Chapter Two: To Be Me: That is the Question
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
-Hamlet, Act III, Scene I
The phone rang and rang and I had just about enough of it. Seriously, it is six in the morning and I know Doctor Suoh is scared I overdosed or killed myself but couldn't it wait until seven? I mean if I was already dead I wouldn't answer and I would never get up early just to kill myself! Just wait and I'll answer at seven. But as the phone beeped with a new voicemail I called Doctor Suoh myself. I didn't have the heart to leave him questioning if I was okay for another hour. The man was probably crying.
"Katrina! Katrina, are you okay?"
The voice on the other end of the line was hysterical and I waited for him to stop his repeating questions—most of which I didn't hear over the static filled connection. He started wailing and I pulled the phone back from my ear. After a minute he finally wore himself out. When there was silence and only the breathing of the young Doctor on the other side, I put the phone back to my ear.
"Doc, you know I'm fine. Who else would be calling you?" I groan into the phone, lifting myself from the bed. I get up and open the curtains to find daylight. Grabbing my towel, I head to the bathroom while the other side of the line is silent. He's probably checking some other patient.
"Well," the man says suddenly, the hysteria passed. "How was your first day of school?"
"It was school," I say blandly, not really wanting to talk about volleyball with the Doc.
"Any cute boys?"
He asks the question with childish interest and then giggles like a schoolboy. I roll my eyes as I start the shower with hot water. I put him on speaker and get in, not ending the call while I shower being one of my constraints of living by myself. The shower was probably the most dangerous place for me. Doctor Suoh always wants to make sure I'm not cutting myself in the calming water.
"You're a child," I says as I let the water hit my back.
"A child with a doctorate," he retorts and then adds, "So, do you like any of them?"
"Not really," I say blandly to the man and he groans with my teasing tone.
"You aren't going to tell me are you?"
"I don't have anything to tell."
"Alright," he huffs and then I can hear the sounds of another person with him. Yep he's with another patient. "You see the gym?"
"Yah," I murmur and I can tell he only hears silence.
I place my face under the spray of the shower head and try not to look at my arms. My showers are always like this. I either have to fight myself not to think of the voices or I have to fight myself not to guilt myself into looking at my scars. Both are terrible things and I struggle with washing my long hair. The brown locks go to my mid-back and the only good thing about them is that my hair is so thin that it's not heavy. I can hear Doctor Suoh talking to someone on the other side of the line and know that he is struggling with whoever he's talking to.
"You have a therapy session every Thursday morning for the duration of your absence from the clinic," Doctor Suoh mentions to me as I turn off the water.
My showers are always short; the voices coming back to the surface. I can hear them. Someone is watching me. Someone can hear me when I think about the bad things that I've done. If I don't hurry and toss my pills down the toilet, they will find me. They are watching. No, I push back mentally. Focus on the doctor, you need to take your pills.
"What time? Do I get to miss school?" I ask with a hopeful tone, pushing down the remnants of the voices. It wasn't that I didn't like school but was more that I didn't like getting up early. Mornings were the worst. The voices were always their most powerful after the long time that I slept and the shower never really helping.
"No, you aren't allowed to miss school," Doctor Suoh reprimands with his adult tone. "The appointment is at six thirty and it's in Sendai. The other therapists didn't want to take you. So you'll have to miss the first period but I already spoke to your teachers. But you still have to go. "
Great. Not even the people who were supposed to be used to dealing with freaks wanted me. Now I have to go to the capital just so I can still stay on my own. Maybe Doctor Suoh was doing this on purpose for me to get fed up and come back to the clinic. He seems like the type to think about this. That or it was parents because they want me to move into the house they bought in the next town over, wanting to monitor my every move. If I want to keep my freedom, I'm going to have to take the train and hope for the best.
"How long will it take for me to get there?" I ask as I wrap my hair in a towel, proceeding to go to my bedroom.
