ONLY ME || Haikyuu x Male

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Ren generally respected the Karasuno coaches, but in the brief break they had between the second and third set, he didn't tune in to what they were saying at all. While Coach Ukai rambled on with some sort of inspirational speech or another, he had his gaze fixated on the Seijou huddle, the gears turning at a breakneck pace in his head. There were dozens of different cogs falling into place, and he was overviewing all of them.

What strategy should they utilize going into this set? How much would his team be able to handle with their stamina drained and their energy sapped? And how much would he have to put into this to make sure that he was able to remain lucid?

Mind spinning, Ren didn't even register the whistle that indicated the match was about to start until Noya physically pushed him onto court. There was simply no time to brew up some sort of elaborate scheme to take down Seijou. With a deep exhale, he clenched and unclenched his fingers around his jersey shorts, trying to relax both his body and soul. If he thought too much, he wouldn't be able to last long. And right now, his team needed him more than ever.

The whistle blew again, and the ball went up. Asahi served, but it was quickly countered by Seijou's ace, turning the control over to Oikawa. Fortunately, it seemed as though the length of the game was getting to the setter as well, and Asahi managed to receive the ball, albeit with some difficulty. Though it did go long, hurtling over the net, at least he managed to contact it, indicating some sort of wear on Oikawa's strength.

Ren rushed over to block the direct hit that Mad Dog was going in for, but as he leaped, he felt a twinge in his thighs, and he didn't jump nearly as high as he usually did. The ball ended up sailing over his block, slamming onto the Karasuno side of the court. He landed with a frown, eyes narrowing as he glared down at his legs.

I should have been able to block that. Looks like I'm more worn down than I thought.

He shook his head. At times like this, it was best not to think about his own weaknesses. Better to focus on what he could do, instead of reminding himself of what was holding him back.

His therapist had taught him that.

The match trudged on, each play more tiring than the last. Everyone was fighting tooth and nail for every point earned, with him and Mad Dog butting heads more and more often. It wasn't intentional, at least, not on Ren's part, but it certainly was effective in damaging the opposing player's resolve. The psycho began slipping up, hitting the ball into the net, out of bounds, and straight into the arms of waiting blockers. If he wasn't so exhausted, Ren would straight up laugh in Mad Dog's face, and he sure was tempted to do so when the guy was subbed out for the mild-mannered player on the Seijou team. Kunimi, if he remembered correctly. He watched the scowling boy march off court in a huff, amusement overtaking his high levels of exhaustion.

I guess the winner between the two of us is clear.

As he moved back towards his position on court, Ren was stopped by Tobio clearing his throat to catch his attention. He turned around and the first-year gave him a stiff nod of acknowledgement. "It looks like you really succeeded as a buffer against Mad Dog, Re - Hasegawa."

It took a moment for the name to register, but as soon as it did, Ren thought he felt his heart sink into his stomach as though it weighed a thousand kilograms. Tobio was calling him by his surname, really? He'd assumed that they were close enough to at least remain civil while he was contemplating how to respond to the confession, but that jab felt like a simple act of pettiness. Of revenge. The setter didn't have to call him by that name, didn't have to provide that comment at all, but he chose to do so in such a harmful manner. It almost seemed like Tobio was trying to upset him. To rile him up. To perhaps even forcefully drag a psychotic episode out of him.

And that hurt.

It hurt more than anything he'd experienced in so long because it felt like he was getting betrayed. Ren understood that of course, given his hesitation to provide a definite answer to Tobio's confession, that there would be some iciness between them. But for the setter to purposefully try and cripple his mental state? It only reminded him of the torturous time he spent with his father when he was younger. And he never thought anyone on the team would ever cause him to recall the memories of his childhood.

But he wasn't given the opportunity to mull it over as the game pressed onwards. Ren fought back the pinpricks that were threatening to spill over as tears in his eyes, preparing himself for the next rally. He would simply have to sort that all out later. There was no time to deal with interpersonal relationships when nationals were on the line.

Seijou received Karasuno's serve no problem, but Kunimi ended up feinting instead of slamming the ball down, and Kageyama had to get the first touch, eliminating him as the setter for that rally. Noya rushed forward to cover, setting it to Ren who scored them a solid point against Seijou. And as they came together to high five one another on a job well done, Noya intertwined their fingers for a quick moment, flashing him a comforting look: a gesture that indicated the libero recognized something was wrong. He wasn't sure how his best friend was able to tell that he was upset, but the mere fact that he did know and was trying to cheer him up made Ren smile.

As long as he had Yu, everything would turn out alright.

Just then, the whistle blew, and Ren turned around to see Mad Dog getting substituted back in. His jaw clenched in annoyance, and on the inside, he was groaning with exasperation. Why couldn't that guy just stay down? It was really starting to infuriate him, seeing the psycho saunter onto court so confidently, but as Mad Dog walked by, their eyes met for a brief moment, and a sudden lapse of shock enveloped his body. Because instead of the usual growl that was etched onto the psycho's face, there was a look of astonishing peace.

The gaze that the Seijou player was eliciting felt unnervingly familiar. Mad Dog seemed calm, as though something deep within him had changed in the past few minutes. It was almost as if he'd been tamed somehow, reined in and controlled. And if Ren was to be completely honest, the idea of Mad Dog overcoming such recklessness so quickly made him envious. It had been so hard, so grueling to get over his own psychosis, and this guy could become a normal player in less than half-an-hour.

Fuck, how unfair is that?

Swallowing thickly, Ren turned around, breaking eye contact and heading over towards the boundary line, grabbing the ball so he could serve. The bitterness that was curdling in his stomach released into his arm as he hit the ball, putting all his emotions into the serve. Iwaizumi ended up receiving it, but the ace had to exert a great deal of effort in order to do so. And then, to Ren's surprise, Oikawa immediately set the ball over to Mad Dog, who slammed it along the pathway of a deep cut shot towards Daichi, who wasn't able to contact it properly, costing them the point.

Huh. They have complete trust in one another, even though Mad Dog has been so unpredictable? So out-of-line uncontrollable?

Ren swept his gaze over the celebrating Seijou team, and he thought that he felt something inside of himself melt away. It was like a flame of recognition had burned a hole through a wall, and realization washed over him gently, like an incoming tide.

Is that how it's been for me this entire time? Has my team always been like Seijou, believing in me regardless of how much I fucked up?

His mind was reeling, recalling nearly every moment he'd shared with the Karasuno team during his time in high school thus far. How Sugawara welcomed him back so warmly despite their history together. How Daichi was so eager to defend him to the coach at his tryout earlier in the year, despite him being suspended for such dangerous reasons. How every single one of his teammates believed that he was the key to their victory in this very match without any semblance of a doubt.

Ren looked up, and for the second time, he met Mad Dog's fierce gaze. And he did what he never thought he would do to someone who represented so many things that he hated about himself: he smiled. It was small, barely above his usual flat expression, but it just felt right. Like he was finally coming to terms with everything about himself.

I understand you, feral pup.

And I think I'm starting to understand myself too.