foot tall and hunches over as he walks he might have to compensate. Seeing my serve and knowing how his captain handled it Tendou amps himself by outlying his arms and bracing for the grunt of my attack. Just as I think that I've got him his arms slide beneath the ball and rebounds crookedly, it's as if he based his entire movements on guessing my movements alone.
It's a terrifying feat to achieve.
"You've redeemed yourself Tendou , just no more obsessive texts, eh." Smiling quickly at him before switching back into the sadistic bitch that I've become for now.
It wasn't long before everyone had red raw arms or faces turning black and blue as they tried to control the ball's momentum and fail at sending it back with their arms or their faces. Whilst others saunter off with their egos bruised others fuck reflecting on their poor forms and continue like unmoving mountains to back to their techniques. Which I can only say is debatable seeing how well Goshiki keeps smacking his face into the ball whenever he spikes one of Shirabu's sets or if I squint it might be on purpose seeing how the ball is low and the flow is awkward.
Semi-semi lingers by the court lines fidgeting with a ball in his hands and well looking rather anxious with the stress expelling from him is more than palatable that I could vomit from watching him pace any longer.
"Hey, Semi are you okay?" He flinches dropping the ball rather looking like a freaked out lamb, we both watch it rolls away towards me.
"Uh, eh, yeah, heh, why?" He chokes sideways glancing away from me.
Raising a suspicious brow to his already increasing suspicious behaviour I draw closer to him only for his twitching to increase the closer my eyes rake over his form.
"I don't know you just seem a bit... off. What's up? Do you need help with your serves?" He flinches again but this time finally giving in and answering me with a curt nod.
This is the part where I would slap his ass for overthinking things and worrying about something just as small as perfecting a serve yet I find myself hesitating. I don't want to be that girl that drives a rift within the team and not learn to change my most problematic behaviours. I won't change myself so drastically that I become a different person entirely but enough so that Semi here can relieve some of his stresses without flinching at all my physical contact with him.
Watching from the side-lines as he prepares himself for a serve; his back foot lands facing his forward position whilst his leg bends awkwardly. I want to shake my head and correct it, but I remain silent as I continue to observe the disaster before me throw the ball up only for the ball to skim his fingers and land just before him. From what I know so far both on and off the court, Semi, is a flashy personality, he likes music, odd styles and yet his serves aren't oozing with his spark. Stepping forth before he can make more of an embarrassment of himself my waving palm at his stricken form tell me more than I need to know.
He needs some serious help.
"Alright, I see your problem." Snatching the ball between his palms the bubbled surface finds home upon my skin.
"Not going to lie but you are pretty shit. You're lacking that... umph. No worries, I think jump serves would definitely work well for your... flashy style. Seeing how you're flashy as fuck." Wincing from my own words trying not to butcher this man's fragile ego more than I can, I hand the ball back to him.
I repeat the same iconic serve that I had given them just half an hour ago but as I hand the ball back to him, I can already see how this is going to go from his pinched brows and stiff fingers puncturing the ball's surface. It takes around the fourth time for me to get in there and do something about it, gesturing him with my eyes and asking with my hands. First, I manipulate his back as his posture is far too backwards to help start his running up towards the jump serve. I'm sort of surprised that he hasn't asked Ushijima for any tips or Goshiki for that matter but I'm guessing it has something to do with his delicate pride.
He yearns to be seen within a storm full of stars.
My palms correct him by pushing him slightly forward while his head glares deeply into the domed metal ceiling exactly where the blue and yellow ball will be but upon handling him his body tenses. Is he shitting himself? Or... my gaze trails down to the dent in between his legs, the growing creases in his shorts grow taut in fear of ripping from how fiercely they grip his thighs.
They aren't as girthy as Ushijima's.
"Oi, virgin stop stiffening up like you've got a boner, I'm trying to fix your shitty posture." He squawks an embarrassed cry quickly detangling himself from me as if I've just branded him with a hot rod.
Others glance over to see if the boner is real and from the looks of things it sure lives up to its name however the nebby-noses resume practice with their interest lost Semi recomposes himself. Or tries to recover from his little freak out moment. Alas, he nods returning to his prior position continuing to flinch with each pass of my hands over his body as if they've become his worst nightmare. I doubt that he's absorbing anything that I'm trying to show him by manhandling him into a proper form since he's too concerned about blowing a load in his boxers.
