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Haikyuu!! Winter Holidays Exchange 2015, One shots, Haikyuu!! Volleygirls
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2015-12-25
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Chin Up, We're Not Over Yet

Summary:

Yui is hard at work wooing Shimizu... to play for the girls volleyball team. Shimizu may have missed that last part.

Notes:

Dear aroceu, I really loved all your prompts and was inspired by what you said about romcom tropes, misunderstandings, and just a dash of "didn't realize we were dating." I hope you find it enjoyable!

Dear everyone, names of the Karasuno team were released and translated here, if you missed them, and I'm using them in this story so I thought I'd drop the link!

Work Text:

"Captain!" Mao doesn't even have to shout over the sounds of the team practicing, so few girls are moving. Instead, most of them are standing still, maybe making a feeble attempt at stretching. "Shouldn't we take a break about now?"

"We've barely started practice," Yui knows an un-captainly whine has entered her voice, but come on. Practice may have began an hour ago, but so many members were late that they couldn't start proper drills until over half an hour had passed. “If we don’t work hard now, we’ll only have ourselves to blame when we regret it later.”

"Well, people are losing steam," Mao says, tugging on her ponytail. "A bunch of the first years are worried about a big test, so maybe they'll focus better after some time studying?" She shrugs. "I'm worried if we don't, they might cut out early and then they won't practice and they'll have disobeyed you..."

Yui looks at the girls and sighs before nodding, trying not to look as glum as she feels. It hasn't been that long practicing with the new team, and already she knows she's lost them. She'll be understanding, sympathetic, give them time, and they'll just ask for more. There will always be a test, and who is she to say they aren't right to prioritize studying over practice for a team with no chance? Even with Interhigh just around the corner, none of them really think they have a shot at getting past the first round.

A better captain would know what to say to motivate them. Yui hasn't a clue.

She plasters a smile on her face and claps her hands a few times. "Okay!" she sings out. "Good effort, everyone! Sasaki, your footwork is getting a lot better, if you practice some more, I'm sure your receives will get stronger. Rinko, good hustle but don't be afraid to call out for balls even if you missed one before. Remember, it’s not over until you let it be! Let's take fifteen and meet back, okay? Try to stay warmed up."

Figuring she ought to do something useful during the break, she grabs the water bottles to refill them. They empty out surprisingly fast, she's noticed. So fast that she can't help but think her team might be using taking a drink as an excuse to avoid drills they dislike— but no, that's so unfair. She has no proof of that. They do need to stay hydrated.

Either way, the bottles need to be filled and she might as well do it.

Outside in the cool morning air, Yui stretches out her spine and indulges in another sigh. This wasn't exactly what she imagined when she pictured being a team captain. She'd pictured herself giving impassioned speeches that stirred scared first years into giving their all, maybe the team laughing together over training camps, crying together after losing but knowing they'd done their best.

In reality, when she opens her mouth all she can find are weak hearted cliches, almost a third of the team didn't make it to training camp this year, and when they lose, Yui fears that she'll be crying alone, knowing she could have been better. Should have been better.

"Wow, Kiyoko-san, you're going to do it?"

"Shut up, don't question it! Just give thanks for the sight we're about to be blessed with!"

Yui has never been able to help eavesdropping in on the boys team. They always sound like they're trying so hard, the air full with the sounds of rubber and people calling out for tosses. It was so different from her team, where they took breaks so often as numbers dwindled.

Sawamura wouldn't mind if she stuck her head in, surely. Just to see what kind of exercises he had the team doing, how he talked to them. Maybe she could pick up an idea or two.

Yui nods to herself and tries to infuse her demeanor with a bit more pep as she bounces up the stairs. "Hello!" she calls. "Just thought I'd come say— Eek!!"

Something comes hurtling through the air toward her and it's only her quick reflexes that let her bat it away before it can hit her. As it falls to the floor with a very un-volleyball-like clatter, she realizes it was an empty plastic water bottle, the kind used for serve drills.

"Michimiya, are you okay?" Sawamura is quick to hurry over, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, we didn't see you."

"Ahaha, it's fine, it's fine!" Yui flaps a hand, embarrassed at the squeak she let out and seeming so uncool in front of Sawamura and the other volleyball club boys. "Just a surprise! I didn't expect you guys to be doing those kind of drills."

"We were just messing around, really," Sawamura's vice-captain, Sugawara says. "But Shimizu-san told us she could do it, and, well, everyone wanted to see..."

"My apologies." Shimizu tucks a strand of long hair behind her ear, looking every bit the graceful beauty she's known as among the student body. "I'm glad you're okay."

"That was your serve?" Yui asks. "But... that was so good! To be so accurate, and have so much power! I didn't even know you played volleyball!"

"Oh," Shimizu says, retucking the same strand of hair and managing to make the now useless gesture look just as elegant the second time around. "I don't, um. I used to play sports, but not volleyball... I picked it up from watching, mostly."

"Really?" Yui leans forward, giving Shimizu a more thorough once-over than she ever had in the past. She has a good build for a volleyball player, not too short and lean enough to get a good jump. To have enough natural athletic skill to become that good at serving just from watching the boys play...

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sawamura asks, drawing Yui out of her thoughts.

"Hmm? I'm fine, fine!" Yui says and waves a hand. "Gotta run, back to practice and all! See you around!" She's out the door before they can ask what she was doing there in the first place. Her minds too full with plans to talk.

A talent like that shouldn't be stolen by the boys team, Yui has decided. She's been in search of something to revitalize the team, something they can rally around to make them feel like they have a chance.

Shimizu Kiyoko is everything Yui needs.

Yui isn't sure where a girl like Shimizu eats her lunch. Surrounded by admirers, somewhere, surely. After all, Shimizu is one of the prettiest girls in the year, so she's sure to be popular, Yui thinks.

