Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu! or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.
Chapter 3: Honesty Is The Best Policy
"We have some strong first-years this year, so that should definitely add an interesting dynamic."
"I'm honored to be captain this year, and hopefully my strength can help build the team even further and bring us to nationals."
"Practice hard, take care of yourself, and look out for your teammates—very basic rules, but when done correctly, are the most the effective."
"We lost out last year, but this year we'll definitely make nationals!"
"Hit it until it breaks, which is easy for me since I'm great at serves, no?"
"I want to make nationals this year with everyone, and show Miyagi prefecture that Aoba Johsai is a force to be reckoned with."
"Build a strong team, together."
"Improve our defensive skills as a cohesive unit."
"Hopefully impress some cute girls…"
"I'm always a winner, though."
"Let's make—"
"Let's make—"
"Let's make—"
"Let's make—"
"Let's make—"
"—nationals!"
Minako's eyes continued scanning through the bulk of her writing while picking at her bento. It was lunch time, and while most students used the opportunity to leave the classroom and mingle with their friends, Minako used the time to leaf through her recent work in an effort to turn it into some sort of an orderly news piece.
She sighed as she flipped through her notebook. A product of her clumsy footing in uncharted territory, Minako could tell her process and interviews were unrefined and clustered. It was a mess of words, phrases, observations—to compile this into a coherent piece of work was going to require some elegant maneuvering on her part. Everyone gave decent interviews, for the most part. They weren't the most thoughtfully eloquent bunch, many of their goals and ideas never straying too far from each others', but she supposed that was a good thing; clear, distinct, and to the point—it made working towards their victories that much simpler. And writing about it less complicated. Or so she thought.
However, every time her eyes trailed towards the words Oikawa spoke the distaste on her features grew. He was just as irritating as she figured he would be, Minako thought, as she remembered catching him after practice the previous day to conduct his short interview.
The Previous Day
Oikawa walked up to the girl as everyone finished up their individual clean-up duties.
Minako was busy scribbling down last minute notes as she noticed a shadow slowly loom over her.
"Yahoo, Sono-chan! I'm ready for my interview." Oikawa grinned, waving to her.
Minako frowned, "I'm the one who gets to decide that…" She cleared her throat before patting the spot beside her where she sat on the upstairs portion of the gymnasium, and Oikawa happily planted himself there.
"Alrighty. Hello, name is Oikawa Tooru. I like volleyball, milk bread, going on early morning runs—"
"Okay, this isn't a dating profile," Minako shook her head exasperatedly.
"Fine, go ahead then," he pouted, gesturing for her to continue.
Minako made a face before clearing her throat again. "So, Oikawa-san, what are your goals for the new year?"
"To make nationals, of course."
"And thoughts on the new roster?"
"Hm, we have some strong additions this year on top of our regular starters, and our defense has gotten stronger."
"And how do you feel the team needs to change in order to readjust to the new additions?"
"We don't need to change. As the setter I can accommodate to them accordingly."
"…Just you?" Minako arched a brow challengingly.
Oikawa grinned, a sly glint in his eyes. "What can I say, I'm a good setter."
Minako rolled her eyes, ignoring the haughty air to his answer, but before she could start on her next question, Oikawa piped in again, softer and gentler.
"It's not a difficult challenge, not really. I believe in our team, there's nothing we can't adjust to."
"Right…" The girl eyed him carefully. It was the simplest of answers, yet the candor behind it seemed to hold so much more weight. "…Okay…. Last year you were beaten by Shiratorizawa Academy, for both Interhigh and the Spring Nationals," Minako ignored Oikawa's obvious forehead vein that popped irritably at the mention. "What do you think needs to be worked on in order to overcome that this year?"
Oikawa frowned, "We just need to get stronger, tighten up our defense and be more aggressive with our attacks, and work on utilizing our plays to overcome Ushiwaka's monstrous strength." His teeth grit.
"Ushi…waka…?"
"Uh, Shiratorizawa, I mean."
"Um…okay. Any other teams that have caught your attention so far?"
