₊˚✧ . ・❝I like you more than as a friend, ya know, WE like you.❞ ₊˚✧ . ・
°•. In which 16-year-old, second-year Miyako Ichinose (美夜子 一ノ瀬) chose to begin her new life at Inarizaki High as the co-assistant of the Volleyball Team, after leaving her ol...
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✦ The Skytrain zoomed past you quickly, blowing your hair fiercely in the wind. The thrill of being in a new country was electrifying.
It was late September, and the air had just transitioned to chills and light breezes. You clenched tightly to your luggage set, which was too many for you to carry. How was it that you were even able to haul all of them to the station?
The move from America to Hyogo was far from easy. You were going to be all on your own now, starting fresh. And that new reality excited you more than anything. You were impulsive and determined; everyone closest to you knew that well. Someone who strives towards their goals while pursuing freedom was the type of young lady that you always sought to be. Someone loud and proud, someone who never looks back.
Your life in America, however, never quite allowed that for you. Your family takes pride in being pristine prodigies, prime and proper. Never once had you gone out of line. Your household avoided all controversy. Everyone was always watching, listening. It was suffocating. And once the spotlight became too overwhelming, you did the only thing you could think of: you fled. And Japan was where you landed.
Hearing back from Inazari High, declaring you accepted, was the last thing you expected. Even with the massive language barrier, the test for this school was a bitch; you can only assume it was with your grades and wits that you were able to charm the ambassadors.
From friend zones to love triangles, heartbreak, and firm rejection, you've experienced it all. When you first began hooking up left and right with those who either looked at you with a bit too much emotion or those who boldly tried pursuing you, you had drilled the "no strings attached" phrase into your mind. But now you were ready to experience something new, something deeper.
Needless to say, you weren't at all worried about being on your own from now on. It wasn't like you weren't alone before. While you admittedly don't agree that Japanese culture is up your alley (family orientation and respecting authority? No, not for you) You've always admired the work ethic that comes with it. The vast amounts of opportunities laid before you were quite the contrast from your old life and the strict rules that came with it.
So tunnel-visioned on the thrilling season ahead of you, you didn't even realize that you'd arrived at your stop. With one last inhalation, you adjust your bag strap over your shoulder, hauling your luggage as you exit the station. Your new dorm was right across the park.
"How is this school so big?" You muttered under your breath in English.
Hyogo had way too big of schools, and Inarizaki was no exception. In fact, it was probably the biggest one you've ever seen. A mere couple of hours into your new life, and you were already getting culture shock. The walk from the station to your school was incredibly awkward (for you, at least). You were an American and looked the part, you supposed.
As you stood across from your new school, you noticed the small groups of people who were chattering with friends seconds ago now focusing their attention on you. Apparently, a foreigner was something they rarely saw.
Too distracted by the overwhelmingly large campus, you failed to see the sports team running right for you. And supposedly they didn't see you either, because within seconds too fast for you to process, you collided with a hard chest, bumping your head against it and falling backward, knocking down your luggage. The person you ran into grabbed your arm and gently held you up, balancing you so you wouldn't fall to the ground.
Gasps and murmurs surrounded you as the team hurried towards you to help with your luggage, apologizing profusely with words you couldn't quite understand. You caught onto a "'Tsumu, you idiot!" and a "watch where you're going, dumbass." You could only assume "Tsumu" was the person you collided with. Looking up from the ground, you recognized the volleyball uniform the man was wearing, along with his poorly bleached hair and hazel eyes.
"Fuck," you swore in your native language. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." The man tilted his head at you as the rest of the team copied him. And you suddenly realized that you weren't speaking Japanese. "Different country, different language, you idiot, get it together," you scolded mentally.
"Um...sorry," you corrected. How embarrassing."Tsumu" hummed curiously and leaned in a little too close to analyze you."Never met an American before. Your accent is cute."
"Thanks," you deadpanned, then, gathering all the info on the Japanese language you learned, you tried to muster up a poorly pronounced apology."I'm sorry for bumping into you, wasn't payin' attention."
"Well, my brother here wasn't either, so the fault's on him." A new voice grumbled. "You aren't hurt, are ya?" Another man with "Tsumu's" exact features yet different hair popped up behind him. They were... twins?
"I'm alright," you dismissed as you gathered your stuff and pointed at the dorms on your map. "Could you tell me where this is?"
"Oh, you're a foreigner, aren't you?" A third voice asked; it was another athletic man wearing their uniform. He had short gray hair with black ends and a soft yet curious gaze."This guy here's Atsumu Miya, our setter." He gestured over to the man you crashed into. "He can help you out, can't he?"The gray-haired man glared at Atsumu as if he were telepathically saying, "You better help her out; it's the least you could do." You couldn't help the drop of sweat that rolled down your cheek, despite not being the one getting glared at. Whoever this guy was, he had an intense look in his eyes that immediately told you he was stern about things.
"Well, cutting warmup short can't hurt..." Atsumu chuckled. "But if I'm doing this, 'Samu's coming with!" He whipped around to face his twin, who returned his expression with a deadpan.
His look of absolute exhaustion immediately disappeared, however, as he turned to face you. Replaced with curious eyes and a lazy smirk."I've never met an American either, 'Tsumu. Your accent is cute."
"Thanks?" You tried to give him your best customer smile."Osamu Miya, at your service, miss...?"
"Miyako Ichinose"
"Ichinose..." he repeated, feeling how her name sounded. He smiled at you, crooked teeth staring into your eyes.
"I have a feeling we're going to get along. Shall we show you the way to your dorm?"