She's come up with at least three plans on how to steal Shimizu away from her fans by the time the bell for lunch rings. She bids a hasty goodbye to her friends, promising to spend time with them later to make up for ducking out, and hurries to class 2 before she can think better of it.

"Shimizu-san," she calls out as she enters and draws up, surprised.

Shimizu is seated alone in the back of the classroom, head tilted forward so that her hair falls as a curtain masking her face from the world. Where are all her friends?

"Er," Shimizu says in the same quiet voice she used before, blinking up out of her hair with owlishly large eyes that somehow seem even more gorgeous in confusion. "Um?"

"Sorry to bother you," Yui says. Maybe Shimizu's friends just haven't gotten here yet. She had rushed over from her own class, after all. "I was hoping we could have a chance to talk, if you don't mind."

"Oh!" Shimizu says, shifting a little in her chair. She moves her things to make room for Yui's lunch, tucking a book into her bag before Yui can catch the title and moving her own food back. She has a pretty bento, of course, in a pink box that makes Yui sigh longingly. Not that her own box isn't cute, but she's dropped it a few times, and had a pen run on it in her bag, and it just generally isn't quite so pretty anymore.

"Are you sure you don't mind me stealing your time?" Yui asks, feeling the tiniest bit shabby next to Shimizu. Maybe that's why the other students who'd stayed in the class are giving them looks of such surprise. "I don't want to impose."

"You're not," Shimizu says. "I wasn't doing anything... Is there something I can help you with?"

Yui takes a bite of her food to gain some time to think. Now that she's actually here, it feels so hard to ask if Shimizu would ever consider joining her team. Was trying to poach her away from Sawamura's team too underhanded?

"Weeeell," she says, drawing out the word as long as she can. "I wanted to talk to you about... how is it, being the manager of the boys team? Do you enjoy it?"

"It's nice," Shimizu says. Each word she says seems to be chosen and spoken with care, making them all the more precious sounding even when she's not saying much at all. "The boys are... we have a good team, this year."

"Oh?" Yui says. She's proud of Sawamura for all he's done, pulling his team together, even if it does make her jealous sometimes. "It must be weird, though, being the only girl with all those guys."

Shimizu blushes and nods, leaning forward like they are sharing a secret. Yui finds herself leaning in, too. "They can be so ridiculous, sometimes," she says and wrinkles her nose. "And smelly."

"Gross," Yui says with a giggle. She has a younger cousin in middle school who is still refusing to believe he needs deodorant. She can more than imagine the awful smells Shimizu has had to put up with.

"It is," Shimizu says. "But I like them."

"How did you decide to be a manager?" Yui asks, deciding to try a slightly different tack. "You said you used to play, um..."

"I was on the swim team," Shimizu says. "I did backstroke, but..."

"You didn't like it?"

Shimizu shrugs. "I didn't mind it. But in my last year of middle school, I hurt my shoulder and had to sit out, and the doctor recommended that I take a full year off."

"Oh no," Yui says. "Is your shoulder okay now?"

"Yes," Shimizu says. "But I liked working with the team my first year, so I decided to stay."

"You don't miss your old team?" Yui props her head on her hand, genuinely curious.

"I wasn't that close to them," Shimizu says, ducking her head. "I'm not very... we weren't close."

Yui nods, wondering if her teammates had been too intimidated by Shimizu to get close to her. She could easily see that happening, though as a captain it would be her job to push past such fear for the sake of the team.

"And you're, um, captain of the girls team?" Shimizu says when the lull in the conversation has stretched just far enough to be uncomfortable.

"Yes!" Yui says, eager to jump on such an excellently presented opportunity to talk up her team. "We might not be as flashy as the boys team, but we're not bad! Mao, er, Aihara has a pretty powerful straight, and we have some pretty good blockers, too!"

"That's good," Shimizu says. "Have you had any practice matches this year?"

Yui nods and talks about the match they had against one of the other high schools at the end of training camp, trying to swallow down her bitterness over the fact that she's sure that their loss is why the team has fallen apart so much.

Shimizu nods and asks good questions, the kinds only someone who knows a lot about volleyball would think to ask, and she doesn't seem put off by Yui's drive at all, even when hearing about the gaps in the team's strengths. Yui gets so absorbed in the conversation that she completely forgets her original purpose of asking her to join the team until the bell rings.

"Late," Yui yelps, picturing her teacher's implacable frown already. She hurriedly grabs her things, trying not to make too big of a mess out of herself. "Um, this was really nice!"

"Yes," Shimizu says, a strange note of relief in her words.

"We should, um, I actually came here to ask you to consider, maybe," Yui swallows, tripping over herself. "Ah, I know it probably hasn't crossed your mind, and you're used to being around boys now, but if you give me a chance..."

"'Scuse me," someone says, jostling Yui as he makes his way back to the seat she'd taken. Shoot, she's really going to be late...

"We can talk after practice," Shimizu says and turns pink. "I mean, if you..."

"That sounds great!" Yui says with a grin, relieved that Shimizu seems to have understood her. "I'll see you then!"

Even though the smile Shimizu gives her is a small, shy thing, the sight of it warms Yui through the rush back to her classroom and her teacher's angry lecture.

Yui is slipping her shoes back on when Sasaki tells her there's a girl waiting for her outside the clubroom. Shimizu looks lovely in the soft pink light of the sunset, her elegantly long fingers fiddling with the strap of her bag.

"Sorry if I kept you waiting," Yui says as she walks up, smiling. "I had to lock up the room, and all."

"Oh, no," Shimizu says. "I wasn't waiting that long, really. I was just... Your team seems nice."

"They are," Yui says as they start walking. She's not really sure where they should be going. What kind of place would be good for trying to woo Shimizu to the volleyball club? Maybe she should have had Shimizu meet her while the gym was still open and they could play together. "Well, some of the first years don't really practice as much as they should, and it's hard to get them to listen to me..."