"Hm…Johzenji has a strong first-year roster, I'm excited to hopefully play them this year. Date Tech should be interesting, too."
"Okay," Minako's hand moved swiftly across the page of her notebook. "Even though the year has just begun, you're already in consideration for becoming captain next year. What are your thoughts on that?"
"Oh, well," he chuckled softly. "I'm honored that the senpais trust me to lead the team after they leave. I'll do my best to bring out the best in them, and work harder myself so I don't bring them down."
"And what do you feel is your greatest weakness that you need to work on?"
"Weakness?" He ponders for moment, as if stumped, before giggling to himself. "Well, I have none."
"…Eh…?"
"I work to become better and eliminate those weaknesses," he said with a casual air of indifference. "It's what great players do."
Minako fought the urge to fling her pen at him, before taking a deep breath and continuing, making a point to forget the strange look that overtook the boy's face.
Present
But somehow, she couldn't forget that look. Not entirely.
The interview continued as such; a strange amalgamation of thoughtful and motivating words mixed in with the usual cockiness and ego-filled twaddle that she expected from a guy like him. And he was being completely honest—there didn't seem to be a shred of insincerity in any of his words. But her thoughts kept dancing around curiously. That one line, she remembered, did stand out to her.
"I work to become better and eliminate those weaknesses."
She didn't think much of it at the time, and he said it so casually that it just seemed like another overconfident statement. But she caught his eyes as those words left his mouth; despite the nonchalant tone it was conveyed in, his eyes visibly narrowed and hardened. Even a few moments after that question, as annoyed as Minako was, she couldn't help but notice the slight rigidity that encompassed Oikawa's toned form. His face had gone serious—almost scarily so—and his jaw was tight. It was an interesting sight, to say the least, as opposed to the usual cheeriness or smugness that he usually exhibited. She didn't doubt the credibility of his words, though she found that there was a lot more to them than what was presented on the surface. It triggered an inquisitiveness that she knew she would find hard to ignore. That all, however, soon evaporated as Minako continued with her questions, and suddenly Oikawa was back to the smiley, self-absorbed schmuck that he was.
'What's up with this guy…' She was simultaneously aggravated and confounded by him. His entire personality seemed to contradict itself, but beyond that base thought Minako couldn't gather anything else. Granted, it had only been a handful of days since she actually met him, and she presumably had the whole next two years to continue being aggravated and confounded by him. The thought annoyed her, but she couldn't help but want to sate her curiosity…
"Writing about Oikawa-kun?"
Minako glanced up and saw Matsui slide over next to her, opening up her bento and peeking over her shoulders.
"The volleyball team," she corrected, "which includes Oikawa-san, yes."
Matsui giggled before taking a bite of her food, "So, what do you have so far?"
"Standard stuff," the writer muttered, penning down various notes and markings on the pages.
"What about Oikawa-kun, though?"
Minako straightened out in her chair, "What about this guy are you so in love with?"
"Eh?" Matsui paused to give the other girl a confused stare, "I'm not in love, but I mean, what's not to like?"
"Plenty."
"He's…really talented, kind to his fans, handsome…He works harder than any other athlete I've seen or known."
Minako furrowed her brows. She didn't doubt any of those words—even, begrudgingly, the handsome part—but she also doubted that her friend, and most of his fans, saw anything more beyond that. Though Minako couldn't say much of it, either; the few times she had interacted with him had shown that he's more infuriating than people think…on top of the strange way he acts and projects himself. Something just did not seem right, and Minako knew that beyond the surface lay far much more—for better or worse, though, she couldn't quite tell.
"He…he's kind of an ass, though. Full of himself, arrogant, self-absorbed…" Minako said absentmindedly.
"Well, to someone like you, sure," Matsui laughed in between mouthfuls of food. "But just observe him more carefully—I'm sure you'll see a lot of light underneath your veil of judgmental tendencies."
"Wow, Matsui, maybe you should take my place as a writer. And besides, what do you mean 'someone like me'?"
"I mean you have a habit of jumping to conclusions and seeing the worst in people," the girl chuckled, patting Minako affectionately on the back. "Give him a chance, I'm sure you'll find yourself being surprised."
