Author's notes : ah hey i haven't been writing for almost 2 years? I've been abandoning the jeanmarco fic, and I'm sorry. I'll continue it when i feel like I'm in the mood (sounds selfish, I'm sorry). I decided to do a 30 day otp challenge with asanoya (Asahi+Nishinoya from Haikyuu!, I've recently fallen into haikyuu! hell i have no regrets. ok. maybe a little. or a lot. idk.). I might do one for jeanmarco too, but, eh, who knows. Title comes from Namie Amuro's song, Golden Touch (i recommend you to listen to it! It's really good!).

It was Asahi's first time going back into the court, and he was nervous. Very nervous (and Datekou's ace targetting him was a huge contribution to it).

He felt sick, like something had decided to rearrange the insides of his stomach. Maybe i shouldn't have come here, he thought. I'd be useless. His mind kept chanting on how it was a bad idea to rejoin the team, and Asahi tried to control his breathing (when did his breathing became slightly erratic?). He tried imagining something else worse than it; like the time his dog died, the time he didn't pass his English test, the look on Noya's face when he—-

Asahi felt lightheaded, and he didn't realize he walked a little wobbly until he felt Daichi's hand on his back.

"Asahi, calm down, okay?", the captain shot Asahi a reassuring smile. Asahi prompted a firm 'yes' that would convince the captain, but what came out was a whimper of "Uh, um, y-yeah...", accompanied with a nervous smile. Daichi still had this worried look on his face (he definitely knew what was up). Asahi looked away from Daichi's piercing gaze, paying attention to his fidgeting hands instead.

"We got your back. You're not alone in the court, Asahi.", continued the captain, emphasizing his sentence with a firmer grip on the ace's shoulder. Asahi quickly nodded, and Daichi walked over to Suga's side, asking him something about Kageyama and Hinata's quick sets.

Despite Daichi's attempts reassure Asahi, Asahi was still very worried. He chewed on his bottom lip, and looked around him. Coach Ukai was busy talking to Teacher Takeda about some strategies for today's match, with Shimizu hovering next to the two. Kageyama was explaining about types of sets to Hinata (and failing at it horribly, considering the amount of times Hinata yelped and the amount of the word 'dumbass!' came out of the setter's mouth). Tanaka and Noya was busy debating on which flavor of soda was the best (in his heart, Asahi silently agreed with Tanaka that cherry is definitely the best). The others seemed to be doing their own things, so it wouldn't be a problem if he disappeared for a moment, right?

"I need to go to the restroom.", he blurted out meekly, quickly darting to the left hallway towards the restroom. He walked as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion (not that his 'wild' appearance didn't already attract any). When he got to the restroom, he quickly splashed his face with cold water. He looked at the mirror, looked at himself.

Thousands, millions, sickening thoughts of him failing again was swimming around in his head. His legs felt like jelly, he had to hold onto the basin for support. The running water was white noise, he felt like his breathing was getting even worse, the negative thoughts poisoning his mind and sipping through his veins. His heart was racing, blood pumping so loud in his ears. In the midst of his attack, he remembered the breathing technique Coach Ukai had taught him.

"One single long breath in, hold it, then let two out; fast."

Asahi could feel sweat dripping down his forehead, his palms letting out cold sweat. He took a deep breath, looked at himself in the mirror. They have my back., he thought to himself (tried to convinced himself, is probably a better word for it). He held it, but not for long, those thoughts came creeping back from where he tried to buried it deep. His breathing was erratic once more, vision unfocused. He felt the familiar sting on the back of his eyes. He felt like he could combust in any given moment.

"What the hell are you doing?"

It took Asahi a few seconds for his clouded mind to process the sentence, before he could finally being able to place it. Asahi didn't dare to look toward the source of the voice, keeping himself completely still.

"I know you heard me.", continued Nishinoya; a little bit louder, Asahi noticed. Nishinoya walked over next to Asahi, turned off the sink before looking up at him, "Don't be such a crybaby.". Nishinoya jabbed his index finger onto Asahi's stomach, and Asahi yelped. "I'm - I'm not crying!", retorted Asahi quickly, followed by another yelp slipping out from his mouth due to the increased pressure of Nishinoya's fingers.

