"In French, you don't really say 'I miss you.'

You say 'tu me manques,' which is closer to 'you are missing from me.'

I love that. "You are missing from me."

You are apart of me, you are essential to my being.

You are like a limb, or an organ, or blood.

I cannot function without you."

~ Normal... But Not Real? ~


I'd first realized I had become friends with Nishinoya about four days after I'd met him. This had come as quite a shock to me, as not only was I unused to having friends...but I had only known him for four days.

Now when I say "unused to" I do not mean to imply that I hadn't had friends during my first sixteen years of life.

I'd had many.

Tons in fact.

They weren't just for show either, we'd do all the typical friend things; go over to each others house, give each other gifts for birthdays or holidays, even call each other up to rant about this or that.

My friendships weren't shallow, either, I knew what my friends greatest fears were, all about their dreams for the future. I knew about their crushes, and their secrets. I knew them.

But...

They didn't know me.

It's not that they didn't care about me, I just had the unfortunate habit of always being the "odd one out." I never made friends with one person, but always a group. Or if I did make friends with one person they were, somehow, already friends with my friends-and closer friends at that.

I was never excluded or anything.

They all treated me kindly.

But the fact was that I was always just the slightest bit off. I always felt like a guest amongst my clique. I would see these shows or read these books about great friendships, about people willing to give anything and everything for each other, and I could just tell that mine weren't that strong.

And I was so certain about this because I had had real friends before. Had felt like I'd belong. Had been comfortable enough to say and do whatever in their presence.

Before I'd moved in fourth grade.

So when I say I was "unused to" friendship, I meant the type of friendship where you'd go out of your way to do a favor for said friend-not because they asked, but because you know that they would never ask.

Ironically enough, that was how I'd realized Nishinoya and I had become friends in the first place.

He'd offered to help me.

Well, to be more accurate, he had offered to teach me his "Super!Awesomely-Cool!" move. Now, I had only known Nishinoya for about four days at this point. That was long enough to understand a bit of what makes him tick, but not nearly long enough to make guesses as to his reasoning behind things.

Not to mention this was the day after I had word-vomited on him. (In my defense I had gotten a call a few hours earlier from a rival who had just heard the news and wanted to apologize. The worst part? She'd been completely sincere.) So I wasn't quite sure how to take this declaration.

Was he trying to show off? Trying to act like nothing had happened? Or was he going to be like so many before him and try and prove that my 'injury' was "no problem" try and prove that he could fix it?!

Looking back it's funny that there was ever a time when I had understood Nishinoya so poorly.

As anyone who knew the libero could've guessed, his reasoning was none of the above. Rather it was exactly what he had said in the beginning. He knew a really cool move. He thought I could do said move. So he offered to teach me.

It truly was that simple.

He wasn't even trying to repay me for staying after everyday to help him with his block-follows.

I don't think that even registered as a chore to him, to be honest, which I can understand. I always took for granted the fact that my coaches probably didn't want to stay after spotting my fly-aways on bars, or my numerous tumble-runs on floor. (It sounds pretty selfish, but when you are so focused on improving yourself you tend to forget that others have to give up the time they could be focusing on them to focus on you instead.)

No, this wasn't an attempt to thank me. This wasn't an attempt to pity me. This wasn't even an attempt to condescend to me (Nishinoya is perhaps one of the most humble athletes I know-despite how often he brags). No, this was an attempt, pure and simple, to teach me.

Because I wanted to be taught.

To this day I don't know how he knew. I didn't love volleyball. I didn't want to become some amazing player that everyone would remember. Heck, I didn't even want to play competitively. But I did want my arms to make that beautiful "fwsh" noise that he so effortlessly commanded. I did want to be able to not only re-act, but re-direct the ball. I wanted, in a sense, to look half-as-cool as Nishinoya whenever I received.

Of course such a selfish thought stayed locked tightly in my heart-he was here to train so that he could watch his teammates backs. So that he could help lead them to Nationals. Watch his Ace, who was in his final year, break through the 'iron wall.' And I wanted him to take time out of his busy schedule to train me, so that I could "look cooler"?

Please.

As if I'd ever let that slip.

But-somehow-Nishinoya realized I wanted to learn. Even when I denied it. Even when I called him an idiot for so much as suggesting it. Even when I threatened to stop showing up if the freakin' idiot didn't just drop it.

He still pressed me.

And, by the end of that fourth day, pinky in pain from continually returning the ball poorly (stupid tendons connecting everything), and wide smile from the one perfect return I'd executed. I couldn't deny that, somehow, in the loosest of terms, Nishinoya and I had become friends.