"Our first years can be troublesome, too," Shimizu says. "I mean, most of them care a lot, but they fight and don't listen unless our captain gets mad."

"I've never seen Sawamura get mad before," Yui says and shakes her head. "I guess it makes me feel better that even he struggles with his team. Sometimes it feels almost as if everyone else got some memo, telling them how to get people to listen to them and try their best, and I just... missed it."

"Sometimes I feel that way, too," Shimizu admits, going back to fiddling with her bag. "Not about— not exactly the same, but about how to be... bubbly. Have friends."

Yui laughs. "I doubt that's something you need to worry about," she says, expecting Shimizu to smile, maybe play her popularity off demurely.

Instead, she just looks down for a few long moments. "I do, actually," she says. "I don't really have... It's hard for me to find people to get close to."

"Really?" Yui asks. "But you must get approached all the time! I mean, I know how popular you are with guys, even I've noticed how many confessions you've gotten, and I came up to you, too..." Oh no, when she put it that way, it kind of sounded like she was just another person bothering Shimizu just to be rejected. Maybe Shimizu was just too nice to send her away but was annoyed at being disturbed.

"I, well, that does happen," Shimizu says, moving from playing with her bag strap to fiddling with her hair. "But I never really know what to say to them. I mean, it was different with you for the obvious... since you're a girl." She blushes and looks away.

That makes sense, then. Yui can imagine how it would be hard to have to reject all those guys who don't know anything but how pretty Shimizu looks. It would be a relief, to be approached by a girl instead, and not have to worry about any ulterior motives.

Well. Not that Yui doesn't have an ulterior motive. But it's a nice one, really. Trying to get Shimizu to be part of team, what isn't nice about that? So she really shouldn't feel guilty. It would be win-win, it seems, to get Shimizu onto the team. Shimizu could make more friends and the team would add another strong player. Good for everyone involved, except maybe the boys, who'd have to look after themselves for a change.

Belatedly, Yui realizes Shimizu has kept talking while she's been off in her little tangent.

"—I really admire your dedication to your team," Shimizu says. "I've noticed a lot about you, so when you approached me, it made me really happy. I... I'd like to get to know you better, if you're still interested."

"Of course!" Yui says, relieved that she was able to disguise that she'd gotten lost in her own thoughts. "I'd really, really like that."

Shimizu turns incredibly pink at that. She really must have been telling the truth about not being used to having friends, to be so embarrassed and pleased at someone wanting to spend time with her. It makes Yui feel kind of funny, special and protective all at once.

“Would you like to come back to my place?” Yui offers on a whim. “To study together, I mean? And have dinner,” she adds, thinking of the time.

“Really?” Shimizu asks, looking like eating and studying together is a wondrous idea that Yui has just personally invented all for them. “I’d love to, if I wouldn’t be imposing.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Yui says with a wave of her hand. “My mom works the night shift and it’s hard to get excited about cooking just for yourself… As long as you don’t mind stopping at the grocery store, we can cook something together.”

Shimizu nods and Yui leads the way to the store she usually shops at, waving at the tired boy manning the register.

“Are you in the mood for anything in particular?” she asks, humming over the meats. “I’m always hungry after practice, but I’m not very picky. I’m pretty simple, really.” Gosh, what was it about Shimizu that made Yui babble like an idiot at any opportunity?

“I’m not picky, either,” Shimizu says. “But I’m not a very good cook. Er, I’m not bad, but my older brother usually cooks for us at home.”

“Don’t worry, I’m used to cooking,” Yui says. “I have some stewed eggplant at home already that is pretty good. Oh, these sardines are on special!” She held up the packet. “Do you like sardine balls in soup?”

“Sounds good,” Shimizu says. “What else do we need?”

With Yui directing, they quickly gather the ingredients and before she knows it, Yui is letting Shimizu into her apartment, furtively kicking some of the low-quality shounen manga she likes to read under the couch when she thinks Shimizu isn’t looking.

“This is so cute,” Shimizu says, picking up a very orange picture frame encrusted with glitter and seashells, a snapshot of a young girl grinning out from within it.

“Oh, that’s so embarrassing,” Yui says, hurriedly turning away to set up the countertop. “I made that stupid frame when I was eight and thought more sparkles was always the best, and I keep telling my mom it looks ridiculous, but she won’t let me throw it out.”

“It’s sweet,” Shimizu says. “And it is very… sparkly. But I like it.”

“You should see the ones on her desk at work,” Yui says. “Family, right? She says if she doesn’t embarrass me at least once a day, she isn’t doing her job right.”

Shimizu laughs and comes to join Yui in the kitchen. “What should I do first?” she asks.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to gut and bone the fish?” Yui asks, holding up the fish packet and smiles at Shimizu’s wide-eyed nod. “It’s not that hard with these small ones — but don’t worry. You can be the official chopper.”

“That makes it sound so fancy,” Shimizu says and takes the knife Yui offers. “What should I chop first?”

“The green onion, and then ginger,” Yui says. “I like to use ginger in both the balls and the soup, I just really like how it tastes. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Shimizu assures her and they set to work.

They fall into an easy rhythm. Shimizu is good at following directions and doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty, Yui is glad to see. Those are good traits for a player, she thinks. She needs more people on the team that will listen to her and won’t complain about doing drills.

More than that, though, it’s also just fun to cook with someone else. The kitchen is small, so they should be tripping all over each other the way like Yui and her mom did when they’d tried to cook together, but somehow it’s no bother. Oh, they brush up against each other, quite a lot actually, but instead of being annoying, it’s kind of nice. Like when their elbows bump as Yui works over the sink and Shimizu cubes tofu for the miso and Yui feels pleasant tingles up and her arm, or when Shimizu leans in over her shoulder to check the rice and there’s just a hint of pressure against Yui’s upper back that makes her mouth go dry.

It’s all a bit odd, actually, if Yui stops to think about it, but it feels nice, sort of exhilarating, so she decides not to think about it.

