When Nishinoya Yuu is a child, he's a coward.

He's little, and there's this ever present bundle of fear and anxiety writhing around in his chest. It means he's scared, he concludes, and so he cries when he rides a bike for the first time, and then when he gets lost in the woods near his house, and then again when he comes across a dog bigger than he is.

It's strange, he begins to think, as he grows. He's sure that feeling must be his own, but sometimes he's suddenly, explicitly happy, and sometimes when he thinks he should be happy, he's so painfully sad that it aches in every fiber of his being.

When he's eight, Yuu scrapes his leg from knee to mid-shin when he falls out of a tree. The pain is the first sensation he's aware of, arm twisted awkwardly beneath him where it'd made a futile attempt to cushion his fall. Underneath it, concern spikes, bubbling with that familiar chill of anxiety. Yuu is too busy thinking about how much his arm and leg hurt to give it too much thought at the time.

Yuu is eight the first time he breaks his arm, and the cast itches so much that he's tempted to tear it off the moment it's on. Yuu is eight when he's sitting in the passenger seat of his grandfather's car, a cast on one arm and ice cream in his other hand. He thinks the scrape down his leg is going to leave a nasty scar, but it'll look cool and he can tell people whatever he wants about its origin.

"You don't seem excited about your ice cream," his grandfather remarks with a little chuckle, lips tugging up.

Yuu huffs. "I am! I'm super excited!"

He thinks he is, at least. Yuu loves ice cream, and he always gets excited when he gets it, but that tugging little concern is still nestled deep in his chest and Yuu doesn't really know what to do with it. He's so used to it, like second nature, but somehow it feels foreign nowadays.

His grandpa laughs again. "I bet your soulmate is worried about you, always causing yourself trouble like this."

Yuu stares back at him, ice cream halfway to his mouth. "Huh?"

"Your soulmate," the man says again, "everyone's got one. Not necessarily romantic, mind ya. You can feel their emotions. It's a little inconvenient sometimes, but you miss it when it's gone. You're always hurting yourself, so your soulmate is probably worried about you."

Yuu thinks about his grandmother. His memories of her are faint, at best. He'd barely been old enough to remember her face when she'd passed, but he remembers how strange his grandfather had acted after, like something was missing from the core of his being. Yuu thinks about the word soulmate . There's someone out there meant to be in his life specifically, and he's meant to be in theirs. Yuu thinks about the little bundle of emotion in his chest, and he realizes that must be his soulmate.

He hadn't thought to try and distinguish them until now, but it has him tracking his memories back as far back as he can, seeking that feeling in them all. Sure enough, the anxiety is ever present. Sometimes, it's duller than others, muffled beneath other emotions, but it's always there.

"I think my soulmate is a scaredy-cat," Yuu announces, and then shrieks when his cold ice cream drips onto his exposed knee.

His grandfather laughs, and Yuu whines as he shoves the top of the cone into his mouth in a futile attempt to save the rest of it.

When he's a child, Nishinoya Yuu is a coward. When he's eight, his grandfather tells him about soulmates , and Yuu thinks my soulmate is scared of everything. It keeps him up that night, staring at the ceiling in a way that feels too ancient for a boy his age, but he's come to a conclusion. If his soulmate is a scaredy-cat, then Yuu will just have to be the brave one for the both of them.

He tries to reach out to that little bundle of feeling with his resolve, wanting to sooth the turmoil there. It doesn't change, but Yuu is determined. He'll become strong enough for the both of them, and then he'll protect his soulmate so they never have to worry again.

"From now on," he tells the air, sitting up and jumping off his bed, "I'm going to be the bravest person ever! Then my soulmate will never have to worry again!"

His bravery starts by yelling past his bedtime. He tells himself that he isn't scared when his mother shouts from the other room, he's just being respectful by listening to her and crawling back into his bed, hiding under his blanket. If his heart is pounding in his ears, then that's a secret between him and his soulmate.

With his new resolve, Yuu grows. He becomes bold and eccentric, loud and outspoken. He becomes a lionhearted boy, too much brilliance to fit inside a body as small as his remains. He becomes stubborn and strong-willed, never backing down from a challenge regardless of how much trouble it will get him into. Yuu embraces everything he has to offer, but he refuses to be sad.

That ever present pit of broiling emotions is constant, nestled deep in his chest like a second heart, and he doesn't want to make his soulmate worry ever again.

