14. Kronos (III)
The days following after the funeral proceeding of Amagi are notably filled with nothing but gloom and dread. It is almost like the world is doused, grey-washed in the dull, somber tones of black and white, sapping it off from its once, vibrant hues as everyone is forced to go through the motion; to plough through the mundane activities of everyday life.
Kaga can see it in the eyes of her peers, her classmates— even her teachers. In their pursed lips and lowered gaze.
The devastation of the entire situation, despite having bore its weight heavily down onto the shoulders of the volleyball club of Kaito Academy, had not been restricted to just the club alone, it's aftermath been far-reaching, taking a toll on the rest of the student body too.
The tragedy of the decade, that's what everyone— the media— is calling it.
One death. Another left in a critical care, and multiple left injured.
Nothing like that has ever quite happened before. And to a widely renowned sports academy at that too.
What is to become of the famed volleyball team of Kaito Academy? Now, currently left in tatters and shambles, with most of their star players temporary (and permanently) put out of commissioned, their fate is all up in the air for much discussion and speculation.
Though, whether or not Kaito Academy would ever be able to bounce back from such a major setback is hard to say, considering things as it is at the moment— how the morale of the team is practically rock bottom. It is only thankful that the preliminaries of the Interhigh has at least been pushed back and postponed for a month and a half in light of the incident.
But for now, the team has been given a mandatory weeklong break from training. A reasonable allowance of time for them to grief and mourn over the loss of their fellow teammate, as well as for the team to regroup.
Though, in all honesty, Kaga doesn't think a week would very much suffice for them. But at this point, she knows that they can only make do with what they have.
They would all have to suck it up and get back on track one way or another whether they'd like it or not; or so she keeps telling herself, despite being unable to go anywhere close to the gymnasium in days after the incident.
Especially now that she is appointed to replace Amagi as the team's official setter.
She just doesn't know how to face Akagi.
Akagi whose eyes had been all red and puffy during the funeral but had not shed a single tear throughout the entire proceeding.
Kaga remembers the watery look she wore that day, topaz irises glassy and brimming, so filled with emotions. She remembers the fierce defiance burning in her eyes, the way she had squared her jaw, locked it tight, her quivering lip between her teeth as if to block out any possible stray sob or cry from escaping her being.
Strong.
That was what Akagi was, and inwardly, Kaga wondered if she would spend the hours after the proceedings crying her eyes out.
Or not.
She supposes would never know.
Thoughts coming to a lull, that is when she hears it.
The soft thumping of balls.
Footsteps halting, Kaga strains her ears just much so.
It's subtle, nearly imperceptible. But Kaga recognizes it without a doubt— the all-so very familiar sound of balls striking against the court. And she can't help but instinctively follow the trail of it, her legs ultimately leading her to the entrance of the gym.
Kaga wavers; fingers gripping tight against the steel handles of the doors to the gymnasium, she clings onto it desperately, using it as some form of leverage. A means to steady herself, to still the tremor in her hands, her knees— her entire being.
Fond memories briefly flash across her eyes. Ones that have never felt so distant and faraway before, as if all that had happened years ago instead of mere weeks. Days even. It loops back at her like a broken old tape-recorder in black and white, the sounds of laughter echoing— dying— in her ears.
The telltale prickle of tears sears at her, but Kaga quickly stamps it all down with a good mental shake.
She sighs, inhaling then exhaling deeply.
Beyond the doors, she can hear it.
Loud and clear.
Volleyball against hardwood flooring; its pulse matching the vigorous beats of her heart in her chest.
With a breath, Kaga tentatively pries the doors ajar, peeking a head through the slight gap, her curiosity ultimately winning out on her.
And her gaze zeroes in on a familiar frame.
Thin and ever so lean, with muscles pulled taut and spine curving, accommodating to the near pristine form in which the figure draws back to deliver a flawless spike across the court.
Akagi.
Landing back down onto the court, the girl merely takes a short beat as a quick breather, before reaching down to pick at a stray volleyball rolling near her feet, and it is that small, unobstrusive movement that eventually draws Kaga's attention to her taped, blistered fingers and her extremely reddened palm— of its alarming shade of scarlet.
Idly, Kaga wonders just how long has she been going at it like this. So relentless with her pacing, like a girl on a mission.
Even with her hair tied up, pulled back into its usual high ponytail during training, leaving all but a couple loose tendrils of hair and her bangs to frame her delicate features, it's still near impossible to discern the look— the emotions and expression— on Akagi's face from Kaga's angle.
But despite so, Kaga still manages to catch the faint glimmer of perspiration clinging on to the girl, almost like a second skin, beading off from the planes of her chin and nose.
Another thunderous spike.
