Water Boy | Haikyuu x Male OC |

Friends

"Ugh... what the hell..."  Kou groggily muttered. He had barely come to ten minutes after the incident, when Nishinoya had already taken them to their destination.

He looked around side to side, clueless and trying to recognize the swishing blurs of dark blue and green in his vision that were his surroundings. It was impossible for him to be able to determine where exactly they were, so he outright asked him.

"Where are we?" Kou questioned faintly.

Nishinoya chuckled. "Guess."

Kou wasn't in the mood for any games. He grumpily moaned for him to stop. Noya took it as the threat it was and backed down instantly

"Alright, alright, calm down. I'll tell you. But you have to let me lead you first. Close your eyes and no peeking."

"Fine..."

He closed his eyes and accepted the boy's antics as Noya grabbed him by the hand and brought him over to an area that sounded close to a pool of trickling water. They seemed to be at a park of some sort, since the area was barely lit and dead quiet. He only deduced that assumption from those two traits, though. But he was lucky enough to be right. Noya took him to a local park a few blocks away from their houses.

Kou's had an obvious idea where they could be when the sound of natural running water hit his ears like a melody.

It was a stream.

"Okay... now, open!"

Kou slowly raised his eyelids, his vision suddenly becoming a lot clearer when he registered the indescribably stirring scene before him.

Noya noticed his perplexed silence, feeling proud of himself, he asked. "So, what do you think?"

"It's nice..." Minami answered.

The fact that he admitted anything to be remotely positive was an improvement on its own.

Nishinoya gladly took the ration–like scrap of admiration and cherished it.

He knew deep down that Kou was grateful on the inside. For the view, of course. Nothing else.

The hotheaded boy didn't know he'd take a liking to rivers so much until now.

The air near bodies of water are a lot more clean and crisp.

A breath of wind, in terms of force, closer to a whisper in distinct detail, blew gently against his face. The gentle gust brushed his air up in the air swiftly, making his dark brown–almost black locks appear as if they were defying gravity, lifting strand by strand in the air, and became one with the wind.

He could feel the breeze swish against his ears.

If I could be swept away by the wind,

I'd want to go as far away as possible.

Far away from Mom.

Far away from Dad.

Far away from Ichinose.