Chapter Text
“Hey – Noya, sorry to push this one on you,” Ennoshita said.
Noya looked up at his supervisor and shrugged, and then turned his attention back to his camera. He was fiddling uselessly with the dials, really just trying to distract himself more than anything else.
“Look – if you really, really don't want to, I can get somebody else to –”
“No,” Noya sighed. “Nah, I can do it. Don't bug the other departments about this. I'll do it.”
“I just…” Ennoshita said. “I know you don't like volleyball.”
It sounded so stupid when he put it like that.
Noya shook his head and set the camera down. “Really. It's fine. It's no big deal,” he said. “It just one game, right?”
“Narita will be back to work by the next one, yes,” Ennoshita replied.
“All right. I'll take it.”
Ennoshita smiled. “Thanks, Noya,” he said. “The game starts at six. Better get there early, watch the teams warming up and everything. You know. Anyway – if you see Suga there, tell him I said hey.”
“Yep,” Noya answered as Ennoshita turned to leave the room. Once he was gone, Noya slouched down in his chair and groaned.
He should have known this would happen.
He spun his chair around in a circle, glowering at the walls, and then sat up, pulled out his phone, and started tapping out a text.
> Ryu, bud – got a game to go to tonight. @ the college, 6pm. Volleyball. Tell Saeko not to wait up with dinner, I'll get some on the way home.
He didn't have to wait long for a reply.
>> Volleyball?? wow. Ok. Any way you can steal an extra press badge for me?
> …You want to go?
>> Yeah! I miss volleyball, man.
> Ok. I'll get you Narita's.
>> Nice. I'll meet you there.
> K.
Noya put his phone back in his pocket and looked up at the clock. He had half an hour to kill before he had to start walking to the college.
He sighed again, blowing his bangs up out of his eyes.
Whatever. Just one game. Snap some photos, get a couple of quotes from the players, come back to the office, hand it off to Ennoshita, see it one more time in the morning paper, end of story.
He could deal.
- - -
Noya arrived at the college half an hour before the game was due to start. Already, people were filing in.
He found Ryu standing in the courtyard, about halfway across the campus. He waved as Noya approached, and smiled.
“Volleyball game, huh?” Ryu asked, catching the press badge Noya tossed to him. “Haven't been to one of those in a while.”
“Yeah, well.” Noya said, leading the way towards the gym. “It's pretty boring, so I usually make Narita take them. But he's sick right now, so.”
“Boring, huh,” Ryu laughed. “Okay.”
Noya changed the subject quickly. “You got here early,” he observed.
“Saeko drives like a maniac. You know.”
“Let's get in and sit down. My feet are bugging me.”
They pushed their way through the crowd in front of the gym doors, showing press badges to the people taking money, who nodded and let them through.
“Nice – sideline seats,” Ryu muttered once they found their seats in the press section, picking up a program and flipping through it. “Steal badges for me more often.”
Noya sank down onto a chair and grimaced a little as he straightened out his legs. Once he was settled, he turned his attention to the players, dressed in blue and black, darting around the side of the court closest to them.
The team looked pretty good this year. There were some freshmen on the team, too, which was a little surprising. There was a tiny kid with bright orange hair who had the highest jump Noya had ever seen. A tall, black-haired kid stuck close beside him; they cooperated like clockwork.
“Numbers nine and ten,” Noya said. “Did you see that spike?”
“Yeah. Shit, that's ridiculous. How the hell do they do that?”
The rest of the team seemed to be mostly made up of sophomores. They were all well-built, and synchronized well. Noya wasn't really looking at the players, though. Really, he was looking anywhere but at the players.
This hadn't been a good idea.
“…Nishinoya?” called a familiar voice. “You're here?”
Noya looked around and found a gray-haired young man sliding into the seat on his right.
“Suga,” he said. “Uh. Yeah, yeah, I'm taking over for Narita.”
“I thought you didn't like volleyball,” Suga said.
“I don't,” Noya replied. “Really. Nobody else could do this today.”
Suga smiled at him. “I'm glad you made it out,” he said. “It's good to see you.”
“You too. Hey, this is my friend Ryu. I don't know if you've met him.”
Ryu leaned around Noya to shake hands with Suga. Noya introduced them, and almost immediately they struck up a conversation about the team and its prospects. Noya regretted sitting in the middle. Suga knew a lot about the subject, seeing as he was dating the team captain and was himself the captain of the school's volleyball club. Ryu had an endless amount of excitement about it as well. Noya could see they were going to get along great.
The captain – Daichi – broke away from the group just before the game was due to start and jogged over to where they sat. He leaned over to kiss Suga on the forehead, and then looked over at Noya and Ryu.
“Noya,” he said, surprised. “Nice to see you.”