"I did, and he didn't make a very good first impression," the dark-haired girl's mouth twisted into a frown, thinking back to the first interaction they had in the infirmary the previous week.
"People say the same thing about you, though with admittedly more, er, colorful words…"
Minako scoffed, "Touché."
Matsui grinned in victory, "Seriously, just…keep yourself open-minded. And don't hyper-analyze everything."
"Yeah, yeah…"
"I know you've already started—I can see it in your grumpy face."
"…"
"Oh!" Matsui leaned in close to the writer's face and scowled exaggeratedly, "And don't go falling in love, either. Girls already envy you—heck, I envy you!—but that would just be the beginning of a witch-hunt."
Minako's face turned surly as she lightly smacked her friend away, "I'm the writer here, idiot, so why is it that you have the more hyper-active imagination?"
Matsui relented and held up her hands in defense, "Sorry, sorry. But…keep that in mind."
"Tch, honestly…"
The bell rung loudly, the lunch period coming to an end and students beginning to fill up the classroom. Minako packed away her barely-eaten bento and notebook and prepared to tackle the rest of the day whilst ignoring the wheels in her head turning from various thoughts and an endless supply of questions and officiousness.
…She only hated whom it was all about.
Needless to say it was an unproductive afternoon—she didn't remember a single thing she had learned in any of her classes.
Minako yawned as she made her way to the school's newspaper club room the next day, after having spent the better part of the previous evening compiling, revising, and properly writing a semi-decent introduction article for the Aoba Johsai boys' volleyball team. She only resented that it was merely semi-decent, still feeling like a baby when it came to writing about sports, but she included as much info from the players themselves, and when it came to her own thoughts she wrote it as earnestly and honestly as she could. Perhaps it was more ballsy than she originally intended…but she would at the moment, however, leave all final judgments to Asana Tsuyo, who was waiting in the room that morning with a anticipatory grin on her face.
"Glad to see you're taking your new role so seriously, Sonozaki-san," she said happily.
"Well, what else can I do?" Minako shrugged and handed the assistant editor her copy of the article.
It had been around a week since Minako had received the ill-news of her creative writing column being cut, and subsequently being given the position as the new volleyball columnist. She had used the week to come to terms with that ghastly idea, despite a few reasons deterring her away from it…Her uncertainty, however, still lingered. She brushed off her thoughts as she focused on Asana, who began reading the article excitedly.
…
…
It was only a few minutes in when Minako noticed the fellow second year's face transition through a varying range of emotions, from excitement and contemplation to dismal and horrified. Minako didn't know whether she found it comical or concerning…
"What the…" Asana trailed off, eyes widening as her eyes continued down the article. "What…what is this?!"
Minako's breath bated, and she firmly reminded herself—as the assistant editor looked up at her, a mixture of furious disbelief and utter shock—that it was Asana's very words that told her to be herself in her writing. She decided, as much as she was sour about her new position, her essence was something she would not forsake; she would take this new, unwanted position, and place her mark on it regardless. In the end it was her words that would be published, to be read by many—there was no use in taking half-measures, or in being fake.
"It's my article," Minako stated tightly.
"I can see that!" Asana spat. She looked back at the papers incredulously.
"What's the problem? I thought you said I could add opinions? And that I shouldn't change anything? Be myself?" Minako tried hard to make herself come off as genuine, though she couldn't help the confrontation in her tone.
"That doesn't mean insult the star player!"
Minako blinked—so, the editor had gotten to her part about Oikawa…
"'Egregiously off-putting?!" Asana continued. "'Self-absorbed, cocky, arrogant, and an ego even larger than Japan itself?! Nothing more substantial than a pretty face?! How anyone puts up with him is a miracle in and of itself'?!" She stuttered in between sentences, her fingers curling into the papers with such intensity that the edges began to crumple.
"I'm saying things as it is," Minako replied simply, though she had to admit that perhaps her ire had gotten the better of her.
