A/N:
Thank you to those who followed/reviewed/favorited! I'm very excited to keep posting chapters for you. Notes and criticisms are appreciated and encouraged as well as absolute flattery. The usual disclaimer is below and will continue to be there just to be safe.
DISCLAIMER: This story will contain mentions of abuse, self harm, and suicide. It will also contain mental health issues involving anxiety, depression, PTSD and other mood disorders. This fic is largely based off of my life experiences and I hope to do justice to what I and so many other people have gone through.
Chapter 3
Juno Was Mad (read disclaimer before continuing)
A bright sign stood next to the club room door alerting people of the wet floor inside. I brought the cleaning items back to the utility closet and headed to the gym. My left hand skimmed over my hip bone, my mind still foggy from the encounter with the lighter. I was lucky to have Hajikun here. It's not often that, on the brink of relapse, someone you know is there to help. And that was true.
Self harm, for me, was humiliating and dark and not something I wanted my loved ones to know of. It was opportunistic; when alone emotionally and physically the desire struck. Rarely did I ever find myself in a public place with an urge strong enough to make me run someplace secluded to satisfy it. When I did it was likely that my weakness would being on newer, more intense urges when I was finally alone. Haru had been the first one to discover me, sobbing silently with a metal clothes hanger, red from heat, pressed against my skin.
I was still reliving the memory when I stepped into the gym to see a loud cluster of team members near the gym door. Oikawa was standing faster out with a childish pout and Hajikun stood next to him, reveling in his friends dismay. Curious, my painful memories washed away and I approached the group.
"Can you show us how to do that amazing back attack?" My heart began to beat fast and I felt a wild smile on my lips as I pushed through the crowd, eager to reach the center where I was sure I would find-
"Hinata!" the exclamation came unbidden from my lips as I broke through the last few people. Dressed casually in work out gear with a large duffle on the floor beside him my brother grinned widely at my sudden appearance.
"I'd be happy to try but you might as well learn from the creator herself!" He pulled me into a one-armed hug and kissed the top of my head. "Hey little sis."
My mouth was open in shock as the room digested all that he said. Eyes glanced back and forth between us, noting the similarities: thick, unruly black hair and dark green eyes. My blood froze in my veins under the scrutiny yet somehow my face burned red with embarrassment. "That's not quite accurate." My words held little conviction and I bit my lip as Oikawa and Hajikun stepped into the circle now.
"She's humble, but trust me when I say she's got more talent than I do." Some mouths dropped at this, including mine, again, as I gaped up at him. He seemed to realize that his affectionate gloating brought me attention that I had actively tried to avoid. His arm rested on my shoulder and he gave me a light squeeze before glancing down at me, an apology written in his eyes. My mouth snapped shut. He'll probably actually apologize later for dragging me into the spotlight.
It was true that I'd taught him the technique he used for his back attack though I had still been in elementary school. I felt like the age difference between myself and Hinata had multiplied when he entered high school and poured over any and all information on volleyball I could get my hands on. Anything to remain relevant in his ever changing life. I'd discovered the pipe play and thought that with Hinata's skill and strength, as long as the setter was competent, he would be able to jump for a ball at the very last moment as the it came down from its arc. The benefit, I had hypothesized, would be increased speed and force making the possibility of blocking it very little no matter how prepared the blocker was.
Shy, and afraid of making a fool of myself I approached Haru fist. As a setter he would know whether the possibility could be humored let alone performed. We practiced it a few times to show Hinata who learned best by watching. I could still remember the euphoria I felt when I saw the sparkle in his eyes, a sparkle put there by me. In his first year of high school he hadn't been able to perform it more than a handful of times when the setter got lucky so he had to practice at home with Haru and myself. We remained inseparable until Haru, too, went to high school.
I forced myself into the present, fleeing the dark road those memories would lead me down, seeing the crowd part suddenly to make way for Coach Irihata. "Nakahara Hinata." he attempted, and failed, to imbue the short phrase with his usual disgruntled authority, allowing the corner of his mouth to twitch upward in a whisper of a smile.
