Umi
They're terrible, if terrible means "tries hard and won't give up easily, but really, the situation is optimistic at best". She wears this on her face with a scowl when Honoka shows up late for training the fourth time this month, when Kotori meanders between practicing her digging and indulging their friend with subpar warm-up spikes.
"We're not that bad, you know," Eli notes. She tugs firmly on the string of the net, winding it tightly around the crook of the pole. "We've only been playing together for, what, almost a year?" She smiles good-naturedly, nodding in approval when the net is taut and secured. "Really, we've improved a lot."
There's a shout from Honoka and the muffled thud of a ball behind them. "Ah, sorry, Kotori-chan! I'll go and get it!"
The ball rolls over to Umi's feet, and Honoka runs over to pick it up.
"Sorry, Umi-chan! Eli-senpai!" She flashes them a grin before sprinting back to the other side of the court where Kotori is waiting. Eli watches her go, chuckling softly under her breath.
"We're fine," She lightly bumps Umi on the shoulder. "I wouldn't worry too much."
Umi frowns.
"We could be better."
..
.
Honoka
Sometimes Honoka wonders why she ever chose to join volleyball.
Her muscles are aching so badly and she's probably dying of thirst; her shirt soaked through with sweat clings to her back like a second skin, the gym's poor ventilation doing nothing to help. Honoka frowns, her palms shouldn't be hurting this much. Her arms shouldn't be hurting this much either. Everything hurts and she just wants it to end, really.
"Umi-chan," she whines, heaving herself and rolling on her back. "Why do we have to do this?" She pouts, makes a face, anything to distract herself from the dull ache in her arms. "Why?"
The early summer heat is even more stifling when she isn't moving. The humidity settles around her like an invisible bog, weighing her down with her hair sticking to the back of her neck.
"Honoka, please get up."
Umi doesn't even look like she just did a full set of push-ups. She's tying her hair back neatly, sparing Honoka a glance as she adds, "Ten more to go, Honoka. Come on."
"I thought if you joined a sports club you wouldn't need to do PE anymore," Honoka huffs, tilting her head to the side to look at the clock on the wall. She groans. They're barely halfway through today's training.
"Just because we did the mile run this morning for class doesn't mean that you're exempted from our usual physical training for volleyball," Umi says, her voice stern and unwavering, "Or vice-versa."
"We still haven't touched the ball yet! What's the point of today if we're not even going to play at all?" She stretches out her arms, staring at the ceiling. "I just want to eat some bread, you know?"
Umi sighs. "Honoka…" And it's a tone that she's all too familiar with. A sort of game, complaining about the same things and waiting for Umi's response, replies following the same patterns and nuances that it has become almost a habit of sorts, just to have this conversation at least once a day.
Not literally once a day, Honoka tells herself. As Umi would put it. There's a small sense of pride that only Umi would put up with her like that. Or wouldn't put up with her like that. Honoka isn't sure about the specifics, but it's funny and comforting in a way, if she thinks about it.
She watches Umi take a swig of water from the side, the back of her hand dragging over her lips, before asking, "Do you think Nozomi would be willing to set a few balls for us later?"
The question comes suddenly; she has to think of something to look forward too, otherwise the rest of the day would just be a drag and Honoka doubts that she could bear it any longer. Umi turns to face her, her expression thoughtful.
"I don't know," she says, picking up a nearby ball and rolling it aimlessly between her hands. "Maybe." She smacks the ball down on the ground with an open palm, catching it firmly as it bounces straight back up. "All the more you should hurry and finish your push-ups."
Honoka nearly scoffs but it comes out as a choking noise instead. "Wha—Of course I'm going to!" she protests, hastily sitting back up and wiping her hands on her shirt, her fingernails roughly scratching the faint patches of grey on the fabric left behind by the dirt. They'll definitely come off if she throws them in the washing machine, and Honoka makes a mental note to sneak them into the laundry pile when she gets home before her mother sees.
"It's not like I'm going to give up halfway," she adds, when she catches Umi almost rolling her eyes, "Have a little faith in me, Umi-chan!"
"Fair enough," Umi says, and there is the hint of a faint smile playing along the edge of her lips as she does so. Honoka's grip on her shirt tightens. She takes a deep breath and nods decisively to herself.