Removing my hands, the red-hot rods turn to ice as he flinches again as his chattering lips open for a plea, but I wave him off to shut the fuck up and to stop him from wasting my time any further.
"You need to sort yourself out, I'm not going to help until I get some actual vocalisation from you other than your whimpering, I'm not a bloody mind reader how am I supposed to help if you don't tell me anything. Secondly, and this isn't as important as the first, but a tiny bit will go a long way with figuring yourself out... by getting laid." His cheeks dust over quickly in either embarrassment or acknowledgement of his messy identity, you can't tell.
"As your manager I'm not just going to be helping out with keeping schedules, cleaning up and washing bibs, I'm also going to be helping with your form, your timing and your strategies." giving him a levelled look to say 'calm the fuck down, I'm not trying to fuck you, I'm just trying to do my job' but I beg to differ if that got translated well.
He curtly nods more so to himself than to me as he tries shaking off whatever's playing him whilst giving me a sympathetic smile that I have no idea the meaning behind. Whilst Semi is spiralling out of control I pivot to see what the others are up to; heading over to the bench to see if the water bottles need refilling.
That's when I see it from my new procured advantage point. Tendou, Goshiki, Ohira are blocking Ushijima from yet another powerful spike alongside Shirabu and Yamagata's offensive but somethings off. Ushijima's form looks different, his swing is less powerful, his brows are bunched up twinging together, and his flexed jaw tells me that he's done something that he shouldn't have. A heavy-set frown displaces my natural smile as I further watch the utter garbage of a spike just make it past the three-man block.
Fuck me he's still as powerful to break through a three-man block with an injury. Fuck, I think I'm wet from my spiralling thoughts eating away at the possibilities a man of his calibre could do to me. Leaning onto the bench as I fear I might topple over from my locked thighs pressing heavily together as the insidious lust grapples at my hearth. Rather I could eat a man that unwavering to his duty as I imagine him between my thighs eating me with such vigour and unwavering fervour like he does to volleyball.
Quickly shooting the coach a side glance as he too watches Ushijima grow weaker by each spike he makes; I should do something before the coach intervenes and slaps him.
Clapping the resounding room stills and all eyes land onto me even the fuming coach seethes within his anger towards his captain's mistake in not properly caring for himself.
"Time out, Ushijima come here." Demanding his attention is the only way to get to the bottom of his pain.
Biting my lip fiercely as I almost add 'good boy' at the end of that sentence as I watch him head over, my bad habits are becoming harder to control yet I doubt Ushijima would care. He already ignores me as it is, I'm more surprised that he's coming over like a good little boy. Yikes, if he ever heard me call him 'little' I just hope that when that day comes it's on a bed with my legs spread open and his ferocious glare pointing between them.
And I'm wet again.
Ushijima falters as he shrugs his left shoulder into a rounded motion as if it's not the head of the shoulder but the pectoralis major muscle causing him the primary discomfort. My eyes narrow scrutinising his enlarging form as he closes the distance between us; the others gather around the corners panting. Raising a sceptical brow at his always passive glare branded onto his chiselled features, if only he could crack an emotion other than 'caveman' he'd look breath-taking.
"You aren't hiding anything from me, now, are you?" Standing closer just a fine hairs width between your chests.
"Because if you are I won't hesitate to release to the world what you sent to me last night." Uttering between his hard gaze and my own as I step out of the enclosed space.
Of course, I'm calling at my own bluff as I wouldn't dream of releasing that dirty little picture out for the world to see. This time I am truly kidding when I mean by 'little' as there was nothing little about him. Taking out the med kit from the bench that I had already trifled through to find the ice pack and some ointment as well gauze just in case the idiot has done something serious to his shoulder, his spiking arm.
I wave to the bench, and he reluctantly sits joining me by my right side.
"Now where does it hurt?" His twitchy gaze rolls back to the ever-empty court as it continues to seem that his need to play is as ever present as the need to ignore me.