"Now we just have to wait," Yui says, lowering the heat on the stovetop. She grabs a towel to wipe off her hands and passes it to Shimizu. "It won't take long."

"You have a little bit, um," Shimizu gestures at Yui's cheek. "No, to the left a little... here." She reaches up and her fingers brush against Yui's cheek and making her jump. Her fingers are so warm, Yui wouldn't have expected them to be so warm, but she can feel the heat melting into her even after Shimizu pulls away.

"We should, we should, studying, that's what we, er, yes." Yui's mouth felt like it was moving of its own accord, scrambling desperately in an attempt to cover her mind's sudden blankness. She swallowed hard and forced herself to calm down. "I mean, we have time to start studying before the food is ready."

"Okay," Shimizu says, smiling. She has a small smile, the kind given in private moments, lips curved like a quiet promise, and goodness, Yui needs to get her wandering mind under control. What is wrong with her tonight?

They start out with English, where their homework isn't too different despite being in different classes. Yui's not bad at English, but she finds she has a hard time concentrating. Shimizu Kyoko in her house, sitting on her floor and chewing on the end of her pencil thoughtfully, seems too surreal to be true.

"So, how'd you decide to be the manager for the volleyball team?" Yui asks, hoping that conversation will help disguise how flustered she is. She needs to focus on her original goal, that's all.

"Sawamura asked me," Shimizu says, letting her pencil fall so quickly that Yui wonders if she wasn't having just as much trouble actually working as Yui was. "He went around looking for first years who weren't in any clubs. To help with organization, keeping the team together. He was thinking about how to get to Nationals, even back then."

"I didn't know that," Yui says. "Man... I guess the really good captains are like that from the very beginning, huh?" She drops her head onto her hand, looking down. "When I was a first year I was thinking about... ugh, I don't even remember. Keeping my serve in bounds."

"I wasn't thinking about much of anything," Shimizu says. "I never really had dreams of my own. I honestly agreed to try out being the manager just because I was so surprised Sawamura came to talk to me..."

"So you mean, if I had been the one to come up to you, you might have joined the girls team?" Yui asks and remembers Shimizu was injured. "As the manager at first, at least?"

"Maybe," Shimizu says. "If you asked, probably."

"Ahhh, what a shame," Yui says. "I would have been intimidated to ask you, anyway. Just talking to you today was..." She shivers.

"Oh, please, you don't need to be intimidated by me," Shimizu says, voice heated as she grabs Yui's hand. "I meant what I said earlier, about how much I admire you. You... you don't have anything to be intimidated about, Michimiya-san, I promise."

Yui looks down at where their hands are tangled together, Shimizu's grip just tight enough that Yui can feel the lines of her hands. Shimizu has a blister, she realizes, coming in on the side of her index finger. It's so human, so real, and suddenly she doesn't seem out of place in Yui's apartment at all.

"You should call me Yui," she says, voice scratchy.

Shimizu flushes, letting go of Yui's hand. "Then, you should call me Kiyoko," she says, placing her hand back on the table, still close to Yui.

They go back to their homework, fingers still brushing together.

The next day, Yui decides that while yesterday was a good start, she needs to remain focused. Cooking and chatting with Kiyoko was nice, really, really nice, but volleyball needs to be the priority.

With that in mind, she constructs a new plan. She hangs out with Kiyoko during lunch and sometimes after school, does some research, and on Saturday invites her to hang out on Sunday at the sports center near her house.

"It has a pool," Yui explains, waving her hands around to illustrate. "So we can go swimming! You can teach me what the different strokes are."

The real plan, of course, is unrelated to the pool. The real plan is to get Kiyoko to practice some volleyball, maybe do her serve again so Yui can gush over it. Then Kiyoko can see how fun playing together is, Yui can mention what a shame it is that they can't do a proper match with just the two of them. Before Kiyoko even knows what's happening, Yui will have trickily gotten her to agree to do a three on three match with some of the second and third years from the team. From there it's only a hop, skip, and a jump to Kiyoko joining the team, Yui is positive.

Her plan works perfectly, at least in the beginning. Kiyoko easily lets herself be led astray from route to the pool, seeming amused and not at all upset over the idea that Yui can't bring herself to walk by a gym without practicing at least a little volleyball.

"I don't mind at all," she says, pulling her hair up into ponytail. Yui finds herself unable to look away from where the ends of the long strands brush the back of Kiyoko's neck. Her neck is so graceful, long like a model, and maybe that's a totally weird thing to notice about someone, but she can't stop staring at it and wondering if it feels as soft and warm as it looks.

"Great!" Yui makes herself say, forcing her eyes down to her gym bag. "Do you mind running, um, passing drills with me?"

Kiyoko smiles and gets into receiving position, so the first part of Yui's plan is working perfectly, or so it seems. Kiyoko is good at receives, not perfect but good, and it's so nice to have someone to practice with that doesn't complain or not-so-subtly check out the clock the whole time.

The first snag comes when she starts to push Kiyoko to show her serve again.

"Oh, It's really nothing," Kiyoko says. "I'd like to see your serve, actually."

And Yui can't say no, not if she's going to keep asking Kiyoko to show hers, so she serves and Kiyoko looks so admiring, her eyes moving over Yui's body in a way that makes Yui's heart pick up steam, and so she's really not in a good place to argue when Kiyoko asks her to do it again, and again.

"Come on, fair is fair," she finally says, adding a touch of a laugh to her voice to keep it light. "You have to do some, too, before I wear myself out."

"Well, I'm not as good as you," Kiyoko says. "I haven't practiced it that much."

"I won't laugh or judge," Yui promises and takes a sip from her water bottle at Kiyoko spins the ball in her hands.

She looks like she belongs on the court, Yui thinks, composed and graceful with her long limbs and intense eyes. She could get contacts or sports glasses, and Yui has to stop thinking about that as Kiyoko tosses the ball in the air... and whiffs it.