"Don't lie to me, you always do this.", Nishinoya sighed before putting on his usual grin. Asahi averted his gaze to one of the empty stalls, distracting himself with the thought of who wrote 'Oikawa = d1ck' on one of the doors.

"Hey.", the libero said, shaking Asahi from his reverie. He held both of Asahi's shaky hands. "I'm the libero, so I'd naturally feel bad if someone forgets about me.", he grinned up at Asahi, and goddammit, Nishinoya's grin was infectious. "It's my job anyway, and i gotta look cool doing it! So if any of your spikes doesn't go through, you can always count on me!", the smaller boy rattled on. "Well, there are Daichi and the others, but I'm the man for it!", he cheered on, leaning on his heels before standing up normally again.

Asahi let his lips slide into a small smile, his worries slowly fading away. They didn't completely go away (they never will), but Nishinoya's attitude did a damn good job on distracting him.

"How can anyone forget a dashing man such as me?!", Nishinoya gave a small slap onto Asahi's cheek with one of his hands. Asahi flinched, "Ow!", he rubbed his slightly scarlet cheek, lips forming a small frown. "You hardly even look like one!", he teased Nishinoya. Nishinoya looked absolutely scandalized when he replied, "Tsk, tsk! Dashing, Asahi! That's what's important!".

They stayed there for a few moments, with Nishinoya kept talking about how he was going to improve Rolling Thunder and Asahi listening every words that spills out from the libero's mouth. It did a great job on lifting the weight he had on his shoulders.

"Asahi, your hands are really sweaty.", Nishinoya complained. Nishinoya had been holding Asahi's hands for a while, and during that time Asahi's hands were still sweaty, although he already calmed down. Asahi gasped, cheeks turning pink, and quickly retracting his hands, "S-sorry! I just, uh, didn't, and—-". Just as quickly, Nishinoya snatched them back, effectively silencing Asahi.

When he looked into Asahi's eyes, he had this glint in his eyes that Asahi didn't acknowledge.

"I mean, yeah, it's really sweaty and kinda cold.", said Nishinoya as he rubbed his thumbs over the hard lines of Asahi's knuckles. Asahi felt his hand tensing, the gears of his mind working, trying to think of something as an excuse. "It's really gross.", the libero continued on as he entwined their hands together.

Asahi looked down at their hands. He realized how big his hands looked compared to Nishinoya's. He thought Nishinoya's hands would be soft and delicate, but they're actually slightly hard a bit rough on the edges, after years and years of playing volleyball. Asahi always thought his fingers were long, but next to Nishinoya's, they looked even longer. Nishinoya's hands also felt a little bit warmer, compared to his (probably because he was already cold sweating something that's worth 3 gallons).

"But,", Nishinoya's word shook him out of his chain of 'let's-just-admire-our-libero's-hands' thoughts. "That doesn't mean I'd let go.", the libero looked up at him with his trademark grin. Asahi could've sworn he heard the silent 'you' just before the 'go'. Asahi smiled in return, "Ah, um, thanks. Sorry for the sweaty—-". Before Asahi could finish his sentence, Nishinoya cut him off, "And geez, stop saying sorry for everything you do.". Nishinoya sighed, before tugging Asahi away from the sink towards the restroom's door.

They held hands all the way back to the court, ignoring the weird glances people gave them. Nishinoya was his usual, jumpy, full-of-energy self; dragging the flustered Asahi towards the court. It wasn't until Sugawara approached them, they let go. Nishinoya shouted some encouragement at Asahi that would've been embarrassing, but somehow, he just couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed by it. Although, when Sugawara asked him about it, Asahi's cheeks quickly went pink, blush spreading until the tips of his ears.

During the game, Asahi could still feel the lingering warmness of Nishinoya's hands alongside the weight of the ball when he spiked, and that alone gave him the courage to fight on.

Author's note : fic title is taken from a lyric from Woodkid's song, Brooklyn. IM SO SORRY IT'S SUPER LONG AND IT'S MOSTLY ASAHI CENTRIC WITH A LITTLE BIT OF ASANOYA PEPPERED AT THE END... aahahah anyway, if you have any suggestions for the some of the prompts, feel free to shoot me a message! I'll try to reply ASAP. thank you for reading!