It's not like I'm trying to help nor actually get him back onto the court but hey-ho you can sit hit simmering with a swollen shoulder for all I care where it's clear to me that powering through the pain must be his motto. Heaven forbids, he tells me that he's hurting or gives anything away other than his typical frowny expression. When he doesn't respond and blatantly ignore me yet again, I do the only other thing possible; I jump him as I won't be taking liability when he becomes pissy with me aiding him.
Luckily for me he takes silence like a virtue.
Gently palpating around the sore swollen area feeling around the hard clavicle ridges above his pectorals, my flicking gaze lands to his face for any clear signs of pain. I don't know what I was expecting to be honest at least something along the lines of a hiss of his breath or the unsteady rise and falls of his chest... but nothing. It's as though the pain of a swollen shoulder is below him and his mighty bigot ways to succumb to acts of whimpering in defeat. Of course, the great Ushijima Wakatoshi doesn't moan, or whimper let alone hiss through his teeth.
I can't help the smile crossing my lips as I can think of numerous ways to get him to his knees moaning... in pleasure. But I keep my gob shut lest we have another redo of a week ago befalling down onto my very feet. My fingers reach around the area where the swelling is just beginning this is where my touch is crucial to find the true source of the problem, but I have an inkling where he got it from. I might have been a little too harsh in performing my jump serves for them to receive when I had made it clear beforehand that my serves are not to be messed with especially when I'm pissed.
His knees knock and that's when I notice his dug in nails brandishing his tanned skin with crescent moons, the veins upon his hands are raised like a rash. So, he is human after all and just like the devil he hisses when I lightly massage into a sore spot of his pectoralis muscle and grunts when I begin to motion his left arm in a circular motion. Every time the arm is taut and pulled high above his head he hisses and when the arm is swung down, he grunts as his left side grows tense.
The area wouldn't have become so inflamed if he wasn't a moron for using it to spike with but then again, this idiot would rather walk on glass than admit weakness. It's a sign of zero self-awareness of one's ability during injury and when to call it quits, it's becoming apparent to me that Ushijima is lacking more in the common-sense department as well. He's becoming very annoying to deal with and handle, but I can't stay mad at that face, well really his body.
I guess I'll just have to suck up to his personality like I do mine half the time I'm around any of these boys.
"You're such a fucking idiot, if I didn't see this you could have said goodbye to your volleyball career as you could have given yourself long term damage." Clicking my tongue somewhat disappointed in him and somewhat exaggerating the part where it could end his career.
I must take the extremes in scenarios where numpties like him can get it through their thick heads that asking for help isn't the end of the world. Grabbing onto his left forearm again while taking out the ice pack and towel to wrap it up so it's easier to handle for the both of us, doing this makes the gap between us lessen even more. The faint smell of his vanilla body wash mingles in with the sandalwood musk of the court that lingers in with his natural body odour to which doesn't smell half as bad as I was expecting. My nostrils flare and I inhale as much of him as I can possibly take in for one breath, I'm a whore for a beautifully smelling man.
I don't discourage the behaviour even when his eyes drill holes into my side profile the longer I press the towel bag of ice into his shoulder. Noticing the tension lessens between us especially his fingers digging like vices of iron into his knees as they slacken, and a heavy sigh draws out.
"I'm sorry." Looking up into those olive eyes that shadow beneath his bangs, I can't help but return a smile.
I really didn't expect him to apologise it's also very uncharacteristic of him.
Sitting here with him now somewhat holding him hostage that I have nothing more to say to him and yet I know the moment I take this ice off him he'll run back to the court. Well, he'll walk but I know he's running inside because I'm the evil stepmother hindering his growth from achieving new heights, that's surely how he sees me. If not, I'm most definitely not held in high regards in his book but at least he will always be my number one.
After what feels like an eternity of silence, the gentle giant continues where he left off.
"Thank you, L/n-san. I know sometimes I can be course with how I speak, and my actions can often appear that I'm not interested." He speaks eloquently addressing further himself. "But I am grateful to your assistance." My smile fades as my eyes bulge and lips open several times trying to comprehend this development.
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?! Is this the same Ushijima that blatantly called me a nuisance and I was unwanted help to this team, that Ushijima just apologised and complimented me in the same sentence. I, I think I'm having an aneurysm, this can't be real, yet he looks at me as if I'm the fool. I look around to see if anyone else has overheard that but no one looks frazzled or if the world has just ended rather I'm the only one who heard it, just me.
