At age fifteen, Yachi Hitoka is unsure about many things.
Being a jumpy and jittery person by nature, she tends to overthink everything - like literally everything.
She has trouble making her mind about if two starry pins clipping her bangs out of her face is too much or just right enough, and has much less of an idea about what she wants to do in the future. The very thought sends shivers down her spine, has her eyes spin wildly on themselves-
Point being, and here she has to interrupt her overactive imagination once again, Yachi Hitoka has this thing about being unable to make just about any decision. From what she'll wear, to what she'll eat to which novel she wants to read next, Yachi is indecisive - it's probably her main character trait.
One of the few things she is absolutely sure, 100% positive about, is that she does not want to be involved in a school club.
Not even close, not one bit.
One of her favorite traits about Karasuno high school is that while encouraged, after-school clubs are not mandatory. Not like they were at Teikou, the blonde thinks with only the barest hint of bitterness.
Yes, Hitoka has already given to the dark and mysterious domain of social interactions that come with club activities. She wants no part of the budding friendships over ice creams or the heartfelt encouragements from upperclassmen.
None of it.
So pray tell, Hitoka wants to slap herself silly or go hide in a hole and never come back to the surface, why in the world am I heading for volleyball practice?!
She's stupid, that's why, so undeniably stupid! Curse her weakness for pretty people, curse Shimizu-senpai and her ridiculously good looks, curse her weak will and curse this twisted world-
"I'm so glad you accepted," Hitoka almost cries when the older girl smiles, "Since school has already started almost three months ago, most people have already found an after-school activity," she doesn't dare look once more at the beautiful upperclassman, staring down at her feet as she follows Shimizu down the halls, "Those who haven't get intimated by the guys' rowdiness, but I swear they're all very welcoming and kind."
(sweaty palms messing up her hair, the regular shenanigans, the constant manhandling-)
She remembers that fierce protective streak, that steely look in Kiyoko's eyes that screams of my team, my boys.
Oh, oh that's familiar, her frantic thoughts come to a sudden halt and for a second it's like the world itself pauses as she's taken with this ridiculous urge to spill everything to her senpai.
To admit that she gets it, the rowdiness, the hopelessness that comes with being on the bench, all of it.
The petite girl's expression sharpens then, "I may not look like it, Shimizu-senpai," she says carefully, "But I know just how hard taking care of a team of teenage boys is, it's not an easy task even if they are as kind as you say they are. I'm not going to fall over from a breeze though, and I can take a bit of heat."
I know you don't have it easy, Hitoka almost blurts, and something in her aches at the sudden influx of memories that hits her like a slap to the face.
Because she remembers the term manager being written in her file, others somehow reading accessory. Because dedication is not always appreciated, and teenage boys are a hassle - whatever the school, whatever the sport.
However, brains and beauty make for a deadly combination, and Shimizu Kyoko is more observant than what Hitoka gave her credit for at first glance, "So you have prior experience?"
"Uh, well no...not as a volleyball team manager, no," Yachi feels like a cornered animal that has just fallen into a trap,
The beautiful third year looks profoundly amused at her kouhai's nervous stammering, and the mole on the left side of her chin curves along the edges of her smile, "What sport then?"
"Basketball," Yachi's face pinches and Kyoko drops the subject just as they reach the team's gymnasium, the sound of balls slamming into the ground and excited cheers reach their ears, "Nice one Noya!"
("Dammit Tetsu!" a voice higher pitched than the first cuts through the constant rhythm of running shoes, of basketballs slamming on the polished floor, "Mou! Aominecchi is so violent- Wha! Not the face, I need it for work! Momocchi, your pet is acting like a beast again!")
"Eh? You found another person!?" the exclamation and the numerous pairs of eyes suddenly on her make Hitoka squeal against her better judgment, even when she tries to steady on, to let nothing show.
Yeah, she's never been any good at that.
"E-eep!" her face pales when the persons in the gym all stalk closer, lips stretching into wide grins.
No, she tells herself not for the first time today, no way! I'll refuse Shimizu-senpai's offer after today's practice. It's only polite...
"She's here on a trial basis to be manager," Kyoko says when most of the boys are close, her chick-like charge shaking with fraying nerves at the attention on her poor, defenseless self.
The older girl's lips twitch when Yachi tries and hide behind her to escape the eager, curious gaze of the volleyball team. The blonde seems to be hyperventilating, fingers unconsciously gripping Shimizu's uniform shirt, how many of them are there?!
"I-I'm Yachi Hitoka!" a part of her soul shrivels and dies when she realizes just how terribly loud she's being and she bows lowly to hide the blush that colors her cheeks.
"Whoa," a dark-haired boy tilts his head respectfully in her direction as another with cream-colored hair smiles easily and effortlessly at his manager.