"Okay! Let's do this!"
..
.
Kotori
It all happens in a messy tangle of limbs and poor landing.
She remembers jumping to block the ball, arms outstretched as they follow Honoka's palm opposite her over the net. The spike is poorly executed, the ball rolling off and trailing over the edge of the net before tipping over—she's turning around and tripping—her foot wobbles and something cracks, there's a jolt of pain that shoots up her leg till she's on the ground and clutching at her left ankle. It feels empty, hollow, throbbing with an intensity that pulsates throughout, the pain in surges and ebbing away as soon as it comes.
Umi is beside her within seconds.
"Kotori!" Her voice is urgent and sharp, strained and laced with worry. Her brow creases and she gently grabs Kotori's wrist when Kotori moves to tug off her shoe. "No, I'll do it," she says quickly, hands working on untying Kotori's shoelaces, "Just let me see."
Kotori lets her arms fall to her side, biting her lip as she watches Umi brush her fingers against her swollen ankle.
"I-I should, ah, move to the side," she manages out, and Umi blinks, before nodding wordlessly.
"Does it hurt?" Eli asks, kneeling down to check on her, holding her steady as she pushes herself up and leans her weight on Umi's arm, hardened and so much stronger than hers. Honoka bounds over, wringing her hands, trying to see if she can help.
"Not much," Kotori says, and tries not to grimace when she presses down too hard on her left foot. She feels Umi stiffen beside her. "It's okay, honestly!" she adds, probably louder than necessary, but it comes out more feeble than she'd imagine.
"I'll get some ice!" Honoka yells, runs off before Umi can say anything.
.
She returns to training within a week. Honoka pats her on the back and jumps excitedly, "Nozomi's been trying to work out a quick set with me too! Eli says it's to improve our attack, you've got to see me doing it!"
Umi has been trying to dissuade her from turning up for practice the whole day though.
"Don't worry, Umi-chan! I'm fine!" is what Kotori says a smile, waving off her friend as she puts on her shoes. She winces slightly when her foot gets caught in the opening, the shoelaces tied a bit too tight.
"Kotori! Are you okay?" She's worried, fretting, flitting around her, unsure whether to place her hands on Kotori's shoulders or do something, just to make sure that Kotori's okay and nothing's happened. Kotori sees it in her eyes, in the way her fingers reach out and draw back as quickly as she blinks, she wants to grab hold of her and say "Umi-chan, please", because this is nothing, it really is.
"Mm, I'm really fine! Just don't worry about me, okay?" Kotori hopes her tone comes off as reassuring as it sounds. She focuses back on tying the laces. Over under over right. She pinches the looped knots tightly and nearly fumbles when she pretends not to have heard Umi's indignant huff.
"Not when you haven't fully recovered. You shouldn't even have come for training today."
She stands still and unmoving, and Kotori wishes that it could have happened in some other way.
..
.
Hanayo
The gymnasium at Otonokizaka isn't much, but it's enough for Hanayo to feel terrified anyway. She recalls her middle school's gym to be much bigger, much newer, or maybe there's something about being in high school that makes everything so different.
Her heart's probably pounding as they make their way to the side of the gym to observe the club activities. Rin's grip on her hand is firm and comforting, yet it's only a small speck of familiarity, miniscule and insignificant when she's surrounded by high ceilings and the echoing sounds of sneakers on polished wooden floors.
"This is it! This is really it!" Rin bounces on her toes, swinging her arm back and forth. Her eyes are wide in awe and full of excitement, and she's still holding on to Hanayo, still not letting go. "Let's join volleyball together, nya!"
Hanayo smiles, disentangles her fingers from Rin's to adjust her glasses.
"Ah, that sounds great, Rin-chan—" she tells her, and it is, it really is great because Rin is happy and that is good. There's a small burst of warmth in her chest, winding its way up and out as she watches Rin, slightly breathless from jumping up and down on the spot, gasp in amazement at almost every other movement from the volleyball court.
