Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu! or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.
Chapter 8: Ceaselessly Row On
If time is was what needed to revitalize after Interhigh qualifiers, then Minako had long lost track of it. Just as fast as preliminaries had happened, so had exams, and the student body had no time to reel from Aoba Johsai's heartbreaking loss at the tournament for their attention was swiftly taken away by the equally heartbreaking reality of academia and all its pressures. In a sense, it was kind of good for the writer; being able to take a break from the school paper was what she needed to refocus herself. She didn't even want to think of the stress that she would have been buried underneath if she had to cover the team's progress during exam season if they made it to Nationals.
She only felt slightly guilty for feeling that way.
Minako had buried herself in her textbooks and class notes and almost forgot about the the road to Interhigh prelims. She had hardly even seen Oikawa except for when he would meet up with Iwaizumi during lunch. And from the looks of it, he seemed to have been doing okay. He didn't show otherwise. But if these past few months had told her anything about the determined setter was that he was good showing people exactly what he wanted them to see. But the writer had a feeling, and it was the same feeling she had when she first met the boy.
A moderate handful of exchanges she shared with Iwaizumi told her that, yes, Oikawa took the loss hard but it also seemed to ignite yet another fire in him that even exam prep wouldn't quell; he hadn't stopped practicing since that weekend. She couldn't say she was surprised, or even annoyed really. But it left her with more questions than answers.
Just as quickly as exams had come and gone, Summer had truly arrived in all its uncomfortable, sweltering glory, and Minako soon found herself frequenting cafes blessed with air conditioning and sweet iced lattes whilst ignoring her boisterous best friend's constant complaints of having to suffer through another class of summer school. Instead, she would be staring at her laptop screen and the accursed blinking of her cursor on yet another woefully empty page of a word processor, wondering why it was she even decided to become a writer.
Only one week in.
Ah yes, summers were great.
Minako sighed, running a hand through her messy fringe as she sipped on her second iced latte. What she would do to occupy her time for little over another month she had no idea, if she was already feeling the burnout of writing so soon into vacation. She stared back at her laptop screen and frowned.
The summer writing competition's deadline was just around the corner, and nothing could prevent the acerbic tug at her face when she skimmed through what meager words she powered through for it. Everything about her submission was…dull. It was the perpetual curse that plagued every writer, and Minako was no exception. She had only wished that it would have delayed its arrival till after the deadline.
She didn't even understand the reasoning behind the immense pressure she was putting on herself; she never took these kinds of things to heart. Writing was always something she would love, regardless of accolades or recognition, so she approached every opportunity for it entirely on her terms—for fun, enjoyment, and the pure love of it. She had seen the flyer for it all those weeks ago and decided that maybe she would give it a try, for fun, no strings attached. But then a string had been attached…in the form of one tall, handsome volleyball setter and her brain had started rerouting.
Oikawa's eyes lit up and he grinned, "So, are you going to do it?"
"I'm not sure yet…"
"You should," he said plainly.
"Most of the creative writing I did last year was for the paper…I don't know how well I'd fare in a competition…"
"So?" Oikawa looked at her pointedly, fiddling with the ball in his hands. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't try."
Minako pursed her lips, strumming her fingers lightly on her keyboard. A buzz on the table jolted her out of her thoughts as her hands went to grab the phone vibrating beside her.
"Yes, Matsui, what do you hate today?"
"Everything!" her belligerent best friend screeched.
"Well, that was certainly a jump from yesterday's 'the suffocating societal structure of the academic system'," Minako chuckled.
"I don't understand, I just don't!" Matsui whined.
"I think that's what summer classes are supposed to help with…"
"I'm a fluent Japanese speaker; I'm a native Japanese person! Why do I need to take supplementary classes for Japanese?!"
Minako's brow arched, "Those are the exact reasons you used to not study for the exam. You are getting no sympathy from me."
There was a loud, exaggerated sigh on the other side of the line, followed by a string of colorful curses and unintelligible noises, and then a momentary pause. "Anyway, what about you? How's the first week of vacation been going? Distract me, please, and let me live some sort of joy vicariously through you."
"Well, joy probably isn't the right word…" Minako slumped in her chair.
"Why? Your story getting you down? I thought you were almost done?"
"I am," the writer narrowed her eyes at the laptop screen, "But I'm just…I don't know, not feeling it, I guess?"