He seems like the kind of person who can put anyone at ease, which would certainly be Hitoka's case, were she not so deep within enemy territory, "That's amazing Kyoko! I knew you could find one."
I feel like a circus freak, Hitoka cannot help but furiously tug at the hem of her school uniform skirt nervously, wide eyes moving from one boy to the other as fast as she can manage. When Kiyoko shuffles a bit to the left, so does she - the older girl sends her an unimpressed look behind her shoulder but settles for it when she fears the first year might actually cry.
All of this goes unnoticed by the boys which have now shifted to circle the two girls. "Eh, so you're a first year?"
Stars above, this man is huge - was Hitoka any less of a mess, she might have seen how the corners of his eyes crinkle in a way that only genuine expressions of joy will curve features, how undoubtedly gentle this boy seems to be
"I-I'm in class 1-5, sir!" he has to be at least above 180cm, with an imposing build for a high schooler, damn it. "Asahi back up," someone warns, and too lost in her panic, she does not notice where the order comes from, "You're scaring her."
There's too many of them, the girl thinks as two figures creep behind the one with the soft smile and greyish hair, their eyes focused solely on her in a way that has her spine straightening, fa-far too many!
"Don't stare at her like that!" her savior slams his palms into the faces of the two who are gawking at her. Yachi squeaks when the boy who stands between the two boys and herself like a shield, further scolds them, "It's rude."
"Sorry, Suga!" The smaller boy does not look sorry at all and 'Suga' picks up on it with the loud sigh of someone who has to deal with this daily.
"Thank goodness," speaks the giant from earlier, the one with the hair tied into a low bun - Asahi she believes. Hiroka swallows with difficulty, repeating in her head that he has not given her any reason to be afraid - besides the fact that he could snap her like a twig if he wanted, "Now we'll have a manager for next year."
You'll what?!
Hitoka's eyes widen, taking up what seems to be half of her face - her expression of pure panic and bewilderment earns her a few worried glances. Her thoughts are barely coherent, even to herself and for a good second, she forgets to breathe, no! Ugh, how to say this is a misunderstanding without being rude?!
"She hasn't actually joined yet, it's a trial basis," Shimizu cuts in, taking a step back to drop a comforting hand over the blonde's shaking arm, "She just came by to introduce herself."
Intent on never showing her face to school ever again, Yachi hastily bows once again, "It's a pleasure to meet you!" Before she can make her escape, however, there are a dozen members surrounding her and bowing back.
The action is meant to be respectful and polite and nice - Hitoka promptly nopes out of this situation.
"Don't crowd her so soon, she's not used to you guys," Kiyoko scolds and earns herself lost, dumbfounded stares. The manager sighs, an apology on her lips as she turns towards the obviously overwhelmed younger girl.
However, the space that the blonde was occupying seconds earlier is now empty.
Deep blue eyes framed by long eyelashes raise a bit further down the entrance of the gymnasium to find the girl she was searching for, partly hidden by the door, "S-sorry for the intrusion!" the door slowly slides close.
With her heart jumping up to her throat, the first year takes the chance that Shimizu-senpai is not following and runs. So maybe she is just as cowardly as they ever thought she was, but there is no way she can deal with any of this.
("You're nothing but a coward," he sneers when she flinches, she lets herself slide down the wall she is leaning on when he walks out, boneless)
Poor Shimizu-senpai, Yachi wallows in what can only be defined as self-pity and perhaps a hint of remorse, she could not have chosen someone worse to ask to try out for the position.
("Useless Yacchin," it is not meant to be an insult, only a fact and she would rather he call her a thousand names similar to useless than he look at her with this cold, lazy apathy in the eyes that she can barely see from down here)
An ungraceful squawk leaves the girl's lips when she rams into something much bigger than herself, "Shit! I'm sorry!" Eyes the color of burnt sugar that are her own widen at the vulgar exclamation as she falls to the ground.
Yachi is helped up to her feet by an older man, the dyed hair and piercing irregular for the rural area they're in catch her attention. "-everything alright?" words fail her in front of the terrifying man and so she nods before once again running in direction of the hall leading out of the sport's wing.
Coach Keishin Ukai blinks as the strange girl leaves a trail of smoke in her wake.
Once she has regained a normal breathing rate, Hitoka begins to think more clearly and comes to two conclusions, the only ones that make sense to her:
One, she is cursed so that her every encounter with athletes ends up in total and undeniable disaster. And two, Kiyoko Shimizu has fans - those are never good, those always end up with stolen shoes and possibly very bloody deaths.
A shiver crawls up Yachi's spine as she leaves to walk back home, mind whirling. At least it's not basketball, it is a pitiful and weak reassurance and she knows it.