And Kaga watches as her shoulders heaves, rising and falling heavily with every breath, stilted from exertion, but she still pulls through a couple more rounds of spikes, its power and impact never once wavering.
It's almost heartbreaking watching her like this, Kaga thinks, working herself right to the core of her bone.
But even so, she's still devastatingly beautiful. Yes, even at her very worst.
Unable to hold herself back any longer, Kaga enters the gymnasium with hesitant steps. She sidles up beside Akagi quietly, then falters, unsure of what she is to say to her, now that she's actually standing before her like this.
The silence reigns on between them; with Akagi's spikes resounding off the court and Kaga, stalling; still watching her as she mulls, choosing her words carefully.
"There isn't any practice today." She says, quietly after a while.
"I know," replies Akagi, not quite looking at Kaga, her voice warbling. From exertion or from grief, Kaga doesn't exactly know.
Her eyes are red-rimmed and notably puffy, lips pressed thinly. Grimly.
Kaga thinks she might have caught an imperceptible wobble to her knees, but before she can even be sure, Akagi has already launched herself up into the air for another spike.
And as expected, another excellent spike is delivered.
Bending over, Kaga picks at one of the many volleyball littered across the court. She palms the ball in her hands, hefting at it slightly, letting the familiarity of its weight— the feel of its smooth leather against her fingertips— sink in.
"Let me join you," she says, fighting down the fragile quiver of emotion crawling up her throat.
Akagi nods, a small polite smile on her lips. "Please, go ahead."
Together, with Kaga now taking up the other half of the court, they begin spiking in tandem, allowing the deep resonance of their strikes to fill them— the hollow empty spaces created by grief and despair. Letting the sting of their palms wash away the hurt in their chest.
Toss, run, jump and spike. Rinse and repeat.
Kaga isn't sure how long they had gone at it, but as far she knows, it had certainly felt like an eternity.
But at one point, she finds herself sitting by the benches with Akagi, chugging sweet glorious water down her parched throat, her uniform— her white button-down blouse— plastered across her back, slick with perspiration and her navy cardigan strewn haphazardly at some corner along with her school bag and school tie.
Her muscles are burning, tight with that familiar sear of strain and hard work, while her breaths are coming out in rags, rattling the bones in her ribs. Still, Kaga has never felt more alive. Invigorated. Exhilarated.
She had missed this.
The fire in her lungs, the pull of her muscles and the throb of her palm from a well-executed spike.
She had missed it all.
She turns a sideway glance over at Akagi sitting beside her, and finds that the girl is watching her with a particularly measured gaze, topaz eyes regarding her steadily.
"How is Tosa-san doing?" Akagi asks quietly— tentatively— then glances away, giving Kaga the slight impression of tiptoeing over eggshells.
Kaga frowns, wringing at the bottle of water in her hands, listening to the soft wrinkle of wrapper and plastic between her fingers.
"Her condition has finally stabled out, but she is still in a coma." She pauses, worrying her lip between her teeth, lowering her gaze down onto a speck down onto the floor. "The doctors say that the longer she takes to wake, the harder it'll be for her to walk again. And it's especially so, when she's paralyzed from the waist-down."
She swallows at the emotional block of ice in her throat, then releases a shaky breath, her fingers trembling with its hold on the bottle, her voice coming through as a broken whisper. An admittance more to herself than anything else.
"It's unlikely that Onee-chan will be able to play volleyball again."
A comforting weight presses against Kaga's shoulder.
"That's… unfortunate. I'm sorry," murmurs Akagi from beside her, the hand on her shoulder squeezing at her softly before slipping away.
Something in her voice compels Kaga to glance up, and she does so, hesitantly.
And Akagi is there, sitting beside her with her head hung low and her shoulders hunched over.
She sees the unending sorrow clouding in her bloodshot eyes, the heavy dark rings beneath them, accentuating the shadows on her face. It makes her look older beyond her years. Tired. But most of all, weary. World-weary. As if she is long done with everything else in the world, and is only lugging through painfully with life, just for the sake of it.
Somehow, it's at this time that Kaga chooses to remember the bits and pieces of gossip she sometimes hear in the locker room; the whispers and murmurs along the hallways and corridors of the school.
Of how both Akagi and Amagi had lost their parents to a tragic car accident many years back, and are hence, living together with their coach— Houshou— who is apparently some distant relative of sorts. (Though, the latter part is no secret to the rest of the club.)
It's one death after another for Akagi, as it turns out.
And inwardly, Kaga wonders just how is she still able to hold up together like this.
What with the way, it had felt like the whole world had crashed and burned at her feet when she came to learn of her own sister's critical state and her fate— the ultimate loss of her legs…
She can barely even imagine the pain and anguish Akagi must have had put up with.
