A year before
1. Deconstructing Noya
If you know Nishinoya Yuu well enough, if you recognise his ability to empathize with his friends' problems and his daily efforts in order to jump into the bed thinking about how he could have done better; then you can highlight one thing about him above the others. And no, it is not his never-ending happiness or his energy with which he faces every game, every little detail of his blocks and moves on the court. It is not his short height or that blond, tiny lock—seriously, why had he dyed only that part of his head—which divides his hair in two. No. On the contrary, it is something much simpler.
Noya has a good relationship with practically everybody.
From far away, farther than the volleyball bench, it is something difficult to see. Noya seems to have an annoying personality; if you do not look closer you can easily mistake him for a capricious rating kid because "I want this now" or "I need you, come or die". Also, it may be related with that eternal rebel-without-a-cause expression or the fact that he is not much taller than five feet—despite the huge quantity of cheap grease he uses on his hair to disguise it. And it is better not to talk about that obsession he has with women which, for many people, deserves an urgent treatment along with a restraining order.
Actually, Noya is much more than all those prejudgements. Or, we might better say, much less. He is a regular first grade kid who studies only the necessary to get a C. He has a passion for volleyball that not only does he give it his everything—collecting dozens of bruises and scratches all the way along—but also he feels that something dies within him every time the other team's ball reaches the floor. I should have been faster, I should have hold on; I have to reach the next one, they count on me, and I must not fail again.
He considers himself as a heavy metal and rock and roll fan; he needs his Iron Maiden injection in order to go to school because there is a vibration in his chest when he listens to that guttural sounds and, only with that, he can get all the journey long seeing Mister Hananachi blowing his nose between physics lessons. He is a reliable fan of Pressing Catch and he records the combats every Saturday to watch wrestling after the volley matches. To top it all off, he has a little obsession with some colourful big eyed ponies with golden manes and nobody would ever know about it.
Anyway, that is not the main reason Noya gets along with everybody. The Karasuno's libero has a spark, a personal light which makes him glow at the end of the court and, at the same time, cheers everyone up from his position. Defender of his guys, a huge chatterbox and a top class nerd, Noya has every quality to be anybody's best friend as long as they have the guts to come closer. He could be a pain-ass child with every skirt within twenty feet—whose radar detects right away—, sure, but he compensates all the troubles with his kindness and his friendship. A short phone call and he would be there fifteen minutes later with the first season of Friends and a two-pound bag of snacks that they must finish; a broken smile and he would be doing a fool out of himself for hours in order to cheer a friend up so they could ride the roller coaster on spring holidays; a soft-music and uncomfortable-people party and he would convince everybody to dance way later than midnight. He would be more than willing to give his homework away if he had not been conscious of the mess he had made with question three… and every other question on the book.
Nevertheless, he had never asked for help to study or do his homework or other stupid and boring school related stuff; although, to be fair, he had never had to do it. His volley mates were always there to give him a hand and Asahi, every single week, sacrificed a couple study hours in order to get Noya understand the basic Chemistry laws. Asa was not the smartest guy in high school—well, not at all—, but he was one of that people which does anything for a friend. So, at the end, Noya forced himself on being awake until two a.m. revising his notes in order to get Asahi away from his house and so the big guy could have a little rest. Noya knew he deserved it.
That day was an exception. The soul of Noya was breaking little by little as he watched Asahi ask for a day off in his supermarket job in order to help him, but that was a desperate situation. The end of the school year, a bunch of failed exams in the last period and Noya could not understand what the difference between Pasado Perfecto and Pasado Continuo was. Of course, after ten grammar exercises on a row, Noya invited Asahi to at least three ice-creams—one of them the classic pear one—and he was talking non-stop for at least half an hour, trying get Asahi relax once and for all. Because he was worried, that was clear. Noya had a sixth sense for those things. He only had to wait and Asahi would finally speak out.
"You can tell me." Noya assured licking the last drops of his ice-cream from the little plastic spoon. "Well, if you want to".
Asahi jumped like he had been bitten and he looked at him in panic. "What do I have to tell you?"
"Dunno". Noya tasted the liquid ice-cream at the bottom of his coup and cleaned a stain on his nose tip. "Whatever thing is worrying you. I am not a wizard, you know?"
Asahi snorted, smiling like every time he wanted to laugh but something inside him prevented him from it.
"Sometimes you seem to be one".
Asahi was… like the antithesis of Noya but a million times. Long as a shining skyscraper, strong as Drederick Tatum, he was all smiles and encouraging words when the match was about to end, and a respectful silence in Literature class. The rest of the time he hid from the crowd, he shrank until he disappeared behind the shadows trying not to stand out at the end of the view. Asahi was sugar and milk, six and a half feet muffin wrapped in a reverential esteem for the whole humanity and a criminal facade which had given him more than one problem—Noya thought that it was so unfair that somebody so kind had to have a rough time because of his looking.
