A Foreign Life (Tsukishima x y/n)

CHAPTER NINE

                                                             (Yn's POV)

 While the boys started their warmups with the volleyballs I pulled out my schoolwork, needing to work on my Japanese class. I had the language mostly down, but all of the comprehensive and reading stuff was killing me.

After about a half hour I gave up, putting it away and focusing on the boys before me. I went over and stood next to Kiyoko, who greeted me with a smile. I simply watched the boys until they took a break, which was maybe a half hour later. They really ran themselves hard.

Daichi grabbed his water bottle and walked over to us, stopping in front of me. "Hey y/n. Sorry if you thought I was implying earlier that you couldn't keep up with us. It's just I've seen the girls teams practice here and they don't really do as much as us. I assumed it's the same back in America."

I smiled. "It's alright. I don't know for sure, but America may be similar. It's just I've played on basketball teams for a few years now and they run us hard. If we aren't to the point of throwing up or passing out by the end of practice, then we didn't work hard enough. Some girls do throw up." He took a drink, widening his eyes at the last comment.

"Dang, you guys can be intense."

"Oh yeah, they love to work us to the bone. They have this strange addiction with this one workout, uh, I don't actually know the name in Japanese."

"Oh, don't worry about it, we have a fluent English speaker among us. We can just ask him."

"We do?"

Daichi turned to the side, beckoning Tsukishima over. Ugh, of course it was him.

"What is it?" He asked, face neutral.

"Ah, y/n just was going to tell me something but doesn't know the word in our language." I blushed, embarrassed. "I thought you could help out."

Tsukishima turned his intimidating gaze to me, staring me down. "What is it?" He said again.

"Oh, uh," I stammered. Then I said in English. "Suicide sprints."

He tilted his head at me, a bit confused. "Uh, ok." He turned to Daichi. He said it in Japanese, and I got it now.

"What's that?" Daichi asked me.

"Oh, they're torture. It's where you line up on one edge of the gym and sprint a third of the way across the gym, touch the line, go back, sprint halfway to the halfcourt line, touch the line, go back, sprint to halfcourt, touch the line, and go back..." He seemed confused. "Do you want me to show you?" I asked.

Daichi nodded. "Ok." I went to the end of the gym, going on the side of the court so I wouldn't have to run under the net when I got there. I leaned down, body coiling up and getting ready to sprint, and then shooting off, running a small distance, using my momentum to turn my body around fast and touch the line but losing it in the process before sprinting back to the end of the court. I turned and went again, going halfway to the halfcourt line. I sprinted back, touching the line again and this time going nearly all the way to the half court line. I went again, this time to the halfcourt line. 

This drill was all about speed. I coiled up and went again, again, and once more before sprinting all the way across the gym and stopping. "Those are suicide sprints." I tested the foregin words out. I was breathing hard again, and I laced my fingers together on top of my head, raising my arms up.

I noticed that all of the boys in the gym were staring at me, again. Were they not used to girls exercising with them or something? Probably not.

Daichi's face lit up. "Those look hard! Let's try them!" All the boys groaned. I winced. Oops. I hadn't met to give him the idea.

"Oh, and sometimes when you do them you line up in two lines and run them like relay races. The first line to get all the way through with the sprints wins," I said.

"Alright!" Daichi grinned wickedly. "Do you mind running again? I want to watch and make sure to know who wins."

"Uh, sure."

"Thanks!" He lined us all up. I was up first against Tsukishima.

We glared at each other. "Make sure to touch the lines," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "Or else it doesn't count."

"You won't have to worry about me," He said, getting down into a runner's position, tall frame coiling up athletically. I didn't think this could possibly be a fair match, because I had just gone and his legs were a mile long. But that didn't mean I couldn't win.

Daichi clapped his hands. "Go!" We shot off.