Her eyes follow where Rin is looking. A couple of seniors are there, practicing. She recognises one of them, a third year called Toujou Nozomi. She was the one who cornered them during the first few days of school, the one who shoved a handful of fliers in their faces and coerced Rin into getting the idea of joining this club in the first place. It's not that hard to forget someone like Nozomi, not when you're a mild-mannered first year who just wants to get by high school with your best friend safely, who isn't partial to almost getting groped by an upperclassman you barely know.
There's another girl with Nozomi, tall and blonde and her hair tied up in a high ponytail. She has a ball in her hands, tossing it high up to Nozomi. Rin pokes her from the side. "That's her, that's the spiker Nozomi-senpai was talking about!"
She watches Nozomi raise her arms, poised to set, the ball has yet to reach her but the spiker is off in three graceful steps—she jumps, one arm in front and the other pulled back, Hanayo blinks and it feels like she's missed something because suddenly the ball is in the palm of the spiker and her hand slams down and—
"Kayo-chin! Did you see that!" Rin practically shouts, waving her arms and almost hitting Hanayo in the face. The ball rolls off to a corner of the gym, the girl with the ponytail jogging off to retrieve it.
Hanayo nods. The feeling is back again, a confused jumble of wonderment and intimidation that she can't quite put her finger on. She feels so out of place with her glasses and chubby legs.
"You know, Rin-chan," she starts, unsure of many things but maybe not this. "I-I don't think I can play with you…" She chews her lip, observing, waiting for Rin's response. "Y-you see, I…I'm not very good!"
"What?!" Rin whirls round to face her, their noses so close and almost touching. "Kayo-chin, don't say things like that!" She takes a step back, places her hands firmly on Hanayo's shoulders. "Don't go saying things like that, Kayo-chin!" She repeats, shaking her head, as if that would convince her.
"But—"
"No buts!"
"We just want to join a club together, right?" Hanayo manages to say before Rin could interject. "If we join this one, I-I could be manager! I mean, that position's open here, not like the track club, and we could always ask Toujou-senpai…" She trails off, maybe she's said something wrong? Rin doesn't respond, blinking before breaking into a huge smile.
..
.
Maki
Princess, she hears them hiss behind her back when they know she's listening, Princess Nishikino doesn't think we're worth it anyway.
Middle school is cruel with its petty fickle tendencies, everything shifting and changing as fast as rotations in a big messy uncoordinated whirl. They aren't fast enough, aren't good enough, even if she yells at the spikers to jump higher to surpass the blockers, lays out her tactics during timeouts only to have them thrown away in the chaos that is the match itself, nothing changes and it just feels like she's only ending up further and further away.
Maki can't be bothered with it. She shouldn't be bothered by it, she tells herself. If they aren't even going to play well at all then—
"It's just that Mizuki-chan's more suited for this round," the captain tells her, smiling yet not quite, "Just sit out for the rest, okay?"
She grips the volleyball in her hands even harder, digging her nails into the covering, feeling the pressure inside build up and push against her, threatening to burst. There are many thoughts and she's rapidly sifting through them one by one, the words tumbling through her mind and she's grasping on the ends of it, drowning and trying to make sense of it all. It hurts somewhat, a dull sensation as foreign to her like anything she's never known.
Maki wonders if she's supposed to feel this way.
.
.
She's in her first year of high school now. Otonokizaka isn't where she wanted to end up, their volleyball team isn't even ranked in the prefecture's top ten, but some form of familial piety ingrained in her since young has her here anyway and she loves her parents too much to say no.
"Nishikino-san? I didn't know you play volleyball!"
Maki freezes. It's that girl, the one who likes cats and falls asleep during English class. She barely knows Hoshizora Rin apart from that one time in PE and yet here she stands in front of her, shoe bag dangling from her fingertips and swaying back and forth eagerly. Her friend beside her shifts nervously, fiddling with a clipboard and pen in her hands.
"Hi, um, I'm Koizumi Hanayo, I-I'm the new manager!" she squeaks, fumbling and knocking the blue biro against the hard plastic of the clipboard with a loud clatter. Maki notices that her grip tightens around the edge after a beat.
"I know. We're in the same class."
"Oh! Um…" Hanayo falters, glancing down at the ground. Rin pats her on the shoulder reassuringly.