"An hour and a half by train," he replies and I can almost hear the smirk in his voice. He thinks he's winning. In reality, he's not.
"Alright when you come, leave me the address and the train pass. I'm assuming you're going to get me a pass," I retort with an annoyed voice. The man 'tsks' and I know that getting a pass is going to be a hassle for him. He doesn't like public transportation very much.
"Fine. Leave all of your razors in the kitchen, you should have three," he instructs with a peeved voice. "Or I can just move into the spare bedroom and make everything simpler."
"Ha, ha, ha," I say in a monotone voice. "No thank you. Don't want to take you away from your work."
There is silence on the line as I grab the razors that were just in the bathroom and put them on the kitchen table. My apartment is too spacious for one person but I like it because it was on the ground floor and was close enough to ride my bike to school. The second bedroom was really a point that Doctor Suoh wanted in order to remind me that he does have the power to move someone in if I mess up. I go back to my bedroom and hurry to dress. Doctor Suoh is silent for a long time and I actually have to check if he's still on the line.
"Take your medication," comes Doctor Suoh's cold voice.
I flinch with the tone and am reminded that the man isn't some goofy person who just so happens to watch me. He is my doctor and I am his patient. And the trial that he has me in is very important. This drug could lead Doctor Suoh into a legendary path and the medication could help countless schizophrenics like me. I can't mess this up.
"I will," I reply and the phone cuts off.
I sigh and throw myself onto the bed. Sometimes I wonder if Doctor Suoh has multiple personalities but then I remember that he has been trained to work with mentally ill patients and realize that his demeanor is only because he wants us to trust him. I do trust him but at the same time, I know what is right for me. I need to live alone and I need to hear the silence.
I fall back asleep and am woken by my alarm twenty minutes later. I dress completely, once again putting my tie too tight but getting frustrated with how it's crooked. My tights don't have any tears in them yet and I am suddenly happy with the small thought of perfect tights. I put some black converse on—I got made fun of wearing vans at home one time, after wearing them in Switzerland—and pack my black flats in my bag. Looking at my arms as I roll up my long sleeves and decide to wrap them. Who knows if Takeda-sensei is going to come after me, but I suppose it's better to be safe than sorry.
My arms were littered with scars from my wrist to my elbow. Most of them were on the inner arm though I did have two deeper ones on the top of my left arm. The suicide cuts stare back at me with white raised skin and a hint of pink along my vein. My arms are trembling and I know I'm scared as I continue to inspect the skin. I shouldn't be looking at them. I need to stop. Grab the bandages and you'll stop, my inner voice instructs and I nod dumbly to myself.
Grabbing a roll of gauze and paper tape I begin to wrap my arms. I breathe in and out slowly as my arms are covered in white. If I'm going to play volleyball I'm going to have to get support braces to hide the scars. I can't have ace bandages because they're too bulky and I can't have paper tape all the time. Nurse Ito will probably have something for me. That's if I play volleyball. I know the girl's team won't allow me and I have fear that in a game they'll ask me to remove my armor. I can't play, maybe teach but can't play.
But I want to play volleyball. I need to feel the slap of the ball when I serve. I need to feel the ball hitting my forearms and lifting into the air. I need to feel the air rushing through my body because I am so fast that the wind travels through me. I want to feel it again. So, I guess I'll see what happens.
Grabbing my satchel bag, I make my way to the kitchen. Eating a toast very fast, I take my first pills of the morning. Grabbing the bento I had made last night, I put it in my bag. Walking out the door, I find my bike and I lock up, my hand staying on the knob for a second too long. What if the people who let me play volleyball look at me with the same disgust? What if the voices come back in full force and yell at me with them? What if I get hurt again?
I'm scared. But what if the feeling of playing makes me better and I won't have to be scared anymore? What if these people are different? I have to try don't I? If I never try how will I ever know if I can be happy again. Because I can fool myself that I am happy right now but without that feeling, I know I'm just lying to myself. The happiness has to be worth the risk. Right?
