Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu, only original characters.

Chapter 3: All's Well That Ends Well

For the next few days, they practiced at Mrs. Inoue's. Mrs. Inoue was from the neighborhood housewife association and taught volleyball at grade school. She had a net installed in her backyard for her two boys, who were also in grade school and were just picking up the sport. Haruka recognized her; she was the one who slammed—spiked, she'd never get used to the term—the ball on the first day she saw Nishinoya.

Sunday was their last session. Volleyball practice wouldn't start until Wednesday for Nishinoya, but Haruka had track tomorrow.

"Don't tire Kobayashi-chan out, Nishinoya-kun!" Mrs. Inoue said with her arms crossed as they showed up at her front door.

"Sorry for intruding!" Nishinoya said. He had the courtesy to scratch the back of his head in slight embarrassment at Mrs. Inoue's comment.

"Sorry for intruding, and thanks for asking, Mrs. Inoue. I'm alright." Haruka took off her trainers and bowed. She saw Nishinoya relax a little at that.

After Haruka fell off the bench, Nishinoya came up with the solution of practicing at Mrs. Inoue's house, two blocks away from his own. Promising not to be of inconvenience, Nishinoya had brought his own equipment and even his own volleyball.

With more time on Sunday, Haruka and Nishinoya had gone for a run before arriving at the Inoue residence. They'd traveled through the neighborhood throughout the week—turning left of Sakanoshita until they reached the riverbank, along the foot of the hill on the other side, up a steeper incline by the shrine. Nishinoya pointed out country trails to Haruka, which they didn't have time for, but Haruka was determined to try them out afterwards.

Noticing the sweat on their brows, Mrs. Inoue ushered the pair inside and made them sit down at the dining table, she was having none of it otherwise. Haruka appreciated the sweetness of the mandarin slice she was munching on and the barley tea that was chilled, but not so cold that it was unfit for April. Opposite her, Nishinoya snacked on rice crackers, crunching through them and shifting in his seat in obvious restlessness. If not for Mrs. Inoue sitting right next to him, Nishinoya would've bounded straight for the backyard.

Keiichi and Soma, Mrs. Inoue's two sons, were bickering around the table, having finished their food and deciding to launch what was left of it at each other. Soma threw a slice of mandarin at his older brother, who caught it in mid-air with his mouth.

"Whoaa," Soma cooed. "Do that again!"

"Boys."

Mrs. Inoue was smiling but her voice dripped with warning. The brothers froze in action, looked at each other, and scampered off to other parts of the house to resume their antics in secret.

Sensing the malice in the air, Nishinoya bristled and straightened up. Were all girls, women like that?

As soon as Mrs. Inoue let them off the hook, Nishinoya shot straight to the back to set up the volleyball net. Haruka offered to help with the dishes, but Mrs. Inoue shooed her away, saying Haruka was a guest and should just relax herself. By the time Haruka went out, Nishinoya was ready, pads on and all warmed up for another round of block follow drills.

Two days ago, they actually got Mrs. Inoue to do a few serves while Haruka held a board right over the net, rebounding the ball back to the front of the court as if it were an attack blocked by the opponent team. Nishinoya got several good simulations, but then Mrs. Inoue had to go back to making dinner. Today, with just the two of them, Haruka was standing on a ladder that raised her above the net. She let Nishinoya practice different positions by dropping the ball at various angles and strengths.

"Ngh," he grunted as he rolled to reach a ball that was slightly off to the side. The ball soared through the air in a high arc and landed in the front row, right at the setter's position.

Nishinoya stood up grinning, hands on his waist and nose in the air. "That was good. Kobayashi, again!"

Nishinoya was a good player. Haruka didn't have much to compare him with, but she could tell from his quick reflexes that he was an athlete through and through—his movements were already getting smoother in just the few days they spent together. They did several more drills until Haruka's arms felt slightly numb from throwing the ball, even if she was throwing it downwards. After all she was in track for running, not for field sports like shot put or javelin. Her inaccurate throws gave Nishinoya a run for his money as he darted and rolled, picking the ball back up by sliding across the ground or diving.