"I think what Kayo-chin meant was, it's really nice to meet you!" She grins, sticking out her hand, unperturbed. She's forward and friendly and Maki… Maki isn't used to this, this directness of it all.
"Um." She slowly takes Rin's outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you too, I guess," she says, painfully aware of how terse she probably sounds. She lets go of the shake, brushing aside the thought of just how warm Rin's hand is.
Rin sets down her bags at the side, sitting down to tug off her shoes, "In any case, I'm really looking forward to playing volleyball with you!" She beams, continuing, "I wasn't sure if anyone else was going to join, but then Kayo-chin saw your name on the list, and..."
There's a small breeze that blows by. Maki adjusts the strap of her schoolbag, listening to Rin cheerfully babble on under the mid-afternoon sun that creeps its way into the dim shadow under the gym entrance.
"…really great, because I won't be the only first year playing, you know?" She looks up, facing Maki, the stripe of neon yellow on her sport shoes catching and glistening under the sunlight. Hanayo's looking at her too, eyes wide and expectant, a hesitant smile, as if hoping for— something hangs in the air, momentous and inviting, and it doesn't nearly catch Maki off guard as she initially thought it would.
..
.
Rin
Volleyball is really great, Rin thinks. It's only been her second training and never mind that her arms still hurt, red and splotchy all over, but Kayo-chin is in the same club as her and that's what matters. The only other first year on the team is Nishikino Maki, she's standing waysides and watching the second years do their blocking drills, fingers tugging on her hair absentmindedly before noticing Rin staring her way and she quickly averts her gaze.
.
"Nishikino-san, you've played volleyball before, haven't you?" Rin tilts her head to one side, studying her. Maki blinks, her eyes narrow just for a moment before widening, like she's trying to work out what sort of question was asked in the first place.
"Wha—Hoshizora, I don't—" Maki starts, and harrumphs slightly, the flush on her cheeks not going away. "Of course I've played volleyball before," she replies brusquely, then, "Why would you…?"
"I dunno," Rin shrugs, "It's just that you have this… air around you, y'know?" She waves her arms around. "Like… like a really experienced volleyball!"
"…Volleyball?"
Rin nods. "Volleyball!" She reaches down to pull up her knee guards, all brand new and still smelling of fresh polyester. "I'm not sure how to say it," she begins, running a finger under the elastic, tugging till it was comfortable. A loose thread that catches under her nail resists breaking off when she pulls at it. "You always look so serious during practice, sometimes even more so than Umi-senpai, and that's really something, nya."
.
"It's not that I'm very serious about training," Maki tells her later during their water break. She flicks the cap of her bottle shut, frowning as several drops of water scatter off onto her and the floor. "I just want us to be able to play well, that's all."
..
.
She eventually gets Hanayo to practise with her sometimes, on those days when they don't have training after school. She's managed to borrow a ball from Nozomi; a rather old one with the whites ten shades darker than they should be, the owner's name scribbled in black marker already scratched and faded off. They don't do much, just about the basics really, digging the ball to each other and themselves, but they're certainly getting better, Rin notes—especially Kayo-chin, of course, probably even more so than her—and it's an amazing feeling when the ball doesn't go all over the place as it used to, when her arms are no longer left with red marks and semi-bruises by the end of the day.
.
.
"Your friend, Koizumi-san."
"You mean Kayo-chi—Hanayo?"
"Yeah," Maki says. "I saw the two of you practicing outside the other day, her receives are pretty solid."
A half-expected question rests on the conversation, and Rin fiddles with the towel in her hands. "I tried to get her to join with me," she explains, "Kayo-chin's just a bit unsure about herself with this sort of thing."
"She could join us."
But Maki seems to realise that perhaps she's said that a bit too quickly, her face turning a slight shade of pink in addition to the hair twirled around her fingers, and whatever cool demeanour that she's been trying to put up crumbles away (because Nishikino Maki is, as Rin discovers, not some Ice Princess but more of an awkward mess of a girl who sometimes tries too hard to be Cool and mature despite it not working out as well as she thinks it does).
It's sort of cute, really.
.
.
At some point (maybe by the third week) she tells Maki:
"You don't have to be so formal, just Rin will do!"
Also because 'Hoshizora'can be a tad too long to call out on court all the time, you know?
