I'm only a weakling | haikyuu

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗙𝗶𝗳𝘁𝘆 𝗙𝗶𝘃𝗲: 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴-𝗚𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀

I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, 

that it kisses them so gently?

*. * ·

As the training match went on, you shifted over to Johzenji's side, letting them finally enjoy the relief of having their former opponent as a teammate. Your powerful presence held steady, even without the "mysterious third-rate curse." Now Johzenji got to experience firsthand what it was like to be backed by your relentless energy.

Karasuno, on the other hand, once again felt the full brunt of your intensity and skill on the opposing side, the same energy that had challenged their minds and bodies so many times before.

Fortunately, though, every struggle has an end.

When the sun began to set, the exhausted players finally started wrapping up. By this time, a small crowd had gathered around the gym, drawn in by the intense training.

Johzenji's players, despite their exhaustion, felt they'd gained a lot. After playing with you, they left with a stronger understanding of the strategies and skill it takes to excel in volleyball. Terushima, with his usual confident grin, slapped a hand on the back of his head, cheerfully waved off Karasuno and you, promising with a laugh that next time, Johzenji would definitely take the win.

As you said your own goodbyes to Karasuno, unaware of the lasting impression you'd left, you finally walked away, feeling as though even this brief goodbye was a weight lifted from your shoulders.

Satisfied, all three groups went their separate ways. Karasuno and Johzenji were content with their hard-earned gains—and happy to finally be free from your relentless pace. You, however, were just relieved to avoid any further social interaction with other teams.

For you, though, today wasn't without its lessons. At the very least, it had reminded you just how powerful habits could be.

Habits could build a person up—or break them down.

Walking home alone, you slipped one hand into your pocket, lost in thought, idly crinkling the empty water bottle in your other hand. The faint "crack" sound brought you back to the moment. Surprised, you glanced down at the bottle.

The once-ice-cold water was now warm.

You rubbed the condensation on its sides, your mind racing.

It seems...I still have a long way to go.

With a decisive squeeze, the bottle crumpled in your hand. Glancing toward a nearby trash can, you gave it a quick aim, lifted onto your toes, and—

thud

—perfect shot.

*. * ·

In the gym, you tossed the volleyball up, eyes on the empty court ahead. With a forceful swing, you served it across the net. The ball wobbled slightly, then slowed, floating briefly before dropping softly to the ground.

Shaking your head, you went to retrieve it.

This was part of your ongoing effort to make the "jump float serve" a natural skill instead of just an occasional trick play.

That training match with Karasuno and Johzenji had opened your eyes to how much your game relied on ingrained habits. By turning even an average serve into muscle memory, you realized you could eventually make it a stronger tool. If you mastered every serve with intention and consistency, then even a less-than-perfect attempt would still be better than average, almost as if your body resisted anything sloppy.