"Wait, If you're a professional trainer, why are you at the Physics department?"
"Both her parents have jobs that have short shelf lives so stop bothering the girl." Norrie answers their questions for you. You thanked her with a nod. "Which reminds me, what does her mother do?"
You stop short at the question and you glared at the players. "You all really do love gossip like some high school girls, don't you? You'd better be ready for practice then." You say as you scribble down on the papers set out on the bench.
"What are you doing?" Ushijima asks as he bends down to look at your work. "I owe the coach training guides so I'm helping out... a little." You say.
"This is 'a little'?" He asks as he looks at the pile of paper you have stacked on. And you only glare at him. "It is. I have more papers about you than this lot combined anyway." you say nonchalantly.
"That makes you sound like a stalker, you know." Norrie shouts from afar and you scowl at her. How the hell could she hear that and why was she so far away anyway? "About me?" Ushijima asks. "Yes, Yes. Your highest reaching point, The average statistics of your spikes from your high school days, even the training you've undergone in camps and in your school. I got most of the information from your previous school." You say without a care and he only looks at you.
"Girl, that's not how you confess to a man!" Norrie shouts yet again and you wanted to throw your shoe at her. "How did you even get that info?" he asks and you sigh. "You're some sort of superstar in highschool right? It isn't that hard to find out about those things. Some of those things are even on tape." You say and he only nods as he sits beside you, watching you work.
"So what professional sports have you dealt with before?" Ushijima asks after a while. "A little of soccer, beach volleyball, tennis..." you answer lazily.
"That explains those receives then!" One of the players said, shouting. "It was the footwork after all." Oh my god. They were listening in on the conversation.
"So you incorporate other skill sets you've acquired into other sports?" Ushijima asks and you grin. "Of course."
"Why?" He asks yet again and you remain focused on your work. "Because I can."
You wonder why he was so talkative today. You weren't used to it and you felt that something was off. You suddenly looked at him.
He was holding his phone and he was in a group chat. His teammates were making him read the questions from his phone.
You stare at him with dead eyes and he remains stoic like he wasn't just caught. "Are you a kid?"
—
You had been helping the coach with his training guides. From the schedule of the intramurals to your academic workloads that usually pile up before the sports events, this was the last day you could do it. So you finished up rather late. When you looked outside, it was already nighttime. Ushijima had been told to walk you home and although you could take care of yourself, the coach insisted.
You sigh as you walk by his side. There wasn't really anything to talk with him as he walks you to your home. You try to think about some things— about what happened after the demo match you had, and you remembered how your 'rival' had run away faster than you could trashtalk her. But you sure hope she wasn't calling herself your rival again.
Norrie had warned you before leaving that the sports department girls were deranged and had a mentality of a highschool bully but you ain't seeing them anywhere and you could probably take them head on.
But as if fate was sneering at you, on cue, a girl suddenly grabs your hair from behind. She was grabbing a fistful of your hair and you couldn't really react. You had been distracted so you haven't noticed. Ushijima looks at you, suddenly realizing the tense atmosphere. But before he could move, the stranger beat him to it.
"You cheater! How dare you do that to Emma!" She says and you hear the snap of scissors as she cuts your long hair that she grabbed into a mess. Your eyes widen as hair started falling on the ground. And Ushijima also looks at the whole thing.
You only stood still. Then you suddenly kicked her in her stomach. She flew a good few meters and was wincing from the pain. You grab the scissors which fell from the ground and walked towards her. Hell, you didn't need to go to her like the average slow villain.
Real villains aren't slow. They were realistic. You ran to her like a mad dog and you could see the teary expression in her face.
The dim light illuminated her face and you recognize her as one of Emma Jones' followers. And the girl she had brought inside to play in the match. "It's dead weight #2." You smirk at her and her eyes widen at your words.
Right now, only one thing mattered. It wasn't the hair she cut from your head. That didn't matter. You hear the sound ringing on your head as your priorities were made clear. You only wanted to do one thing, You wanted to get even.
You will do the same to her and Ushijima Wakatoshi watches you as you cut her hair, the entire thing looking like a child assaulting a woman. The poor girl ran like a puppy after you were done with her. You gave her a haircut which barely made her recognizable.
But strangely enough, you were a lot calmer than he expected. You remove your bonnet, the mess your hair was in being emphasized. Ushijima walks to your direction.
"It's fine it's fine." You tell him. He wondered about that.
"It's not my real hair." You suddenly say and his eyes widened.
"A wig? You're bald?" He asks, remembering seeing the Karasuno's vice-principal cheering with his wig. The image had been ingrained in his head despite seeing it for only a few seconds. And his simple brain functioned automatically, associating wigs with baldness.
"I'M NOT BALD!" you frown and start hitting him. But you just look like a child throwing a tantrum.
"Then why are you wearing one?"
"My hair stands out." You reply lowly.
"It does?" He asks absentmindedly, looking at the students suddenly passing by from their night classes, who were racially diverse and had a fairly colorful variety of hair color.
You inhaled, knowing what he meant and you wondered why you want to hit him so badly.
You glare at him while puffing your cheeks in frustration. But he only looks emotionless as always.
"It's not that my hair stands out."
"I look like my mom with my original hair color, okay?" You clarified.
"Is she famous?"
"Sort of." You say.
"Let's go..." You say and he looks at the mess your 'wig' was in. He looks like he was bothered by it and his face wasn't hiding it. "Is it that noticeable?" You ask and he nods.
You laughed and removed it, pulling the pins that held the wig in place. He looks elsewhere for a moment, giving you time.
"Ah, my hair is a mess." You finally say as you fix it. He looks at you and his eyes widened.
Platinum blonde hair that reached all the way to your waist came instantly in his line of sight. And to think you were tucking it in under a wig. But now that he has seen it, there was no mistaking it. Eyes that were like turquoise, fair skin that were all hidden underneat sweats, and platinum blonde hair. No wonder his teammates always talked about how you looked rather familiar.
"You're...?" He asks and you look at him as you sigh.
"Yeah." you said with a poker face. "Your mother is...?"
"Yes." You frowned at his lacking vocabulary that sounded like he was a gradeschooler asking someone for their self-introduction.
"I'm Lara. And my mother is the supermodel, Laura Wan." You confirmed.
Out of every information about you, you didn't like telling people this fact the most. You had a very high social profile, with a father as an athlete and a mother as a model. They were occupations that both had a short shelf life and most importantly... they were jobs that both needed what you will forever lack— Height.
Yes, it was already devastating to be born as a shrimp in a family of athletes. But it was even more so, when you were reminded that you were also short despite having all the necessary genes ready.
Ushijima Wakatoshi thought about why you were hiding it. You didn't looked like you care about being found out that you were a model or that you had a superior athletic background. But he has spent a lot of times with you already and he had an idea. He suddenly patted your head and you could hear a "don't mind" from elsewhere.
You only glared at him. He suddenly gives you his hoodie and he pulls it up to cover your head. The entire thing looks like a dress on you.
"What is this for?" You ask him. He looks at your posters that were scattered all over the place and you get what he was trying to tell. It was to protect you.
"It smells like you." You complain. "But thanks... I guess." You say, looking away.
He looks at you with a small smile. And the two of you continued walking.
"Does it smell bad?"
"Yeah."