Chapter Text
The walls of the unfamiliar high school seemingly close in on Suna as he tries to navigate his way around the new building he just transferred to. He follows the decorative red line tiled into the floor like it’ll take him where he needs to go, only to be led in yet another circle.
Two lefts and a right, right? That’s what the random guy outside the school told him when Suna asked for directions to the volleyball gym. Did he lie? Or did Suna miss a turn?
It’s not like his old school was any smaller. It was probably a little bigger and twice as hard to navigate when he started there as a freshman last year. But back then he had the company of hundreds of other lost students. Here he’s alone.
Transferring to a new school sucks. What sucks more is transferring during the second week of the semester, a week after introductions have been made and perfunctory friend groups have been set. Suna doesn’t even have a dorm roommate, a situation his classmates would probably envy but for him, it’s just one more lonely aspect of this whole experience.
At least he has volleyball. Or he would if he could just find the freaking gym.
It’s the last day of Golden Week. Usually, clubs are suspended then but Inarizaki High is a powerhouse school and they make good use of the extra free time.
Fuck. Another wrong turn has Suna cursing under his breath. This is the second time he’s walked past the outdoor courtyard. He wanted to get to the gym early but now he’s not sure if he’ll make it in time for the start of practice.
“OI SAMU I SWEAR TA GOD M’ GONNA KILL YA IF YA DON’T SHADDUP!!!”
The uncharacteristically loud screaming startles Suna. His head jerks in the direction of the disturbance, turning toward the other side of the courtyard. Is there a fight happening? He half-runs to the shouting, 10% with the intention of stopping the fight and 90% just hoping to see what’s happening.
Suna steps into the room and spots a blue and yellow volleyball near the back door. He half processes it’s the locker room he’s been looking for when— Oh.
Standing in the middle of the large open space of the changing area is a boy with silver hair, whose heavy-lidded eyes look unimpressed by whoever is yelling on the other side of the wall of lockers. Suna is entirely drawn in by this boy and for the first time since coming to this school, he feels a little excited.
Samu, according to the yeller, spares Suna a curious glance for a moment and Suna’s stomach flips at the eye contact, feeling caught. Before either of them can say anything the yelling continues.
“OI! ARE YA LISTENIN TA ME?”
Irritation pinches the guy’s previously calm face and he looks down at his feet before responding. “Tsumu all I said is I’ve got better things ta do than show up early to practice that’s already extra ta begin with.” His bored, tired voice is entrancing to Suna, laced with an accent he’s still new to. He wants to hear more.
A locker door slams shut on the other side of the room and feet stomp into view.
Oh– what?
The angry voice belongs to a boy almost identical to the one who Suna finds…very interesting. But this guy has poorly bleached blonde hair and an angry scowl. He glances briefly at Suna and then completely ignores him. Jerk.
“I told ya ta come early because we can’t stay late today. Better things ta do? I’ll make sure ya remember those words when we lose our first game because you suck,” Tsumu spits out before walking through the back door, kicking the volleyball as he leaves.
Yikes. Suna’s never been happier about being an only child.
The low thrumb of an above-ceiling fan becomes louder in the wake of the student’s tantrum. Across the room, Suna hears Samu click his tongue in annoyance.
Should he say something? Samu is looking down at his feet and seems pretty upset. Suna desperately wants to talk to him. Maybe cheer him up and make a good impression. He walks over tentatively and Samu looks up from his feet at the movement. Cool grey eyes meet Suna’s once again, carrying the same curiosity as earlier.
“Uh…hi, sorry to walk in on that,” Suna says slowly.
The guy continues to study him for a minute. “S’okay, he’s like that sometimes.”
Suna lets out a small chuckle. “You really got the short end of the stick having to share a face with that jackass,” he jokes.
The curious gaze hardens almost immediately and Suna instantly regrets his comment. Wait no fuck let me take it back.
“I don’t know who ya think you are but don’t ya dare talk shit about my brother.” Samu turns away from Suna and walks out the door his twin stomped through a few moments earlier, leaving Suna behind without a second glance.
“Oh my god no why did I say that?” Suna groans under his breath, raking both his hands through his hair.
He’s been here for less than five minutes and already he needs to apologize to someone. Not great. The pure look of dislike looms over Suna as he changes into his training clothes and tugs on his volleyball shoes. Should he apologize before practice starts or afterward?
“Were they fightin again?” A new voice says behind Suna. It’s so calm that somehow he doesn’t feel startled. He turns to find a shorter guy with black and white hair. What’s with everyone’s hair color on this team?