By the time Nishinoya stood up for a small break, he was all dusty; it wasn't the gymnasium they were at with its squeaky wooden floors. There was even a smudge on his cheek.

Haruka's lips curled in amusement at the libero's haphazard appearance. Then she raised her eyebrows in concern.

"Nishinoya-san, you're bleeding," she said.

He wasn't aware of it until he shifted his arm. The cut on his left forearm was an irritated red, the skin pulled apart by abrasion. Sharp debris on the ground, most likely. "Oh, this happens all the time."

"Hold on." Haruka went back to the house, and after reassuring Mrs. Inoue that it was just for a minor cut and there was nothing to worry about, she came back out with a first-aid kit.

"Thanks, Kobayashi, I'll do it myself." Nishinoya sat down by the veranda and started tending to himself.

Haruka sat next to Nishinoya and watched him work. Cleaning wipes and disinfectant. The wound he just got was only one among the dapple of bruises already spread across his limbs, she realized. Some were an old brown, probably about to fade, but some were purple and fresher and looked like they were formed this week. There was a scar on his left knee that seemed to be from a nasty cut. She wondered what it was that made him train so hard.

"If I don't train, I won't get better." Nishinoya rose an eyebrow and Haruka knew she had said voiced her question out loud. She felt the tips of her ears go red.

"W-Well, everyone wants to be good at what they do," she said, her palms brushing against the smooth surface of the wood. It was cool to the touch.

Nishinoya pressed a wipe against his wound and waited for the blood to clot. "For my teammates to look ahead at a match, I have to be able to guard their backs." He frowned and stared hard at the ground. "In the last tournament, Asa—our ace was completely shut out. All of his spikes were blocked and I couldn't follow up on any of them. He got scared.

"If I could keep the ball in the air, I'm sure the match would've turned out differently. He would've been able to score. So I need to get better."

Haruka looked at the backyard, circumscribed by wooden fences. Mrs. Inoue was tending to a flower bed that didn't have anything blooming even though it was spring, just stems, maybe the plants were for another season. They only had one volleyball. Nishinoya had to retrieve it every single time, so the whole process was tiring. The net, the ladder, all for that one play.

"What is your ace like?"

"An utter wimp!" Nishinoya harrumphed. "He's big and strong, but he carries himself as if he's apologizing for existing at all. It's pathetic, dammit."

Haruka hummed in acknowledgment, elbows on her knees and hands propping up her face. "You must admire your ace quite a lot."

"Haa? He cares too much about what other people think. He's not manly at all," Nishinoya snorted indignantly and slapped the bandage in place harder than he should. "But when push comes to shove, when we're at a pinch in a match, he's the one who can slam past all three blockers. That's the ace's job after all, to score for the team no matter what," he lowered his voice to a grumble, "and he has no right to give that up."

Haruka thought of her middle-school field team captain, their quickest runner, how she lost and how she cried. "Not everyone is like you, Nishinoya-san," she said finally. Nishinoya opened his mouth like he was about to respond, and she continued, "Running isn't like volleyball, I guess—you play as a team. Everyone has their own role to play in a game. Even if it didn't come to victory, it must still be reassuring for your ace to know he's got you standing behind him."

Nishinoya stared at her and Haruka was adamant not to meet his eyes. After a bout of silence, Nishinoya stood up, muttering something about getting fired up, and flexed his arm with the wound that they both knew wouldn't stop him.

The sun was just below the fence and they had about an hour more. Haruka had no doubt they would be practicing for the whole of it and that Nishinoya would be returning to his teammates better than he was before.

-.-.-.-

"Alright, gather round!"

Apparently there were five first-years joining the girls' track and field club. Matsuoka Nao stuck with her once she knew they were from the same class, to Haruka's slight annoyance. She'd been looking forward to focused, methodical training. She couldn't remember if Nao belonged to one of the lunch groups or if she preferred to be alone—well, with the way she tried to stand by her, Haruka was rather sure she wouldn't be.