"Hey, Coach. Still as wound up as ever I see." Hinata had the dig ready just as he had when he'd been in the club. Coach's eyes narrowed in response.
"You're talking pretty confidently now that you're out of my gym." I could hear the friendly tension build as one of the best players to pass through the school and his former coach couldn't help but goad each other.
"It's a good thing I'm out too, you might be losing touch in your old age." Heads turned back and forth between the two, riveted by a side of their coach they hadn't seen.
"Big talk for a hot-shot college boy, but can you back it up?" He unknowingly puffed out his chest. He'd never say it out loud but he was sure he had a player on his current team that could give Hinata a run for his money. I knew that look. It was the look he had when he was sure we were going to win a match.
"Are you suggesting I've lost my touch?" Hinata's eyes sparkled and he stepped forward, releasing me as he did. His toothy smile was downright scary.
"Play a match with this group and you'll see that you have." Eyes unbelievably wide the entire team looked at Irihata. It seemed once he had graduated and become his own man a sense of familiarity had grown between my brother and his former coach. Instead of teacher and student they interacted like old friends. My heart swelled with pride seeing a man my brother looked up to showing him such respect.
"Sure, I'll teach them a thing or two." Hinata said, always ready to play a round. Whoops and cheers followed and suddenly the whole team began to discuss teams and strategies when they were interrupted.
"I'll play only if she does." Shock wracked through my body when I processed who the voice belonged to. Oikawa was pointing directly at me, head tilted to the side with anticipation in the smirk that stretched across his face. A moment passed and I realized what was happening. This is it. This is how he's getting back at me for the other day. Many emotions pinballed in my brain: excitement, fear, recklessness, uncertainty, excitement. It was confusing to feel so thrilled at the prospect of playing. I hadn't played, hadn't wanted to play since That Day for many reasons, the most glaring being that volleyball could incite flashbacks of the incident.
Knowing this, Hajikun and Hinata looked at me, worried, before Hajikun slammed his hand into the back of Oikawa's head. "Shittykawa, you idiot!"
"Okay."
The two responses to the team captain had been muddled and overlapped as we spoke at the same time. Still silent, all heads turned my direction once again. Hand still in the air Hajikun stared at me incredulously. I felt Hinata's hand on my shoulder but I was looking at Oikawa. He was holding the back of his head, mouth open to complain to his friend but his eyes were locked on to me.
"Okay." I said feeling a rush of adrenaline as I said it. "I'll play." Turning immediately to the club rooms to change I left him to pick his jaw up off of the floor.
After she left Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa once more, "Shitty-trashy-crappykawa." He muttered, nearly drowned out by the sudden roar of conversation between the other players.
"O-ow, Iwa-chan! What's with you?" Ducking away from another hit he jumped back, grumbling incoherently and holding his injured head.
"Why would you ask her to play? What's you're angle here?" It didn't sound like Iwaizumi wanted to understand at all why Oikawa had issued the stipulation. His voice made it clear that there was some unseen boundary that had been crossed. The pain dissipated at once and OIkawa frowned, what's gotten into Iwa-chan?
"It's not like I thought she'd agree!" He defended, "I just wanted to mess with her a little. You know, because of that awes-sloppy jump serve the other day." It was the truth although he wouldn't admit that he was more than a little intrigued. Most of the time only players who intended to play professionally, and who had the skill, practiced the jump serve. Why, then, had this innocuous, invisible girl been able to perform one?
"I know it doesn't happen often with you, but I really wish you'd have thought about someone other than yourself this time." Iwaizumi pressed a finger into his chest hard and glared into his eyes. At that moment OIkawa knew something much deeper had been going on, something that not even his best friend had told him. His act dropped.
"Iwa, is there something I should know?" Honest concern shown in his brown eyes and Iwaizumi felt badly for being so aggressive. It wasn't as if Oikawa could know everything. Not outside the court, at least.