Asahi used to hide his uncomfortableness and his anguish, but Noya knew better. He saw it in his erratic gestures which clouded his spotless technique or his cold silence which lasted all the training—except those moments in which Asahi briefly talked to Daichi's ear—. There was always something that ratted him out, and Noya was not very smart but he had a PhD on those somethings.
"Police has come to my job" Asahi said at the end.
Noya dropped out the spoon and the coup of ice-cream tinkled. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"I have been reported" he explained with a dark glow in his eyes.
"What? Who?"
Whomever it is, I'm going to break their fucking jaw, fuck.
"A girl's mum to whom I gave indications last week". Asahi smiled, trying to see the funny look to that problem for sure and Noya had to contain himself not to hit him in the face to let that conformism go for the fuck sake. "She said I had perverted her child in order to go to a concert and I was trying to kidnap her or… something like that, the truth is I had no idea what she was talking about".
"But why didn't you speak out, Asahi!" Noya exclaimed plainly. "You have to defend yourself, nobody is going to do it for you!"
"Nothing had happened" Asahi said right way. "The girl could talk to the police and she explained I had never touched her. It looked like she was trying to say the same thing over and over and nobody was listening to her".
"And you even pity her!" Noya snorted in disbelief he had to hear so many nonsense altogether. "So now what? Whose legs am I exactly going to break?"
"At the end they withdrew the report and they apologised to me". Asahi laughed as if everything was a misunderstanding. Amazing, he could not be more stupid. "But…"
"Ah, is there something more?"
"My boss fired me". Asahi's voice broke and Noya froze on the chair. "Well, not right now, I have until the end of the month but then my contract is broken".
Asahi said nothing more but Noya could know all the story without being there. Asahi's boss did not like that he had applied for the job just before his retirement, especially because he wanted his own son to inherit it, so he had used the misunderstanding as an excuse to kick Asahi out.
"Son of the bitch". Noya spited out. Hot poison running through his veins. An intermittent itching in his chest. "He has no right… we are going to the supermarket right now to scream to his face. I'm going to pay, wait for me at the door."
"We are doing nothing". Asahi ordered. And Noya cooled himself down facing his categorical gaze. "I have savings and I can live for four or five months on my own and if the situation gets really bad, my grandma can lend me some money so do not you worry".
"Four months?" Noya freaked out. "And then what, Asahi? If you want, we could ask Ukai for a job, at least for the summer."
"We are not saying anything to anybody, Nishinoya." He insisted without withdrawing the gaze. And Noya could not take his eyes away from it. "I can take care of myself. Don't worry, I'll be fine".
"Ok…" Noya licked his spoon again with no idea how he could help. "You're so good, Asahi. Don't let anybody else trample you, please".
"I won't".
"Promise". He insisted without dropping the subject. "I have to hear you. Say it".
Asahi let escape a half smile and Noya felt weightless inside out.
"I will not let them trample me". Asahi assured opening his hands. "I promise you, Noya."
"And always count on me". Noya added with an inspirational outbreak.
Asahi laughed in such a soft way that had always remembered Noya of an undemanding murmur which caressed the neck before ending with a sincere smile.
"I know I can count on you. You're the best person I've ever known." Asahi touched his arm and Noya said nothing more. Here he goes again. "Thanks for staying by my side. I would not know what to do without you".
Noya had always been weak facing compliments. When Hinata was scrambling around begging—sometimes with tears on the eye—Noya to teach him the Rolling Thunder, a part within him expanded and amplified as if he had turned the volume of his ego up. And Noya acted cool because he was the fucking God of volley—Did you hear, Kageyama? I'm not whichever king, I'm a fucking God. Definitely, there was nobody cooler than him in all Japan.
But when Asahi said I would not know what I to do without you with that deep, soft and unique voice which made him vibrate without moving from the spot, Noya suffered the contrary effect. He became minuscule, illegible, a tiny dust particle incapable of keeping moving without the wind.
"You're the best person I've ever known. I would not know what to do without you". Asahi had said.
Noya laid down on the bed and hugged his legs trying to sleep without success. His hair was wet, he felt the cold of the night on the skin, and he had a million messy thoughts leading to Asahi. Tall, shining and complex like a thousand-piece puzzle. With a heart that was bigger than himself.
Don't walk away from me, Asahi. I am the one who would not know what to do without you.
This is my second try of translating one of my fics. This is going to be way too long, with slow built and slow burn (I don't really understand the difference) but I would appreciate some feedback. I want to improve my English and despite having read this ten times, there are grammar mistakes (I feel it in my soul). So let me know if you spot one of them!
And welcome to Icarus. The only place where you can fly to the sun without having your wings melted.
Duckisses!
KJ*