"You can call me Hanayo, too, if you like," Kayo-chin adds, smiling bashfully. It's her first training with them, and it's a wonder how quickly she grasps the flow of the game, her ball sense almost parallel to Nozomi's. Rin gets a funny warm feeling in her stomach if she thinks about it, all knotting and twisting but not uncomfortable in any sort of way.
.
"Well, w-we're teammates now, right? You can call me by my first name too, I guess."
"Maki-chan!" And she tries it out, feeling herself break into a grin because it fits, as if Maki-chan has never been anything else but Maki-chan to the both of them.
.
..
Her first match, her first real volleyball match, is against one of the schools in the district. They're not up to any sort of high standard, Rin figures, "—ranked somewhere around our level," she heard Hanayo say, and idly she thinks of how hard they've been practicing lately, or was it how much they've improved, because she's been working on her spikes since last week and even Eli had commented on how fast her jumps and swings are. She wonders if she'd be able to pull it off during the match itself. Or at least get a service ace. It's not like they're facing some school like UTX or anything, but still.
Maki lightly chops her on the head.
"It's only a practice match. Don't get yourself too overexcited."
But of course she's looking forward to it too, as is everyone; and they manage to win a couple of games that day, 25-19 twice in a row.
..
.
Nozomi
"I'm sorry," Maki says. She's got her hair untied and knee guards pulled down, fidgeting on the spot as she picks at the label on her water bottle. "I could have moved faster, at least tried to rescue that last ball sooner—"
She stops, her jaw tightens. There's a pause that hangs in the air, the passing seconds marked by distant thuds and shouts and the blows of a whistle.
"It's alright," Nozomi says slowly, balancing her words. She wonders what she should say to this girl, so poised and confident, who had confronted her with such a determined "Please teach me how to set like you" barely in on her first week of training, the "you really are troublesome" sitting on the tip of her tongue, instead she goes for:
"We all played our best, and that's what matters."
"But—" The first year looks stumped. Confused? "It was your last game. With us. With Otonokizaka." She furrows her eyebrows. "Shouldn't you—"
Nozomi laughs, if anything to lighten the mood. She's the vice-captain, she has to put on a front, but maybe Nishikino Maki is too serious and maybe her own laugh sounds too hollow to mean anything other than a few standard cheer-up phrases that come out her mouth as easily as a mantra that she has repeated to herself for the past three years.
"I don't mind that we lost," she says, partly to convince herself. "Really, I don't."
She glances down at her hands, the tips of her thumbs and forefingers just barely touching. It was expected, Nozomi thinks. Of course they wouldn't make it to the finals; it was a miracle in itself that they managed to make it past the third round at all. Somewhere along the line there was a tiny gleam of hope, a blind optimism in the off-chance that they could have won, cemented in ties of Friendship and Teamwork and pumped-up cries of "do your best!"
"Anyway," she continues, looking up and directly at Maki. Her junior flinches, if only slightly.
"It was a good game, though."
She doesn't think of missed tosses and poor receives, everything melding together into a messy recollection marked by three-touched whistle blows and unscraped knees.
Somehow it doesn't feel that bad anymore.
.
.
Admittedly she's too used Eli's jumps, or maybe Honoka's pacing. Even the middle blockers have a shared consistency that's easy to adapt to (she's seen Umi and Kotori staying behind together after practice, training to time their jumps correctly), but the first years… they're different, Nozomi notes amusedly. Between Rin's eclectic speed and Maki's professional accuracy, at least Hanayo's movements are at a constant, delivering sturdy receives that effortlessly get the ball back to the setter.
She knows she has to improve; it's her job to bring out the best in each and every one of her teammates. The Inter-high preliminaries start in a few weeks' time—Nico's even started giving her pep talks—and what sort of setter would she be if she can't even get a toss to any of them during a match right? They can't keep on relying on luck or the same old strategies, and she thinks that perhaps this is the strongest Otonokizaka, the nine of them, together, has ever been.
It's funny, actually, having a determination to do more than win.
(Maybe it's because she has never played for a team that has felt this complete before.)
.
.
"What clubs are you planning on joining, Ayase-san?"
