21 | paper blossoms, wither

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The cherry blossoms weren't in bloom. It was the end of July, and soon would be the Spring National Tournament.

Truth be told, the cherry blossoms crown Nishinoya gave [First Name] were just pieces of paper with pink markers painted on it. The black-haired girl couldn't believe it at first, how could the libero have done such an act of service to her? It actually took her a few minutes to realize that they weren't real petals, he did a great job at doing so.

Nishinoya has been excited the whole while they've been walking towards the Shiroishi Riverbank. It wasn't far from the ice cream shop they'd visited, but it took a few steps down the street to get there. [First Name] strolled alongside Nishinoya, her hand clutching the paper cherry blossoms crown. She couldn't help but smile at his contagious joy. His exuberance was usually contagious, and it added to their time together.

As they reached the Shiroishi Riverbank, a gentle breeze rustled through the trees, adding a touch of serenity to the scene. The river flowed calmly, reflecting the soft afternoon sunlight. The absence of cherry blossoms didn't dampen their spirits. Nishinoya had a way of finding beauty in the simplest things, and today was no exception. The cold wind gushed through them; the black-haired girl's hair flew. She immediately tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, closing her eyes to feel the air surrounding them.

As Nishinoya's gaze turned towards the girl, he froze, captivated by her beauty in that moment. The gentle breeze played with her hair, causing it to dance around her face. The soft sunlight highlighted her features, and her closed eyes gave her an air of tranquility. He couldn't help but admire her, struck by the serene image she presented.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Nishinoya absorbed the sight before him. He felt his heart skip a beat, unsure of what to say or do. The girl's peaceful demeanor stirred something within him, a mix of awe and fascination. He had always admired her strength and determination on the volleyball court, but in this quiet moment by the riverbank, he saw a different side of her—a vulnerability that made his heart ache.

Nishinoya's mind raced, contemplating whether to break the silence or simply continue observing her. He wanted to capture this fleeting moment, etch it into his memory forever. The desire to reach out to her, to share the overwhelming beauty of the scene and the emotions it evoked, welled up inside him. Finally, gathering his courage, Nishinoya took a step closer to the girl. His voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness around them.

"Isn't it amazing?" he said, his eyes still fixed on her. [First Name] slowly opened her eyes, meeting Nishinoya's intense gaze. The connection between them was palpable, the unspoken words hanging in the air. There was a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability in his eyes, as if he had stumbled upon something precious and fragile.

"What is?" The girl asked.

"The way nature can make even the simplest moments feel so extraordinary." He smiled, "Short hair suits you."

The girl immediately blushed at the comment of the libero. God, she wasn't supposed to feel like this, but she can't help it. He was like a magnet to her, drawing her in with his infectious energy and unwavering passion. She was used to being the quiet observer, content to blend into the background. But Nishinoya had a way of making her feel seen, noticed, and appreciated. In that moment, time seemed to stand still. The rustling of the trees and the gentle flow of the river faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in their own private universe. A sense of anticipation and uncertainty filled the air, as if they were on the precipice of something extraordinary.

Finding a cozy spot by the riverside, they settled down on the grass, overlooking the tranquil water. Then, the girl finally got the courage to talk to him. "You're really taking this 'for old time's sake' seriously, huh?" She said with a smile.

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