Right, my inner voice confirms.
I would say the school day went well except for the fact that the idiot in front of me kept staring at me whenever he could. It was seriously pissing me off. He wouldn't even speak, just stare with a glare on his face and I would just stare back at him with an equally scary look. He tried to follow me at lunch and I could suppose it was only to ask me about what happened in the gym yesterday. But I hid in the nurse's office as I took my pills and ate my lunch.
Nurse Ito was disgusted by my lunch of white rice and boiled potatoes with carrots. I liked it but she said that if didn't eat meat, she was going to start making an extra lunch herself. I told her that potatoes were delicious and she just nodded with not much enthusiasm. I returned to class and ignored the idiot for all that I could. Classes went by quickly and the last bell rang. For a second I thought the idiot would stop me and tell me something. But to my surprise he merely ran off like the day before.
I exit the classroom and looked down the hall that would lead me to the gym. I wonder if I could go and ask them if I could just touch a volleyball; I give up on the idea a moment later. Biting my lip with anxiety, I turn to find an older girl looking at me. The girl was only an inch or two taller than me with short brown hair and contagious smile. I smile back at her and then turn, wondering if she came to see her sibling. That is until she spoke.
"Hitz-chan?" the girl calls out with a cheery voice and my heart sinks. This must be someone who thinks I can play volleyball. I had worried that Takeda-sensei would have told the girls' volleyball captain.
"What?" I ask harshly as I turn, fear turning to anger. The girl's smile falls off and she replaces it with a determined look. I rearrange my bag on my shoulder and wait for her to ask me.
"I was wondering if you would want to try out for the girls' volleyball team," she says quietly when my harsh glare turns into a sneer. I was right.
"Does your uniform have short sleeves?" I ask her with a hiss, angry at Takeda-sensei for spilling the beans of my position in Germany. Seriously, how the hell did he know who I was?
"Yes but—"
"Then I refuse. I do not wish to compete anymore. Those days are gone," I tell with a sour frown. The girl looks at me quizzically and I make a move to walk away but she speaks once again.
"Why would you say that? You were the best in your country, you were possibly the best libero in Europe and now you're just going to give it all up. What happened to you that made you give up the thing that you loved?" she asks angrily and I just frown deeper. I should lie; she doesn't get to know why I am the way I am now.
"I admit it was pretty good but I never loved volleyball. I hated it after a while," I reply with ice in my voice. Turning away from her shocked face, I feel my face fit into a sad smile. Those words couldn't be farther from the truth.
Walking away, I figure that I just blew my chance of playing with volleyball recreationally with the girls and I should just go home. There is nothing I could do now. The girl is going to tell the small glasses teacher and he's going to tell the boys team and the boys' team isn't going to allow me to even talk to them. That is the way the cycle will work. I can see it all playing out now.
So walking to my bike, I decide to go through the soccer field rather than taking the chance and seeing that girl captain or nosey glasses teacher Takeda. But it's just my luck that I am not alone. Instead the idiot and the short orange haired boy are passing to each other in the grass. At least it looks like they're trying to pass. It's not very good passing on the short boy's end. The idiot just seems angry that the other boy doesn't understand what he's doing wrong. I know what they're both doing wrong, passing being my expertise.
I place myself on the other side of the field and lay in the grass. Turning my head, I watch the volleyball be passed for two turns and then falls to the ground. They don't have that bad of form but some things need a lot of work. Turning my head back to the sky, I watch the clouds rolling past. That one looks like a bunny, my voice says.
I have often wondered why this voice differs from the one that I actually think the thoughts now. That voice is somehow random and I wonder if because the medication fogs my mind that I always think with the snarky voice but it is faded into the background. Maybe that's how I really am. I wonder if I will ever become that voice. Perhaps my life won't allow me to ever be that voice.