The question is asked sometime during lunch break, in one of those brief moments before the bell rings when Ayase Eli's back isn't turned to face her. Nozomi treasures these moments as much as she can, and not just because Ayase Eli has a pretty face to look at.
"I don't know yet. I was thinking, maybe the student council?" She sets her chopsticks down, wiping them clean. "What about you?"
"Volleyball," Nozomi says with ease. Her lunch sits there in front of her, half-eaten with the meat all gone and vegetables pushed aside. Not that her parents do check in on her for matters that small, but it just feels right, having lunched fully packed for school.
"I didn't think you'd be choosing a sport like volleyball, Toujou-san," Eli says, "You don't look like y—" She stops. Nozomi watches Eli closely, her lips twitching upwards as Eli's eyes widen.
"Not that I meant to imply!" Eli waves her hand in an attempt of correcting herself. "I mean," she says, the tips of her ears turning pink, "…Why?"
"I… played a little in middle school," Nozomi explains. Her throat tightens. "But you know, um, things happened and—" She pauses, shrugs, concentrates on closing the lid on her lunchbox instead. Eli doesn't prod or question, and Nozomi is very much aware that she had given a rather similar reply to a similar question.
"Anyway, it's pretty fun," she adds with a grin. The tension eases and relaxes itself, dissipating as if it was never there. "You could try joining with me."
"Maybe I'll try it out too," Eli says, "Maybe." She lets out a small laugh, nervous and soft. Nozomi thinks it's the most wonderful sound she's ever heard.
"Why not?" Nozomi asks, perhaps a little too quickly. She tries again.
"Play volleyball with me," she says, and tries her best to keep the excitement in her voice level as Eli nods.
..
.
Nico
Nico is fast, but not fast enough.
Kira Tsubasa's set to her spiker is quick and efficient; Otonokizaka hardly has time to react before the spiker's hand slams down hard on the ball, sending it hurtling forward, the reds whites and greens blurring together as it spins rapidly down—it's coming, she thinks—shooting past Umi's block, past Rin's shoulders—standing way too much in front—till somebody's calling her name and she's yelling, turning and darting forward, diving—
The ball meets the ground before she does.
The referee blows the whistle.
Nico grits her teeth. She doesn't even want to look at the score.
..
"Yazawa Nico! The universe's number one libero!" She thumps her chest proudly, surveying her audience. The two first years look on, captivated by their obviously wonderful and inspirational senior.
"Or," she begins, lacing her words with as much stately air as she can muster, "Yazawa-senpai, well actually Nico-senpai," she says, stressing on the honorific. Someone's got to make a good impression on these kids after all. Because it's important, that's what it is.
"Okay, Nico-senpai!" The smaller girl chirps. Her mousy friend beside her nods furiously.
Nico smirks. She has never felt this powerful. It's amazing.
Someone takes this moment to walk into her from behind.
"Nicocchi, please." A pair of hands find their way to Nico's waist. Nico yelps, arms flailing as she tries to wriggle her way out of Nozomi's grip.
"What the f-Get away from me you ti—"
"Ah, please don't swear in front of our dear underclassmen, Nico-cchi!" Nozomi sings this against her neck, snuggling Nico, her hands slowly edging upwards and—
"G-geh, don't you dare!" Nico growls, pushing down on Nozomi's wrists, prying them away, but what can she do when she's only 154 cm of righteous fury, certainly no match for Nozomi's large-busted spiritual powers. Already, it's a lost cause.
Nozomi cackles, cackles, the nerve of her, embarrassing the great Nico-nii in front of their underclassmen, but she hears Hanayo asking worriedly if Nico-senpai was going to be okay, and in between struggling and cursing under her breath, she thinks of treating them to ice cream later.
..
.
She's not the tallest, that itself is a given, nor can she jump the highest, but she doesn't need that to play volleyball. As long as the ball doesn't touch the ground, as long as she was good enough. But Nico wants to do more than mediocrity; she's seen recordings on television, been to matches herself, nothing stands out more than the player wearing the odd-colour jersey on court, moving like lightning yet grounded and sturdy throughout.
Sure, spikers are "undeniably cool", but it's at the amazing receives that the crowd cheers the loudest—when a missed ball gets saved only a few centimetres off the ground, when the player dives for nigh-impossible balls and still managing to keep it in the air, the roars and cheers from the bleachers strumming in her veins.
