ivory and orange hues

I

It is really fucking hot today, Hinata thinks to himself.

Morning meditation is a vital part of Shoyo Hinata's daily routine. In fact, he absolutely refuses to miss it. Everyday at 7 AM sharp, he bikes to the beach to bask in the sun's rays. Sitting criss-crossed with his toes wiggling in the warm ivory sand, Hinata plans his upcoming day— what drills he should practice later, what food he should eat for dinner, what route he should take to work to avoid traffic.

After his hour of reflection, he goes on a brisk jog along the waterfront to warm-up his muscles. The wet sand tickles the bottom of his feet as he takes long strides, and by the end of his run, the hems of his shorts are lightly dampened from the splashing water.

He then joins his teammate, Heitor and other local players, and they practice beach volleyball for two and a half hours. Diving for every shanked ball, hitting every set that he could get to, and serving to every zone— Hinata does his best to ensure that he maximizes each practice by working on his trouble areas or testing new methods of attacking.

After taking an hour break to freshen up and eat a hearty lunch, Hinata bikes to work. Heavy beads of sweat trickle down his face as he flies through the streets of Rio de Janeiro. Typically, he prefers to take side streets or back alleyways to avoid cramped junctions; he simply cannot be late. Not because he would immediately be fired if he were— in fact, he was late once after foolishly making a wrong turn and biking aimlessly for thirty minutes— but rather, he firmly believes that punctuality is a good practice in building responsibility.

While making his delivery rounds, he beholds the various sights that Brazil has to offer. From crowded streets bustling with people to plazas lined with various food vendors emitting savory aromas, there is always something for Hinata to marvel at.

Post dropping off around a hundred pizzas to hungry customers, he tiredly rides home. His aching calves pedal him through the streets that he passed earlier, still hectic as a result of Rio's infamous nightlife. Most days he cooks himself a protein-heavy dinner, accompanied by some rice or beans and vegetables to balance out his meal. On rare occasions, however, he eats a free pizza that he got from work, a special treat to himself.

At approximately 8 PM (and sometimes even 9 PM, depending on whether or not he took an extra shift at the pizza shop), Hinata cracks open his textbook and studies Portuguese for an hour. Sitting underneath the soft yellow light emitting from his desk lamp, his fingers run through the cream pages as his brain absorbs the material written on them. After residing in Brazil for about a year and a half, he was able to pick up the language, mostly colloquial terms and conversational speaking, but he wants to become more proficient in it. He firmly believes that it's just as important to train your body just as it is your mind, and what better way to do so than by learning another language.

Once he finishes practicing reading, writing, and speaking Brazilian Portuguese, Hinata gets ready for bed. He tucks into his cotton sheets by 10, making sure to leave his window slightly cracked open to allow the cool air to flow in. It tends to get hot in his room at night. He wakes up the next morning at 6 AM to repeat this cycle, and soon, his days start to blend together.

They say that a journey of a thousand miles must begin with one step— which is why every morning, Shoyo Hinata sits criss-crossed on one of Rio's grandest beaches, closes his eyes, and contemplates his life. During his morning meditations, he ponders the same things: the same volleyball drills, the same dinnertime foods, and the same routes to work.

On this particular morning, the sun was furiously beating down on the South American coast.

It's barely past 7 AM and I'm already sweating buckets, Hinata sighs to himself. Today's practice will be brutal. We'll definitely have to take more water breaks to make sure that no one overheats.