I look to the boys playing with the green, red and white ball. Perhaps I can regain some of my life with playing the thing that I loved most. I really did love the sport and I was the best, but I didn't like it because I was good. I was good because I liked it.
My parents were always overseas dealing with some business deal, so I was left to fend for myself. The house was quiet back then and the silence scared me. When I was really young, one girl had mentioned to me that her brother played volleyball so she didn't have to go home until late. So in the last year of elementary, I joined a volleyball club outside of school.
My parents didn't mind the fees, so after school and the weekends I practiced. I practiced more than anyone with a full time job and I loved it. During the summer my parents sent me to volleyball camps so I wouldn't be home all alone during the day. I was shipped to America and Austria and Belgium. Volleyball was my life.
That's why when I made my decision to go to a boarding school out of the country, I chose one with a great volleyball program. That's why I was in the showers in Switzerland for the summer when I first hear the voices. It's possible that I could make volleyball my life once again. I was so happy then. The absence of my parents didn't bother me at all and I felt at home on a court. It's possible that I built my life around volleyball and now that I don't have it in my life, I feel empty.
I think about this as I feel the breeze go through the grass and the clouds move faster in the now orange sky; I was daydreaming for an hour or two. But it wouldn't be the first time that happens. Without the voices crowding my mind, I often find that I can think and remember things for hours on end. I have to get going.
Turning back to the boys, I find that they haven't gotten any better. I sigh as I sit up and watch them carefully. They can't identify what they're doing wrong, especially the short one. He looks like he has never had any formal training. I stand and shake my skirt of grass and fix my long braid as I grab my bag.
Now do I go over there and tell them how to fix themselves or do I just leave them like that? Leave them, my voice says, but I ignore it as I walk closer and sit in the grass next to a tree. They won't notice me for a while. The orange haired boy again misses the mark and he lets out an exasperated yell. The idiot only tells him to try harder. Changing my shoes back into my converse from the ride here, I fold my legs into themselves and wait for the ball to be flung to me. It won't take that long.
"Bakayema!" the orange haired boy yells at the idiot.
"Dumbass, hit it up!" the idiot exclaims in anger and I just wait silently.
With a spike from the idiot that hits the short boy in the face, the ball finally rolls to me. I reach the two feet to my right and wait for the boys to ask me for the ball. They are first stunned that I'm sitting there and then are angry at me for not giving the ball back. They wear their kneepads even though we're on soft grass and I immediately wonder if I have any in my boxes of stuff. I probably left them and my ankle braces in some hospital.
"Give me the ball," the ebony-haired idiot says and I stand up slowly. I drop the ball to the ground and take off the red silk tie from my neck. Wrapping it around my braid, I reach down and get the ball once again.
"What are you doing?" the orange-haired boy asks me and I wave at him to get in position. He doesn't seem to understand me and I sigh.
"Get down, I'm going to teach you how to receive properly," I instruct and the midget merely looks dumbfounded.
"I don't think so," the idiot replies and I sigh once again. Why are they making things difficult?
"Why not idiot?" I ask in an exasperated voice.
"Don't call me an idiot!"
"Get into position."
"I don't need to learn how to receive."
"Get into position!" I yell at the tall boy. He frowns with my order but gets into position nonetheless.
"Good. Now when you receive, plant your feet more. I know you're thinking of everything at the same time, but what really matters in that moment is if you get the ball up. If you don't receive, it won't matter about the set or the spike."
The boy frowns and I shake my head with a small smile. He reminds me of a girl I used to play with. They think they know everything and for the most part it's true, but when they get to harder opponents and their basics aren't perfect, their game strategy won't mean anything.
The tall boy has his fingers brushing the ground and I can feel the other boy watching me. I ready my arm and throw the ball in the air. He favors his left side, so I spike downwards to his left. The ball flies into the air and I know he took some of my instruction into consideration. But then again, he barely makes it and the ball doesn't fly to me.