They praise her for her quick footing and fast reactions, the energy that she brings with her to the team. She's the libero for a reason, and she feels special, she really does, that her jersey is white over red rather than the other way round, that they're depending on her to keep everything connected, because it's her job.
.
"Of course I'm upset!" she snaps, hisses through her teeth. "Aren't you?"
Maki shrugs.
"I'm just saying," she says, and hums noncommittally. She's looking away, not meeting her eyes, the stoic air wearing thin by the second. Nico clenches her fists, her fingernails barely digging into her palms. They don't move for a bit, and Eli tells everyone that the bus would only be arriving in a few minutes' time.
There's a sort of clarity that comes after the match, if only for a moment. Everything flashes like a reel, every single mistake made even more glaring by the next, there's a choking feeling welling up at the back of her throat—she swallows and breathes—letting it rush up and through her till the tips of her fingers and toes.
"I-I get it," Maki starts, her voice cracking and raw beneath a forced particularity, "That you're upset. We all are." She stops. Looks up to face her, her eyes glistening and tinged red in the corners. Nico eases slightly, lets her shoulders drop.
"Just stop beating yourself up about it, Nico-chan, because it was your fault just as much as it is mine and everyone else's on the team."
..
.
Eli
She becomes captain of the volleyball team near the end of her second year.
"You'll do great," Nico tells her in a gruff voice, "Everyone thinks you're the best suited for the role." She's trying her best to sound as nonchalant as she can, but really, it comes off more like a proud parent when it should be the other way round? Eli means this in the best way possible.
"I'm sure Elicchi will be amazing~" Nozomi says, pressing her shoulder against hers, wearing a lazy smile on her face. Her arm hooks around Eli's, pulling her up from where she's sitting on the club room floor. "Come on," she says, and there's a teasing lilt to her voice as she addresses the rest, "Captain Ayase Eli will now make her inaugural speech!"
There's only the six of them, but Nico hoots and yells a cheer, Honoka and Kotori chant her name supportively from where they sit, only a mere metre or so away, while Umi applauds politely, a playful smile on her face. Nozomi stands behind her, laughing and clapping as well, and places a hand on her shoulder, pushing her slightly forward.
"Don't worry about it," she adds in a whisper, her fingers brushing Eli's wrist. "As your vice-captain," and she says it like a special phrase, lingering on those words for a beat, and Eli positively shudders when Nozomi's breath tickles her ear, "I'll always be supporting you, no matter what."
..
.
Their last match lasted longer than what anyone had expected, a long-drawn out game of catch-up fuelled by sheer determination alone, clichéd as it is (that, or a guard let down by the other school). UTX is a powerhouse, delivering everything with impact and punch and leaving barely any mistakes, nothing like their own ragtag scrambles and attempts at matching up to the top-ranking school in the prefecture. It certainly is intimidating, but they've managed to make it this far, they can't give up now. Not yet.
"Don't mind, don't mind!" She calls out, her voice scarcely drowned out by the bellowed cheers of UTX and their supporters, "We'll get the next one!"
But optimism doesn't hold when their skill is lacking, no matter how much they try it's undeniable that they simply aren't good enough— it's not defeatist, she tells herself, it's being practical, realistic—
"We just have to fight on! The match isn't over yet! We've only just started on the second set, so let's give our all and play our best, okay?"
Honoka's voice rings through loud and clear, amid the thunderous stomps and claps, her grin infectious as it is as they huddle in for one last cheer before the next point starts; they're having fun, Eli realises, all of them, together, and this really is her last match so it's only right to do it justice and really just play her best and give it her all.
.
They're not going to win, but they'll do just fine.
.
..
.
"Eli-cchi."
It's one of their last few trainings together, before autumn sets in full swing and club activities are over in lieu of exams. The club room is empty, save for the two of them; the walls covered with posters of smiling idols and drawings of fluffy alpacas a mismatch against the shelves of old trophies, forgotten and rusty and nothing younger than twenty. The brooms and dustpan lie in a corner, obscured by everyone else's belongings left behind—duffel bags and gym shoes and volleyballs borrowed from the store in a semi-organised clutter piled up and around each other.