"So! K-Kobayashi-san, you're in the track club as well!" Nao said, her pigtails trailing behind her. With her bangs, she looked like she had yet to shrug off middle school. "Let's w-work hard together!" She fiddled her fingers in embarrassment.

Haruka wasn't sure what it was that made Nao so nervous. "Likewise," Haruka responded, and by the time she did, the rest of the team were already gathered in a circle for the briefing.

Fukuoka Yuka wasn't the best runner among the third-years, but she was definitely the most charismatic. "Welcome to the track and field club! We lost a week of practice because the sports ground was under maintenance, so expect us to speed things up a bit. No pun intended," she grinned and winked.

"After warming up, first-years, we're going to time you. Follow Irino and Nazuka to the starting line. We'll do 100m, 200m, and 400m. As for the rest, follow your usual regimen based on your target distance."

So they would be assigned to different distances depending on their results. Haruka was sure she would be doing long-distance, though. She wasn't that fast of a sprinter.

Haruka was slightly on edge as they were being timed, the five first-years spread across the lanes. 100m. Ready, set, go. Haruka propelled herself forward and dashed straight, making sure to lift her feet off the ground as her legs stretched for quicker strides, elbows pumping in the air for momentum. Even though she had run with Nishinoya the past week, her body still felt stiff, from the atmosphere perhaps? She was still being outrun by two other first-years—one of them being Nao, of all people. She was actually fast, her stride count making up for her small stature. Or maybe her nerves just made her run faster.

They went back to the starting line. 200m. 400m. Pushing herself off the ground for the third time, Haruka calmed herself and veered along the curving lane, keeping her pace quick but steady as her lungs pumped oxygen in and out of her in rapid succession. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, her blood circulating quicker to sustain her speed. The runners next to her started losing steam, the problem with running too fast at the beginning.

She finished first in this category at least. Haruka checked her records.

66 seconds. Tch. There were no geniuses among the first-years, only fair performers.

Karasuno wasn't particularly known for its track and field club, but they were—like the new recruits—fair. The third-years seemed more sure of themselves. Drinking from a water bottle, Haruka watched them go around the lap, their strides long and graceful. No match for Shiratorizawa, though.

Crinkling her brows, Haruka wondered when she had grown a competitive streak. She would run to improve her time, yes, but not against anyone in particular, no less the Miyagi Track Meet. It must be Nishinoya rubbing off on her. Haruka thought back to when he stood up, bruised limbs and all 5'3" of him, perfecting something he was already good at.

Hearing her captain call, Haruka put down her water bottle and went for the next set of drills. High knees.

-.-.-.-

Wednesday. Haruka hadn't bumped into Nishinoya this week and they hadn't texted since their practice on Sunday. Some peace and quiet at last. In hindsight, last week was an experience, spending so much time with one guy. If her brother knew, he would go ballistic, Haruka thought with a wry smile.

Nao was in one of the lunch groups in the classroom, with three other chirpy girls who didn't value her presence much but didn't mind it either. Haruka almost scoffed when she saw her tug one of her pigtails in nervousness while the rest of the girls laughed about some boy idol who held a concert last week, in Miyagi surprisingly, and two of them went, lucky them.

Haruka was content with being on her own, going to the library and the courtyard once she finished her lunch. She even tried the rooftop once. Apparently Karasuno was one of those schools which actually cared about security, so the door was locked.

At practice, Haruka was so far inside her head that the sounds of her teammates running receded into the background. It was endurance training for the first-years today, something right up her street. Haruka breathed methodically, eyes looking straight ahead and legs moving on their own accord. Left, right, left, right. It was that simple.

Nao may be fast, but she had poor endurance. Having completed the course, Haruka watched her from the sidelines, still running. She was behind by a lap.

"Kobayashi, you're pretty good at long-distance," Fukuoka said, snapping Haruka out of her thoughts.

Oh right, they had all passed the finish line. It was time for the next part of training.

"If our school had a cross-country team, you might be good for it," Fukuoka pondered aloud, leaning against the fences by the lanes.

"I'm thinking of practicing with the country routes," Haruka said.