Not when his smile was ten-times brighter than mine-though there for the same reason. Not when he started jumping around yelling about "'mura-chan" this and "'mura-chan" that, and not when he didn't so much as bat an eye when I called him "Shinoya-baka."

After all, when a guy takes it in stride that you call him "idiot," you know you're friends.


Nishinoya was freaking out.

It had been about twenty minutes since he'd left 'mura-chan at her house and started his walk home-he didn't feel right letting her walk home alone after she had just bawled her eyes out in front of him-and he was still freaking out.

Nishinoya was a guy.

He was not made to deal with such dangerous things as a girl crying!

And 'mura-chan hadn't even been crying that much! She'd been trying really hard to hold it in! He had only counted about two or three tears that made it past her iron-clad control.

But somehow, the knowledge that she didn't let herself cry in front of him, was even worse. Yet he knew that if she had let go and started bawling, he wouldn't have been able to do anything more than what he'd already done-just stand there-and that would've made him feel horrible.

So what did I want her to do, then? Just not feel sad that her life's dream was over?

Thus, Nishinoya was freaking out.

He had been pacing in his bedroom for fifteen minutes.

He hadn't even heard his mother call him to help set the table, so lost in his thoughts of. What am I going to say tomorrow Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Except, you know, more manly.

Thus, it mustn't come as much of a surprise that his Mother managed to sneak up on the Libero and quickly deduced that he had something on his mind.

"Yuu?"

"Wha-?" Nishinoya spun around instantly, face a picture of surprise. "Kaa-san! Don't scare me like that!"

"Don't take that tone with me, young man. I've been calling you for that past five-minutes. It's not my fault that you were too wrapped up in your own thoughts to take notice."

"..." he mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" A raised eyebrow.

"Ah! Nothing, nothing." He denied, rapidly shaking his head. "Just...just a problem I'm stuck on."

"Oh?" Nishinoya's mom questioned, leaving the opening for her son. A pause. "Anything I can help with?" She prompted after he failed to read her queue.

Nishinoya automatically started shaking his head, "No. It's nothing you'd under-wait! Mom! You're a girl!"

"Well, I'd like to think of myself as more of a woman."

"No!" Nishinoya scowled, why did parents have to make everything so much harder than need be? "What I meant was, you're a girl so you should know how a girl would want me to react to making her cry!"

At a 'I need an explanation, right now, young man' look. Nishinoya realized what exactly, he had just said.

"No-wait-I didn't mean I made her cry! Well I kinda did...but it wasn't really me! I mean-I think-Gah! It's complicated."

"Then explain it to me." And so he did. Nishinoya sat down with his mom at the dinner table-his father was out of town for business-and told her everything. Starting with meeting 'mura-chan after she offered to be the blocker for his drills. And ending with the tragic story Nishinoya had only heard himself about two hours ago.

"...and I don't know how I'm supposed to react tomorrow! I mean, how am I meant to treat her?! Should I act like nothing's happened? But then she might feel I think she's overreacting. But if I make a big deal about it she'll think that her telling me changed how I think about her-and it didn't! Well it did but only for the better! Now I think she's even stronger than before. I mean, if that had happened to me, I don't know how I would have reacted!"

"Probably much the same way."

"Huh?" Nishinoya couldn't understand the soft smile his mother was sporting. After all, this was a serious matter!

"What I mean is," she began, her eyes twinkling, "this Himura-san sounds very similar to you, Yuu. At least as far as her love for her sport is concerned. I think you've gotten too caught up in how she would want you to react as a girl. I think that is doing her a great disservice, don't you? From what you've told me you should be far more concerned with how she would want you to react as an athlete."

Understanding dawned in Nishinoya's eyes.

"I think," his mother continued, "it was a great stroke of luck that the two of you met. After all, there are probably very few people who Himura-san can relate to, and I imagine a vast majority of them she's trying to avoid at the moment. Treat her like you'd want to be treated in that situation and I think you'll be fine."

Nishinoya nodded, taking his mother's advice to heart.

Already so many little things 'mura-chan did were starting to make much more sense.

Her insistence that they dedicate thirty minutes to stretching everyday-she didn't want to lose what little connection she still had to her sport.

Her refusal to contemplate taking up volleyball-she didn't want to contemplate that her sport was replaceable.

And her refusal to cry in front of Nishinoya when sharing her pain-she didn't want to come across as weak, not as a person, but as an athlete.