"Plant your feet after the drop back," I instruct the idiot and he turns in disgust. Turning the midget I nod to him and he tosses me the ball he had gotten. He gets into position and I smile a wide smile. "You can't put your hands together until you're planted. You like to run with hands almost together. It's faster to get under the ball and then get into position than to be in position and running like a fool."
"Hey," the boy whines and I toss the ball to the boy's right a few feet away. He tries to get under it but his hands once again are together as he moves.
"Okay, look at me. If the idiot were to pass it five feet from me, I could get there with my hands together. But if it were ten feet, I can guarantee that I won't," I explain as the midget gives the ball to the other boy. "Now toss it ten feet, don't worry about it being too low."
The black haired boy heeds my words and nods. He throws the ball moderately high and I wait a second as the ball descends. Then my legs are pumping hard into the dirt and I'm suddenly under the ball with time to spare. I put my arms together and feel the familiar pound of leather against my skin. My heart beats in excitement and I watch as the idiot merely has to put his arms up to catch the ball.
"Amazing," the orange-haired boy remarks and the idiot merely 'tsks'. i can feel myself grin harder as I walk back to the two boys.
"I'm Katrina Hitz by the way. Pleasure to meet you," I reply to the compliment, leaning my hand out as I approach them. The orange-haired boy takes it first and shakes vigorously.
"Shoyo Hinata," he exclaims and then adds a yell of, "I'm going to be Karasuno's ace!"
I laugh mildly as the black-haired boy bangs Hinata on the head. The black haired boy then looks at me with a sour face. He doesn't seem to like that I corrected him. He also doesn't seem to like the fact that I'm good at what I do. Extending my hand to him, he merely looks at it and then turns away. Rude little bastard, my voice thinks angrily. My hand falls to the side and I turn to get my bag. If he doesn't appreciate me helping them then I don't need to waste my time.
"Look what you did Bakeyama! She's leaving. She can help us! If we don't win the match, you can't be setter," Hinata whispers angrily to the other boy.
"He's a setter. No wonder he has bad manners," I murmur in English to myself as I pick up my bag.
I have never gotten along with my setters. I didn't have to trust them; they always had to trust me, something setters don't exactly like to do. They think they know what's best but they only see the things from the net and never the back line.
"Tobio Kageyama," the angry voice shouts. I drop my bag and then look at him with a smile.
"I'm glad you caved. I miss playing. Let's work on your passing."
The boys got better as the day went on. Soon enough it was dark and Hinata was able to actually get some balls up into the air. We passed between the three of us for a couple of hours but my fatigue and the heat of wearing a long sleeve shirt, forced me to sit down. I hadn't actually exercised in the hospitals. The last thing the nurses wanted was for me to get strong enough to overpower them. Even though I had to sit out when the stars came out, I felt content.
The rush of touching the volleyball made me remember that it had been such a big part of my life. It was like without volleyball who was I really? I guess you could say a depressed schizophrenic was what I was. But right now, I wasn't a schizophrenic. I didn't feel like I was. I felt like Katrina Hitz: the libero champion of Germany, the daughter of successful business lawyers, the girl with the long hair who couldn't even hide her motions. That was who I felt like as I laid in the grass and watched the stars.
"Hey, give it back," Hinata yells and I am this close from telling him that he has to play nice with Kageyama.
But then again I didn't even play nice with Kageyama. I sit up nonetheless to stop the twentieth fight this evening. As my eyes hit the place where the boys are a few feet away, I'm surprised that we have company. I didn't even hear them come. One boy is blond and stands way taller than I can trust people to be and his brown haired companion wasn't something to shy away at either. Hinata was jumping for the ball, only to have it raised higher.
"Isn't it time for elementary school boys to go home?" the large blonde says and I snort at the insult.
He really knows how to hit it where it hurts. Hinata doesn't like to be called short just as much as I don't like to be called scrawny. But I have to admit, Hinata is short and I could use some weight. I'm nothing but skin and bones anymore. I walk over to where the boys are and the two newcomers don't really give me any attention.