"We'll do that on Golden Week. Well, see if you can improve your time whilst you're at it—Akane, run it like you mean it!" Fukuoka stood back up. "Could you help refill the water bottles actually? We don't have a manager, so we take turns. Promise."

Nodding mutely in response, Haruka collected the water bottles from the bench and went looking for a water fountain. Exiting the sports ground, she found one near the courtyard by the gym. She unscrewed the bottles and filled them one by one, taking care not to mix them up.

Haruka appreciated the menial task which took her to a quiet part of the campus now that students had either gone home or were in club activities. Fukuoka mentioned Golden Week, would they be training then? There were several mountain routes near the school as she had come to know, perhaps they would—

A loud impact made Haruka jump and she almost spilled the bottle she was holding. "Dammit!" she heard someone yell. Haruka went around the corner of the gym toward the sound and stopped once she saw who it was. It was indeed Nishinoya, clutching his gakuran jacket in one hand. The loud rattling had been his other hand slamming against an unfortunate locker.

Hearing her approach, Nishinoya turned, visibly bristling, but made an obvious effort to restrain himself once he recognized her. "Kobayashi," he frowned.

Should she ask him if something was wrong? No, that would be dumb, because something obviously was. It probably had to do with his team, she didn't know what else could rile him up like this.

Not trusting herself to ask questions, Haruka settled on a greeting. "N-Nishinoya-san," she said. Yikes. Too meek. He eyed her bag of water bottles and she explained, "Track practice."

Nishinoya flung his jacket over his shoulders and put it back on, buttoning it to the collar. He shoved his hands inside his pockets.

Maybe this was her cue to leave.

"Uh, I'll—"

Like a deflated balloon, Nishinoya exhaled and sank to the ground, sitting with his back against the lockers. "What a wuss," he hissed, his anger still simmering.

Or not.

Cautiously, Haruka ventured closer as if Nishinoya was a caged animal. Putting her bag down, she knelt beside him.

"You've started practice?" A rhetorical question. That could work.

"Asahi-san hasn't come back," Nishinoya grunted, his voice deep and irritated.

All that training this past month, and the ace wasn't even there to spike the ball. Nishinoya probably felt let down and betrayed, Haruka thought, and wouldn't she know how that felt. He had been working this past month with the expectation that he could fix everything.

"But you can't," Haruka whispered to no one in particular, to the empty space of the corridor, sheltered from the rain by the slanting tin roof. It was all open space otherwise. A few steps out and they would be back in the courtyard.

Nishinoya gave her an uncomprehending look. "I mean," Haruka considered what she should say, "do you think Asahi-san likes volleyball still?"

"He's got no reason to dislike it," Nishinoya retorted defensively.

"Maybe… Maybe he feels responsible? That you guys lost," Haruka suggested. When Nishinoya looked like he was about to argue, she raised her hands and clarified, "I'm not saying he should! But as the ace, he would carry a lot on his shoulders, probably."

Nishinoya leaned back and his head thudded against the hard metal of the lockers. "Idiot, he's playing with a team. I'm supposed to put the ball back up for him."

"And," Haruka braved to say, "you also put a lot on yourself as well, with defense. The feeling of not being as good as you hoped to be and wanting to improve, or wanting to back down… Everyone is different.

"But I think it's not easy to just give up on something, if you like it." Haruka averted her eyes. "If Asahi-san hasn't showed up yet, maybe it's because he needs more time?"

"I'm not going back to the team if Asahi-san's not there," Nishinoya mumbled.

"I'm sure it won't come to that," Haruka said. Well, what could she say after that ultimatum. The guy was stubborn.

Nishinoya stayed silent. He doesn't understand retreat. He doesn't understand rumination—just not how his brain works—and how Asahi can disappear, just like that. But he knows what it is like to be afraid, from way back. It freezes you up from within, freezes your limbs, until all you can do is look. He wondered if Asahi had been living with this sense of dread for the past month. Unlike him, Asahi was a master at going around in circles in his head.