"Maybe you just need a change of pace?" Matsui suggested.
"Like what?"
"Do my homework for me!"
"Do you want to learn anything?"
Matsui groaned, "I'm going to die in this classroom, I swear."
"You are never allowed to tell me I'm being too dramatic…" Minako muttered under her breath.
There was another sigh before Matsui spoke up again, "Anyway, I don't know. Maybe try writing something different? Or reading? Or editing? Didn't you say sometimes editing helped tighten your noggin-cap?"
"I don't believe those were my exact words…"
"Well, try them! Or something, because the deadline is soon."
"I know…" Minako sighed. "I guess you're right. Just change it up for a little bit."
"Good!" Matsui chirped. "Now, about my Japanese homework…"
Minako laughed, "Goodbye, Matsui."
She pressed the end button on her call, cutting off Matsui's defiant yelps, before staring back at her laptop. She opened up her documents explorer and scanned the contents of her various folders. She had began to doubt her friend's advice as her spirits diminished even further while looking through her various works, none piquing her interest in the slightest. Till one, buried in one of the folders of her school newspaper folder, caught her eye. Surprised, but also entirely unsurprised, by her train of thought, she stared at the title curiously.
Seijoh Starters Player Spotlight - Oikawa Tooru
Most of her work on the player spotlights had ended up being canceled, much to her dismay. Or rather postponed, as Asana had reassured. Writing and publishing spotlights for all the starters before Interhigh prelims did end up being quite a hassle and near impossible given the time frame they were working with, so her editor had decided to only stick to third year regulars, and had requested Minako to keep what she already had for the second years to use for the following year. 'But things will surely change next year, no? What I've written for them may not age well…' Asana had assured her that things would be figured out, in an effort to placate a feeling of uselessness and time wasted on work that wouldn't even be published—a feeling that Minako honestly didn't even feel. She had only properly written out Oikawa's and Iwaizumi's, anyway.
She continued staring at the document title, finger hovering above her track pad, before hesitantly clicking it and watching it open. She gave it a quick look, finding herself surprised with how much she actually liked what she wrote—a welcome feeling from the dejection she harbored over her creative writing piece for the competition. A thought came to her as she suddenly glanced down at the corner of the screen where the date displayed.
July 19th.
Tomorrow was Oikawa's birthday.
"Hm…" she hummed aloud, tapping her fingers on the table.
With a sudden electric jolt through her body, she picked up the plastic cup of her drink, downing the remains of its contents before beginning to tap furiously onto her keyboard. Nothing much had to be changed, just a few edits here and there.
There was certainly enough time to finish it by tomorrow.
Minako put away a stack of papers in the newspaper club room, glancing around the room once last time for anything missed, before exiting slowly and shutting the door behind her. There was no particular reason for why she found herself in the club room the next day, passing the time dully. She originally had planned to meet Matsui for lunch and offer some relief upon her academically-induced woes only to later find out that she didn't even have a class today.
Or maybe that was the excuse she used to show up at school to meet up with a certain brunette setter that had just finished up a week of summer training camp and would undoubtedly still be occupying the gymnasium for his increased training regimen.
And who's birthday it also happened to be.
…
No…it definitely wasn't that.
Minako strode towards the gymnasium, only wondering what the chaos would have been like earlier in the week when the select few high schools in and around Sendai arrived for their training camp. The gymnasium doors were open as she neared it, held ajar by the doorstop, and Minako heard the familiar squeaks of shoes gliding across hardwood floors and a ball steadily thudding against the ground. She stepped inside, carefully and quietly.
Minako couldn't tell how long Oikawa must have been in there practicing. Unlike normal school hours, or if there there were other formal activities planned, the gym usually remained open during the day over the summer for students to use it as they wished. And based on the way his breath heaved heavily and the sweat that clung onto his clothes, it didn't take much for her to figure that he had probably taken much advantage of that privilege.
And there it was, yet again—that tenacious drive that Minako couldn't quite understand yet simultaneously admired. It was a wonder how this boy managed to find time for anything else since volleyball seemed to consolidate most of it.
The setter turned suddenly, his focus broken for a moment as he heard the girl's footsteps. His mouth opened ajar, surprised, as he stared in confusion.
Minako waved awkwardly, "Uh, sorry to interrupt."
Oikawa ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly. "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting anyone."
"Can you take a break for a moment, spare me some time?" the question came out more timid than she had intended. She disregarded it as she walked closer to the boy.