What's more damning is my heart, he doesn't lie nor coat his words in sugar like everyone else, he truly means that, where praise is due he gives it. It's not an aneurysm it's a heart attack with how fiercely my heart is beating and numbing all sound into white noise around me as I just stare at the beauty of this man.
Fuck me Ushijima Wakatoshi, I'm going to be the mother of our children, the beauty to his beast.
All I can offer in return is a shrug and a passive acknowledgement to his own compliment that the heat in my cheeks surely speaks louder than my rude response or lack of thereof. As my arm grows tired, I change positions to straddle the bench now my front faces his left side and I notice that the others return to practice finishing up the other half of morning practise. His eyes gleam in anticipation and I can hear his steadying breath pick up a pace as his eyes dart to the ball, the net and his teammates.
Oh, how left out he must feel.
Tough luck baby cakes you're stuck with me for another fifteen minutes.
"So, sexy." Grinning from ear to ear unable to help myself by whispering it aloud.
Ushijima just arches a brow whilst his menacing frowny face neutralises into something else that I can't put a finger on as his eagerness to return to the court tenth folds over. Sparkles dancing before his eyes as I remove the ice pack testing the shoulder before applying some adverse pressure to the affected area. He shifts in his position, but I doubt from the uncomfortable pressure as his thighs widen and his hips wiggle. A bucking horse in a pen drugged up on adrenaline as all he sees is the net line and the ball but here, I am cooling down his predator intensity.
"Hey, you better take it easy on yourself this shoulder isn't completely healed, after this head straight to the nurse and get it wrapped unless you want me to do it. But if you break something so God help me, I'll beat the shit out of you where the sun doesn't shine." Placing the pack down behind him his teetering gaze shifts from myself to the court and then to his shoulder with a slow curt nod.
Oh, fuck I hope he's not slow.
I watch as Ushijima flexes his left shoulder before shaking it off as if he hasn't just bruised a muscle especially one so important for spiking, I'll admit it's somewhat my fault for the ball rebounding onto him. But I'm serious about my threat and I know he knows that too or I think he does, God these boys might be volleyball obsessed but I think some are lacking a brain between their eyes. But just as Ushijima joins them practise ends and I can finally see him eat something at least coach Washijo isn't a complete sadist in denying his team a little reprieve from his sadistic torture.
Rummaging through my bag to find my snacks I notice a hand waving me over by the very end of the gym closest to the back door lie most of the team sitting around in a circle. Are these boys twelve? Are we going to play, 'duck, duck, goose'? Heading over I notice most of them now slurp smoothie or yogurt packs whilst Ushijima munches on an apple.
I don't know what's sexier Ushijima eating an apple or the man sitting with one knee up and the other knotted underneath with his left elbow balancing atop. At least he's keeping it elevated but he's still yet to have it wrapped, quickly narrowing my gaze at him before taking the spot Tendou has so kindly offered me. I regret smiling at him in return as his eyes only grow wide when that sinister grin returns.
"Damn, Y/n-chan you can actually behave like a girl." Tendou coughs between breaths as he and many others choke on their food.
Ushijima looks almost uninterested and Shirabu disregards the conversation with an eye roll the others including Semi fail at hiding their grins. Rolling my own eyes and sucking upon my teeth I gaze back at the sneaky fucker.
"Can't you see, or do you need to go to Specsavers to get them checked out?" Grabbing a hold of my own breast unafraid of others to stare directly at them. "I not only have tits but more balls than you."
Before any of them could retort however I take his long slender hand and place it atop my breast as he shivers from the realisation, the entire circle goes quiet. A pin could be dropped, and it would echo. I watch as Tendou turns fifty shades darker in deep gushing red flustering up to his ears and down to the bottom of his neck as his nose bleeds. Pushing him off I lean in and punch in the ribs where I'm sure most of the air vacates his lungs.
"It's on sight if any of you joke about that again." l laugh threateningly.
The only one that doesn't still in fear is the motherfucker that continues to munch on his apple cork our gaze's lock. A question hanging in the air before he returns to eating the entirety of the cork, the stork and the pip. He's utterly insane.