Asana stood up from her desk and opened her mouth to release her fury, but abruptly stopped and regained her composure. "This is NOT how a sports article is supposed to be written, Sonozaki-san! It's supposed to be informative, not defamatory!" Asana took a deep breath and sat back down. "What is even more outlandish is that amidst all these…opinions…you also added in that he cares about his team, he's a hard worker, he takes his sport seriously and has a drive and determination to be admired by all…Do you hate this guy or respect him?!"
"I respectfully hate him."
"Sonozaki-san!"
"Again, I'm saying things as it is," Minako sighed, wanting to flee the scene at the next possible moment.
Asana grumbled and rubbed her temples, "I appreciate your...audacity, Sonozaki-san; journalists need some measure of that. But you can't go around slandering players just because you don't favor them."
"It's not slander, Asana-san. It's honesty."
"Which I appreciate," Asana emphasized the word with constraint, "but there is a certain standard to be met, and this is crossing the line far too much."
Minako sighed heavily, "You can pull me off the column, I won't mind. I'm sure there are…better fits."
Asana looked at her, an air of surprise coloring her face. She sighed, "Despite the bumps, Sonozaki-san, this article is still good. You write with clarity, emotion, and earnest, and it's a good change of pace from simple, cold-hard facts and observations. I'll…have to edit this, of course, but aside from that everything is okay."
The dark-haired girl quirked her brow, "Really? Despite my grievances with…him."
"You're a good writer, Sonozaki-san, and I'd like to keep you and your talent with us. That, and it's either you or the slew of first years that only want the position because of him." Asana starting penning down corrections and markings on the article. "Besides," she continued, "your grievances with him are unwarranted. For someone that values honesty, you sure do jump to a lot of conclusions."
Minako bridled herself with a simple scowl, sourly noting how her words reminded her of Matsui's earlier.
"The article isn't very technical, either. That's okay for an introduction. But you'll need to start writing about the games itself soon, so I hope you're getting used to all the rules and such." Asana looked up her pointedly.
"I'm working on it…"
"And you have the entire team, as well as archived video footage, and the internet at your disposal. You should make use of them."
"Yes, ma'am."
Asana sighed, "You really have some nerve, don't you?" The question was more of a denouncement, though the playful tone it took informed Minako that she was still on good terms with the assistant editor.
"It's all I have," Minako retorted.
"Well, let's utilize it more effectively, hm?" Asana waved the article in front of her face with a small smile. "Okay, head to class. I'll only make…necessary edits."
Minako gave a curt nod and bid the other girl farewell before heading off for the start of classes, pondering on her thoughts for a moment. She knew her article was ballsy, and a majority of her knew that there was no way Asana would give it the green-light without removing all those…remarks.
Yet still…she couldn't help but admit that writing them was strangely and blissfully therapeutic.
The bell rung, students sighing in relief as their mid-day lunch break came to start. Matsui waved a hasty goodbye to Minako as she dashed off to the art room to work on some of her individual projects, leaving Minako at her desk with her own lunch, alternating her glances between a blank sheet in her notebook and the volleyball starter that sat near her.
As Iwaizumi stood up, bento in hand, Minako hesitantly called out to him.
"Um, excuse me, Iwaizumi-san?"
The boy paused and turned around, giving the girl a questioning look.
"I was…I was wondering if you'd do me a favor now? I'm still trying to get a hold of all these rules and positions for volleyball…it's a bit much to take in, honestly," Minako said softly, looking away uneasily.
Iwaizumi's eyebrows arched slightly, "Oh, sure thing, Sonozaki-san." He made his way over and plopped himself down on a chair beside her, setting his lunch down on his lap. "What can I help with?"
"Um…" Minako tapped her pen against the desk. "Well…everything? Basic rules I think I got…so, I guess positions? And their importance?"
The spiky haired boy chuckled, "Uh, okay, no problem. Well, let's start off with—"
"Iwa-chan~!"
Minako jolted at the sound of the unpleasantly sweet voice that rung with familiar clarity throughout the room, quickly followed by hushed whispers and squeals from almost every girl in the vicinity.
"Oh, are we having lunch here?" Oikawa asked, walking over to the two of them.