Hinata instead looks like he's going to tackle the blonde. I merely step next to the orange-haired boy, scowling at the guests. Hinata calms down with my presence and I feel Kageyama come up from the back. By the way my back is burning, he's giving them a scowl too.
"Are you the other first-years joining the club?" Kageyama asks and I wonder why the boys I've been practicing with for hours, weren't practicing in the gym. Maybe I should have asked. Oh, well, it's too late for that. "You, how tall are you?"
I stare up at the blond boy and he looks down on me and Hinata with a smirk. I really don't like this guy. He's probably emotionally constipated and doesn't know how to express any emotion beyond anger and arrogance.
"Tsukki is 188 centimeters," the brown haired boy boasts, then adds, "he'll be 190 soon."
God that is disgustingly tall. I can't trust people that height. They see things without actually having been in the action when it happened. Short people are always in the middle of shit and we can barely even get out. Damn tall people.
"What are you bragging about Yamaguchi," the blond—Tsukki—tells the other boy. Yep, nothing but rage and arrogance.
"Sorry Tsukki," Yamaguchi says and I wonder why he stays with the tall beanstalk.
"You're Kageyama from Kitagawa Daiichi, aren't you?" the blonde beanstalk says and I glance at Kageyama to see him frown deeper. "What is an elite like you doing at Karasuno?"
"Hm," Kageyama replies and I know Hinata is going to open his small pie hole. The attention hasn't been on him for a while.
"Hey," Hinata says, putting himself between Kageyama and Tsukki. I take a step back just in case. "We're going to beat you this Saturday!"
There is silence for a second and I can see that the blonde is readying another verbal punch. Whatever he's going to say, it's going to totally piss off both boys. And what's with this Saturday thing? HInata mentioned something about a match and Kageyama not being a setter.
Maybe I should have actually asked and talked to the boys I was bouncing a volleyball with. But then again whenever I opened my mouth to correct Kageyama he would just try to spike it at Hinata's face, so I wasn't exactly in a place to talk. I also doubt Kageyama would have told me anything.
"Oh, I see. This is a very important match for you. I could care less if I win or lose but you guys actually want to win. You even got a little girl cheerleader. I guess, I could go easy on you," the beanstalk says and I knew it would hurt. He even insulted me. I bite my lip not to cuss the guy out.
"Whether you go easy or not, I will beat you," Kageyama says darkly and I roll my eyes with the 'I'. Seriously Kageyama, you can't beat him yourself.
"You mean 'we'?" Hinata yells at Kageyama.
"Amazing. I've never seen someone so confident, I wouldn't expected any less from the king," the beanstalks says but I can't identify the punch in his words. That is until I look at Kageyama. The boy's demeanor changed and his stance was more of kicked puppy than the pissed off boy from earlier.
"Don't call me that," Kageyama says angrily and the other boy merely chuckles.
"So the rumor is true."
"What rumor?" I ask, finally adding to the conversation. But I said the words with so much venom in my voice that the blonde boy has to pause and smirk at me. I glare and then smirk back at him, the boy's eyes widening with the challenge.
"The rumor that he loses it when he's called King of the Court," the boy replies to me and I glare as he turns to Kageyama.
"What's your problem?" Kageyama retorts and I can tell that Kageyama is unsettled by this rumor.
Hinata can sense the change and he goes to stand behind Kageyama. I merely turn to see that the brown haired boy is watching his friend with pride. I give him a dirty look which he backs away from for a moment, not having as strong as a stomach for my glances as his friend. Tsukki starts to walk towards Kageyama and I take a step closer just in case.
"I watched the prefecture preliminary game. That was some egocentric tossing that you did. I can't believe your teammates tolerated it, because I just couldn't. Wait," Tsukishima makes a noise of realization and I want to punch him. "I guess what happened was because they couldn't tolerate it anymore, either."