"Now then shouldn't we be getting back to practice, Semi have you got that boner under control." Clapping my hands, I don't miss for a beat as he looks away embarrassed, well isn't karma a bitch for laughing at me.
The others joke and nudge him like all high school Chads do thinking that they're the shit, teasing their friends and being bros again. I'm so glad that I'm not in America anymore. Making my way to the benches putting my rubbish in my bag and chugging some water before I head right back out there into the wilds. I was right about one thing; Semi's eighth grade boner was under control as he allowed me to manhandle him into a proper form for his jump serve and this time it worked. There are a few tweaks needed but he's getting there.
For the rest of the day, I finish helping Semi out with his serves, show Shirabu some techniques to maintaining a poker face during the heat of the moment but I doubt he's taking anything on board. Continuing note-taking, washing bibs, cleaning balls not the kind that I would like to nibble on and finally coach let's us free for the day. The old fool was more than pleased with today's practise that he let me in on about tomorrow; I make sure that Ushijima went back to the changing rooms so that he didn't cause further damage to his injury.
Sunday arrives with clear skies and humidity high as fuck as I feel trickles of sweat making themselves home between my shoulder blades and my ass crack. Fuck my life. The team whilst reluctantly leaves the gym behind for their one-mile marathon run that coach has allowed me to host since he's spending the early morning with his wife. Which I'm surprised that anyone would condemn themselves into marrying that sadist then again he may be one of those kinds that hate everyone except one person, their person.
Isn't that the dream.
Pulling up to the front balancing the bike between my legs with one foot on the ground, I instantly notice a layered bump across Ushijima's chest and shoulder.
"How's the shoulder?" Jutting my head in the direction his gaze remains on me.
"Better, thank you again for yesterday." He deadpans but this time Ohira and Yamagata overhear making this short little chat ever the more exciting as they both exchange a look.
That's right bitches, Ushijima Wakatoshi has just complimented me twice. Fuck, I can now die happy. My smile however fades upon noticing Tendou and Goshiki battling it out with their invisible light sabres in the back.
"Don't think I've forgotten about yesterday." Tendou flinches his neck creaking on its hinges as he turns to acknowledge my existence.
Getting geared up I turn to the rest of them seemingly raring to go not Ushijima of course the bastard is taking this run in his stride, I'm not even going to be surprised to find him back here first. So, I might as well add a little bit of spice to this run.
"If you all manage to complete the marathon under one hour then I'll buy you all ice creams." this perks up their attention until Goshiki whines pointing at my bike.
"That's no fare." Shirabu nods not that anyone is looking at him right now as majority of the attention resides with me but I see and he turns pink with shock.
"Life's a bitch isn't it." Sarcastically pouting as I resemble his whiney face.
Looking over my shoulder as the hair upon my nape rises and shrills of adrenaline whoosh past me, it feels like standing between stampeding bulls and a waving red flag. I might have my panties in a twist from the thought of finally being railed into oblivion.
"Alright, you ready get steady.... bananas!" I can't help bursting through the seams with laughter as they all jolt to a stop and glaring at me as if I'm the wicked witch of the west.
"GO!" And then they were off, I keep back behind the unsurprising stragglers of Tendou and Shirabu as I just see the fringe of a bowl cut out dot panting behind Ushijima.
These two however don't seem to fare well doing long distant running.
Soon leaving the snails behind knowing that they're going to take the whole damn day to return and as I head back to school finding most of the team members collapsed outside the gymnasium gasping for air. Looking to the ground I find Ushijima perfectly alright and chugs his drink with a slither of sweat dripping down his temple, is he Robocop? How is he even human.
Clapping my hands, they all fall silent.
"Alright tell me what you want." They're all so shattered that inaudible murmurs and broken speech is spoken back.
I turn to Ushijima begging him with my eyes to come along and without much kneeling on the ground he caves. He seems severely unfazed by the marathon, and it makes me wonder just how much of a gym guy he is. He must run every day and at least for a couple of miles at that. I just look at him in awe as we pass the stranglers of the team who are wheezing by the gates.
Stopping I turn to arch a disappointed brow to them both not that Shirabu has the energy to fight one back.
"And what time do you call this? I know what I'll be writing about in my notes, your shite stamina needs improvements." Smacking both Shirabu and Tendou's heads as me and Ushijima both continue.