Some days, it's calmer than others. There's times he nearly forgets it's there, in the wake of some other hesitant, but excited emotion, and there's times where it's so strong that it wakes him even from a dead sleep. Those nights are the worst because he knows there's nothing he can do as is, and his soulmate is having to suffer alone.

He tries to encourage them as best he can, wondering if they feel his emotions as strongly as he often feels their's.

Yuu is in his last year of middle school when things begin to change. He's taken to volleyball like a moth to flame. There's something about being behind everyone like the final line of defense, the one everyone depends on to keep the ball in play; it's thrilling, keeping his blood rushing in his veins and his heart pounding in his ears.

He wins an award, and he's so full of pride that he nearly misses the faint little swell of happiness that comes from that bundle of feelings in the back of his chest. Maybe his soulmate does feel his emotions just as strongly.

The first time he meets Azumane Asahi, Yuu doesn't think much of him. His hair is a little past his ears, curling up beneath the lobes and sticking up in the back like he'd recently been laying on it. His first impression is that Azumane looks as if he's waiting for the entire world to come down on his shoulders. He easily dwarfs everyone, but he stands with his shoulders curled in, hands clasped complacently in front of him and gaze down, as if trying to avoid notice.

Yuu isn't sure why, but it pisses him off, seeing someone who looks as big and strong as Azumane looking like such a coward.

He says as much to Azumane's face exactly a week later.

Azumane balks. "What."

Yuu puts his hands on his hips. "You're huge and super strong, but you act like a total coward. You look like a skittish dog or something!"

"A dog…" Azumane visibly slouches lower.

Yuu would say his dejected expression is almost comical, if it hadn't been the exact opposite of what he'd been wanting. Azumane reminds him of how he'd been when he was a child, anxiety ridden and glass hearted.

"Okay!" Yuu announces. "We're gonna practice together!"

Azumane doesn't even get out a response before Yuu is towing him back towards the court, determined to teach this boy the ways of reckless bravery and intense practice.

Yuu doesn't know when or where he lost the plot, but somehow this becomes second nature. He finds himself seeking Azumane out in the hallway, barreling into the larger boy, or towing him behind himself from time to time. He meets Ryu and he meets Kiyoko; the former becomes his friend early on and both boys adamantly say they're crushing on the latter.

It feels like a performance. Yuu knows Kiyoko isn't his soulmate. She's gentle and anxiously soft-spoken, but not in the same way that his soulmate feels like they should be. He doesn't admit that maybe there's this half formed idea about Azumane tucked away in the back of his mind, and everyone is better for it.

He wants to be sure. He has to be.

"I think I should trim my hair soon," Asahi remarks offhandedly one day, when they're leaving practice.

Yuu watches his fingers card through the wavy brown strands, a little contemplative frown fixed on his face. He tries to imagine Asahi with short hair like most of the others, and the image just won't come to mind. Maybe he's biased.

"No way, Asahi-san!" Yuu grins, reaching out to slap the other man on the back. "I think long hair suits you! It makes you look kinda wild, don't you think? It's cool!"

Asahi slouches into himself a little, curling a strand of hair around his finger. He hums noncommittally, allowing the strand to fall away, but he doesn't comment on Yuu's words. He just looks a little more thoughtful.

Yuu is only a little surprised when he really looks at Asahi one day and his hair is just past his shoulders. He's got a little facial hair now, too, and something about it makes him feel more mature, older, like he's finally growing into himself. Yuu takes a running leap onto his back the moment he sees him in practice that afternoon, and Asahi hardly sways beneath him.

The realization settles in; this isn't going to last forever. He won't always be able to be with everyone like this. Asahi has grown and filled out, fitting into the broadness of his shoulders. He's steady and unyielding, and Yuu isn't sure when he started to become something like this.

That pit of anxiety still lingers in his chest. It wavers, sometimes.

They go against Date Tech. Their defeat is crushing and miserable for everyone involved, but when Asahi doesn't call out for the last spike, Yuu feels it like an anchor in the hollow of his chest. It's painful, near suffocating, and he can see the sheer weight of it coming down on Asahi's shoulders. Those negative feelings swirl up into his chest again, fought only by his own fury - fury at Asahi, for not calling for the spike.

Fury at himself, for not retrieving them.

He hates it.