Suddenly tomorrow didn't seem so daunting. After all Nishinoya knew that if he were in 'mura-chans shoes, the one thing he would want most, would be the one thing he would refuse to acknowledge-even to himself. After all, it would feel too much like a betrayal.

But, still, if he had to give up volleyball. If he had absolutely no choice. Then, in the deepest parts of his heart, he would be hoping for someone to come along and show him that there was more to life than his sport. More to life than the net, court, and ball.

Oh, he would fight them. He would yell, and kick, and scream, and denydenydeny but, in the deepest parts of his heart, he would be happy.

It was this thought that Nishinoya clung to when he kept pressing 'mura-chan to let him teach her his cool move. It was all about returning the ball with one arm, by curling your fist inward the ball would shoot nearly directly up. It was great for saving any plays that hit the net on the second pass. Of course it required nearly no hesitation, but he was confident 'mura-chan would get it.

And she did.

In record time too! It only took her about five hours. Which, was actually really very fast.

Nishinoya couldn't help but wonder how good she'd be if she could jump-could dive-but that was not important, because at least she could play. And if she wanted to call him an idiot for bringing that smile out of her he would gladly accept it. After all, he was smart enough to catch onto the fact that he was no-longer "Nishinoya-san."


It's funny how fast time flies when you have someone to spend it with.

When I first met 'shinoya-baka and learned that he would be there to help me kill boredom for a week, all I thought was "cool, a whole week down." But by the end of his suspension I couldn't help the incredulous thought of "it's been a week already."

A sentiment that was apparently shared with 'shinoya, who kept glancing at his phone's calendar as if doing so would somehow change the date.

It was kind of scary, in a way.

That I had spent paradoxically so little and yet so much time with this guy. On one hand, I had only known him for about five days. Six days ago if someone had said "Nishinoya Yuu" I would've had no clue who they were talking about.

On the other hand I had spent over ten hours a day in his presence. Ten hours, playing sports with him-which to two competitive people was about the fastest way to build a friendship. Ten hours talking about whatever popped into mind. Ten hours spent confiding in him. Five of which I would now have to fill with something-or someone-else.

Oh, he wasn't completely abandoning me. True he had to attend school again, but he still had three weeks before he could go back to club activities. He promised me he'd be here by 14:30 everyday, and that he could still come in the mornings on weekends. Even had us exchange numbers so that there was no chance of missing each other.

I couldn't squash the feeling of betrayal though.

It was completely ridiculous, I told myself, shinoya-baka was going to school. It's not as if he had a choice in the matter, and if he did I knew that would be the last place he'd go. The last five days had probably been heaven to him. Doing nothing but playing his sport day-in and day-out, with someone who never told him things like "are we done yet?" or "can we please take a break now?" I knew he wasn't looking forward to sitting in classes, listening to his sensei drone on-and-on.

I knew this.

Yet I was stupidly, incorrigibly, UNREPENTANTLY, jealous.

Not of 'shinoya. No, I did not envy his situation. Rather I was jealous of all of his classmates who would get to see him at their leisure. Jealous of his schoolmates that would get to share lunch with him. Jealous-even-of his teammates, to whom (and for whom) he would always return. In short, I was jealous of everyone who would get to spend time with my friend, while I was forced to sit in this dusty old gym.

Broken and alone.

Of course these were thoughts that I kept buried deep in my psyche. Hidden beneath false smiles and repeated lines of "no, no, I'm fine." After all, I had no right to be so possessive. 'shinoya may have been my only friend at the moment-I was never really friends with my teammates, and the few friends I had apparently didn't feel the need to keep contact after I'd moved-but he had plenty of friends himself.

Friends who'd probably been worried about him. Who were, probably, eagerly awaiting his return. Friends who wouldn't begrudge him the friendship of the ratty little girl who he met at his local rec-center. In a word? Friends who were much better at friendship than me.

So I let him go without much fuss. Shrugged it off as if this happened all the time. As if I made it a habit to bare my soul to complete strangers and then allow them to teach me random sports. I wasn't that a good a friend anyway, I'd told myself, I would have only dragged him down. This was for the best.

But no matter how much I tried to convince myself with empty platitudes. The fact was, it hurt.

That first Monday, it took all I had to sit around and wait for him to keep his promise. By Thursday I made it a point to not even show up at the gym until half-an-hour before 'shinoya himself. By Saturday I had all but forgotten what it felt like to practice all day with him.

And on Sunday, the one day 'shinoya had completely off of school, I all but cried when he text me to let me know he'd meet me at "our place" at ten.

I hadn't put that much energy into a sport in a while.