“You too,” Noya replied tiredly. “Good luck today. I'll grab one of your players for a comment after the game, if that's cool.”
“I actually have to run, like, right after the game,” he said. “But if you want you can talk to the vice captain. He's number two, over there. His name's Maeda.”
“Thanks, yeah,” Noya said as the whistle blew.
“Get out there,” Suga smiled, kissing Daichi's cheek quickly before pushing him towards the court.
The players lined up. Not surprisingly, Daichi was a starter, along with nine and ten. Along with them, numbers five, six, and three stepped onto the court.
Three caught his eye. Noya didn't really mean to stare, but he did anyway.
He was tall, and looked strong. He had long brown hair, which he kept tied back in a loose bun, and a short, stubbly beard.
Noya looked away from him quickly and looked over the rest of the team's members. Jesus Christ, Noya, he grumbled at himself.
Noya stood up and turned his camera on as the two teams turned to face the press section. He snapped a quick picture – trying his hardest not to put number three in the center – and then sat back down.
The game began about a minute later. Noya watched the game – or, rather, he watched number three. He tried not to make this obvious, but he sometimes missed critical plays this way – plays that Suga and Ryu, on either side of him, got really, really excited about, and tried to talk to Noya about, and demanded to know if he'd gotten a picture. And he had to say no. Eventually, he tore his eyes away from three and took a couple of actually relevant pictures, if only so they'd stop bothering him.
He couldn't help but watch the way three moved. He had a lot of control over himself, and a lot of power; not a motion was wasted. He put so much energy into spiking the ball that Noya was pretty sure it would pop every time it hit the floor.
No, dammit. You're supposed to take pictures of the game, not him.
At half-time, the players switched sides and Noya couldn't see three as easily. Which was a good thing, actually. Three matched almost all of Noya's criteria for Really Fucking Attractive, so it was best that he stay a little bit farther away. Even as it was, most of the fifty or so pictures he'd already taken were of three.
Noya leaned back in his seat and put his hands behind his head. Suga had gotten up to talk to Daichi, so Noya and Ryu were alone.
“So, Ryu,” he murmured. “What can you tell me about number three over there?”
Ryu snorted. “Is that what you've been staring at all this time?” he demanded.
“Shut up. You understand.”
“I do understand, you completely useless bisexual. But sweet Jesus, focus on your job.”
“You have a program. Tell me about him.”
Ryu sighed and shook his head, resigned, as he opened his program to the lineup. He squinted at it for a second, and then found the name.
“He's… Asahi Azumane, junior, twenty-one years old – six foot fucking four, damn, Yuu, you can pick 'em.”
“He's twenty-one?” Noya demanded, looking Azumane over once more. “He looks about six years older than that, at least.”
“I'll agree with that,” Ryu replied. “You're – what are you, five five?”
“Five six,” Noya snapped.
“So he's almost a foot taller than you. You'd come up to about his shoulder. How the hell would that even work.”
“Ssh, don't try to make sense with me,” Noya said, taking out his camera again and snapping a picture that was – mostly – of the rest of the team, through the net.
Ryu shook his head slowly. “You are truly out of control,” he said.
“I'm aware. Also I'm getting that guy's number tonight.”
“Knock yourself out.”
- - -
Azumane's team won. Of course they did.
It was an early game in the season, so the celebration in the crowd was short-lived, and people started filing out quickly. This made it far easier for Noya to squeeze through to the court. He made it to the players before they had a chance to leave.
Azumane was standing near the back corner, talking to the orange-haired kid, who was enthusiastically bouncing around and screeching unintelligibly.
Noya made his way past the other players without so much as a glance, focused on him completely.
“Hey – Noya,” Daichi called, taking hold of his arm and pulling him to a stop.
Quite irritated, Noya looked over at him. Number two – Maeda – stood behind him.
“Oh,” Noya said. “There you are.”
“Blew right past us,” Daichi laughed. “Anyway – Maeda, this is Nishinoya. He works for the paper. I guess he wants to ask you a few questions about the team, or…?”
“Yeah,” Noya said. “Yeah – it won't take long.”
He asked all the standard questions and got all the standard answers: the team was doing great, they practiced at least three times a week, the new players were all strong and had a lot of potential, etc., etc. Noya had probably done a hundred college games in the last couple of years. He knew the drill. He could probably even write a column about this game without even talking to Maeda.
“And – your number three, Azumane,” Noya said, pulling the conversation in a direction he found more interesting, nodding over at him. “He scored a lot tonight.”
“He did. He did a really good job,” Maeda replied. “I think he probably scored half our points.”
“Twenty out of fifty-two,” Noya said. “Solid.”
“Twenty? Shit.”