"Er," Kiyoko says and chases after the ball. She tosses it up again and manages to hit it this time, but it goes short, hitting the net. "Um," she says.

"It's okay," Yui says, confused. Kiyoko's serve before hadn't looked like an accident, beginner's luck, but maybe she was wrong? She was usually so good at judging these things...

"It's hard to do it in front of you," Kiyoko says, swallowing, and Yui realizes that for some reason she can't understand. Kiyoko is actually intimidated by her. Her!

"Don't worry!" she says, flapping her hands. "Almost everyone gets nervous in front of an audience, especially if you aren't used to it. Why don't we do something else for a bit? We can go back to passing... or race!"

Kiyoko, it turns out, is really, really fast. She beats Yui five times in a row and when Yui wins the sixth time, she has massive suspicions that Kiyoko didn't give it her all.

At least she clearly was trying hard enough to wear herself out. A flush has spread across her skin and she's panting, sweat beading down the sides of her neck and dampening her pink t-shirt slightly. She still looks incredible, hair escaping from her ponytail in wisps that softens her hard angles, making her seem more approachable.

Now more than ever, Yui can see why so many of the guys consider Kiyoko to be the epitome of sexiness. She looks it, stretching out her back and moaning slightly. When she reaches over her head and her shirt climbs, Yui can almost feel her brain melting.

"Hot," she squeaks. "I mean, it's hot, we should go to the pool now, um, don't you think?" She sounds like an idiot, why do her cheeks feel like they are going to burn right into a different dimension, she has to splash the rest of her water bottle over her head to relieve it.

"Yes," Kiyoko's voice sounds slightly strangled. "I saw showers through there. Um. Actually, I think I'll go to the bathroom, but I'll catch up with you?"

"Okay," Yui says quickly, glad to have a chance to calm herself down for a minute. She showers fast and changes into the swimsuit she brought from home. She doesn't go swimming a lot, so she'd grabbed the first one she'd found, a teal bikini with large print of starfish and flip-flops over it. She thinks she looks cute enough in it, though she doesn't know why she cares so very much.

The pool is mostly empty when she gets there, only a couple older people swimming laps. She guesses most people their age are on dates, or else studying. She shakes her head and dips her toe in the water, deciding it's not too bad. She's worked her way up to sticking her whole foot in when Kiyoko arrives afterward.

Her hair is down, wet from the shower, and her eyes light up when she sees Yui and starts to make her way over. Yui is ashamed to admit that's about all she could take in from the above-the-neck portion of her newest friend.

Maybe it's completely shallow, but damn does Kiyoko look amazing in a swimsuit. It's a one piece, so it's not even like it's revealing all that much more of her than Yui could see before in her t-shirt and shorts, but what she can see... Kiyoko is gorgeous. The black and white floral swimsuit hugs her body from tuck of her waist to the curves of her breasts and geez, when did Yui start ogling her friends, how ridiculous. She must be just jealous, she could never look that good in a swimsuit. She almost feels a little tacky, now, in her brightly colored bikini.

"You look so," Kiyoko says and pauses, searching for the right word. Oh no, she must think Yui looks tacky, too. "Cute," she says.

"It's an old swimsuit, really, I just bought it on some vacation," Yui explains awkwardly.

"It looks really good on you," Kiyoko says, gaze hovering somewhere around Yui's thighs. "Really."

"You too," Yui says and blushes. "I mean, you look good, too, your suit does, I love the pattern, and the color, or I mean, the lack of color, it looks really elegant, it suits you."

"My suit suits me?" Kiyoko says, smiling. "I'm glad."

"We should get in the water and I should shut up!" Yui takes her own advice as quickly as possible, jumping into the water while bringing her knees up to her chest in a cannonball. The shock of cold water is exactly what she needed, setting her mind adrift from the awkward, babbling girl that Kiyoko always seems to turn her into. Gosh, if she ever wants to impress Kiyoko as a competent captain, she'll really have to get over that.

A splash lets her know that Kiyoko has followed her example and jumped in. Yui opens her eyes under the water, ignoring the sting of chlorine. Kiyoko shimmers under the water, limbs distorted by the ripples and bubbles. She has her eyes open, too, and when she sees Yui looking, she waves.

They break the surface together, Yui gasping for breath.

"It's cold!" Kiyoko says, a laugh in her voice. "Want to race to the other side of the pool?"

Yui makes a face. "You'll just beat me again," she says. "Can you do a handstand?"

Kiyoko sucks in a breath and slips under the water. A few seconds later, her legs appear, wavering and then pointing up. When she resurfaces the right way around once more, Yui applauds.

"I always list to the side," she confesses, wrinkling her nose. "Oooh, can you show me how to do that fancy underwater turn swimmers do?"

"A flip turn? Sure," Kiyoko says, and does. Somehow, that turns into a contest of who can do the most summersaults underwater (Kiyoko), which turns into seeing who can splash the most water at the other one (Yui), which does, eventually, turn into a race that gets them told off by one of the exercising older women at the pool.

Finally, tired and uninterested in provoking anyone else's wrath, they end up floating next to each other, staring up at the sport center ceiling. Kiyoko keeps accidentally floating away, so before she really knows what she's doing, Yui has grabbed her hand to tether them together.

"This has been so much fun," Kiyoko says. "I can't remember the last time I went out with someone like this and really enjoyed myself."

"Same here," Yui says, realizing just how true that is. Spending time with Kiyoko is... even when it's not easy, even when it's awkward and Yui says something ridiculous and wishes the ground could swallow her, she still somehow is enjoying herself all the same.

"Those are pretty," Yui says, reaching up with her free hand to point at the floral pattern on the ceiling, some kind of yellow bloom done in tiles. "I wonder what they are..."

"Camellias," Kiyoko says. "Yellow ones like that represent longing."