His eyebrows rose a fraction before grinning, "Sure."
The two walked over to a bench perched to the side of the volleyball net and settled themselves in. Minako could feel the heat emanating from Oikawa in waves.
"How was the training camp?" Minako asked casually after a moment.
"Good. Tiring, hot, but good," he replied, smiling, taking deep inhales as he caught his breath.
"Any interesting schools?"
"They're all interesting—at least they have the potential, with the right training and discipline."
"And Shiratorizawa wasn't there?"
Oikawa scoffed, "No, they train by themselves, on their own grounds—kept in their stables and bred carefully and without interference like the prize horses they are."
There was a brief silence before Minako burst out laughing. Unable to hide her amusement, she turned to Oikawa with an entertained smirk "Wow how colorful, Oikawa-san. Have you given thought to pursuing writing?"
"As if," he guffawed, turning to her with a challenging simper. "But how fun would it be if we were rivals in that, hm?"
"I would, respectfully, destroy you."
"Your confidence is endearing, Sono-chan."
Minako smirked once more. She stared at the expanse of hardwood flooring across the gym, watching as the light from the streaming rays of sunshine reflected off of them. "Interhigh prelims, straight to studying, then exams, right into a week-long intensive camp; that's quite impressive, if I do say so myself."
The setter puffed his chest out slightly, a hint of pride blooming across his expression. "Just the regularly scheduled program of yours truly"
Minako snorted, "And you didn't fail any of your courses?"
"Of course not" he protested. "I get great grades, for your information."
"Sure, sure," the writer gave the boy an incredulous look, if only to relish at the annoyed grimace he shot back. The air stilled as the two became quite for a moment.
"I hope you're giving yourself some time off," Minako said after a while.
"I do what I can," he answered absentmindedly, staring at the girl curiously.
"But not today?"
Oikawa shrugged.
"I mean, it is your birthday," she continued, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small pile of papers neatly stapled together and placed in a folder. She turned to him in her seat and extended her hand. "Happy birthday."
Oikawa blinked, unmoving for a moment. He reached over, gently grabbing the folder, but his brows remained set in its confusion. "What's this?".
"Player spotlights for all regulars turned out to be a more harrowing ordeal than we originally planned, so we stuck to just third years for now," Minako fiddled with the hem of her shorts. "But when that was decided, I had pretty much already finished yours. Rather than wait to publish it next year—because things might change, who knows—I figured I could just give it to you now…"
There was a lingering silence that followed. The air rustling the leaves on the trees outside was almost deafening in comparison. Minako stared down at her lap, awkward and uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden, before snapping herself out of it and glancing back at the setter.
Oikawa was staring down at the folder oddly. His face had softened, but no readable emotion could be extracted from his gaze. He slowly lifted his head, catching the writer's eyes. "Thank you," he breathed.
"You're welcome," she replied loudly, trying to ease the strange quiet that had engulfed the atmosphere. "It was no big deal, really. I mean, I finished Iwaizumi-san's as well, so I'll probably give him his later…"
Oikawa laughed, "Sono-chan, you sure know how to make someone feel special. Surprisingly."
Minako scoffed, "I hardly did anything, dummy."
"Thank you."
Minako looked up him. His gaze was unnervingly steady and firm, as if trying to pry the color right out of her eyes. He smiled, true and genuine— the type that she rarely, if ever, got to see. She looked away quickly and muttered a quiet 'You're welcome', shifting away slightly as if to keep him at bay.
Oikawa laughed again, placing the folder in his lap and stretching his hands above his head, "I guess maybe I should take a break. Today, at least."
Minako nodded, "Yeah, you should. What would happen if you were to injure yourself, hm?" The question came out exactly as blunt as she knew it would. She knew the waters she would treading as soon as she voiced it but that didn't hinder her whatsoever. Minako could sense Oikawa's suspicion suddenly boring into her.
"I can take care of myself."
"Can you? What about that knee?" Minako glanced at him from her side before dragging her gaze to the white material wrapped around his right knee.
The setter didn't reply. His hand went to his knee for a moment, resting it there and strumming his fingers lightly against it. "What about it?"
The writer rolled her eyes, "It doesn't take a genius to figure out what condition in might be in." Except it did…for her, as she remembered that it was Hanamaki and Matsukawa that pointed out his injury in the first place while she simply dismissed it as an aesthetic choice. She chose to leave that particular part out.