"Mm, Sonozaki-san wanted some volleyball help."
"Oh, I can help too!" Oikawa grinned, holding up a peace sign, and pulling over a chair by Minako's desk and making himself comfortable.
Minako glowered up at the boy, who merely grinned in response.
"Why do you always look so angry, Sono-chan? You're going to get premature wrinkles," Oikawa shrugged as he opened up his bento. "By the way, your bruise is looking much better."
"Eh…" Minako's hand instinctively went up to touch the discolored area of her face. She had spent the better part of the weekend with an ice-pack taped to her face, and the past few days have given time for the swelling to reduce. Her once blue and black bruise had started turning into a slight green as it underwent the slow process of its healing. Although the judgmental whispers about the incident had stopped, people's wild imaginations still, however, continued running alongside the idea that she and Oikawa had some sort of scandalous relationship going on. It was rather nonsensical, and infinitely infuriating. She figured that the bruise would remain for next week or so; a lovely reminder as to her seemingly perpetual dread.
"Shut up, Trashykawa, you're the one that gave it to her in the first place," Iwaizumi muttered.
"Why must you insult me in the process?!"
Minako held up her hands, "Just forget about it, please! Anyway…volleyball positions…?"
"Right," Iwazumi nodded towards Oikawa, "I was going to explain positions to her."
"Oh!" Oikawa's eyes lit up. "Well, I can start. The most important position is, of course, the setter."
Minako looked at the boy, an unimpressed veil over her face. "Of course. And you're the setter."
"Exactly!"
"So, what does the setter do then?"
"The setter, as the name suggests, is the person that set-ups the offense," Iwaizumi started. "His tosses allow for hitters to score points—so yes, it is technically the most important position for a team, but don't let Oikawa's gloats make you think he's more important than he actually is."
"Rude!"
Minako nodded her head, vigorously penning down the notes on her sheet of paper. "So…when the ball is on your side of the court, you're allowed three hits. The first two hits are the set-up, with the second hit being for the setter, and the third is the the scoring point?"
"Yep!" Oikawa beamed.
"But," Iwaizumi added, "You don't necessarily need to attack in three hits. Sometimes the first hit can go over the net, usually giving your opponent a chance ball. Or sometimes the second hit, usually done by the setter, can be used to push the ball over the net—called a dump."
"Oh…kay…" Minako continued jotting down her notes, fingers starting to cramp slightly and mind swimming underneath all the jargon being thrown at her.
"The ball can be hit by any player in any order, though—except you can't hit it twice in a row—so don't take these as firm rules," Iwaizumi explained. "It is the most common, though."
Oikawa chuckled and leaned forward, "But you'll get used to all of it the more you watch, so just keep watching me, okay?"
Both Minako and Iwaizumi grimaced, before the latter cleared his throat.
"Back to positions…"
"And the second most important position is the ace!" Oikawa interrupted.
"Oi, that's hardly a position," Iwaizumi muttered, smacking the setter lightly on the head.
Minako watched the two's lighthearted interaction and couldn't help the amused expression on her face. She cleared her throat and continued, "So…what's the ace? Shouldn't he technically be the most important player? It's called 'ace' after all…"
Iwaizumi gave her a slight, sheepish smile, "Ace isn't a position, just simply a title. Usually for the strongest offensive player—"
"—And that's our Iwa-chan!"
Iwaizumi shot Oikawa an aggravated glare before turning back to Minako, "And that's all to it, really. Don't get that confused with 'service ace', which just means a serve that lands without getting hit properly by the opponent."
"Oh…okay…?" Minako's notes looked like a discombobulated mess, trying to keep the main focus on points about positions but adding in between margins and to the side all the other terms being thrown at her. It felt like she was learning an entirely new language.
"Ehh…Sono-chan," Oikawa leaned towards her, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, and poked her gently on the forehead. "Are you confused already? I thought you were a quick learner?"
Minako scowled and swatted Oikawa's hand away. He laughed heartily before taking a bite of his food.
