I'm only a weakling | haikyuu

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗙𝗶𝗳𝘁𝘆 𝗙𝗼𝘂𝗿: 𝗞𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻 𝗟𝗮𝘃𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿

A man's possessions own him, 

more than he owns them.

× •-•-•-•⟮ ◆ ⟯•-•-•-• ×

A Few Days Later – Miyagi Prefecture

With October's arrival, the relentless summer heat that you once struggled with had finally passed, giving way to the occasional "autumn tiger" heatwave, a final reminder of summer.

Mornings and evenings were cooler now, but by noon, you'd still have to surrender to the heat.

On the street, you were wearing a light, dark-gray hoodie with your ever-present white baseball cap. Your loose black pants covered most of your leg muscles, and you shuffled along in black slides and white socks, glancing at your phone with an unfocused look.

Ugh... so hot.

Frustrated, you looked up, scanning the street until your eyes landed on a nearby café selling cold drinks. There weren't many people around, probably because the hottest days of summer had already passed.

You quickly changed direction and headed for the café, buying yourself a bottle of cold water. The chill of the water felt like a blade slicing down your throat—stoic on the outside, but inwardly relishing it.

Good thing the Spring Nationals wouldn't start until, well, the spring. No need to suffer through a tournament in this heat, and no need to face any out-of-school competitions until next year.

Sure, you loved volleyball, but mainly in controlled practices. When it came to intense matches, it felt more like a test than fun—like suddenly getting a pop quiz after you'd been happily studying on your own.

Sighing in relief, you headed for the department store, planning to grab what you needed and head home. But then, out of nowhere, you sensed someone behind you—a tall figure approaching the café.

A sinking feeling washed over you, urging you to pick up the pace and slip out unnoticed.

Then, right as you sped up, an all-too-loud, familiar voice shattered the brief peace.

"Hey! Isn't that Dynamite?!"

Internally, you flatlined. So much for getting in and out.

× •-•-•-•⟮ ◆ ⟯•-•-•-• ×

Now two tall figures were walking down the street, and the glances from passersby made you squirm, uncomfortably aware of the attention. Next to you, your uninvited companion was all grins. He turned to you, a slight smirk on his face.

"Bet you don't know who I am, right? I'm Yuuji Terushima from Johzenji High!"

"...Yeah, I know." No kidding. I just saw you the other day.

And besides, with his bleach-blond hair, punk style, and a tongue piercing, Terushima was hard to forget. Could he at least keep his distance? The last thing you needed was another rumor about being "violent" toward people, especially not with this guy tagging along and looking, well, like he did.

You could still remember when Oikawa made that offhand comment about you supposedly being a schoolyard bully, and clearly, it had stuck.

"Eh?" Terushima's eyes widened at your flat-toned response, drawing out his confusion.

He moved to face you, leaning in close to peer under your hat. "Wait, you actually know who I am?"

Uncomfortable under his gaze, you looked everywhere but at him, though he didn't seem to mind. His expression was almost playful, as if he were just sizing up whether you were being serious.