Oikawa frowned at her words as his eyes went back to his knee, staring at it disdainfully.
Minako sighed, "Tell me, Oikawa-san—"
"No."
"—What exactly are your goals?"
She ignored his quip and growing agitation as she rummaged through her thoughts. It was something that had been on Minako's mind for quite some time, and one that had just come back to her in the past few seconds. But not one she had intended to voice aloud in this particular moment. From the moment she met him, to the very moment now as she sat beside the famed setter, the duality that she experienced baffled her. It was that strange mixture of his pompous attitude and contemptuousness contradicted with what she saw on the court and what she was seeing now that she wasn't quite able to put her finger on.
"I'm pretty sure I answered this multiple times, or is your brain deteriorating already?" he retorted after a while.
Minako scowled, "Don't make me regret being nice to you."
"Stop asking me these questions then," he chortled airily, though his annoyance could be distinguished.
"Fine," she offered. "Just answer me this, then. You beat Shiratorizawa and Ushijima-san, what then? Where will you go from there?"
"Nationals, obviously," he answered.
"Then what? You win Nationals—what after?"
"I…" Oikawa halted.
"Will you be satisfied with yourself then? Will you have accomplished all your goals?" Minako forced herself to simmer down the intensity of her tone, especially after the kindness she had displayed only minutes ago. The last thing she wanted was to sound confrontational, though she would admit that perhaps she had failed slightly in that regard.
"I can't say that for sure—you can't expect anyone to," his lips twitched into a pout.
Minako wasn't sure what point she was trying to make, if there was any point at all. She supposed it was another one of her efforts to pick apart the brunette who still had her confused after all these months. Was he simply trying to prove that he was the best? Was there even a satisfying enough answer for that? She stared ahead, staying quiet for a while before speaking up suddenly.
"You know, you share a birthday with Alexander the Great?"
"Of course," he replied quietly after a moment with a small chuckle. "I paid attention in World History class."
"Hm…" Minako pursed her lips. " 'Oh, thy son, look thee out to the kingdom equal to and worthy of thy self, for Macedonia is too little for thee.'"
Oikawa shook his head, staring quizzically at the girl. "…What?"
Minako smirked, "Alexander the Great was a legend. That line… 'Macedonia is too little for thee', was said by his father after Alexander tamed his horse, Bucephalus, at only the age of 13."
"Hmph," Oikawa crossed his arms, grunting lowly. "So he was a genius too…"
Minako eyed him carefully before continuing. "Macedonia was far too little for someone as, well, great as Alexander, so he went off and conquered the Persian Empire."
"…Okay, why is any of this relevant?" Oikawa raised his brow pointedly.
"He also had this one-track obsession with pursuing the Persian King for no rhyme or reason other than a sheer desperation to kill him. Like, the guy chased him across two countries just to do so, and in the end he never even got to it because one of the king's generals killed him before he could. Then Alexander pursued that general so he could at least kill him!" She explained further, her hands dancing animatedly in front of her.
Oikawa groaned, "What's your point?!"
Minako took a deep breath. She had to remind herself to breath and be mindful that not everyone had a 24/7 access to the overcrowded mess that was her brain, "Single-minded obsessions, the pursuit of greatness—of something above and beyond—doesn't that sound a a little too familiar to you?" She eyed him exaggeratedly hoping to get whatever point she mustered up across.
Oikawa scowled deep and leaned over, poking the writer harshly on the head, "Stop trying to analyze me, you nerd. It's annoying."
Minako shrugged and swatted his hand away, "I'm just… saying."
"Besides, you're wrong," the setter mumbled, settling back down and crossing his arms against his chest.
"What do you mean?"
"Alexander the Great may not have defeated the Persian King, but he got to defeat the general that did kill him. In the end, he got his victory," Oikawa's face was blank throughout his statement, staring down at the folder still sitting in his lap, devoid of any visible emotion.
Minako chewed the inside of her mouth, fiddling with the strap of her bag. "You know, Alexander the Great was an amazing general, but he wasn't good at sustaining his kingdoms."
Oikawa turned to her, his silence urging her to continue.
"He was great at tearing down empires, but he couldn't really build-up anything in its place—at least one that lasted. Because after his death his empire broke into three separate kingdoms. I mean, his legacy was still carried on despite that, but still…"
"So, what? I have to die to finally get my victory?" Oikawa scoffed.
