Chapter Text
It's safe to say that growth is an uncomfortable process.
D Smoke | Last Supper
Wakatoshi’s morning jog was hard.
Physically, he could have easily run for another ten kilometres, but his mind kept pulling him back to the safety and warmth of his unmade bed. Annoyed that a steady and peaceful rhythm was out of his reach, he grudgingly circled back to his complex. But by the time he made it up the steps to his apartment, he was breathing hard.
Looks like he needed more rest after all.
Before going in, Wakatoshi took note of the nearly empty bowls of kibble and water beside his front door. He needed to refill them soon. There were several stray cats in the neighbourhood, and he always tried to feed as many as he could while he was home. They gravitated to him when he first moved in, which he thought odd because he didn’t have any experience with cats, or any animals, as a child. He enjoyed their company, though, as they were independent and showed affection once a bond was formed. He wasn’t the easiest person to interact with, so he appreciated the simplicity of his relationship with them.
Sighing, he unzipped his sweater and tossed it absently on the dark green counter top. The apartment was bigger than initially wanted, but his mother insisted that he’d regret it if he chose something smaller. She said that it was always good to have extra room in case people came over. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t have much time to entertain considering he would be on the road for games. However, when he realized the extra space would mean that she would always be comfortable during visits, he quickly put an offer in for the apartment.
The troublesome feeling of guilt tugged at him as he thought of his mother. He hadn’t spoken to her in a few weeks. Not since the Adlers loss to the Jackals in the V.League finals. Actually, he needed to touch base with several people in addition to her. Leaning against the counter, he thumbed through his phone until his messages popped up.
20 unread texts stared at him earnestly. The latest one was from Kageyama-kun.
We should practice soon. Let me know when you’re free.
No apologies or words of comfort. He appreciated that. It seemed that Kageyama had already cut his losses and was getting ready for next season. He only knew of a few people that bounced back that quickly; Kageyama’s stubbornness and adaptability was an invaluable asset on the court.
The next message was from Romero-san.
Hey, Lefty. Drinks on me next time.
Wakatoshi wasn’t a huge drinker, but he enjoyed spending time with Romero. He was supportive and sociable, traits that he hoped would come easier to him one day.
Tendou-kun was next.
Don’t get too down, Toshi-kun! I’ll buy you all the Hayashi rice you want the next time I’m in Sendai.
That made him chuckle. Tendou must be really worried about him if he was willing to take a break from his chocolatier apprenticeship just go out for dinner in their hometown.
The rest of the messages were of a similar nature. Sympathies and offers to hang out when he was available. People were genuinely concerned for him, and he was grateful. He hoped he didn’t worry his them too much with his lack of response.
Normally, he responded to any messages immediately, but he wanted a bit of peace after a long season. A month, however, was pushing it. After downing a glass of orange juice, he decided to respond to them methodically after a short nap and a hot shower. He flopped ungracefully on the couch and stretched his long legs out, calves protesting slightly at the movement.
Wakatoshi closed his eyes and hoped sleep would come, but his thoughts were pulled back to the final set against the Jackals. Everyone knew the match would be a close one. The players on both teams were talented, competitive, and exceedingly stubborn. The Adlers had been the champions for the last three years, but the Jackals were eager to claim that title for themselves. Once the team found out who their opponents were, they prepared to play hard through all five sets.
Because the Jackals would do the same.
Wakatoshi was more than excited for the match, as he always relished the chance to play the best of his contemporaries. He was especially looking forward to paying Hinata back for snatching his last chance to go to the Spring Tournament seven years ago. Wakatoshi couldn’t wait to test the redhead’s newfound skills against his own. They had both evolved into formidable players since their last encounter.
But the Jackals still surprised him, despite having played them twice during the regular season. He had spent hours analyzing their strengths, weaknesses, and overall playing style. The Adlers were deadly in their precision and technical prowess, but the Jackals matched that with their unpredictability and tenacity. Miya’s charisma leant itself well to his unconventional spikers. Bokuto, Sakusa, and Hinata were the personification of baseless confidence and relentless determination. Wakatoshi’s most disliked traits.
