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HELLO! I am animeflufflife, if you do not know; pleasure to meet you. You are reading the first paragraph of my sequel fanfic, Flight. If this is your first time 'round these 'ere parts, you might want to check out the first fanfic, Surrounded, to understand the personal story/life of my OC, Kageyama Mei. If you already read it, then GREAT! You're at the right spot! This story will follow the basic plot line of Haikyuu Season 3, so I'll try to update every week (but school exists so I might be bad at keeping to my schedule...bUT ILL TRY!)

Anyways, without further ado, let's get on with the first chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Haikyuu or its characters or its plot line. I simply own my character and her story.

? POV:

Every muscle of my body tenses. Every hair rises as goosebumps scale up my arms like on a winter's night. Snow breezes around me, fingers of wind dancing in the air on its tiptoes and thrashing it about in whirlwinds. But there's only one goal ahead of me, invisible but present.

All that stands between me and that goal is a mountain.

It's cold, yet the sun blazes upon me and shimmers on the very tip of the peak, which glints in a similar manner a perfectly-sharpened pencil does under a light source. Its ridges are cut sharp, incorrigible scars that mar the skin that is the surface of the mountain. Touch its edge and it'll indubitably summon blood. Unsteady sedimentary rocks balance upon each other against all sides of the mountain, each its adjacent neighbor's cornerstone.

"Impossible," breathes a voice, not unfamiliar.

"I wonder what's on the other side."

I realize it's my voice.

But images start to appear in my peripheral vision. There's the towering figure that is Tsukishima. A crop of long brown hair reminds me of Asahi. And at my right hand side is Kageyama.

"Impossible," he repeats.

I want to reply, but my words come out as dry air. What?

"SHOYO, I SWEAR ON YOUR DAMN VOLLEYBALL CAREER-"

The vision instantly blurs into wisps of the mountain and Kageyama, replaced by the exhausted face of Mei and her unblinking, black-circled, blue eyes.

"Finally," she breathes, all huffy. "You play volleyball till you pass out or something?"

I sit up, confused. I'm on the gym floor, which is empty besides us. "What am I doing here?"

"Like I have a clue," Mei instantly says. She flashes a half-hearted apologetic expression for her sharp remark and returns to her usual stern demeanor. "Ukai ain't gonna be happy when he hears you've been wearing yourself out before a huge game. You do realize this is a five-set match, right?"

I widen my eyes. "I get to play five sets again Ushijima?!"

"Not if you screw up the first three," she says, not a trace of sympathy in her tone. Straight-forward as always. "You'd better get your butt outside, by the way. Everyone should be arriving in less than 10. Help me pack up our shit so we can hit the road stat."

"Bossy," I hiss under my breath as I start collecting volleyballs from the ground.

"Heard that!"

It doesn't take long for the two of us to silently clear out the gym. With a deft flick of her wrist, Mei locks the door to the storage room. What we have to lug to outside to where the bus is lies at our feet.

"Can I ask you a question, Mei?"

Her eyes coolly flicker over to me, surprised. "I'm listening."

"In all honesty, what are our chances of winning against Shiratorizawa?"

Instantly, her expression hardens and regret surfaces in my heart as her collected demeanor cracks. "You've done and said a lot of stupid crap, Shoyo. But that might've been the stupidest of them all," she spits, an unrecognizable emotion lacing her words.

"...why?" I blurt out. Keep your mouth shut!

"I don't answer stupid questions. Grab the stuff and move your tiny ass." She has already regained her control, her hair swooped into a no-nonsense-looking bun and her jaw hard. She's definitely not in the mood to mess around with.

I hastily grab the stuff we need and follow her out of the gym. Forget Mei; I need to focus on what's ahead of me and how I'm going to overcome it.

OOO

MEI POV:

If you seriously want my opinion, no one is mentally prepared to challenge Shiratorizawa. I remember returning to Japan for a brief trip two years ago and attending a Seijoh-Shiratorizawa match. If there was one word to describe their volleyball team, it's "brutal". Mercy isn't in their dictionary.

I think the number one thing that irks me most about them is their reliance on Ushijima (more infamously known as Ushiwaka as a combination of his last and first name). Their team is undoubtedly beyond average in skill and precision, but Ushijima is their core. Break him, and it gets way easier from there. He's their strength and their weakness.

The simple thought of him makes my knees shake and my palms get clammy.

"Mei!"

"Way to get here on time. Tell me you brought my bento."

Tobio takes the seat behind me, setting his sports bag from two Christmases ago onto the floor of the vacant bus. "I would but then I'd be lying. Forgot mine too, if it's any comfort."

"You're such an idiot," I hiss, but with little serious malice in my tone.

There's a brief silence before Tobio starts the discussion I already knew was coming. "What's the real game plan? I know Ukai's going to be all generic and pep talk so give it to me before anyone arrives. What are our chances of winning this for real?"

I groan before I can catch myself. "You can't be serious. Shoyo asked me that just a while ago."

