Chapter Seven
Ame hops up and down. She's standing with other non-regular players and the sight on the court is not good at all. She frowns.
"Misaki, what is going on?"
The setter grits her teeth.
"Captain and the others are slowly losing patience. They're worn out."
It's already the second set and Ishihara has to win this one to play the third.
"But I don't understand. Our spikes are more powerful than the opponents'."
"You're right. But it doesn't mean anything if we're always blocked."
She clenches her fists as Ame keeps crying her encouragement.
The score is 15-21. This is over, Misaki thinks. Her teammates won't be able to catch up. And they know that. She sees the dim glimmer in their eyes, growing darker and darker. They lost all hope to win. She looks at the non-regulars. They keep cheering, but also with less conviction than before. Seems like it'll end there for their team.
"Don't give up!" A shout pierces Misaki's ear-drum.
Next to her, Ame's eyes are burning, her face lit up with anticipation and desire to win. She still thinks it's possible, that they won't lose. No. She's not even considering the possibility that they'll lose. She's certain of their victory. It's foolish, but also remarkably endearing. It makes Misaki want to hope.
The coach calls Ame. She joins him at the bench and he tells her something Misaki can't hear. Then he gives her the cardboard with the number eight on it.
Ame comes back to Misaki. She's as pale as a white sheet.
"He wants me to serve." She gulps.
"I see. He wants you to give the team their motivation back. To refresh them." Misaki pauses. "Hey, why are you so frightened? You're going to play. Isn't that what you always wanted?"
"I'm.. I'm not scared!"
Ame doesn't have time to develop her lie as the referee whistles. She freezes. With a reassuring pat on her back, Misaki shoves her on the court.
She can hear the other team's whispers as she steps in, unsure. They look at her with pity, and for some reason it makes her so angry. She would rather see them stare and scold at her, because at least that would mean some kind of regard. Pity is not something you feel for your rivals, it's something you give to those underneath you. Suddenly all her fear disappears.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She shouts. "You better prepare yourselves, because when I'll serve, you won't see it coming!"
She articulates clearly her last words. There's a silence, then something in the air snaps, someone snickers and her teammates roar her name. They root for her, their previous gloom vanishing like invisible smoke. Misaki sighs with relief. It worked, Ame woke the team up.
She takes a few steps back behind the white line.
Just breathe, Ame tells herself as she closes her eyes and approaches the volleyball to her head.
She practiced that serve hundreds of times for more than two months now. She can do it. She won't fail.
She opens her eyes and takes a look at the court in front of her. Her teammates ready to move. The opponents' expectant gaze behind the net. The crowd cheering on the grandstand. From there, the sport hall looks different. Everyone has their eyes on her and yet, she wouldn't want them be anywhere else. Her nervousness has disappeared, and it strikes her like an evidence: she belongs here, more than she would ever belong anywhere else.
Like in a dream, the whistle blows and her body is moving on its own. She throws the ball in the air, at perfect height and her legs fly on the flooring. Her hand claps on the leather with a thunder sound, and the ball wings like a cannonball. It violently hits the floor.
It is an ace.
Her teammates cry of joy. They go to her and pat her shoulder, back, head and she just feels sweet delight in her chest.
Her eyes wander to the other side of the court. The substitutes cheer her on, the usually quiet setter the loudest of them all.
The second time Ame has her moment of glory, it is on a spike that surprises everyone. She goes wild, like an untamed animal kept in a cage for too long. She feels her bones glowing and extending. Misaki sees it all, and she can't look anywhere else but at Ame. Smothering boldness emanates from her, and it demands to everyone to follow suit.
However, in the end one no matter how much someone might lift the others up, one single person isn't a team and will never be.
They lose.
As expected, it is not enough to catch up to the score. Ishihara tries their best, but the match ends with their defeat. They get off the court with bitterness and frustration, heads down and fists clenched.
There's nothing else to say. Everyone did their best, but it wasn't enough. They simply just weren't strong enough. And even though she only played at the very end for less than ten minutes, Ame can't keep the salted tears from forming in the corner of her eyes.
They walk out of the sports hall, their bags way heavier on their shoulders than when they came in.
In the bathroom, Ame scrubs her face with cold water, wetting the tips of her hair and the collar of her burgundy shirt. She looks at her black eyes in the mirror. When she started playing volleyball, despite her parents disapproval as they wanted her to keep on ballet, she never thought it could bring her so much joy and grief at the same time. Of course the intensive training hurts and leaves her body sore, but until now it wasn't something that made her heart clench from frustration. Today, it's different, and the pain coming from defeat is way crueler than being left breathless or injuring herself.
When she leaves the bathroom, she's still ruminating on her bitter thoughts. She bumps into someone and whispers an apology without looking.
"Hey," the voice is familiar and soft.
She lifts her head to see Oikawa.
"Hey," she doesn't even tries to fake enthousiasm. She's never been the kind to do such things anyways, too honest and selfish to keep her disappointment to herself in order to not make others uncomfortable.
Even though he didn't see the match Oikawa can clearly understand its results. Her face is dry now but the mix of anger and spite is still present.
"It's over."
"I heard about it. I'm sure you did your best."
She nods slightly and averts her eyes to the side. Oikawa sighs quietly. He understands what it feels like to lose, he went through it several times, but that doesn't mean he knows the right thing to say. After all, losing doesn't get easier to accept and there are no proper words to comfort a player.
He puts his hand on her head.
"I know it was your first official match and I know how you feel. But use the anger you're feeling as fuel to keep working and get better."
"Is it really worth it," she mutters under her breath "when you know you're bound to lose at some point?"
She looks up at him and for once his face is dead serious.
"Yeah maybe. Maybe everything we do is just useless and maybe we're wasting our time." For ten seconds he seems to think about it then he simply declares, "But I wouldn't want to waste my time doing anything else."
Something clicks in her mind like a missing piece that's finally found.
She gets it. No matter how painful it is to lose, there's no other way to keep moving. She has two choices. She can step back into safety to not feel anything. Or she can dive head first and give everything she has. If she wants to stand on the court then she has to bet everything, and be willing to take her leave when the time comes. Only those who have the guts to lose have a chance to sit on the winners' throne.
"I don't want to lose again" she blurts out.
"Then don't. This match is only one among all the ones you're going to play, and I know for sure next time you spike you're going to break some arms."
She can't help but chuckle at his last comment.
"Oikawa, you idiot". She takes his hand. "You suck at comforting but thanks for trying, I guess."
She beams at him as she usually does and he wonders how someone can look down in the dumps one moment and manage to lit their face so brightly the next second. That's right, Ame isn't the type to dwell on things for too long.
He pouts mockingly.
"Ah, as always you're playing with my heartstrings. Have you got no heart, Ame-chan?"
"Like you're the one to say that," she whispers quietly as she focuses on her fingers that play with his hand.
He lifts an eyebrow.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
She snaps out of her stream of thoughts and her gaze comes back to his face.
"Nothing!" She answers a little bit too quickly. It's awkward and she doesn't even know why she thinks about such things at such a moment. She pauses and adds "don't you have to join Iwaizumi?"
Oikawa's eyes widden.
"Shit, Iwa-chan is waiting."
He can already feel the slap on the back of his head and his friend's snuffling voice scolding him.
"I have to go. See you later Ame-chan! Call me whenever you want! For anything, anywhere!"
He strokes her dainty shoulder and runs through the hallway as Ame sighs softly. She feels relieved.
It's not over. In fact, things are just starting to get interesting.