The Adlers won the first two sets: 25-22 and 25-23.
The coaching staff was fairly confident that they team would take the final set and the match itself, with his, Houshiumi’s, and Romero’s spikes at textbook perfection. But Wakatoshi knew better. From across the court, he felt the energy shift in the Jackals’ team huddle. He could tell Hinata was rallying his team with some choice words; Bokuto was getting worked up, along with Sakusa. They weren’t going out quietly, and frankly, Wakatoshi would’ve been disappointed if they didn’t put up a fight.
The Jackals took the next two sets: 28-26 and 25-23.
Like most players Wakatoshi didn’t like being pushed to the fifth set, as switching courts halfway could effectively kill any hard-earned momentum. He scored the first few points of the set, connecting with Kageyama’s tosses like he always did. But a feeling a dread crept to the front of his mind once he felt that shift of energy again.
It started with Hinata and quickly spread to the rest of his team. The time he spent with Oikawa in Brazil had changed him. He was faster, smarter, and even more fearless than the first time they played. Wakatoshi had to stop himself from admiring his skill and presence. Miya had a grin on his face every time he set to the redhead. Few setters had the chance to work with a wing spiker like Hinata.
The Jackals disrupted the flow of the game with two hard volleys to the back corners of the court on the second hit. The placement confused the back-line players because the ball’s trajectory was on that razor-thin line of in and out. Indecision cost them two crucial points. Then, Sakusa forced him to dig for a few a tips that were just outside of his reach.
And shockingly, he was forced to tip when he realized that he couldn’t power his way through an impenetrable three-man block. It was sloppy and picked up with ease by the libero. This was new territory for him, and he normally wouldn’t have minded, but the unforgiving pace of the fifth set didn’t allow him enough time to adjust to their tactics.
The Jackals won the final set. 25-23. Hinata’s final kill blasted through a hole through his, Sokolov’s, and Romero’s outstretched arms.
Wakatoshi had never been one to dwell on the past, but he couldn’t help but remember his final loss against Karasuno seven years ago. He looked over at Hinata, who was currently dog-piled under his teammates and coaching staff. Their celebration was drowned out by the roaring and unruly crowd, shocked at the defeat of the defending champions.
The little redhead managed to best him again.
No. He was the Little Giant now.
Wakatoshi was still recovering from the outcome when Romero gently nudged his shoulder and said it was time to line up. The man’s darkly stubbled face was sweaty and flushed, probably not unlike his own. But he gave him a solid thump on his back and complimented his spikes before walking past, and it was all Wakatoshi could do to hold his head up high and line up with the rest of the team.
That was a month ago, he thought angrily, resting his forearm over his eyes. The pressure was somewhat comforting. Move on. He hated that he was still dwelling on this loss. That wasn’t like him. He felt out of place for the last month, unsure of how to process his feelings. He hated that even more. Why? He was already a champion, so why was this loss different? Was it because he failed in his duty as the Adlers’ Ace?
Or was it because Hinata beat him again?
His last coherent thought before he finally drifted off to sleep was a fierce promise that he would continue to push forward and improve.
No matter what stood in his way.
~
Riiiiing. Riiiiing. Riiiiing. Riiiiiii—
Wakatoshi turned over, causing the phone on his chest to fall face down onto the floor. The loud thud brought him back to reality. He rubbed his eyes gently with the heel of his hand. How long had he slept? And who was calling him? He briefly considered ignoring the call, but then remembered his decision to reach out to people again. Might as well start now. But by the time he reached his phone, the ringing had stopped. His brow furrowed when he saw the name pop up for the missed call.
SAITOU-SENSEI.
Curious, Wakatoshi sat up and pressed the call button.
“Hello?”
“Saitou-sensei, it’s Wakatoshi. I’m sorry I missed your call.” He smiled when the warm, familiar voice echoed in his ear.
