Volley Rivals2Lovers

First Official Match

I have been into sports for as long as I remember. basketball, softball , running , volleyball ofc , football and probably missed something because my memory is shit. Relatable isn't it?

Only recently have I been requested to join the volleyball team, coincidentally right after I finished Haikyuu!! an anime about volleyball. It's really.. inspiring. Life has been going downhill, especially since Covid, so this was really uplifting. Volley practices- which I easily excelled due to my athletic past at and was placed libro immediately for "fast reflexes" as my coach would say- have become my escape; my comfort place.

I'm not a soft person, unlike what my twitter friends like to tease me about. I'm not that affectionate- despite all my friends' teasing too... I don't think this was very important to the story but i just felt like clarifying. For them reading this.

My first official match would be in two days, and I have been switched from Libro to left wing opposite hitter; "it fits your height better" said the coach; I.. I am kind of the tallest on the team, so understandable.

Practice match after another, trying to ignore an annoying "Friend"'s calls, hitting the ball again and again and again, the redness of my palms, the burning; it's all exciting me more and more for my first official match.

"You're all probably going to lose. The team is very known and advanced, and this is your first match. But it's fine, as long as you learn things."
That's irritating.. The coach's probably right but it's still irritating to hear.

"Play a good game. Play is hard so they never underestimate you. You WILL win this the next time."

That's a good coach I tell myself sarcastically, but whatever. As we reach the court in our bus, and get down, we get a glimpse of our rivals; not for long though as we hurry inside and change to uniform. Nervous and excited atmosphere replacing the oxygen in the changing rooms. There is no crowd due to Covid, but whatever. More for us and the other team.

The coach hypes us up; unfortunately as bad as ever, but it doesn't matter. We have been waiting for this. We practiced for this. We. Are. Ready.

The sound of a whistle breaks the tense atmosphere as we all look at each other and yell in excitement, going on to the court, my eyes take a few seconds adjusting to the lights of the court, the other team has just entered too. We go to our places; my eyes catches another player in the opposing team's eye, unable to keep my eyes straight on hers, I unconsciously look at her up, down and up again.

Of course she's gonna chuckle at my dumbfounded expression. Who.. who allowed girls to be so pretty in uniform.. Number 13. She changes her eyes' focus and yells to her team "LETS. DO. THIIIIS." Her team yells in agreement. Oh, Oh I definitely like her. My teeth show as a smile overtakes my face.

A whistle blows hard, let's begin.

Our team is the first to serve, her name's Sara, and her practices don't fail her as she hits their court right before the line. The other team still has the strong atmosphere, and we gain some too. This is fun.

"Focus! We'll get the next one!" #13 says. Oh? The captain?

We serve again, too confidently. "OUT" screams their #11 right before the ball goes out of court. Their turn to serve. They hit it hard and fast; but not enough. I hit it and pass it to #7, the setter a little too high. There's one thing to do to secure the point. #10 jumps as to take the toss, but #7 does a dumb the fails; the blockers predicted it and it hits our side.

Play after play, we lose the first set 21 - 25. We can do better. At the end of the first set, I pass by #13 she looks at me cockily. A little too cocky.

"Don't get too cocky now, pretty girl."

She doesn't even try to contain her laugh in "Win something to prove yourself, pretty boy" Her voice unwaveringly gentle and cute. The whistle blows indicating the beginning of the second set.

Our captain finally speaks "No space for messing around now. They can go home with their one set. WE WAITED FOR THIS FOR A LONG TIME. LET'S WIN THIS." It's our team's turn to scream "LETS GO!"

They start the serve, we block it to their surprise and it hits their court, we get 3 points before they start hitting points, closing the gap between us a couple times but we end up winning 25 - 22. We huddle up together, "WE'LL WIN THE NEXT ONE TOO" "YEAH!"

As we wipe our sweat and hydrate, I look at their #13; whose gaze has been lasering holes through my head. She looks a bit serious, upset if you ask me. I set aside the bottle, Smile and wink teasingly; She huffs and turns around. I laugh to myself as my team looks at me questionably.

Their questions are soon overvoiced with the other team's chants; They seem mad and ready to win. All the more fun. The third whistle blows, I'm sure both teams are thinking this but only one will succeed. "Time to win this."

We serve, they catch it and throw it to their setter, they score a point. We do a quick back, we stay point on point until reaching 19 points. They hit 22 as we finally hit 20.

We lose 23 - 25. Their team cheers, irritation seeping through our team, disappointment. The coach expected we lose, but not to score so much. I hope we get a new coach by the next time we have a match.

It was a good match nonetheless. I look back to see where's #13 but the coach immediately drags us to our second game, the last team was in the benches watching, and of course I felt the need to brag a bit; embarrassingly losing again. I search for her again but apparently they need to change uniform for their next match; which once began our bus arrived and we needed to leave.

I still don't know her name, I know she's #13. I will root for her even though I won't be able to see if she wins or not; and hopefully I can see her again.. hopefully.

Once home, I throw myself in my bed, I can't stop thinking about her.

Again, Who allowed girls to be so pretty in uniform. I thought uniform was supposed to be ugly.

I go on twitter to talk to my friends about everything that happened, My friends Chrys and Ash of course wanted to make this into a fanfiction; calling it a fanfiction because funnily enough they like to platonically "simp" for me. They call it "Nictwt".

Ash ends up actually making me fiction, it's short and simple; but he's like that; he likes sentimentality like the masochist he is (/hj), He's probably hoping we don't make copypastas of this fiction. But what kind of a friend would I be? (guys please)

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Hi guys, I can't make the stupid ass small "eyes glossy, she blushes hand on head" fictions for this one. This is how it is uwu guess you can't make is a /c uwuuwuwuwuwuwuwuwu