"Kageyama, I think…I think I'd go insane if I don't get to play volleyball anymore."

"I see."

"You're not going to retaliate?"

"You take volleyball seriously, and so do I."

"You think it's stupid?"

"No. Not really."

-::-

Tobio spiked the ball against the wall, and hit it again the moment it bounced back. The steady sound of rubber pounding against concrete resonated in his ears. He saw nothing. Thought about nothing. Felt nothing. He knew his hands were already red and bruises were beginning to form, but he didn't give a damn.

I may be small, but I can jump!

One more time!

I had a feeling that we wouldn't be 'friends' at first, but we would be 'partners'.

I'm here!

"No, you ass," Tobio whispered, his eyes fixed on the ball. "You aren't freaking here. You—" he lost his rhythm; the ball bounced to another direction, and he wasn't able to receive it. It rolled on the ground, gradually coming to a stop after a few seconds.

The teenager wiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirt's sleeve.

"You promised you'd be the one to defeat me," he muttered. "You said—"

"Tobi-nii!"

He turned around, and the familiar hue of orange hair caught his attention first. He caught the girl in his arms. "Natsu, what're you doing here?"

With sunshine in her eyes and warmth gracing her smile, the young girl let go and answered, "I heard you playing and the ball's going bam! and gwah! so I ran all the way here!"

"But what if it wasn't me? Be more careful next time."

"I know it's you, though," she returned. "Because only Shou-nii knows about this place, and he said the only only only person he brought here was you."

A wistful smile broke out from Tobio's lips. He pointed at the plastic bag she was carrying. "What's that?"

"I went to the market to buy some ingredients for mom. She's cooking supper," Natsu grinned widely—the kind which strongly resembled Shouyou's. "Please join us!"

-::-

Tobio was greeted into the household warmly, and after Natsu grabbed something from the plastic bag, she handed it to her mother. He realized they were meat buns. The very ones they used to get from Keishin's shop.

"Tobi-nii," she began. "Do you want some?"

"Isn't that for Shoyou?"

She smiled, and shook her head briefly. "I think he'd like it better if we shared."

Tobio and Natsu sat on the porch, staring at the vacant horizon stained with hues of orange and pink. The buns were warm, and his teeth sunk into the softness of the bread. He chewed, letting the flavor permeate his taste buds.

"You don't visit nowadays," Natsu pointed out.

He smiled sheepishly, and tousled the little girl's hair. "I'm sorry; school is keeping me busy."

"Hey, Tobi-nii."

"Hm?"

"I miss Shou-nii a lot. Sometimes, I even cry. Do you cry when you miss him?"

Tobio kept quiet.

"When Shou-nii loses something that's important to him, he isn't afraid to cry," Natsu carried on. "So I think I'm crying for the same reason. But Shou-nii doesn't keep on crying, you know! He wipes his tears away, pats his chest twice and then he stands up again. And then he'd smile."

Chuckling, he remarked, "That sounds like Shouyou, all right."

The both of them, after all, learned that lesson at the same time. It happened when they officially fought Aobajousai on the court. They pushed themselves with all their might, but in the end, they lost. It was a bitter pill for them to swallow.

Isn't 'defeat' more like a trial to overcome? Of whether you can stand up and walk again after falling to your knees.

On that day, Tobio's pride as a setter came crashing down. He protected everything in the best of his ability, but the opposing team's power broke his defenses down.

On that day, something in Tobio shattered.

But it was not a bad thing. He considered it to not be a bad thing.

Only hard hearts break, he thought.

And what replaced the debris, was something even better: a strong heart.

"Tobi-nii, is Shou-nii important to you?" Natsu pressed on.

"Shouyou, huh?" he muttered. "Yeah, he's important to me."

"Then, do you cry when you miss him?"

He looked at her, bright eyes reminding him of her older brother's stare. What flashed before him were different scenes he lived through, after the reality of living without Shouyou finally hit him.

Most of them were blurry.

Not because he couldn't remember them anymore.

Tobio could not see clearly, for the mere fact that his tears got in the way.

The pinkish scars on his arms burned.

"I do, Natsu," he quietly answered. "I do."