For having lost her parents.
And finally, her one and only sister.
"Fuyukawa-san."
Kaga straightens, starting slightly at the sudden sound of her name.
"Yes?"
Slowly, she turns to meet Kaga's gaze. "Can you…" For the first time, Akagi wavers, teeth sinking deep into her lip to stop its quiver as she forces its ends to curl into a small, almost bashful smile. "Can you please give me a set?" She breathes.
"B-but I…" Kaga stammers her protest, but it soon dies on her lips at the sight of Akagi's particularly watery gaze bearing down on her imploringly.
"Please?" she whispers.
And Kaga knows she simply can't find it in herself to deny her. "Alright."
Rising to their feet, they make a beeline towards the center of the court, just slightly before the net.
Scuffling at her feet, Kaga gives the ball in her hands a couple idle spins, releasing a long steadying breath in her attempt to calm the furious beating of her heart.
With one last glance at Akagi, she gives her a nod.
And without missing a beat, Akagi sets off into short run, bursting right in the air with her back arching and arms swinging into position.
It should be something like this, Kaga thinks, the image of Amagi's form coming to her mind's eye.
Holding her breath, Kaga snaps at her wrists, her body curling into place as the ball springs off from her fingers and right into Akagi's trajectory, her palm connecting and descending down in one fluid movement.
And what quickly ensues, is an extremely devastating spike that thunders throughout the entire gymnasium, echoing off its four walls— and rattling the two trembling hearts that happen to be the cause of it.
For a good long minute or two, they stand, stunned and utterly shell-shocked, awed by the impact of their creation.
When suddenly, Akagi crumples down onto her knees, her legs buckling, finally giving out on her.
Breath hitching, Kaga races for Akagi's fallen frame.
"Akiyama-san!"
Nearing the girl, she notices her staring intently at her reddened palm, her taped fingers flexing, trembling, and with a shuddering breath, she clenches at them tightly, resting it over her chest— her heart.
And she stays like that for a long, long while.
Soughing in deeply, Akagi finally makes to stand on her feet, albeit shakily with Kaga's support— a firm grip over her shoulders. And in the process of doing so, she catches a glimpse of a lone tear, slithering down Akagi's fair cheek.
"Akiyama-san…"
Akagi sniffs, shaking at her head ruefully. She sighs.
"Tragedy and sorrow were upon us," she begins softly, saddened eyes looking faraway, holding just a hint of wisdom that is most unexpected from someone of their age. "But if we were to be so consumed by grief, to throw away what precious time that follows after, then we'll be no better than fools."
Peering over to Kaga, she stares her square in the eyes, and in them, Kaga sees a roaring flame, blistering in its heat— in its fiery determination.
"From here on out, I will be your partner and you will be mine."
Akagi reaches out gingerly, fingers grasping for the side of Kaga's arm. A pleading notion, that Kaga immediately recognizes, and she could very well feel the quivering of her fingertips against her skin, twinging at her chest.
Very quietly, Akagi adds, "Your sets… It can only be yours, Kaga-san." The sound of her name, with the lack of honorifics, elicits a sharp throb of her heart. "So from now on, I'll be counting on you, alright?"
"Yes, please." Kaga croaks, voice cracking, the tears in her eyes threatening to overspill. "If you would allow me to do so, then please." She clutches at the hand over her arm, squeezing at it tightly, and swallows forcefully at the tide of emotions rising up from within her. "Let me play by your side, Akagi-san."
Akagi smiles then. The first true, genuine smile ever since the death of her sister broke out.
Carefully, she laces their fingers together, then draws Kaga near, pulling her into a warm, warm embrace.
"If you would allow me to play by yours too, Kaga-san."
A/N: Firstly, let me start off by apologizing for the lateness of this chapter, considering how I've been saying I would be sticking to a weekly/bi-weekly update schedule. I'm sorry. But sadly, shit happened, and I was pretty much out of commission for a week from straining my back really badly, and that more or less put me off my writing schedule quite a bit. But yep, thankfully I'm all better now! So I'm back with this short update, which basically sums up and ties up any loose ends of AKKG's past. But yep, head's up! We're getting really close to the one moment we've all been waiting for. Not that I'm going to tell you what it is. :p
But anyway, a huge heartfelt thank you for all the faves/alerts/reviews! I really, really appreciate the support! Also, credits to sushimiyuu for the beta! I am never more thankful for all your help. :)
And I'll be back (hopefully soon) with the next update, see you all then!
Oh! And to answer Guest LLL's question if I'm ever going to write an update with an actual game: Yes, I will. Eventually, haha. I know I've been kinda avoiding writing out the actual games and all, but we'll have one soon. Eventually.