The writer rolled her eyes, "That's not what I'm saying."
"Please, do explain, because this history lesson is starting to make me wish that I was back in World History class."
"Shirohashi-sensei was the worst, though," Minako groaned.
"Exactly!"
"No, no, I'm just…" Minako paused. What was it she was trying to say? Her own brain was starting to question itself and it wasn't a pleasant idea to come to grips with. "That's why I asked what your goals were, after your victory, I mean. I mean, if all you want to do is conquer for fame and glory, you're not going to have a very lasting empire."
"Fame and glory…" The setter's voice was low, ominous. "Is that was you think this is?"
"Is it?"
There was a pregnant pause. Oikawa's face stared ahead, looking down at his knee briefly before looking back up. He looked…angry. His back was hunched but his form turned rigid. A few deep breaths later he began to relax, but Minako couldn't shake the terrible unease that began to settle in her stomach. He narrowed his eyes, "Your analogies are a far reach, I hope you know."
"Yeah, I figured…" But she didn't. Because the more and more she said it aloud, the more and more she started to realize how true it really could be—scarily so.
The setter grumbled, irritated, "You're annoying, you know that? And I dislike talking to you sometimes."
Minako frowned, though she couldn't blame him; she extended those very same feelings to him the moment they met.
"You have some nerve, you know," he continued with a sigh, running a hand though his messy locks and down the back of his neck. "Coming in here, interrupting my practice time with your haughty history lesson, on my birthday."
Haughty?
"Fine, sorry I bothered," she mumbled, getting up from her seat. As Minako took a step forward, a hand stopped her, grasping onto her forearm. She turned her head slowly and met Oikawa's firm gaze.
"What should I do then?" his voice was soft, barely a whisper. "Not care about winning?"
"No, not at all," Minako replied, matching her tone with his. "But…just really think about what it is you're winning for."
Oikawa remained silent, his eyes never leaving hers. They stayed that way for a moment.
"Don't focus so much on your battles that you work yourself to the ground, either," she added. "It'll only make it easier for your enemies to trample over you."
It was silent again, and Minako could hear her own heart thumping at the intense and awkward—intensely awkward?—exchange. Oikawa didn't move, but his eyes finally trailed away and back down to the folder for a brief second.
"Oh!"
The two of them turned to the gym door at the sound of the voice that suddenly appeared.
Minako blinked as she took in the figure of the girl that had emerged through the doorway, her long blonde hair flowing in the breeze as she smoothed out her sun dress.
'That girl from before…' It had been a while since Minako had seen the mystery blonde girl from their first encounter those weeks ago. She had honestly forgotten about it, but the sudden sound of her voice reminded Minako that it was she that had first told her of Seijoh's rest day on Mondays. So…what was she doing here now?
"Oh, Ito-chan," Oikawa acknowledged.
Minako turned to him, confused, before turning back to face the girl. She noticed the small box the blonde was holding in her hand and the affectionately shy way she was looking at the setter. She turned back to him only to notice him staring back with a passive smile on his face—such a drastic change what what he been merely moments ago.
"Oh, um, I was just leaving," the writer suddenly felt very warm and foolish as she stepped forward again, wiggling out of Oikawa's grasp. His grip tightened and she looked up at him questioningly.
"Thank you, again," he said softly. "I appreciate it, really."
"You're welcome," she mumbled, finally freeing herself from her grasp and shuffling out the gym, feeling the blonde girl—Ito's—gaze on her as she made her exit.
When she got outside she turned back to take one more look in her sudden confusion, watching as Ito approached Oikawa with her hands extended slightly. Minako heard her giggle, a soft and melodic sound, as the smile on Oikawa's face widened and he went to sheepishly rub the back of his head. Minako looked away.
She didn't even realize the aggressive frown that had settled on her face until she neared her house.
Minako stared at her laptop screen, alternating her glances between the word count and flashing of the time at the bottom corner.
She had finished. Oh, she had finished. But the cruel reality of self-imposed doubt and insecurity crushed over her like a tidal wave and she had to frequently pause and stop herself from crying out in frustration.
She tried to rationalize with herself and see whether or not it was humanly possible to rewrite her entire 35,000 word story in a little over an hour so she could make her deadline with some semblance of satisfaction, or submit it as it was and hate everything forever.