"Just that you're an idiot." He said in his usual stern tone and turned away from his friend to collect himself. It wasn't his story to tell no matter how close to Himari he was but now that Oikawa knew something was being kept from him it was hard not to feel guilty for keeping it to himself. He was relieved when Oikawa regressed back to whining and pleading for information. He could more easily ignore him when he was being a petulant child.
Looking at the two boys Hinata stood next to Coach Irihata, his mouth pressed in a thin line. It seemed that Iwaizumi and his sister had become better friends than he had realized in his absence. He felt guilty that she had to rely on someone other than family but they had all been assured first by her, then by her therapist, that grieving and watching her constantly would help no one. They all had to continue living. The pain still ached in his chest, the knowledge that all his posturing about being the oldest brother, the protector, hadn't amounted to anything when she actually needed him.
"I'm sorry about that one," Irihata spoke. He was one of the only people outside of the family that had any idea of what had happened in her past, "he's pretty rambunctious, or insolent, if you'd rather, but he's a hell of a player."
Hinata nodded, "It's alright. I'm grateful in a way. There are bound to be many moments in her life where she'll be challenged like this. I won't be there every time either." The old coach placed a warm, weathered hand on his shoulder.
"I can see why he wanted to challenge her though. She's one of the three people in this gym that can do a power jump serve." The sly smile on the coach's face told Hinata that he wanted to shock his former player. He was exceedingly successful.
Turning fully to Irihata, eyes wide, he nearly shouted, "She served? In front of people?" Pride in his younger sister blossomed in him and his eyes began to sting. She had barely consented to touching a volleyball after That Day, not even to practice with her brothers. It had been understandable, of course, but it had been an even bigger blow to him. He cherished the time practicing with his sister and losing it had been a devastating reminder of her trauma. Serving in front of people, agreeing to play today, Hinata found himself hoping they were steps forward for her.
A chuckle escaped Irihata despite the grave undertone of their conversation. "She did. Seemed embarrassed by it but she's come back every day since then." The meaning of his words soothed Hinata. She's come back every day. She served and still came back, something that, years ago, would have been impossible. It meant she was strong and getting stronger.
Relief was apparent in his sigh. "I told you to shut up! Damn, you don't know when to quit!" He looked over to Iwaizumi yelling at Oikawa and laughed. The prospect of playing volleyball with his little sister again didn't seem to be the shattering scenario he thought it would be.
I was fidgeting as I exited the club room, checking to make sure my shorts fully covered the shame on my hip. The physical education uniform was standard but my long legs made them seem too short for comfort. I got away with wearing the track pants in PE because I hadn't been trying but this situation was different. I needed to move unrestricted, unfettered by fabric in order to play properly. There was no way I was going onto the court with Hinata and, if I had to admit it, with Oikawa as well, and not give it everything I had.
I breathed in deep and let it out in a hiss. I was being reckless. That was exactly the term my therapist had used. 'Trauma survivors tend to be reckless. They put themselves in dangerous positions that others would not'. He had explained that 'danger' for me for me involved more things than someone without my history. For me, danger could be playing volleyball when the last time I attempted to nearly landed me in psych care for a weekend. Even knowing that could not ebb the excitement I was feeling.
"Nakahara-chan!" Yamada called out to me before I could open the gym doors. I thought he looked to be in a pretty good mood though I had no idea why. "So, you're actually playing? I knew it. I was right when I said you should be playing instead of cleaning." Oh, I thought, he's pretty excited for me.
"Yeah, well my brother is here and I was invited so..." I trailed off, uncertain of why I was trying to explain what had happened when I was still processing it myself.
He brushed off my awkwardness easily, "Well, we'll all be cheering you on. You're like our representative." He was talking about the custodians. The phrase bothered me, like the only one who could interact with the volleyball club was me just because I knew how to play. It seemed sad that there was an invisible wall always separating the athletes from everyone else. They weren't unattainable but everyone acted like it.
"I'll try to give us gym cleaners a good name." I said while wondering if I had felt the invisible wall between my brothers and myself while growing up. We high-fived and Yamada ran up to the upper deck to watch.