"Wow," Yui says. "I don't know any flower meanings... do you like to garden?"

"I do," Kiyoko says. "My mother always did, and my brother still does. I do when I have time, though I usually don't nowadays... Do you like flowers?"

"Sure," Yui says. "I mean, I'm no good at growing them, though I've tried, too scatterbrained, but..."

"There's a ikebana flower exhibition later this season," Kiyoko says. "My brother always competes in it, he does flower arranging. It's a week after Interhigh. Do you... would you like to come with me?"

"Yes," Yui says instantly. She's not exactly sure how this figures into her grand plan of recruiting Kiyoko to the volleyball team, but she is sure that she doesn't want to pass up the opportunity to spend more time with her.

"I'm glad," Kiyoko says and raises their joined fingers. "We're turning into prunes," she says.

"We should get out soon," Yui says, though she's in no rush. The calm sounds of the water lapping the pool walls, the lights playing off the ceiling, and Kiyoko's hand in hers have lulled her into a complete sense of calm.

"Soon," Kiyoko says, and she makes no move to get out, either.

"You've seemed less worried lately," Mao says as they unlock the clubroom, waving at the first years who are greeting them with calls of Michimiya-senpai and Aihara-senpai. "I'm glad you aren't beating yourself up about the team's performance. There's nothing you could do, we're just not that kind of team."

"I have a secret weapon," Yui says, doing her best to seem confident and mysterious.

"A weapon?" Mao’s eyebrows shoot up. "That sounds... unlikely. Sorry, Yui, but what kind of secret weapon are you talking about?"

"I can't tell you," Yui says. "It's still in the works."

Mao purses her lips. "It's not that I'm not glad that you're working hard," she says carefully. "And obviously I want us to all do our best, but... Yui, I don't want you to get your hopes up only to have them crushed. You can't carry this whole team yourself."

"I know that," Yui says. "I just want to do the best I can, so at the end I don't have regrets."

"Just be careful," Mao says, reaching out to squeeze Yui's arm briefly. She must be really worried, Yui realizes, because Mao usually avoids too much physical contact. "None of us want to see you get hurt."

Yui bites back a mean response, one where she points out if her team really doesn't want to see her hurt, maybe they should stop hurting her by not showing up, by not listening. It's not personal, she tells herself, although it feels personal when every other captain she knows can do better.

"I know," Yui says. "And thank you, for caring. But if I don't do all I can, I'm sure I'll have more regrets. It’s not over until you let it be, right?"

That night she walks home with Kiyoko and tells her about the conversation, skipping any incriminating details.

"I just feel like I'm the only one who really even gives a— who it matters to, whether we play well or not. And I don't know why I can't motivate them." She shakes her head. "It's like we're speaking different languages. Everyone else has given up before we've even gotten to the first game!"

Kiyoko makes a soothing noise and Yui sighs, kicking out at a pebble.

"Maybe they're right," she says in a quiet voice. "Maybe I'm just being an idiot."

"I think it's brave," Kiyoko says. "To put so much of yourself into something that you know might not work."

"Or stupid," Yui says.

Kiyoko reaches out to hold Yui's hand. "There are worse things to be," she says, pressing their palms together.

It's strange, Yui thinks. If anything, Kiyoko is even more averse to too much physical contact than Mao is, but she twines their fingers together so easily.

Kiyoko is just like that. Yui knows, now, how awkward she really feels, wonders how she could have missed it before beneath Kiyoko's good looks, but sometimes she can set Yui to rights with just the smallest word or gesture and restore all her confidence.

They spend more and more time together and Yui finds herself sometimes forgetting her original goal in her enjoyment of just how easy it is, to be around her. It's nothing like the prickling insecurity and irritation that underlies her relationships with her teammates now, or the amused lack of understanding she gets from her other friends.

Kiyoko makes her feel so good.

Two weeks later, it all comes crashing down.

They're doing homework together in Kiyoko's room, at least in theory. In actuality, they had been listening to music, and Yui had said she didn’t recognize the band, and Kiyoko had pulled out a magazine to show her, and Yui had mentioned liking the french braid one girl was sporting, and Kiyoko had said she never could get the hang of doing those herself, and, well, it had ended up with Kiyoko's head half in her lap and Yui twisting her hair into several sections.

"And then we realized that the first year was scared, thinking Asahi was angry with him, when all he wanted to do was help... I thought Sawamura might chew him out in front of both teams just for the way his face looks." Kiyoko chuckles, a beautiful sound.

Yui joins her in giggles. "Your team certainly keeps things interesting," she says. "Poor Asahi-san. I was scared of him, too, when we first met. He's so imposing."

"He's the sweetest guy on the team, really," Kiyoko says. "He's nothing like he looks."

"Kind of like you?" Yui asks.

"I hope I don't come across as scary." Kiyoko shivers as Yui's nails brush against her scalp. "Do I?"

"Sorry," Yui says about the nails and then hums thoughtfully. "Scary might not be the right word. Not like Asahi-san, anyway. But you seem so cool."

"I'm not cool at all," Kiyoko says. "I don't know where people get that idea."

"Probably because you're so beautiful," Yui says, putting a teasing lilt into her voice. "So sexy and mysterious, Kiyoko-chan!"

"Oh, don't you start," Kiyoko says, wiggling so she can poke Yui lightly with an elbow.

"Am I not allowed to find you beautiful?" Yui asks, tugging gently on Kiyoko's hair.

"Well, I'd hope you do, at least," Kiyoko says, letting up on her fidgeting. "Since we're dating and all." Her tone is light, as if just a continuation of their gentle teasing.

"Since when?" Yui asks, snickering. "I think I'd remember something like that."

To her surprise, instead of laughing and joking back, Kiyoko goes still for a moment and then pulls away, turning on her knees to face Yui. A wrinkle has appeared between her brows and her mouth is tight, not quite a frown yet but on the way there.

