Sugawara Koushi has never been very good at math.
He's more of a poet, or a lyricist. He finds math to be cold, harsh, and unfeeling – sure, math is everywhere in nature and in art and blah blah blah, but that doesn't change the fact that it has no emotion, no soul. Suga's strengths lie within his connection to his spirit and the spirits of his friends. His unity with others shines through in the way he plays volleyball – always in touch with the emotions of everyone on the court. He brings the team together by tapping into each players' individual energy.
And yet.
No matter how much he dislikes math, he is able to recognize the fundamental truth it presents. In volleyball, there are six players on the court. When the genius first year Kageyama came to Karasuno, the arithmetic exposed a harsh reality.
6 + 1 = 7. There can only be one official setter.
Sugawara Koushi is loyal to a fault.
He will do anything to make his friends and the people he cares about happy. He spent two years working to become a member of the starting lineup, but he knows what is in the best interest of the team. He loves volleyball, but it's his friends' dream to go to nationals. He makes the sacrifice he knows he needs to.
7 - 1 = 6.
Math isn't Suga's favorite, but that much he can figure out.
The thought of the position he's giving up sticks in the back of his head during practices, but he can usually keep it subdued. When he sees his friends constantly training to get better, clinging to their dream, he knows that he couldn't stand in their way. Still, the thought that his presence on the court is essentially seen as a detriment stings. He doesn't resent his team, he thinks, but rather he resents himself. When he watches Hinata and Kageyama get to school early and leave long after the end of official practice, he can't help but wonder if he could have kept his position if he had worked as hard. He usually tries to not think about it.
By the time Karasuno was getting ready to play in their practice match against Aoba Johsai, Suga had could already see the writing on the wall. The opposing powerhouse school agreed to play Karasuno, but only if Kageyama was playing the whole game. It wasn't official yet, but Suga knew he'd lost his spot before he'd even gotten the chance to enjoy it. Regardless, he would push through and be as supportive as possible. He would do what was best for the team.
That didn't mean he was giving up, either. Suga was going to watch every match with a critical eye and work as hard as he could in practice. This wasn't the end. No, far from it – he might not end up being the team's official setter, but he would be damned if he wasn't going to try his hardest to get back on the court.
Still, he feels somewhat hollow when he's watching the practice match entirely from the sidelines. He was so close to the court, but still not on it – the image is unpleasantly similar to that of every game from the previous two years. Things were supposed to change for him. The fact that things didn't definitely keeps him up at night, but he smiles when he watches his best friend, Daichi, hit a perfect spike.
Daichi, who had been by his side over the last two years, watching him become the best setter he could be. And Daichi, who had spent an hour arguing with Suga over the phone when he told him that he was going to give his position up for this game. (And then another hour yelling at him after he actually DID give it up.) He was there for every important moment in high school – they bonded over volleyball at first, but later on found themselves in the same difficult classes. Daichi would walk Suga to his bus stop after practice every night, and they would complain about this teacher or that obnoxious student. Eventually, they became best friends and would talk about things outside of volleyball and school. He was the only person Suga trusted completely, which is why he would do anything for him – even give up on his dream.
"Nice hit Daichi!" Suga calls from the sidelines. The ball had landed right on the back of the far boundary, perfectly out of reach. 'Just like Daichi,' Suga thinks bitterly. Perfectly ungettable.
His sour thought doesn't last long, because Daichi hears his cheering – he flashes the brightest grin and gives Suga a thumbs-up. Despite being swarmed by his rowdy teammates on the court, Daichi still made sure to pay mind to him. Suga feels his heart flutter, and his cheeks heat up (if only a little bit.). After basking in that feeling for a split second, Suga flashes his own grin and lets out a tiny laugh. Still watching Daichi, he can almost make out the tiniest hint of a blush rising to the captain's cheeks.
'What was that?' Suga thinks to himself. Daichi's probably just flushed from playing volleyball against one of the best teams in the prefecture, Suga reminds himself. No chance it was because of him.
Suga really needs to reel thoughts like that in. Falling for your straight best friend is soo not it.