Walking back into the gym I saw the team arguing over who would play with Hinata and smiled. Popular as ever. When I joined them Hinata, already changed, eyed me fretfully and I made a show of rolling my eyes. He didn't need to worry about me anymore. "Hinata and I should be on separate teams." I spoke into the fray of voices.
I was already tired of the way everyone stopped functioning when I said anything. "But he said he needed you to set for him to show us the back attack." Kindaichi all but whined and I pursed my lips.
"Then you can watch me do it from the other side of the court." I tried to sound composed and confident but I was sure the irritation I was feeling seeped out. I heard a chuckle followed by a disbelieving 'oh really' and glanced to see the culprit, Oikawa, looking overly arrogant. Turning toward Hinata and Coach Irihata I said with more control, "Give me Oikawa and I'll show you all the Nakahara Pipe." My eyes met Oikawa's with mirth, noting his dumbfounded expression. That shut him up.
"Very well. Nakahara Hinata, Yahaba, Kindaichi, Motomu, Kunimi, Hanamaki on this side. Nakahara Himari, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Kyotani, Heisuke on the other. Watari will be libero for both. We'll play three sets to 15 to keep it short and the losers clean the gym." I felt my mouth turn down and quickly reset it. I was irritated that Coach put Iwaizumi on the same team as Oikawa. They'd been playing together for years and had flawless teamwork and putting them together in this scrimmage meant that he thought I'd hinder the teams performance. Fire burned in my belly.
Hinata winked at me as my team walked to the other side of the net. Oikawa bounded up next to me, "So, you've got me, what are you going to do with me?" The way he said it sounded as if he'd said the phrase a hundred times. It held no innuendo or even any playfulness. If anything it sounded obligatory like he was expected to say it so he did. The fire in me crackled. Was there even a real person underneath that facade? Was there no person he deemed worthy enough to show his true self?
I stopped and grabbed his arm and was rewarded with another stupid look of surprise. He made me want to put him in his place like Karasuno had done but my weapons were few. Relying on the one thing that was sure to shock I stepped closer, our chests nearly touching, and looked up at him. "What do you want me to do?" I asked feeling ridiculous as I'd said it. Nowhere in the world would anyone describe me as 'seductive' and there I was, trying my best to frazzle a well known play-boy with my sorry excuse for femininity. It seemed to be enough, however whether it was my attempt at being provocative or the shock of someone like me saying that was undetermined. His eyes widened in what I hoped was astonishment and he remained mute.
"Hmm, silence. I guess that means you don't want me to do anything with you. Too bad, alright, good game everyone!" My voice grew louder and I turned away to address my team and they responded in kind. I stood in the middle next to the net and Hajikun raised an eyebrow at me.
"What did you say to him?" He spoke low to avoid being overheard by Oikawa who stood at the far left of the net, silent.
"Just wishing him good luck." I forced a smile and tried not to shake my head. I needed a word more severe than reckless to describe myself. Audacious might work. Why did I continue to feel the need to antagonize Oikawa? I had never had the urge to speak with him before the other day. I was content with watching him play volleyball from a distance. He felt real when he played. It was possible that I bristled against any interaction with him because it ruined the magic of watching him play. I don't like that, it makes me sound like a lovesick fangirl. I snuck a peak at the subject of my thoughts.
Fan girl might not have been too far off, but not in the same vein as his other admirers. I hadn't flocked to his looks or his charm, I hadn't even noticed his existence until I began cleaning the gym. I watched his jump serve and had been immediately struck with nostalgia. It was the first time I enjoyed watching someone other than my brothers. He was brilliant. Maybe no one would call him a genius or prodigy because his latent potential wasn't as high as others' but when it came to understanding the heart of the game he was unmatched. Seeing him work through plays as they happened fascinated me and I found myself appreciating his abilities, watching him when I could. That's good, going from fan girl to stalker.
I smacked my face with both hands to bring me to the present ignoring the looks directed my way. We were receiving first and I needed to be ready, fully realizing just how easy it would be for me to make a fool of myself. I hadn't played since my third year of middle school, there was no way I would perform like I had let alone be at the level of the boys around me. I looked over to Matsukawa who was waiting patiently on the sidelines as Watari took his position at back center to receive. He should have been up front, my brain accused me as it shied away from the nervousness that was slowly building.