Minako grumbled, reminding herself that being as dramatic as Matsui would only spell doom and that was the last thing she needed to do. She looked over to her phone and opened up her messages. The last message she had sent her jovial best friend had gone unread, which meant that Matsui had forgone her plan to stay up all night to study for her quiz and relinquished herself to sleep. Minako had no idea who to talk to. At least one that could help. She glanced at her phone again.
Her brother could be awake still, but he too had quizzes and assignments to finish up before his vacation started.
Asana Tsuyo, her editor for the school paper, was away on family vacation up in Hokkaido, so she was a dud as well.
Did she really not have any more friends?
She scrolled through her dolefully scarce contacts list, passing the time lazily as the deadline ticked ever closer. Her gaze paused at one, still labeled as 'Unknown' and snorted.
As if Oikawa would be any use to her right now. Empty encouragement was the last thing she needed, though the grating setter did have the annoying ability to be blatantly forthright with her.
She closed her phone harshly, tossing it onto her bed and rubbing her eyes. With a resigned sigh and final glance at the time, she began skimming through her work and typing away furiously at various points in an effort to appease whatever sense of dissatisfaction had plagued her over the course of the few weeks she been working away at her story.
And that was all she felt she could do. But it was never enough. Why was nothing ever enough for anyone?
As Minako opened up her email, typing out the formalities for her submission and even attaching her work to the email, some ethereal force of the universe caused her finger to hover over 'SEND', suspended over it as if the nerves of her brain disrupted the signals to the rest of her body. And time only kept ticking away. Her eyes would dart back and forth between the 'SEND' button and the clock, but nothing would cause her hands to do what they needed to do. Minako's heart beat erratically as a familiar anxiety slammed into her, and almost instinctively, she closed her browser and everything along with it, and shut off her computer completely.
Midnight hit. Minako watched her reflection on the laptop screen. Empty. The anxiety washed away, and soon she felt nothing. And it was only after a few minutes—the few minutes signaling the end of the Miyagi Youth Writing Competition's submission period—that the gnawing claws of shame sunk in.
Weeks and weeks of slaving over a plot line and characters all shoved to the dirt as if they were nothing. How demoralizing that even Minako's own confidence in her abilities as a writer weren't enough to submit a simple story for a youth-level competition.
Was this what defeat felt like?
No.
Defeat was when external forces prevailed. This was the writer's own doing.
She never even considered taking the competition seriously until a certain brunette setter encouraged her to do so. But why did his involvement need to mean anything? Did it? Was she trying to prove something? Here Oikawa was, tirelessly pushing towards a goal regardless of his suffered setbacks and Minako was…what was she working towards? Is that was she was trying to prove? That success can happen without pushing one's self to injury?
She barked out a mirthless laugh.
She didn't even submit her story, who was she to say anything. Success was menial to someone like her, and maybe that's why it was so easy to shut down her laptop without a second thought. With a final shake of her head she threw herself onto her bed, burying her head into her pillow and letting out a long, frustrated groan, hoping with desperate force that sleep would consume her quickly before the guilt did.
"So, what now?"
"What now? You pass this test and then you're done with summer school. Be thankful this was the only class you failed, otherwise your entire summer would be gone."
"I did not fail! I merely had a less-than-average performance!"
"Which is failure."
"That is not failure!" Matsui hissed, leaning back against her chair. "Besides, I was talking about your story."
Minako blinked. It was yet another sweltering day as she and her friend had settled into the divine air-conditioned local library. Minako knew her offer to help Matsui study for her final summer school exam would have been accepted immediately, if mostly as an excuse to gossip and complain as she typically did. Minako also knew that telling her friend about her woefully demeaning few hours of anxiety leading to her decision to not submit her story would forever be held over her. But she told her anyway. Minako couldn't yet decide if that was a mistake or not.
"What else is there to do but ceaselessly row on?" Minako resolved, frowning slightly. All this talk about failure to her best friend sounded far more patronizing in retrospect than she wanted considering the hypocrisy of it all.
Matsui deadpanned.
"I chose not to submit it. There's nothing else to do about it now but move on," the writer fiddled with the hem of her shirt, but returned her friend's gaze firmly.
"Why?" Matsui asked. "Because you're afraid of rejection?"
Minako bristled, "Why is the conversation becoming about me? You're the one with with the exam tomorrow, so focus and answer your practice questions!"