"What are you talking about?" Kiyoko asks. "Is this some kind of joke I don't understand?"

"I could be asking you that," Yui says. Her stomach feels like it's falling, as if she's just stepped off a ledge, but she didn't even know one was there. "You're not... You aren't serious, about us dating, are you?"

"You asked me out," Kiyoko says. "You... asked me to consider you, and then we went to your house."

"I wasn't asking you out," Yui says, so surprised she feels almost numb with it. "I'm not even... I was asking you to consider my team."

"Your team?"

"The volleyball team," Yui says. "I saw your serve and I thought... maybe I could convince you to play for us. You thought we were... oh no."

Kiyoko pulls back as if struck. "That's why you were spending time with me?" she asks. "You were just trying to get me to play for you in the Interhigh?" He fingers dig into the rug on her bedroom floor. "I thought you liked me. I'm such an idiot."

"I do!" Yui says, unable to stand the vulnerable note in Kiyoko's voice. "I mean, I don't... I didn't realize you felt like that, not about me, and I... but I do like you."

"I'm such an idiot," Kiyoko repeats, looking down. "I... I think you should go."

"Kiyoko," Yui says desperately. "We should..." What, talk about it? About how Kiyoko had thought they were dating and, wow, Yui hadn't even known Kiyoko liked girls, let alone her, and that was so weird, wasn't it?

"Please," Kiyoko says. She won't look up.

"I'm sorry," Yui says.

"It's not your fault," Kiyoko says and her face looks ghastly. Stiff and pale, eyes completely hidden. "You just misunderstood. But please, please go."

Yui goes.

The days that come after that are awful. Yui throws herself into volleyball, trying to ignore how lonely it is, going home by herself, not having anything to look forward to on days off. She hadn't even realized how much time she spent with Kiyoko until suddenly, that time has to be spent all alone.

Mao and Manami take her aside in the week before Interhigh.

"I know it's probably hypocritical for us to say this, but it's hard for the team's morale when you seem so depressed," Mao says. "Everyone is used to being able to rely on you for positivity, after all."

"I'm still working hard," Yui says. She has been. She's been practicing harder than ever. "We don't have that much time before the tournament."

"Is this about the manager from the boys team?" Manami asks. "You two were so close for a while there, but now she's never around anymore... did you have a falling out?"

Yui grips the bottom of her shirt. "I... we were really close, weren't we?" she says. She'd tried to take a more objective look back at their friendship, to see what Kiyoko had seen in it. They spent almost all their free time together. They cooked for each other. They held hands. They went out on weekends, seeing movies or going to cafes. Yui had even carried Kiyoko's bag several times, when it seemed heavy.

"It actually is about her?" Mao says, raising her eyebrows. "I thought for sure it was something to do with the team. That's usually all you can think about, no matter what else is going on."

"I'm such a jerk," Yui moans. "I didn't even notice how she was feeling the whole time. It should have been obvious."

Mao and Manami trade looks with a complete lack of subtlety. "What happened?" Manami asks. "Maybe you can fix it. You won't know until you try."

"I don't want to talk about it," Yui says. How could she fix accidentally leading Kiyoko on like that? "Let's just get back to practice."

Her friends trade another look, but don't argue.

After they lose at the Interhigh and Yui has comforted the underclassman, she takes her time before she goes to do the final game post-mortem with the coach. She finds a deserted spot in the hallway, a place where she's sure the team can't find her.

It's only then that she lets herself cry.

When they make it to the other gym, the boys are still playing. They're holding their own against Datekou, a powerhouse, a true testament to how far Sawamura has brought his team as the captain despite all odds.

Yui is expecting the familiar twist of envy to surge in her gut as she looks down at them, but it doesn't come. Part of that is how hollow she still feels, even with her face carefully dried of tears, but also her eyes keep being drawn away from Sawamura, away from his dependable second years and wild first years, and over to the dark figure sitting on the bench, clipboard in hand.

Kiyoko is completely focused on the match, twitching as the players move around the court. It's hard to make our her expression, but Yui can see the way she's curled over her notes like they're holding her steady and knows she must be watching intensely.

Mao notices where Yui is looking, of course, and raises her eyebrows. "Have you two kissed and made nice yet?" she asks.

Yui chokes and knows she's turning bright red.

"Woah," Mao says, clapping her on the back. "I was kidding, Yui. Unless, uh... You guys didn't fight because you wanted to kiss her, did you?"

"No!" Yui says. "And keep your voice down, will you?"

"What's going on?" Manami says.

"I'm actually not entirely sure," Mao says and her eyebrows might just merge with her hairline, if she isn't careful.

"Please hush," Yui says and realizes that will never work. Bargaining, then. "We'll talk after the game is done, okay?"

"Mhm," Manami says. "We better. You've been acting stranger than ever lately."

Yui shakes her head and goes back to watching Kiyoko. She twitches with every contact the players make with the ball, scribbling carefully after every point. It's clear how much she cares about her team, and Yui realizes she could never have stolen her away to play on the girls team. Kiyoko loves her team.

"Okay, mopey," Manami says after the game is over and they've shouted congratulations down to the boys. As they board the bus, she tugs Yui into the back where she and Mao can sit on either side of her. "Spill it."

Haltingly, Yui does so, explaining about how she hoped to recruit Kiyoko, about the misunderstanding, about how hurt Kiyoko had been when she realized that Yui didn't return her feelings.

"I didn't even know she felt that way about me," Yui says and shakes her head. "I mean, me!"

"Yeah, I had no idea Shimizu-san liked girls," Mao says. "I guess she keeps to herself so much, it makes sense people don't know things like that."

"It's not even that," Yui says. "Well, no, that was surprising, but... Kiyoko is just so..." She closes her eyes as she tries to think of how to explain how much more human and perfect Kiyoko is once someone gets to know her. How her teasing smiles sometimes are only in the crinkles of her eyes, how she always blows on her soup delicately before trying it and manages to burn her tongue anyway, how the warmth of her hands would stay on Yui's skin for hours.