"After setter, we have our wing spikers—which sounds exactly as it is; spikers at the wings of the offensive zone. They usually attack the ball after the setter tosses it to them," Iwaizumi continued, ignoring Oikawa's annoyances. "Though they can play from the back row as well. Wing spikers are usually well-rounded, since they handle all means of plays—attacking, passing, blocking, serving, and the lot."
"Oh…wow, okay." Minako continued her scribbles.
"For reference, Iwa-chan is one of our wing spikers. Aces usually are," Oikawa gave Iwaizumi a jubilant pat on the back, who grunted in response. "Then there's middle blocker. Those guys are, well, blockers and are needed to stop the other team's offense. They usually form a wall in the front row to stop the ball, like this," Oikawa flailed his hands in front of him, a poor demonstration of his explanation, which did absolutely nothing to aid Minako in her understanding.
Iwaizumi sighed exasperatedly and continued, "Middle blockers usually don't spend time in the back row, unless they're serving or right after they serve and are receiving. Their specialty is blocking the ball as soon as it's attacked by the other team, rather than back row defense. When the rotation moves them to the back, they're usually switched out and replaced by the libero."
"Okay…front row…blocking…back row defense…after serve…libero…okay," Minako nodded her head, motioning for the boys to continue.
"The libero is the strongest defensive player on the team, and usually the smallest, too," Oikawa started. "They're back row players that are responsible for receives, from the opposing servers especially, and passing."
"They can only remain in the back row?" Minako queried.
"Mhm," Iwaizumi nodded his head, "and they're not allowed to serve, usually. Standard rules. Because they're back court specialists, they replace middle blockers when the middle blockers rotate to the back. And, when the libero rotates to the front, the middle blockers come in and replace them."
"Liberos are quick and have great reflexes, and you can tell who they are because they wear a different colored jersey," Oikawa added.
"And those are essentially the main positions. There's also pinch servers, but those are just guys that have strong serves and are usually added in to change the momentum of a game."
"Pinch server, makes sense." Minako nodded. Her hands were starting to ache from the way her pen pressed aggressively onto the paper as the two boys made their explanations. In the end, everything they explained about the positions made sense, yet it still made Minako's head swim. There really was more to volleyball than just…well, hitting a ball over the net (though that was the primary objective, she reminded herself, despite the nitty gritty).
"But just to clarify," Iwaizumi mentioned, "in terms of positions, nothing is really set in stone—it's hard to do so with a rotating system. The aim, obviously, is to score points, so the challenge lies with being able to set up your plays to maximize the best use of the players in the current rotation against the opponents."
"Wow…nice."
"Got it?" Oikawa looked at her, a mixture of pride and smugness.
The girl ignored the urge to slap the expression off his face, "Yes, I think so…"
"Don't worry too much about the details," Iwaizumi added lightly, leaning back in his chair and smiling. "The more games you watch the more you'll pick up on it."
Minako inclined her head towards the calm wing spiker, "Thank you, Iwaizumi-san."
"Anytime."
"Hey, what about me?!" Oikawa's voice rose in indignation.
Minako turned to him and narrowed her eyes, "Yes, you too, Oikawa-san."
The smug visage appeared again and formed into a sly grin, "So remember, just watch me and you'll learn in no time, okay?"
The writer arched a brow, "Eh, why should I watch you when I could be watching the ace? He is, after all, the strongest offensive player, no?"
Oikawa gripped the edges of her desk, mouth twitching irritably, "I-I'm strong, too! Iwa-chan is good, but I'm on a completely different level!"
"Oi," Iwaizumi turned to the setter, his demeanor suddenly firing up and shooting the boy a dark glower.
"Besides," Minako continued, over-exaggerating her nonchalance and shrugging her shoulders. She was poking the bear, and she knew it. But the words just came out, like a bad case of food poisoning…It was hard to hold back. "How can you consider yourself a stronger player when you couldn't even control your serve enough to not hit a bystander off-court?"
"Wh-what…?!" Oikawa seethed, jolting off his seat and pointing a shaky finger at her furiously. "Some nerve you have saying that when you don't know anything about the game…! You…all you do is write words on a piece of paper!"