"Why won't you blame me?"

Yuu feels the anger before he witnesses it. This is his confirmation, he's sure. There's no doubt anymore; these emotions living alongside his own are Asahi's. The first time he feels Asahi's anger, it feels cold, like ice in his veins. There's something sad about it, something self-sacrificing, like Asahi wants to shoulder everything and leave nothing to be spared for the rest of them. His fury comes like a wave of ocean water, painful when it enters his lungs.

Yuu turns on his heel. Asahi stands - no, Asahi hunches - in front of him. He looks like he had when Noya had first met him, shoulders curled into himself, back bent like the world itself is coming down on it. Maybe it is, this time. Yuu doesn't know if Asahi has realized that they're soulmates. Yuu doesn't know if Asahi would even accept it.

Asahi doesn't seem to be in a very accepting mood right now, and Yuu is in no mindset for motivation.

They fight. They fight before they're even anything, before Yuu can say anything, before he can even confess to himself that he would have been willing to leave his soulmate behind for Asahi, even if the other boy hadn't ended up being them. He doesn't tell Asahi how he used to be a coward. He doesn't tell him that the reason he works so hard and never stops moving forward is because he'd made a promise to both of them a long time ago.

He doesn't tell Asahi that he's terrified to lose him.

All he knows is that if Asahi's anger is like ice, then his is like flames, raging and all-consuming. All he knows is that he's furious, and he's yelling, and then there's a snap , and suddenly everything goes cold. Asahi's feelings drop to the pit of his stomach and become cold there, and Yuu feels like the tightrope he's been walking has finally given way.

Ryu holds him back, and all he can do is watch Asahi walk away.

He doesn't cry.

Asahi doesn't show up for practice the next day, and his lack of presence doesn't go unnoticed. Yuu corners him in the hall. He feels like this is starting to become a cycle now, arguing and fighting over trivial things. It'd be easy to solve if Asahi just had a little more faith, but Yuu knows better. He knows how Asahi feels too well.

Yuu doesn't care what others think. He bleaches his hair because he thinks it looks cool. When people tell him he's too loud, he gets louder. He refuses to be looked down upon and spoken over. He's been in detention more times than he can count, but it never stops him from repeated offenses.

Yuu doesn't care what others think, but when Asahi walks away from him, it feels final. It feels like the end of something that never began. Nishinoya Yuu never cries.

(The people in the hall that day are silent witnesses to his tears, but nobody says a thing about them.)

Yuu isn't much for thinking, so he spends all of his time in suspension doing, instead. He works and works and works some more, trying not to think of Asahi turning his back on them. On him. All he can do is hope Asahi will come to his senses by the time Yuu is back.

He doesn't. Yuu goes back, and Asahi is still gone, so he leaves again. He loves volleyball, but he won't be a part of it if it means leaving Asahi behind. Asahi may believe that he's unnecessary, but they all know better.

It isn't until he's staring at the broad expanse of Asahi's back again in the practice match that he really realizes, and for the second time, he feels like he's really seeing Asahi. He sees someone who is trying for the people he cares about, someone who is finally learning to try for himself and he thinks that's all I wanted.

They fix the broom together.

"We're soulmates," Yuu tells him, so abruptly that Asahi's surprised flinch dislodges the two pieces again.

Asahi glances down. "I know."

Yuu stares at him. "What."

"I know," Asahi says again, gaze soft and hesitant. "I've known since we met. You aren't exactly quiet about your emotions, y'know. I never said anything because you liked Shimizu. You deserved better than someone like me."

"Asahi-san," Yuu intones, "you're the only person I've ever liked."

"What."

"Oh my god."

When Asahi laughs, it lights up his whole face. Yuu stares for a long moment, watching Asahi's shoulders tremble. He feels Asahi's relief wash over him like a second skin, settling into his bones themselves. The warmth of his joy is like a blanket.

"Well," Asahi says, "I guess we're both a little dumb then, huh?"

"To be fair," Yuu huffs, "I didn't realize till after the Date Tech match."

Asahi laughs again, and Yuu thinks that everything is going to be okay after all. Asahi is finally starting to have some sort of belief in himself, and while Yuu knows his doubt and anxiety won't go away overnight, they're taking baby steps.

And if Ryu and Daichi give Suga and Kiyoko ten dollars each when they admit their newest revelation, then nobody is any the wiser.