"Give her some time," Manami suggests. "It must be awful, to realize someone you thought you were dating doesn't see you that way. But she'll move on, like someone else, and then you two will hopefully be friends."

"Not like we were, though," Yui says, shoulders drooping. Of course they wouldn't be that close again if the reason they had been was that Kiyoko had thought they were dating. Maybe they'd hang out, but there'd be no more holding hands, no more soft brushes in the kitchen, no more of that way Kiyoko would look at her, like Yui was something beautiful and amazing.

"Well, no," Manami says. "But that can't be helped."

"Unless you plan to actually date her," Mao puts in, expression neutral. "Of course, that would also lead to changes eventually. Like I said before, kissing and making up, if you know what I mean."

Yui suddenly imagines it, Kiyoko leaning in with her eyes fixed on Yui's mouth. Would her lips be as soft as they look? Would she tilt her head to the right or to the left? What would she taste like?

"Something to consider, anyway," Mao says.

Yui buries her face in her hands and wishes her friends weren't out to confuse her even more.

"Kiyoko-chan, can you get the tablecloths? They're in the back of my truck still."

"On it!" Kiyoko flicks her ponytail over her shoulder, ducking under the white tenting that's still being set up to head in the direction of a dark pick up truck, boxes piled in the back. She grabs ones labelled LINENS and hoists it up, balancing it on her hip for a moment so she can check the rest of the boxes, presumably so she doesn't miss any others to bring to the woman who had asked her to fetch the tablecloths.

Yui watches her, sheltered from sight behind the mess of tables and tents that are being constructed. The flower arrangement exhibition is slated to start in two hours and the park they've been given use of is a flurry of movement and shouting as the battle against the clock to set it up is waged.

Kiyoko had mentioned that she would be helping out and Yui is glad to have remembered. This gives her a chance to steel her nerve and, well, if she's being honest, to watch Kiyoko a little bit.

Her focus and movements are similar to how she was at the tournament match, focused and careful, though not with the same livewire intensity Yui had seen then. She's more relaxed here, not so invested, but clearly caring about doing her best. Yui realizes this is where Kiyoko really thrives, places where she can provide support behind the scenes, where she can get things done without having to deal with the spotlight focusing too much on her.

Still, if a spotlight were to be found, Yui is sure it would love to worship Kiyoko. Even like this, in just a plain white shirt and track pants, hair drawn up off her neck. She looks competent and beautiful like this and Yui isn't too proud to admit that her mouth goes dry watching her.

She's thought a lot about this, written mental pro and con lists for every possible choice she could make. She's never thought about another girl that way, never really given much thought to anyone that way, just sometimes noted small bubbles of attraction when they came and set them aside. She never had to make decisions about what to do about them. She came here still not sure what she was going to do.

But now, seeing Kiyoko pulling tablecloths out of boxes and shake them out, the sun lighting on the shine of her hair, Yui finds her doubts swirling way.

"Hey," she says, making her way over to where Kiyoko looks up, eye wides, still kneeling next to the box. "I'm Michimiya Yui, and I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend."

[Epilogue:

Yui barely manages to tamp down an objection when she realizes Kiyoko is leading them to the girls gym. She hasn't gone back there since she handed over the captaincy to Rinko, not liking the unpleasant feelings of regret and helplessness that still stir whenever she thinks too hard about her high school volleyball career.

"I thought we'd be going to the boys gym," she says. "Shouldn't you be with your team right now?"

"Hitoka-chan has them under control," Kiyoko says, curling her fingers more tightly around Yui's hand, picking up on the hesitation under her light tone. "This won't take long."

Yui sighs but doesn't argue. She wonders if they might pass for a bit, which she would enjoy. She misses playing, even though she knows it was the right choice to focus on her studies.

"Listen," Kiyoko tells her as they near the gym's window, putting a finger across her own lips.

Yui's eyes are drawn to where the side of Kiyoko's finger is indenting her lips, but she sighs and complies.

"One more!" The voice is Sasaki's, cutting through the sound of squeaking of tennis shoes. "I almost had it!"

"Watabe-senpai, send it here!"

"Nice hustle, Kikuchi! Keep it going!"

"Ahh, Sudou-senpai, can't we take a break?" Yui recognizes the worn out voice as one of the first year reserves. "I'm never going to get this right..."

"Not yet," Rinko's voice rings out clear. "You can't give up yet. Like Michimiya-senpai always said, it’s not over until you let it be. If we just keep trying like her..."

"We're sure to get better," Sasaki finishes.

"I've never heard them practicing so hard," Yui says, voice hushed. She doesn't want to break the moment, worried it might slip away. "How did Rinko manage that?" She swallows dizzily.

Kiyoko stares at her and shakes her head. "It's because you," she says. "It's because of what they saw from you, during Interhigh. It made them realize... what kind of players they wanted to become."

"That can't be right," Yui says.

"Just because you didn't lead them to victory when you were on the team doesn't mean you aren't a good captain," Kiyoko says. "You inspired them."

"By losing?"

"By never giving up," Kiyoko says. "By getting back to your feet. You've changed the team, Yui." Her smile is Yui's favorite, the smallest one that is just in the softness of her eyes. "You bring out the best in people."

"I have no idea what I'm doing," Yui says. "I just make mistakes and blunder on forward."

Kiyoko tugs her closer, close enough to kiss, a distraction and a comfort. "Maybe," she says. "But that's what makes you so incredible."

Kiyoko's mouth isn't soft when it meet Yui's and her kisses aren't gentle. She chews her lips to roughness and kisses with controlled intensity, just as heated as the fire she ignites in Yui's veins. Sometimes she bites too hard or aims wrong and it's nothing like Yui could have imagined.

She's absolutely perfect.]