"What?!" Minako's face burned as she pushed her chair back and stood off with the setter. "Writing requires just as much finesse as running around a court hitting a ball, you ingrate!"
The handful of occupants remaining in the classroom had gotten deathly silent, and an acerbic stillness had enveloped the area. Girls gawked with eyes as wide as dinner plate, and the boys looked like they had just struck a gold mine, grinning wildly at the two bickering teenagers. Iwaizumi simply sighed.
"Maybe you should pull that pen out of your butt and you won't look like you're sucking on a lemon all the time!"
"Y-Y-You asshole! All you are is gassed-up jock and a pretty face and no substance! I bet if your fangirls actually talked to you for more than a few seconds, they would lose brain cells!"
"Oh?" Oikawa's eyes darkened shrewdly and he shot her a wicked grin. "So you think I'm pretty?"
Minako's face felt like burst into flames, her eyes blazing with red-hot hysteria, "You useless, arrogant, son of a bi—!"
"Okay, okay. Enough, you two," Iwaizumi, after a long pause and deciding that it was in everyone's best interest to halt the two teenagers' verbal wrestling match, stood up from his seat and in between the two. He pushed Oikawa away with a slight shove on the chest, and turned to Minako to place a hand on her shoulder gently. "Oikawa's a real shitty guy—"
"Why are you insulting me?!"
"—but don't let him grate your nerves," Iwaizumi finished, throwing the girl a sympathetic look.
The bell rang, offering some solace to the suffocation that engulfed the room, and kids slowly started trickling back to their designated areas and seats. Oikawa and Minako remained a few more moments, glowering heatedly at one another and breathing heavily, before Oikawa huffed and stuck his chin in air.
"I'll see you at practice, Iwa-chan," Oikawa nodded in Iwaizumi's direction before giving one final glare to the girl. "See you later, Sono-chan."
"See you later, Oikawa-san," Minako snarled back.
Iwaizumi sighed as he shooed his friend out the door and made his back to his own seat, glancing at the girl dubiously. "If he annoys you that easily, you're going to have one hell of a time being our regular columnist."
"Oh, I don't doubt that," the girl sat back in her seat harshly and placed her notebook into her bag while pulling out another, smaller, worn-out notebook.
It was her personal journal, though one she had admittedly disregarded for quite some time. Personal journal entries were scarce, but she used it usually whenever she needed to vent or get something dire off her chest.
…And, for some more other...childish tendencies.
She opened up to the most recent blank page and shoved her pen down, applying excessive force and forming in harsh, all-capital letters:
OIKAWA TOORU IS A GLORIFIED ASSHAT.
Therapeutic, she thought, but short-lived. Minako breathed a calming breath, ignoring the few seconds of her revert back to elementary-school immaturity. She closed the book, shoving it back into her bag and shutting her eyes for a moment to collect herself.
'Honesty…is the best policy…Honesty…
…
I honestly hate that no-good, insolent jerkwad.'
A/N: Hello, welcome to Volleyball 101, where a basketball fan tries to explain volleyball. Fun fact: I had contemplated making this a Kuroko No Basuke fic, simply because I know so much more on basketball than volleyball. But I love Oikawa way too much, and I had this story idea with him in mind. Also, funnily enough, I played volleyball all throughout elementary and middle school (albeit not very seriously, and I wasn't all that good), but I don't recall actually formally learning any of the rules or terminology...
Anyway, hope you all enjoyed it. I enjoyed having two people throwing immature insults at each other. I intended for this chapter to come out earlier, but I got hit with sickness. The whole family did. T'was fun. And it might be some time before the next chapter; I have a lot of edits and rewrites that need to be done. And on top of some other writing projects I'm working on, real life shenanigans, and potential travel plans, I may have to slow things down a tad bit so I don't go crazy.
Thanks to all the new folks who followed and favorited. And a BIG thanks to jungkookies, Lady Syndra, AstarteLuna, curlystruggle, and showichi for the lovely reviews! You're all seriously awesome. I'm glad people are taking a liking to Minako. She has her flaws, but she's fun :)