I don't miss for a second how they look at us leering over their shoulders shooting daggers into my skull, it's not like I'm going to corrupt the poor soul... that badly. We finally make it to Seven-Eleven and we - I – very much bask in the cold air conditioning.
Standing before the ice cream aisle I watch as Ushijima picks out a vanilla ice cream and I can't help the chuckle that escapes me, his olive gaze flits over his shoulder as he looks at me strangely.
"It's just funny how a guy like you immediately chooses vanilla ice cream. It makes me wonder if you're a vanilla type of guy." I shrug with a wink but of course he doesn't get it.
My sweet innocent giant sternly holds up the ice cream between us cocking his head as he turns the cone around between his large fingers. I didn't know I could hold a secret vendetta against an ice cream cone until now, how I wish to be that cone.
"How can I be vanilla when I'm human." I want to facepalm myself.
"Oh, my god Ushijima don't you ever want to live a little and maybe choose this." swapping out his basic bitch ice cream for a strawberry cheesecake flavoured one; putting three in the basket one for him the rest for myself.
They're my favourite.
He looks at me then to the ice cream then to me before shrugging off whatever he's feeling to merely northing. We choose randomly for the others from our lucky dip of the straw on what we assume everyone will like it's up to them to divvy out the winnings.
We spend the next three seconds in comfortable silence before halting from a strangled holler just a few feet away from the store, two extremely good-looking boys square off between Ushijima as some untouched rivalry seemingly becomes apparent rather one-sidedly. I notice one leans more on the shorter side however his very muscular build and natural glare tells me all I need to know about the second, much prettier one. He's tall with wind swept wavy hair curtaining above his brows his smile is welcoming but his vibe says otherwise completely dislodging his kind intentions.
Whatever it is I don't like it as the player vibe trumps his friendly personality. I wouldn't know if they come from Shiratorizawa or elsewhere since I've barely been here a month.
"USHIWAKA!" They both loudly exclaim, their faces growing tense.
Muscles grow taut and fists bundle up at their sides, Ushijima fully turns to them now curtly nodding to them as if he's well accustomed to this sort of outlandish behaviour. However, I spot his own jaw bunched and grounded, he must really hate that name seeing how it funnily incorporates his first and last name. Damn why didn't I think of something like that.
Immediately I become invisible between the three of them.
"Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime," Ushijima pauses.
"We'll be seeing you at the inter-high prelims. There's still time to change to Shiratorizawa until then unless you still want to draw out the inevitable conclusion." I don't need to ask what that means when the answers display so cleanly on the strangers harden faces.
The much prettier one groans threading his fingers through his hair whining on about asking him the same exact thing each time they meet. But Ushijima continues.
"You'll learn that only the strong and the ones that show their greater strengths will be moving onto nationals." Unexpectedly he looks down to me hidden away behind his tall figure to the two of them to spot me.
"Huh, what was that? It'll be Aoba Johsai that will be going to nationals you robotic volleyball idiot." The prettier one spits; a frown permeates my smile.
Pulling out from the shadows I use the weight of the carrier bag as a hinge to balance out most of my weight when I roundhouse kick the motherfucker in his sorry arse watching with great delight as he falls to the ground.
"Hah, what was that pretty boy, you got to make your way to the top before you start challenging my team." I snarl, spitting out the backhanded compliment as I take Ushijima's hand in mine.
"Let's go Ushijima, our ice creams are going to melt if we waste any more time on these losers." Before pretty boy could even retort back to me, both me and Ushijima are half way down the street.
Ushijima doesn't share with me about his bouts with those complete idiots, so I don't say anything related to my sudden act of violence, I don't bring up anything about our strange meet up with bob the builder and playboy mansion to him or the rest of the team. It's a secret just for us.
~*~
This has been rewritten - 28/08/2022
Lol 8 months later and I finally rewrite this bitch
now until chapter 12 the nicknames are still in place so below I will list them off for you:
Hottie - Ushijima
Puppy eyes - Tendou
Salty - Shirabu
Bowl cut - Goshiki
Lanky - Kawanishi
Chocolate milk - Ohira
Sleepyhead - Yamagata
Frosty - Semi
Chibi - Himari
Dork - Yue