Nozomi leans her back against her.
"We're graduating soon," she says. Eli can't see her face, feels the rise and fall of her steady breathing lightly pressing on her back.
"Hm."
She tries to breathe in time with Nozomi, each breath scarcely breaking the still silence that surrounds them. Sunlight streams through the half-lidded windows, casting slight fragmented silhouettes of dangling leaves on the floor. A breeze blows through the cracks, the air a mixture of cupboard dust and fall's early chill. It takes some time before Eli registers Nozomi's words. She blinks.
"Just what are you saying, Nozomi?" She sits up straight, inspects the off-coloured stain on the linoleum floor, lightly scratching it with the edge of her thumb. "We've still got months left."
"Mm, but still," Nozomi says, and lets out a sigh as she stretches. "You never know." Her voice sounds hazy, distant against the quiet rumble of traffic from outside, as if they were miles away from Otonokizaka, away from the messy mundanities of life as they know it. Eli instinctively reaches behind her; their hands automatically finding each other, fingers interlacing. It's warm.
"I just want to keep on playing volleyball with you, you know?" she says earnestly, albeit bashfully, her voice lowered down to just above a whisper, "I just want to keep on being able to set the ball to you."
"Then I want to keep on being able to spike the balls that you set to me."
Her breath hitches. Nozomi is facing her now, shifting closer. She leans forward, pressing their foreheads together.
"Yeah."
Nozomi smiles, raises a hand to touch Eli's cheek. Eli closes her eyes, and there is the faintest brush of their lips; the moment is brief yet seems to last forever, a feather-light touch on edges that send a series of ripples and sparks throughout, till Nozomi pulls away and both let out a breath she didn't know was held.
"N-Nozomi," she manages out, her heart hammering in a one-two pulse, fingers still curled around the other girl's hand. Their eyes meet, wide and hesitant, and Eli finds herself blurting out, "Can I kiss you?"
Nozomi laughs, tugging Eli closer and rests her wrists on her shoulders. "Eli-cchi," she mock-pouts, "Didn't we already just—?" She pauses, waggles her eyebrows.
"You know what I mean," Eli mumbles, feeling a flush steadily creep onto her cheeks. As if it has only finally caught up to her, the kiss-but-not-quite burning like raindrops on her lips. A giggle escapes from Nozomi, amused yet affectionate, the kind that just happens when they're alone, the kind that toes the line between the 'like you's and 'maybe love you's that dance around when she breathes her name, the Eli-cchi tickling the back of her throat if she tries, and Nozomi is just as nervous she is, even if she's trying to disguise it, all shaky hands and steady breaths.
So she kisses her, presses her lips against Nozomi's, feels her arms wrap around her shoulders, and in that moment it feels more than just right.
.
.
.
"—Rin, stop pushing—"
"I want to see what's going on—"
"We should just leave them alone, you know."
.
.
(They don't break apart, even at the muffled scuffle at the door.)
..
.
Umi
It comes as no surprise that Honoka is appointed as the next captain when the third years step down.
.
"Well, not really," Eli says, "We've decided that we'll stay. For the Spring Interhighs." She doesn't blink when she sees Nozomi edging closer to her side, her hand lingering near Eli's.
"Don't you have your exams to prepare for?" She asks, feeling a hint of concern edge into her voice, "You can't possibly—"
"We'll be fine," Nozomi interjects, "You don't have to worry about anything."
Umi's protest falters in her throat, it's not something that they should be prioritising over others, she wants to say, just let her, Honoka and Kotori deal with it, but she knows it really isn't her call to make.
Still.
"Nothing's going to change, we'll still be playing together, the nine of us."
She can't help but feel something over the fact that they won't be leaving.
Umi finds herself nodding, and smiles.
.
"It's our last chance, after all."
/
.
a/n:
((basically ive been sitting on a volleyball au for ages. im a sucker for love live sports aus.))
positions if u r curious!
open spikers: eli, honk, rin
middle blockers: koto, umi, hanayo (who's pinch server for koto, later becomes subset)
subset: maki (becomes setter after 3rd yrs graduate), pana
setter: nozom
libero: nico