He caught me staring and looked back, considering something. He held his hands out in front of him and curled them into fists parallel to the ground and started moving his feet in an odd way; almost like pedaling. I blinked a few times before my brain recognized the movement. Tilting my head to the side in question prompted him to stop and held his hands out as if to say 'I tried'. Suddenly the meaning hit me. He was acting out a phrase from English class: 'Like riding a bike'. The meaning was that once you learned something you didn't forget it. I felt my features relax and nodded at him before taking a deep breath feeling taller than my 172 cm. He looked mildly please and his face turned back to its passive state looking remarkably similar to Hajikun's. I faced the net with new confidence and readied myself for the serve. Irihata blew the whistle and time slowed down as we started.
Hanamaki served between Kyotani and Watari and the libero received it easily angling it directly toward Oikawa who had switched places with me right after the serve. From just outside the left boundary line where the front and back courts met I watched our setter for a clue as to where he wanted to throw it. He looked almost as if he wasn't watching the opposing team, a master at keeping his play a secret, but I saw the most minuscule of glances toward the right side and new he would throw to Hajikun. I ran anyway at a sharp 45 degree angle toward his position in the middle and jumped high as if preparing to spike.
Two blockers came to me leaving Hajikun with one and I swiped hard at air, delighting in the shock on Hinata and Kindaichi's faces. The ball hit inside the opposing court and I heard heard Yahaba, who had missed the block, let out a sound of irritation.
Hinata smiled so wide his face was in danger of splitting. "I thought for sure it was coming to you with how hard you were staring at Oikawa. It looked like you knew exactly what he was going to do." Leave it to an older brother to voice your embarrassing secrets.
My cheeks heated up and I tried not to look at Oikawa but failed. The way he looked at me now was completely different than before. It was his game face, the once he reserved for his teammates, free from his usual ministrations that kept his facade in place. "I did know." I said bravely.
Rotating now, Hajikun moved to serve and Watari ran to the other side to take the place of Motomu. Scooting back to the 3 meter line I leaned forward to decrease the chance of being hit by the serve. It was over the net quickly and my eyes raked over the players, watching their faces and following the ball. Despite my brothers reputation Yahaba, who was bound to want to succeed against Oikawa, would set the ball who he was comfortable with first. Both Hinata and Kindaichi ran to the net and my feet moved without thought, my body instinctually functioning as my brained continued to process information. At the net a warm body arrived next to mine and Oikawa whispered, "Wait."
"Yeah," I whispered back, already aware that Yahaba liked to throw in a slow set to mess up the tempo of the blockers. My heart beat once and I saw the ball move toward it's target. Oikawa and I crouched in time with each other and jumped on an unspoken cue.
Kindaichi spiked it hard and I felt the ball slap against the inside of my left hand and begin to escape through he gap in my arms. "Shit. One touch!" I screamed before my feet hit the ground. Turning rapidly and running to the far right I saw the ball had been received, just barely, by Matsukawa. He managed to send it pretty steadily toward Oikawa who had to adjust only slightly.
Where is it going this time? I watched him again and clenched my teeth together, shit, to me! I ran hard toward the net almost directly on the sideline when I saw the toss, it was quick but I had guessed the tempo right. Jumping fast I saw the open space in front of me and spiked the ball with all my might down the sideline, relishing the sting on my palm.
I looked down at the pink skin as I fell, faintly hearing the the ball smack against the wood floor. An odd feeling coursed through me and I wondered if I had ever felt this good when I played. Maybe it was living in the shadow of my talented siblings that had caused me to be so dispassionate about it before. I practiced only to further their skills but now I today was just for the pure fun of it. I looked up toward Oikawa, still ecstatic about the spike, and mustered all of my gratitude into the smile I gave him. "Thank you." I said, breathless. His features twisted suddenly, eyebrows knitting together and a slow frown forming. I nearly gasped an turned away quickly. He looked so angry...