“Oh, not to worry! I’m sure you wanted some peace and quiet after a busy season.”
“Yes,” he stated, leaning back on the plush cushions. “It’s good to be home.”
The excitement in his coach’s voice was instant. “Ah, I was hoping you’d say that! I know it’s last minute, but would you be interested in helping me coach a middle school rep team on Saturday?”
“Coach?” He echoed. Saturday was two days away.
“Just for this Saturday,” his sensei clarified. “My assistant is sick and having an extra pair of hands at practice is never a bad thing.”
Wakatoshi nodded in agreement. Having two coaches was always a benefit to the players. He learned as much from Saitou-sensei as he did Washijiou-sensei during his time at Shiratorizawa. “Where are you holding practice?”
He could hear the smile in sensei’s voice. “Home court. Shiratorizawa Academy. It’s from 1 to 4 in the afternoon.”
Wakatoshi’s eyes widened. He was already going to say yes because it was Saitou-sensei asking, but that solidified his decision. “If it’s acceptable, I’d like to be there at 11 to warm up. I haven’t played in a month.” He paused and tried to think of another way to help. “I can set the net up as well.”
“That would be great because I don’t have a manager yet.” Sensei sounded relieved. “I was planning on coming early and doing it myself, but I’m in Tokyo until Saturday morning.”
Wakatoshi shook his head. It wouldn’t take long for sensei’s young team to realize how lucky they were to have him as a coach. He was always willing to do everything to ensure everyone would have a good experience. “Please leave it to me.”
“You’re still reliable as ever, Wakatoshi-kun. I’ll take you out for dinner as a thank you.”
Wakatoshi’s ears grew hot. He never expected anything in return for helping. “T-that’s not necessary, sensei,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is the least I can do for the years you spent coaching me.”
“Ah, now you’re embarrassing me!” Sensei’s laugh was infectious. “It was a joy to help you grow into the player you are now. You played a hell of a game last month.”
Wakatoshi’s fingers tightened over his phone. Did he really play his absolute best? If he did, it still wasn’t enough to win against Hinata and—
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
Sensei’s steady voice effectively cut through Wakatoshi’s negative thoughts and insecurities. “I know you hate losing.” The smile returned to his tone. “But when you do, there’s no shame in losing to the best of them. It just happened to be the Jackals that day.”
Wakatoshi swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He didn’t realize how much he needed to be reassured that losing didn’t mean he was inadequate or lacking. He was just used to shouldering the burdens and pressure that came with being a top player. Not to mention the high expectations he set for himself. But that left no room for failure, and it was exhausting.
“Besides, you love playing more than you hate losing, right?” His sensei sounded hopeful, imploring. “I’m sure you’ll feel better once you get back on the court.”
Wakatoshi’s eyes widened. His love for volleyball was lost in the wake of self-pity. Suddenly, Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. He missed practicing until his arms and hands were red. He missed the satisfaction of hearing the ball land in the opponent’s court after a spike or a tip. And he missed growing and learning with his teammates.
“I-I’m looking forward to it,” Wakatoshi said softly. “Thank you, Saitou-sensei.” He still wasn’t the best at expressing his feelings, but he knew that sensei understood him enough to understand that he was grateful for the words of encouragement.
“Hey, now! You’re a coach now too, Ushijima-sensei. Get used to it. You’ll be hearing it a lot from the players on Saturday.”
Wakatoshi frowned. He was only filling in and didn’t deserve that distinction. “But it’s only for the day—”
His sensei laughed again. “Well, that still counts! I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“Goodbye, sensei.”
Wakatoshi placed his phone on the coffee table. The heaviness he felt in his chest throughout the last month was gone. Instead, he felt restless. Just like all the other times he took on a new challenge. It had been a long time since he trained anyone. Perhaps he could show these young players that falling short of a goal wasn’t the end of the world. And that having a solid support system was essential to growing as an individual and as a player. After embracing his newfound insights, a smile threatened split his face in two.
He was definitely getting into it.