"I am serious. If anyone knows how this will play out, it's you. You're pretty much psychic when it comes to the outcome of a match." He smirks and slight dimples form on both sides of his angular face. "Remember that one time we were about 7 and were watching the alumni versus varsity game when Gramps was still Karasuno's coach? You were hell-bent on the team's victory when everyone else doubted they could take the alumni. And that to the alumni's inability to take even one set off them."

"Thanks for the flattering memory. But today's different...frankly, I'm running straight into a battle of unknowns."

Pure shock crosses his face but it instantly dims down to a slightly interested flicker. "That's new. Better not tell that to Hinata or he'll throw up on the ride there," jokes Tobio.

"May not need to," I mutter with a nod at the approaching boy. His skinny limbs are shaking, like a fragile baby fawn trying to walk for the first time in its life.

"Do you think he'll be there?"

I look at my hands, folded in my lap. I don't need to ask who he's talking about. "Maybe. What difference will it make?"

"Don't screw with me, Mei."

"This isn't about him or how you or I feel. It's about you and me winning this thing. Get that through your head."

"You've made yourself quite clear," he spits back. But I can tell there's plenty more eating at his brain.

"You scared?" I ask him.

"I've never been scared."

"Mom let you leave the house spouting lies like that?"

"Very funny."

"Thanks. Now answer the question, dumbass. You seem to doubt our victory, and doubt is born from fear."

"No! I'm not scared," he sighs. "I'm confident in my skills and the rest of the team is reliable. But I'm saying we may not win."

I pat his shoulder. Just touching him reminds me of all the games I've ever attended of his. Unimaginable strength, flawless talent, inimitable precision-he had it all and it scored him victory after victory. Not a single loss, at least when it mattered. "Guess what, little brother? Today might be the day you lift your fork and taste defeat."

He's silent for a long period of time, my hand on his shoulder, his gaze set in front of him. "Are you trying to scare me? Because I see little purpose in that."

"Wisdom comes from experience. Experience comes from lack of wisdom." I smirk. "Terry Pratchett."

Before he can answer, Tanaka-senpai jumps into the bus with a war cry, spinning his gym bag in the air like a cowboy's lasso. "Yahoo! We're going to smash these damn finals and beat the hell outta Ushijima and his Shiratorizawa followers!" he shouts at the top of his lungs.

"Seems like someone drank his coffee this morning," mumbles a sleep-deprived Ukai as he stumbles into into the bus, clipboard in hand. "Woke up the entire damn neighborhood."

"Wouldn't get too cocky if I were you," Tsukki comments. He slides into a seat, followed by Yamaguchi. "You always miss when you're arrogant."

"Say that again?!" threatens the passionate 2nd year.

"Real chatty this early morning, aren't we?" Suga enters the bus with a small smile on his face and the other third-years trail behind me, only partially awake.

I clap for attention after mentally doing a head count. Takeda-sensei and the managers will be coming later by car. So I move up to the front for everyone to see me and shout, "Alright, shut up, you lot! I ain't dealing out motivational speeches when we get there because that'll just screw with your head and that's the last thing you need on an important game day. So I'm giving my advice now, and I can promise you it'll be better than the generic crap Ukai spits at you (just kidding, not really): hustle hard till you win. Done! Get a move on, bus driver; we're heading for the finals, boys!"

OOO

"My advice is NOT generic," Ukai says as the guys warm-up.

I scoff, "Beg to differ."

"Those are fighting words, Mei."

"To get through to people, you just gotta smack 'em sometimes," I tell him. "Hit them hard enough and they might actually listen."

"You're not an ancient times Japanese mother who's trying to deal with her twelve sons who always misbehave. I agree that being direct is important but you have to remain calm so that they don't panic either."

Ukai's philosophy of coaching is simplistic: tell them in a motherly manner what needs to be done and let the chips fall where they may. But I think you need to drive them to ensure victory. That's just how I was raised as a volleyball player, and that's how I'm going to teach volleyball players.

"This better not get in the way of the game...our differences," Ukai says. "I can handle this one, Mei."

I raise a doubtful brow and fully turn to him. "You sure about that?"

"Yes, Mei. I'm the head physical coach; what I say goes. Just trust me," he assure me, a little forcefully for my taste.

"You two, it's okay!" Takeda-sensei butts into our conversation (what's new). "I'm sure we can work something out for the two of you-"

"Not a chance," I interrupt. I know I'm being a little unreasonable but I really think I can handle being the main coach for the finals. Ukai needs to stop just standing there and actually get his hands dirty for once, and if he doesn't, I will.

"But-"

Takeda-sensei doesn't bother finish his sentences. Because the level of cheering on Shiratorizawa's side has quadrupled to ear-blowing loud. And that can only mean one thing.

The main doors of the gym rip open, its banging noises drowned by the drone of cheering and band-playing. The players step onto the floors, wearing their marching purple uniforms and hardened, superior expressions. They are the living examples of an elite volleyball team. And of course, in the very center of their squad, treads their leader and general, Ushijima, battle-ready.

"Flashy as always," I mumble. Just wait till you see them play though.

OKAY I get it. That was kind of a sucky ending but I felt like it was getting lengthy. ANYWAYS that's the end; thanks for reading chapter 1. See you next week!

much love, animeflufflife xx