"Nishiya-san!" A closing voice got their attention. A small boy with a tufty mop of ginger hair bounded over from the gym, clad in volleyball gear. Haruka figured he was one of Nishinoya's teammates. He looked like a first-year.

"It's Nishinoya," Nishinoya corrected gruffly, standing back up and shoving his hands back into his pockets again. Haruka lifted herself off the ground as well.

The first-year volleyball player noticed her and hastily took a few steps back. Haruka raised an eyebrow in question. "Liberos are amazing…" Hinata mumbled with awe. Yup. Definitely a first-year. "Are you Nishinoya-san's girlfriend?"

Haruka almost choked herself. "Ha? I'm a first-year. Kobayashi Haruka from Class 1-5."

The boy paled. "I-I-I'm sorry! I'm Hinata Shouyo from Class 1-1. Um…"

Nishinoya only looked disgruntled if anything, too grumpy to feel flustered. "Why do you think I'm a libero? Because I'm short?"

Hinata looked even more panic-stricken. "B-Because you're a great receiver. Libero is a position for players good at defense, right?"

Nishinoya blinked, then gave a vaguely smug smirk. The first-year knew how to stroke someone's ego.

"You sure know your stuff."

"Plus, the captain calls you Karasuno's guardian deity!"

Bam! Hinata's attack was super effective. Nishinoya immediately stiffened. His face turned red and his ego blew through the roof.

Haruka rolled her eyes.

"Wha—he's exaggerating! I'm not—Daichi-san—d-dammit, I won't bend so easily even if he calls me by a really cool nickname…!" Nishinoya turned around, abashed and hand on the back of his head, then sneaked a look at Hinata.

"He really said that?"

Hinata nodded enthusiastically. "I'm not good at receiving, so please teach me, Nishinoya-sa—Nishinoya-senpai!"

Haruka could feel the honorific reverberate in Nishinoya's head. Yup, Nishinoya was officially knocked out. She was never calling him senpai ever again.

With Nishinoya acting like a flailing idiot, Haruka was sure he would be fine. Casting one last look at the idiotic pair, she picked up her bag of bottles and slipped away. Even from a distance, she could hear Nishinoya stammer something about popsicles after practice and training his kouhai. She had dallied long enough and should really get back to the field.

"Where's Kobayashi?" Nishinoya asked after the impact of Hinata's flattery died down.

"I think she went out with her bag," Hinata said, wide-eyed. "She's from the track and field club, right? I saw her jersey! It's dark blue—that's pretty cool!"

Nishinoya looked at the empty courtyard. In his anger he hadn't even noticed Kobayashi's blue jersey. He shifted focus back to his promise to teach Hinata. Only that. It wouldn't mean he was joining the team again…not without Asahi.

-.-.-.-

The day after, Haruka was studying in her room after dinner. She was going through algebra questions and flipping through the pages of her textbook when her phone vibrated with a new message.

Wondering who it was, Haruka flipped her phone open.

noya: Asahi-san came back

Apparently all the ace needed was 24 hours more. Haruka smiled a bit.

Haruka: That's good. So you're back with the team?

Nishinoya's reply came instantly.

noya: U bet! Next up, training camp match!

Haruka: Right.

And another.

noya: kobayashi you text so properly

Haruka: Ha? That's how I always text.

Merry Nishinoya sure felt like a texter and she had homework to finish. Deciding to leave the conversation at that, Haruka put her phone aside, ignoring the flash that indicated a new notification.

A training camp? That would probably fall on Golden Week as well, same as the track and field club. Haruka wondered if the group dynamics at her club were as intimate as the volleyball club's. Probably not—it wasn't like they were in matches together or anything.

Her phone flashed again. After homework, she thought. Then she would check what mindless comments Nishinoya had about her texting habit of all things.

-.-.-.-

A/N: I hope this is enjoyable! I write when I'm on the road so sometimes the sections feel like bits and pieces. It feels necessary to give some context for the track club (and let's face it we're all here for Noya) but I wonder if that section isn't as interesting for some.

Huge thanks to everyone who followed and marked the story as a favorite! Looks like the training camp is next, or will it. Let's get inside Haruka's head a bit more...