If someone would've told Hayami that she'd became the manager of a volleyball team she wouldn't have believed them.
And there she was.
Becoming a manager, a teammate, a friend, a sister.
But mostly, an ice skater.
A strong one.
A National Star.
She...
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Two weeks.
Were two fucking weeks that she was training with the National Team's coach and Usagi on the sidelines, not able to speak up her mind.
Hayami was reaching her limits.
The only two good things that came out of those days were: one, she was getting stronger at taking hits and wasn't afraid anymore to push her body forward, overstepping a line, and two, her actress skills were more believable. She avoided telling her friends and family how much she wanted to scream every time she was in the ring, forced excuses to not make them come to her practice, and pretended her life was as easy as always, not showing neither a stain on her perfect façade.
Until that day of November, a week before the tournament.
Volleyball practice was almost over, and she was all smiley all day, trying not to think about the pain the bruises on her ankles and the various cuts between her feet and toes were giving her. It kept arriving when she less expected, shooting through her feet an electric shock of pain, ten knives hitting her at the same time right between her toes.
She was sure some of them re-opened, she felt the blood inside her shoes, but she couldn't just leave the boys ago fix her bandages. So, she patiently waited, happy that wasn't one of her playing days.
But that time the act wasn't working as always, since someone very observing noticed her flinching quite a few times.
And he didn't like it.
"You did good today!", Hayami clapped her hands, giving the last notes to the boys who needed it the most quickly, so they could go change and finally go home.
While watching them exit the gym, she realized she had to switch from her regular shoes to the rollers, and that would've exposed her broken feet to the coaches.
"Don't put 'em on," Kenma stopped her, surprising her, since she didn't notice he was still there, right beside her, "you come home with me and explain what is going on with you. You may fool the rest of them, but not me. Got it?"
She froze, her eyes drifting on the ground, desperately trying not to lock eyes with him, ashamed, "I'm..."
"Don't you dare say you're sorry," his tone was firm, but she knew from the delicacy of his fingers brushing on her chin, lifting her head, that he was just trying to help her, "we'll talk later. And this time, you'll stay the night. Text your parents. 'Kay?"
When she nodded without replying, Kenma tapped on her jaw, "I asked you a question."
"Okay," she replied, more confident this time, "I'll text them."
"Good girl," he let go of her, "I'll go change. See you at the gates."
"Sure."
Kenma reached the rest of the boys in the changing room, and he saw Yaku and Kuroo both sitting on the benches, waiting for him with serious faces and arms crossed.