“My name is Kita Shinsuke, m' the captain of the Inarizaki High boy’s volleyball team. May I ask for yer name?” Kita introduces himself in a fairly monotone voice, but the tone isn’t disinterested.
“Suna Rintarou, it’s nice to meet you Kita-sempai,” Suna answers, trying his best to be polite.
A small smile forms momentarily on Kita’s lips. “Were the twins fighting? I thought I heard Atsumu yellin down the hall.”
Suna twists his hands in discomfort. He doesn’t want to be seen as a rat the moment he walks in the door. He also doesn’t want that guy Samu to hate him any more than he already seems to. Kita seems to sense his apprehension.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked ya that. It’s nice to meet you, Suna. Our coach told me to expect ya today. I believe ya transferred because our school recruited ya, correct?”
Suna smiles and bites his tongue. The recruitment is only a fraction of why he ended up coming to this school.
“I’m glad to see ya made it,” Kita says walking toward the gym.
Suna follows swiftly behind. “Yeah,” he allows himself to laugh a little, “this school feels like a giant maze to me right now.”
Kita’s face remains impassive at the joke and Suna tries not to mind.
When their feet hit the familiar flooring Suna finally stops feeling out of place. But just for a moment. When he looks up and sees the team of strangers huddled together on the far court Suna goes right back to feeling like an outsider. He pushes forward regardless, continuing to follow Kita across the court.
“Our coaches aren’t here today because it’s Golden Week so I’ll be running this practice. Let’s begin by introducing ya to the team.”
Kita steps in front of the team who are sitting in an unorganized semi-circle on the floor while looking expectantly at their captain. Suna feels a few glances thrown his way but Kita holds the attention of the room.
“Okay Suna, please introduce yerself.”
Suna smiles weakly and runs through the typical facts in his head. He hates introductions, never knowing how much to say.
“Hi, my name is Suna Rintarou. I’m a second-year transfer student from Asahigaoka High in Nagoya.” He leaves out the part about being recruited, it just feels like a brag.
The players nod and offer a few welcoming words and then announce their names one at a time. Suna forgets them all almost immediately after they’re shared.
“Miya Osamu,” Osamu says cooly. Their eyes meet for a moment before Osamu looks away.
“Miya Atsumu, what’s yer position,” Atsumu demands.
Oh right. Suna knew he’d forget something. “Middle blocker.”
His answer receives a tongue click from Atsumu which elicits a few groans from his teammates. “Seems ya might be a little short for that,” Atsumu says.
Is this guy serious? Irritation bubbles in Suna’s stomach. If these guys aren’t going to be nice, why should he? “That’s pretty hypocritical coming from you, wouldn’t you say?” Suna levels back. The guy isn’t short– neither is Suna. He isn’t going for accuracy with this dig, he just wants to get even.
Atsumu smirks a little and opens his mouth but his words fall short when Kita claps his hands twice. “The coach has asked us to hold a practice match today to assess Suna’s skills a bit. He’ll join the second-string team. Everyone, warm up and we’ll start in ten minutes. We have to leave the gym early so the student council can set up for the club assembly.”
With that, Kita turns to walk over to the equipment room and the rest of the team stands up to begin stretching. Suna falls into his old team’s stretching routine, trying not to feel immensely awkward. Normally he would reach for his phone and scroll through nothing to appear occupied but he can’t really do that right now.
He’s soon handed a dark maroon pinny by a teammate whose name he can’t remember. They assemble to their starting positions. Suna finds himself standing at the front of the net, face to face with Osamu who’s looking past him.
Suna swallows a lump in his throat and tries to calm his nerves from the unfortunate crush he seems to have caught. It’s not the time for that right now. He’s here today to prove why he deserves to play. Sure the coach saw him play among his old team and asked him to join Inarizaki– but that was just the first step. If he can’t keep up with this team the recruitment amounts to nothing but a red typeset invitation on beige cardstock.
Of course, he wasn’t recruited for nothing.
Suna’s middle blocker skills have two facets: a wide range of attack and excellent analytical abilities for reading blocks and coaxing spikers to make the plays he wants them to. Spiking will probably have to wait right now. That takes time and trust he hasn’t built up. No way is Suna missing his chance with this team on a spike that doesn’t connect. But blocking? That he can do.
Kita blows the whistle from the sideline and sneakers squeak against the floorboards as the players brace to receive the serve. Suna finds it a little strange that the captain isn’t playing in the starting formation, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on that when Atsumu smashes a frightening serve over the net. One of the second stringers digs it up, but Suna suspects it’s because they’ve seen it 100 times before, not because of their skill.
Here we go.