Of course the euphoria crashed around me when I realized that I was just setting myself up for even greater disappointment. After all, another week had just gone by. I had two weeks left with this flimsy schedule before Nishinoya could return to club, and then my time with him would be cut even shorter.

I couldn't keep doing this.

I couldn't live my life so wrapped around one person. Friend or no. It simply wasn't healthy. It was in that moment that I understood why sensei was so against me continuing to be homeschooled. I wasn't in the greatest of places psychologically. The last thing I needed to deal with was this depressing feeling of isolation.

It was as if a wall had risen up between me and 'shinoya. He was on one side, surrounded by a million face-less students, all living their lives in ignorant bliss. And I was on the other side, completely alone. Cloaked in shadows and cold. Forced to watch, chained, as the one person I could really connect to drifted farther and farther away.

It is hard to explain how I felt during those three weeks that I tried to juggle my friendship with 'shinoya with this growing feeling of this is not right of I can't keep doing this. I'd felt as if a weight had settle firmly in my stomach, as if gravity had increased around me. Every color was a little duller, every noise a little more washed out. I was retreating from the world, bit-by-bit, and I wasn't even noticing.

Luckily for me, my friend was.

I couldn't see myself, during those three weeks, so I have no idea what I truly looked like. But if Nishinoya was to be believed then it was something like a cross-between a "newly raised zombie" and an "insomniac vampire"...whatever that means.

Apparently he'd been spending weeks trying to figure out what was wrong. But I'd always shrugged him off with a forced-smile and an "I"m alright." To this day and I don't remember this...which is rather scary in and of itself. In fact I don't remember interacting with anyone at all. It was as if my head was completely submerged underwater. Light and sound was distorted and I sort of just...floated, through the day.

It wasn't until the last Friday before 'shinoya's punishment ended that he managed to get through to me.

I don't know what he had been saying to me before hand, I don't even remember talking to him at all. All I remember is the moment the light shifted in his eyes, and something solidified in his gaze. And the next thing I knew my cheek was burning.

"You..." I muttered, surprised, hand raising to my cheek, "...slapped me?" No anger, just shock. Total shock. "Why?" I muttered, sluggishly confused.

"W-why?" He sputtered, indignant. "Why?!" I flinched back at the tone his voice had taken. High-pitched and just a little bit...was that worry I heard? "She asks me why?" Nishinoya continued, muttering to himself.

It was in that moment that I finally started taking notice of my surroundings. Mainly the way Nishinoya's arms were shaking, the way his whole body was tense as if he was a second from punching someone out, and the way his eyes kept scanning over me as if to make sure I was uninjured.

Which was completely ridiculous, I hadn't injured myself since I'd stubbed my toe yesterday...yesterday? No, that was a few days ago? Weeks?...when had that happened? And for that matter, when had I last eaten? Or showered? What had I been doing for the last two weeks?!

"...and then I got so worried I had to ask Sugawara-senpai for advice, and he said that this all sounded very bad. So by then I was completely freaking out you know? And I kept trying to talk to you. But you just wouldn't answer me! So I figured, well if nothing else was working-"

"...'shinoya," I sheepishly interrupted. "What day is it?"

This seemed to stop Nishinoya's rant cold. "...'mura-chan," he began, quietly, "it's April 23rd...three days before the end of my punishment." The shock must have registered on my face because he slowly continued. Filling me in on how I had stopped talking over a week ago. On how I continued to show up to the rec-center, and would play with him, but it was completely robotic, as if I wasn't even there. How he completely flipped and started running around asking anyone he thought might be able to help for advice. And how he'd decided to drag me to the doctor if he couldn't snap me out of it today.

By the end of it all I was so confused that when 'shinoya asked me to please tell him what was wrong, I didn't even think to censor my thoughts. And let him realize exactly how pathetic I was. How I was a horrible, possessive, jealous, creature who seemed to self-destruct over the stupidest of reasons. Perhaps I had realized what I was about to say and chose to say it anyway, in the hopes of driving 'shinoya away from the mess that was 'me.'

I do know that I was completely convinced that 'shinoya would leave, disgusted by the time I was done. After all there was no way to peaceful resolve this. I wanted to spend time with 'shinoya, and he had a life. It was a simple as that.

Except it was even simpler.

"Huh." Nishinoya muttered, an incomprehensible look in his eye. "So you were lonely?" He then reached over and patted me on the head...like a dog. Before solving all of my problems with a crooked smile. "Why not enroll in Karasuno, then?"

Leaning back, hands in his pockets and head tilted to the side, only one thought registered.

Nishinoya...he's kind of cool, isn't he?