"Oh. You're here again." You say to him as he remains seated on the bench near the school building. He looked like he was waiting for something so you tried to bother him. To add, you have business with him since the last time you've seen him.
But you have come prepared, doing neck exercises since the first time you've seen him. You puffed your chest proudly.
"Romero Claire." He says like he was declaring it. And your eyes squint.
"Good to see you too, Goliath." You say to him and he looks at you with a puzzled expression.
"Goliath?"
"Yeah. It's what my friends call you. One of them saw me and you together the last time. And they called me David. We're David and Goliath. You know... that small dude who threw a rock on a giant in the bible."
He looked like he was thinking hard and you just looked at him. You took a deep breath before putting out an illustration towards him.
"Story. David. Rock. Goliath. Small. Giant. Rock. Dead."
He nods like a child before saying the first thing that came on his mind.
"But I can just receive it."
"THAT ISN'T ABOUT VOLLEYBALL. IT'S A REFERENCE. AND YOU CAN'T RECEIVE A ROCK." You raised your voice in irritation but you coughed, changing the topic.
"So anyway who are you waiting for?"
"Just passing the time."
It was strange. He doesn't look like the type who can let time pass. "Instead of playing volleyball?" You ask him.
He nods. "You were just done with training aren't you?"
He nods again. "You're here for practice?" You ask.
"And seeing my father."
"Ohhh." You say but you weren't the type to pry. "So how was it? Playing against the team here?"
"It was okay." He says shortly.
"Hm. But they're below average though." You say lazily and Ushijima looks at you in surprise.
But he doesn't question you. Someone who had grown in a household with world class talents was bound to have fucked up standards. A player with a foundation far greater than he has seen. And to think you weren't playing.
"Did you went for a run?" He asks, looking at your track pants.
"Yup." You weren't a player. But you couldn't let your skills rot even if you wished for it. You had nasty things to experience whenever you go home and deteriorating skills would make that worse.
You suddenly looked at his muscles, remembering something. You started scribbling something on paper.
"You're in the process of training to hit crosses right?" You say and he nods. "How'd you know that?" He asks.
"Instincts. And I saw you practice the other day."
"Then it's not instincts then?"
Look at this hot shot. You puffed and started scribbling.
"Asking advice on super inner crosses to right handed people won't work, hot shot. They'll give you theories and their observations at most." You say and he thinks about it.
"Here you go." You hand him the paper and he curiously looks at it.
"This is... a training menu?"
"And decent advice. I have left handed relatives. A ton. If it's advice you want, I can give you reference." You say.
"You can try it if you like." You suggested.
He was wondering about it. How you, who says she doesn't play that much could suddenly construct a training menu and give him advice. But your suggestions sounded like you had just issued a challenge and had raised a fact— Ushijima Wakatoshi will not acknowledge you as long as you don't play.
You were tired of him looking at you like that. And you gave him this menu— as a warning and a challenge. The side of his lips slightly twitched up. Ushijima Wakatoshi was up for it.
"Are you always here?"
"I'm always around." "Just watching?" He asks.
You nod. But he had seen you watching from afar on numerous occasions. From various sports and recently, in volleyball. And it would be a lie to say that he wasn't wondering why you would do so.
"You're satisfied with only watching?"
"Of course. If you want to be good at a sport, you have to take advantage of every perspective you can get."
He looks at you deep in thought as he listened to your words. He realized how you've never really watched a game from the same seat every time.
And it was interesting.
"Then tell me how is it the next time we meet." You grin.
—
"You were totally hitting on him." Norrie says the moment you ran to her. For some reason, she had perfectly witnessed you and Ushijima again and you know where this conversation is going.
"I WASN'T." You emphasized, wondering why you're friend always pushed her imagination to the limit and why she was so vocal about it.
"I just knew athletes were your type." She says, practically ignoring whatever you were saying.
"I only gave him a training menu."
"Eh?" She asks in surprise. And you wonder why she was reacting like it was a big deal.
"But you always charge for that though." She spilled the fact. "It's a trial. And it's not a big deal."
"Umm... honey, you earn more than my parents by planning those menus and it's not a big deal?"
Your mouth formed a thin line, not being able to answer.
"YOU LIKE HIM."
"I JUST MET HIM RECENTLY."
"Hmmmm..." She hums in suspicion. "Then why are you being nice?" she adds. "I wasn't being nice. It was a challenge since he looks at me like I was wasting my skills away."
"But you are." your friend deadpans says and you glare at her. "But you aren't usually bothered by those though." she says and you fell silent. She was right. But you had other reasons.
"He's a volleyball idiot." You say, recalling how he'd practice first and practice last. And you always catch a glimpse of him every time you go for a run on the morning and the late afternoon. You were very curious, meeting someone that crazy about a sport. It was the first time in a while. And seeing him practice pumped you up.
You had a nasty habit. If you found a sport that interested you, you would do everything to learn and know about it. Since the day Ushijima had asked you your opinion, you've asked your network of information for videos, information, advice, anything. And you did it for curiosity's sake.
"Idiots are totally your type."
"You aren't my type."
"You bitch." She snarles before the both of you burst out, laughing.