Suna starts off slow, analyzing the starters on the other side of the net. The starting team has already scored five points but Suna isn’t worried. It’s all necessary information. The spikers each have their tells and Suna is taking it all in.
Aran, the team's ace, frowns when he makes his approach. He knows Atsumu is about to lob the ball over to him and really make him work for it. The spiker’s irritation gives the play away, but his powerful smash sees the point through.
Ōmimi is a giant. Atsumu’s form is fantastic but even he needs to adjust his footing a little before sending a toss to this guy.
Ginjima is a little hesitant and swallows his worries as he makes his approach. It’s a classic habit of a second-year who’s just made the starting string and Suna sees right through it.
There’s so much information to take in, but the most interesting variable to Suna is that Atsumu has a twin. They’ve probably played together their whole lives. When Atsumu sets to Osamu, they are in perfect sync. There’s no communication, no glances, and zero reaction.
But that’s the tell.
When Aran begins his approach on the far side of the net, Atsumu turns to face him for the set and Suna’s team rushes over for the block and receive. Suna doesn’t fall for the fake.
It happens in the blink of an eye. Atsumu sets the ball backwards to Osamu who’s already made his silent approach, and Suna shuts it down, smashing the ball onto the other side of the net with a satisfied BAM.
Suna lands on his feet with his arms still raised. The bouncing ball echoes in the silent gym and he looks up at the twin’s shocked faces.
“Holy shit you read my set.” Atsumu barks out a laugh and Osamu swats at him.
Suna’s teammates rush over with cheers and high faves that Suna returns, half distracted by the still shocked expression Osamu is wearing. Notice me.
“Oi Sunarin!” Atsumu shouts while running to his starting position. “Let’s see ya do that again.” He sounds positively excited and Suna can’t help but crack a grin.
The game continues. Whistle, serve, block, receive, set, spike, repeat.
Suna falls into a rhythm and even manages a few spikes. He continues to move with the team, waiting and watching for the next game-stopping block.
But now they’re at match point of the one-set game. If the second-string team doesn’t receive this next spike they’ll lose.
The starting libero’s receive is a little shaky, forcing Atsumu to take an extra half-step to get to the ball. The twins move in unison and Suna joins them, following Osamu’s approach.
This time it feels like he’s walking into a trap. Probably a feint. Suna jumps a little higher than usual to cut it off and everything falls into slow motion. He and Osamu are inches apart at the net. His expressionless face morphs into a knowing smirk once they’re in the air.
It says gotchya. Osamu’s hands change from a spike to a set, tossing the ball back over to his bother who smashes it down ending the game.
Suna stumbles a little when he lands and takes deep breaths, hands on his knees. The exhaustion built up from the game hitting him all at once. Normally he’d be pissed after getting tricked like that, but right now he feels excited. He wants more. Suna looks up, hoping to say something to Osamu but he’s already walking off the court. Wait.
“Good game everyone. Please put the equipment away now and head home to rest and study. Suna, can ya come here for a moment?” Kita asks.
Begrudgingly, Suna heads over while his teammates rapidly clean up the gym around him. He can see a few students, probably student council members, already poking their heads into the room to see when they can start setting up.
“Ya played very well. I think the starting lineup would be even more effective with yer skillset. I’ll let the coach know.”
“Really?” Suna doesn’t mean to fish for compliments he’s just genuinely shocked. He knows he’s good, but not good enough to possibly be placed on the starting lineup of this powerhouse school so soon.
“Yes, but don’t take this lightly. Everyone here works very hard.” Kita pauses for a moment and glances up at a banner hanging from the wall. “Our motto isn’t just words to hang. We carry the mindset with us.”
Suna nods while scanning the kanji, ‘we don’t need the memories.’
“Still,” Kita says with a smile. “Congratulations.”
________
The walk back to his dorm building is less of a journey than the walk to the gym and Suna manages to only get lost once. When he opens the door to his dorm he remembers he still has so much to unpack. Suna groans and stares at the space that looks more like a storage locker with a bed than a room someone lives in.
Too tired to do anything he shoves the boxes around to make a path, thankful he at least unpacked his sheets. Suna lies down on the bed dramatically and opens his phone to scroll through Twitter. The room is eerily quiet. Just like his aunt's house. Just like his home when-
“SAMU YER CHEATIN I SWEAR TA GOD,” a familiar voice shouts across the hall.
There’s no way. But Suna doesn’t even have to go check. Osamu responds with just as much volume denying the cheating and saying Atsumu just sucks. The other boys in the hall start to shout for the Miyas to shut up and soon the whole building seems to be yelling. I’ll apologize tomorrow before practice, he promises himself as he nods off. Suna falls fast asleep, comforted by the noise.