Masks Of Yellow

Chapter 3 - Volleyball

As you can see, the home situation with my parents is terrible. What's even worse is that I find no comfort in anyone that I hang around during school. Nobody on the volleyball team understands it, not even Daichi.

It's ironic. Volleyball is my escape. It may sound stupid to you, but to me?

Volleyball is the only place where I feel like my parents can be proud of me. That is why I love school so much. I admit, I am not one of the best students, but I am at least better than many of the kids that attend Karasuno High School. I use school and volleyball as an escape.

I think the whole reason I try so hard in volleyball is to impress my parents. Not myself, not my team, not the opponent, but my parents. When they bother to show up, that is.

Rarely do I ever see them at any of the games.

When I do, my father always criticizes me after each and every single game.

"You know, you could be more aggressive when going for receives."

"Your platform was shaky today."

"Is that Kageyama kid your replacement?"

"Why didn't you play at all today?"

"You'll never be as good as Kageyama, you know that right?"

God, I know. You don't gotta rub it in.

That used to get to me a lot. I used to feel worthless. The long, agonizing car rides back home are the only things I take away from the volleyball games at this point. I almost throw myself out of the car onto the street every single time.

Your child.

YOUR child,

should not be compared,

to SOMEBODY ELSE'S child.

Wow okay, since you like Kageyama so much, why don't you just disown me and adopt him instead? I'm sure everyone in the house would appreciate him more than me.

"I'll do better next time." I sigh and stare out my window, afraid to meet his eyes.

"You say that every single game. When is the change going to be made?" His voice progressively raises. "I spend so much money providing you with food, shelter, and now this? For what? You don't even try out there. You are wasting my money by the minute."

I do try, you just can't notice it. You're too busy focusing on Tobio.

"Do you know why you don't start, Koushi?"

I inhale sharply, but silently.

"It's because you're not good."

Do you know how long I've been working on this? I have spent every single day of my life devoting myself to school and volleyball. I do not understand how you cannot see that I am trying my best. Open your fucking eyes. I did fine when Tobio needed a break. Actually, it was one of my best games. I need you to kindly shut the fuck up before you say shit that doesn't make any sense.

I love volleyball. I really do.

But when he is around?

It feels like a chore.

Volleyball to me isn't so much about the game.

The way the ball feels on my hands, the way the shoes squeak on the floor, the slap of hands, the bending of knees, the competition to see who has more bruises on their arms, the layer of felt on the ball, and that ultimate feeling of relief when you look over at the scoreboard and see that you're up by 6 points.

The way the team comforts each other when you lose, the celebrations when we win, the way we have each other's back on and off the court, the bond that nobody can take away from us.

That's volleyball to me.

Volleyball to my father, however, is a way for him to look good.

"Oh, you're on the volleyball team? You must be pretty popular, huh?!"

"Aren't you guys going to nationals? That's so cool!"

"Your parents must be proud of you, Sugawara."

No, actually, they're not.

I smile through it all, even if it hurts a lot. Even if I cannot stand lying to the many family friends who have seen the inside of my house, I still smile. If I don't, people will think something is wrong.

If I show people that something is wrong, they begin to question me. They begin to question if everything at home is alright.

It isn't.

"No, everything at home is fine, Daichi." I say. We were walking home from practice. It was beginning to grow dark, but I was sleeping over Daichi's house, so everything was okay.

"Dude, are you sure? You never talk about them." His face is filled with concern.

Fuck. Don't look at me like that.

"I'm serious. I just never really got the chance to ever talk to people about my family 'cause nobody asks." I send my signature, reassuring smile towards Daichi. He doesn't buy it.

"Okay, well, I'm asking you right now. What is really going on at home?"

Lie. Lie. Lie.

Lie and deny. Deny it until he believes it.

"Nothing much, really. My dad has been working a lot lately, so it's been hard on my mom. We are getting through it though." I keep walking, pushing my fingernails into my palm like I usually do. I just say it's from my dog when people ask.

"Okay." He turns his head and faces straight ahead.

Fuck; he knows.

He knows I'm lying.

I stared back down at my feet, still clenching one hand. My other is grasped around my duffel bag, slung around my back. I shake the hair out of my eyes and stare intensely ahead, afraid to say anything. I might just crack and tell him everything.

I cannot let that happen.

The silence is unbearable. I want to tell him everything. I want to show him that I am not as okay as people think. I want him to know. He doesn't even have to try to help. It would just be so much easier if someone else knew.

If someone else knew, it would make all of this so much easier on me. It would make my life so much better to know that I can just let it all out to someone who I know for a fact won't judge me for anything I say.

I wish I could tell someone. I wish that I could break down in front of someone to let them know that I need help. I really wish I didn't need help, but lately I really feel like I do. I don't want to put all my problems on someone, but every day the pain in my head and chest suffocates me just a little more. I'm afraid I might explode.

"You know, you can tell me everything. Or you can tell me nothing. I'm not going to push it, though," He sighs, "I wish you would tell me, but I can't change that. I'll be waiting for when you decide it's time."

I try not to gasp. The weight of the world just lifted off my shoulders as in someone who was sitting on them just, disappeared. My chest feels so light and my head doesn't hurt anymore. I nod my head, indicating to him that I heard. Neither of us say anything after that, and I am okay with that. 

If I spoke, I would crack and spill like a broken piggy bank.

God, I am so in love with you.