“𝐇𝐎𝐖'𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆?” (F/n) asked Tsukishima, passing him the volleyball to him.
The two were in the backyard of Tsukishima’s house. It was around seven at night on a Saturday and they were bored out of their mind. They had homework to do, but they were going to wait till Sunday night to complete it and complain about not getting enough sleep the next day.
“Fine,” Tsukishima received the ball, sending it back in her direction.
“How is the team taking last week’s loss?” (F/n) asked, setting the ball.
“Well,” Tsukishima spiked it, “as best as they can?”
“You sound uncertain,” (F/n) received it, “how are you taking it?”
“Fine I guess,” Tsukishima set the ball but it went in a different direction.
(F/n) dove to the side and received it with her arm, “that says otherwise,”
Tsukishima bumped the ball up before spiking it again. (F/n) caught the ball this time.
“Is this about Akiteru?” (F/n) asked him bluntly.
“I hate how straightforward you are,” Tsukishima grumbled, sitting on the step of the back porch.
“Let me guess,” (F/n) sat beside him, “your philosophy about trying to hard and not getting anything out of it has now been proven and now you don’t know it you want to quit or stay because you lowkey find volleyball fun,”
“You’re creepy,” Tsukishima said, “but, you’re not wrong,”