I want to go at him but Kageyama beats me to it. The boy grabs a hold of the beanstalk's shirt and gives him a death glare. Yamaguchi gives a call out to his friend and steps forward to help him. Doing the same because I would actually want to fight, I ready myself for anything. This blonde went too far and it's after school hours so we can't be punished.
I step in between the brown haired boy and the blonde, ready to take down Yamaguchi if Kageyama goes at Tsukki. But he doesn't, letting his hand slip from the shirt. Yamaguchi looks at me surprised I was ready to fight and I just scare him with a toothy grin. I'm not afraid of being hurt. I got into enough fights at the psyche wards to know how to take someone down.
Hinata looks baffled by Kageyama's actions and I'm surprised too. Why doesn't Kageyama stick up for himself? Is what he did really that bad that he can't even defend his actions? I can't tell as Kageyama walks to where our bags are. He looks emotionally compromised. Maybe he needs a therapy session.
"Let's go," Kageyama says and I don't make a move. Hinata doesn't move for a second either and I just turn to the blonde, knowing he's going to say something smart.
"What?" Hinata asks as the blonde goes to retrieve that ball.
"Running away? I guess the King isn't what he's cracked up to be," the beanstalk says and Hinata and I zero in on him. "I guess we'll just win this Saturday."
The beanstalk throws the ball into the air and I watch as Hinata grabs it five feet off the ground. For a second I'm shocked but then I'm impressed. This small kid has some skills. I just thought he was a newbie. But boy can he jump.
"Shut up with the King stuff. I'm here too," Hinata says angrily and I can't help but crack a smile with his trying to get attention. "I'll spike the ball over your head."
"Huh," the beanstalk says and Hinata loses his courage with a glare from the taller boy.
I figure it's time for me to step in too. I want this Tsukki to be knocked down from his high pedestal. I want him to get what's coming to him. He deserves pain for being such an asshole. MIght as well give him a warning first before he gets backhanded by karma.
"Wie man in den Wald hineinruft, so schallt es heraus," I tell the boy and he turns his head with a glare directed at me.
I merely walk past him to my bag. Hinata doesn't follow for a second until I wave my hand at him. He nods and runs past me to get his own bag. I'm not surprised they would want an explanation but am surprised that it's his friend that has to ask for the arrogant boy.
"What does that mean?" Yamaguchi asks angrily and I turn to him sizing him up. I could totally take him.
"Just as one shouts into the forest, so it echoes back," I reply. The boy looks at me with a frown set with confusion. This blonde is racking up some totally negative karma points and I can't wait to see him fall on his face. So I smirk and just say, "You look like a smart boy. Figure it out for yourself. I can't be stuck babysitting children who don't understand simple proverbs."
I walk away, leaving a shocked look on both of their faces. They shouldn't underestimate me. The two boys that wait for me, give me proud smiles. I smile widely back at them and wonder if I can get home in the dark. You're going to have to, my voice says and I agree.
"Same place tomorrow?" I ask the two boys and they simply nod, Kageyama too upset and Hinata too confused.
Walking to my bike, I find that I have a bounce in my step. I'm actually really happy and this might be the first time that I'm looking forward to the next day. I'll have to find out what's on Saturday and why Kageyama doesn't like to be called king tomorrow.
The realization hits me that some voices have been coming up. I am suddenly unsure if I will get home in one piece because I have to ride home in the dark and take my pills. I should carry them with me.
Because I swear that that shadow just moved towards me.
Hey all of you that have actually gotten to the second chapter. Just so everyone knows, I have an Ouran High School Host Club fanfic going. I also probably will be writing this for myself and playing around with writing styles. So I am sorry if you dislike it! If you have a problem about anything, leave a comment or message me. This was one long chapter and I am very surprised I wrote this much.
As always, follow, fave, review, obsess, Love yous guys.