“Yep. Hey, you mind if I go talk to him?”
“Go right ahead. Um. I'll come with you, and introduce you.”
Noya raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Yeah, okay.”
He followed Maeda over. Azumane turned around as they approached. He glanced at Noya only briefly before looking to Maeda.
“Asahi, this is – uh –”
“Nishinoya,” Noya said, sticking out a hand for him to shake. “I work with the paper.”
“Oh,” Azumane said, and his voice was way, way softer than Noya had thought possible. He took Noya's hand and shook it a few times. His hand was sweaty. “Good to meet you.”
The orange-haired kid poked his head out from behind Azumane.
“Oh – and that's Hinata,” Maeda said, gesturing to him. “One of our freshmen. Great player.”
Noya shook hands with Hinata as well. Hinata pumped his arm energetically and then bounded away, after the black-haired number nine, as he entered the locker room.
“Anyway,” Noya smiled, turning back to Azumane. “I was wondering if you had anything to say about the game tonight?”
“Oh, uh,” Azumane said, looking at the floor. “I. Uh. I think we did really well.”
“Well, yeah. But you scored almost half your team's points. That's ridiculous.”
“Did I?” he mumbled.
“Yeah! That's incredible. You're a great player.”
Azumane smiled. “Thank you,” he said. It was hard to tell, because he was still pink in the face from playing, but Noya could have sworn he blushed a little.
Noya couldn't believe this. He was shy, too.
They stood there in silence for a moment. Maeda had walked away at some point, leaving them alone. Noya thought quickly for something to keep the conversation going. After a second or two, he found it.
“Oh, hey, you know,” he interjected, just as Asahi was looking like he was about to say he had to go.
“Hm?”
“The paper – we do these local player features sometimes, you know? We do an interview, write a column about the player, and it goes in the sports section. You've probably seen those?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “Yeah – Daichi got one of those a year ago.”
“Yeah! So – hey, you haven't gotten one yet, have you?”
“No.”
“Would you want to do an interview?”
Azumane's eyebrows jumped up his forehead. “You… want me to do one?” he asked. “Really?”
“Yes, definitely,” Noya grinned. “You're a really strong player, and you've been with the team a while. I'd like to meet up with you and talk about – well, volleyball. 'N shit. You know.”
Azumane laughed a little. “Yeah,” he said. “Well – yeah! Yeah, I could do that. Um… Should we come up with a time now, or…?”
“I'll give you my number and you can call me with a time that works?” Noya asked.
“Sure,” Azumane smiled. “Yeah. Thank you!”
Noya reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to him. Azumane looked at it – he bit his lip while he did so – and then nodded, smiling at Noya again.
“All right,” he said. “Thanks again.”
“See you soon,” Noya said brightly.
The two of them parted, and Noya hurried back over to the sidelines, where Ryu was waiting with a knowing expression on his face.
Noya's face broke into a full grin as he reached his best friend.
“How'd it go?” Ryu asked.
“I've got him signed up for an interview,” Noya replied.
“Is that what they're calling it now?”
“No, literally, an interview. I'm gonna talk to him and then write an article about how great he is.”
“Taking it slow on this one, huh?”
“Only because I have to,” Noya said. “Like – god, he's attractive. I'd like to get with that immediately, thank you very much.”
“Keep it in your damn pants, we're in public,” Ryu groaned.
“I'll do my best,” Noya said.
They left the gym, stepping out into the warm August air. They made their way out to the parking lot, where Saeko was already waiting, the car idling.
“SHOTGUN,” Ryu bellowed as soon as the car was in sight.
“How old are you?” Noya demanded, but didn't put up a fight.
He climbed into the backseat. Saeko put the car in gear and turned out of the parking lot.
“How'd the game go?” she asked them.
“Well, we won,” Ryu said, getting straight to the point. “And Yuu found the next guy he's gonna bang.”
“Oh my god,” Noya said.
“I'm not wrong.”
“True.”
Saeko laughed. “Just wait until me and Ryu aren't at home, okay, bud?” she said. “So – the game went pretty well for you, huh?”
“I think I like volleyball again,” he replied.
“But – seriously, Yuu, are there any pictures on your camera right now that aren't of Azumane?” Ryu asked.
“Uh. Probably. Maybe.”
“Maybe.”
“I got at least one group shot. We don't need much more than that.”
Saeko shook her head. “Have fun explaining that to your boss,” she said.
“You know what, I think he'll understand. Even a straight guy can appreciate this one.”
She laughed a little more. “I'm glad you had a good time, Yuu,” she said. “You really seemed bored during the last couple of weeks. See, what are you talking about – you don't hate volleyball.”
“Yeah,” Noya said. “Yeah, it's not so bad.”