The bright-haired girl grimaced, grumbling to herself as she turned back to her papers.
Minako shook her head, leaning forward onto the table and resting her weight on her forearms. Her phone buzzed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day and she groaned to herself as she pulled out the device. He was relentless, she thought as she glanced at the messages, all of which she chose not to reply to for the sake of her own sanity.
[From: Unknown
To: Minako]
2:34PM
Sono-chaaaan~ How did the competition go?
[From: Unknown
To: Minako]
2:40PM
Did you submit it early?
[From: Unknown
To: Minako]
3:00PM
Sono-chan! ;_;
[From: Unknown
To: Minako]
3:25PM
Are you ignoring me on purpose?
[From: Unknown
To: Minako]
3:45PM
Did you block me?!
[From: Unknown
To: Minako]
3:58PM
You are SO RUDE, you know that?! Just answer me, please! One word, that's all—
Minako shut off her phone with an irritated sigh.
"Okay, already. I'm done," Matsui sniped, handing over her work to Minako. "No need to be so grumpy."
"It's not you," Minako assured weakly, glancing at her phone once more before looking over Matsui's work.
She didn't know what to even say to the insistent setter. She had settled with nothing anything, willing her silence to subdue her guilt. For a while she was certain that he had forgotten about it—hoping he'd forgotten about it. As large of a space as volleyball took in the boy's brain, he still managed to weasel it out of his memory and bombard her with requests for updates. So silent she remained, for the last thing she wanted was his judgment over her cowardice.
Was that was it was? Cowardice? The fear of rejection, as Matsui had mentioned earlier? Minako was not what someone would describe as cowardly. Her straightforward and blunt nature didn't allow for such things, and all things considered it was usually her that incited cowardice in others. Yet here she was, unsure and apprehensive with how to face someone who was honestly of no relevance to her whole ordeal yet somehow managed to wedge himself in regardless. Him and his stupid, coiffed hair and nonchalant yet teasing grin—a visage of true monstrosity that truly haunted her every thought.
"Good work," Minako noted plainly, handing back Matsui's work. "Your kanji still needs some work, but you'll be fine for the exam."
"The zombie apocalypse could break out, and kanji will still be the death of me."
"Maybe you could use it to kill the zombies," Minako replied absentmindedly, occasionally peeking glances at her phone. "Listen, I should go now."
"Oh, right!" Matsui's eyes lit up. "Your brother is coming home today, isn't he?"
Minako nodded before her head shot up, eyes catching her friend's cheery gaze in a stern warning, "But give him a few days to relax before you waltz in and declare your ever-burning presence. He's still scared of you and your aggressive crush on him."
"Formerly aggressive crush, thank you very much!" Matsui pouted as the two stood up and gathered their belongings.
"Formerly or not, he's still traumatized, so go easy whenever you see him, okay?" The writer giggled, falling into step with her best friend as they exited the library.
After parting ways, Minako trekked home as planned. As soon as she arrived and opened the front door, the sound of soft voices reached her ears—her father's low, deep voice accompanied by her brother's nearly identical one, if only a few pitches higher. She slowly entered the main room and smiled at the sight of them, sitting on the couch and conversing casually.
"Okaeri," she said with a smile.
Koichi turned to her, his mop of dark hair rustling with the motion. He grinned wide, which slowly dissipated into an acerbic pout. "I was expecting a more enthusiastic welcome, honestly. Where's the slow run into a jump-hug?"
"I'm not five," she stated matter-of-factly.
"You didn't even do that when you were five…"
Their father laughed suddenly, quiet but enough to make his chest rumble gently. Minako grinned, glad to see the two back in the same room, and soon joined in with a small laugh of her own.
"Welcome home, nii-san."
A/N: In celebration of Haikyuu season 4 coming out soon, let's try and get back on this story? Yeah? Yeah? (I'm the worst, I know)
I'm trying to get my groove back. In both writing and Haikyuu, so please bear with me. As usual. There's lot to unpack from my brain. Also...I'm a writer with writer's block writing a writer with writer's block. I mean...that's the level of elegance we're dealing with here. I'm, still, the worst.
Big shoutouts to angelcarstairs4679, SumCheeze, Nea-Nyx, TheListlessWriter, and Guest for your reviews! And thanks to all of you who have favorited and followed (over 75 and 100 respectively! Wowie, thank you thank you thank you!)