Still, his eyes always find their way back to Daichi throughout the rest of the match. He's so fixated on his friend that he doesn't even notice when the king of Aoba Johsai walks through the door.
Oikawa had pretty low expectations for the practice match with Karasuno. Sure, he wasn't going to be there for most of it, but he didn't really mind. There really shouldn't have been anything too exciting going on that day, anyway. If anything, Karasuno's quality of play was so low that they shouldn't even be on the same court. Why they were was a bit of a mystery to him.
That mystery was solved soon after he sauntered into the gym. His team was down, and the reason was obvious. His protégé stood on the opposite side of the gym, cooperating with his team. How irritating.
As he prepared to join the match, his irritation only grew. Not to sound like an asshole, but Oikawa was used to commanding the attention of the court. Like, his fan club literally screamed when he walked through the gym doors. Everyone turned to look at him. Well, almost everyone.
For a moment, he stood and watched the one person in the gym that wasn't watching him. A Karasuno third year that he vaguely remembered seeing in tournaments. Oikawa can't say he remembers him because he had amazing skills (nobody at Karasuno had amazing skills, if you're asking Oikawa) – in truth, Oikawa only remembered him because he was damn pretty. His silver hair sat like a messy halo around his beaming, enthusiastic face. Honestly, if he turned Oikawa's way, he'd probably swoon. Except he didn't even look at Oikawa. Instead of being angelic, that face was just another thing irritating him.
Despite his best efforts, Oikawa couldn't turn the game around with what little time was left. When the match ended, he watched Karasuno absolutely lose their shit. They clearly weren't expecting to win, either. Angel-face ran and hugged who Oikawa assumed was their beefcake captain. Oikawa snapped his face away from the scene. Everything about it was so irritating.
Even though he turned away from the opposite team's victory huddle, he still heard the silver-haired player speaking words of encouragement. 'How refreshing,' Oikawa thought.
Oikawa maneuvered over to his childhood friend.
"Iwa-chaaan, any idea who the silver-haired benchwarmer is?" Oikawa asked, trying to mask his foul mood with an upbeat tone.
"I think that's Karasuno's old setter. He's a third-year that was supposed to start, but looks like that first-year stole his spot. I took a look at the roster before the match, I think his name is Sugawara. Wouldn't want to be him."
"Wow! Yikes! Glad that won't happen to ~me~!" Oikawa sings – for a second, he wonders if perhaps it would have happened to him, had Kageyama gone to Aoba Johsai instead of Karasuno. He suffers a quick middle school flashback, but he pushes it away.
"Whatever, asshole. Let's go – I wanna get ramen with Makki and Matsun, and I'm not leaving you here to bully benchwarmer setters."
"Please, I would never," Oikawa retorts. He would. He had been brainstorming ways to go talk to the other setter, with most methods including a backhanded compliment to start. Oikawa didn't necessarily want to be mean, but this Sugawara character was clearly the second-most attractive person in the gym (second, obviously, to Oikawa himself.) He didn't want to let him walk around with all of that confidence (and power.) Regardless, Iwaizumi's threat deters him from approaching the pretty face across the gym. He moves to gather his things when he locks eyes with the other setter for the first time.
Oikawa freezes for a moment, waiting to see what the other setter would do. He feels the sudden fluttering of butterflies in his stomach, almost thinking he was going to be approached. Instead, the other setter just maintains eye contact (for what really seemed like a little too long) before giving a small nod and turning back to his team. Oikawa returns the gesture and immediately looks down at his bag to hide his flushing cheeks. He's almost glad the other setter didn't approach him – he had a feeling that he would get flustered, and Oikawa does not get flustered. The whole interaction really rubbed him the wrong way – Oikawa definitely wasn't used to having the script flipped on him.
As he follows Iwaizumi out of the gym, he gets the sensation that he's being watched. Oikawa has half a mind to turn around and see if anyone's looking, but his pride stops him. Besides, someone's always looking.
'Suga-chan, Mr. Refreshing, I promise Aoba Johsai will destroy Karasuno,' Oikawa plots. Sugawara would have to look Oikawa in the eye when he led his team to victory. Next time, Oikawa would have the upper hand.