Iwaizumi dreamt of Nekoma that night. And aliens. All of the Nekoma volleyball players had become little green men, with only their respective jerseys and hairstyles to distinguish them. They had telekinetic powers, and kept scoring points by shoving the ball away from Iwaizumi's hands. Just as he was sure he was about to score a point himself, the little pudding-head one pulled out a massive laser gun, and fired it at him. He woke up in a cold sweat, frantically patting his chest to make sure he was still in one piece.
Stupid alien-boy with his stupid conspiracies, and stupid Nekoma, and stupid ME...
He left early for school that morning; after his dream about Nekoma and their extra-terrestrial players, he hadn't been able to sleep, and figured he might as well get a head start. As he walked, he passed the grove of tall grass where he'd encountered alien-boy the night before. There were still trampled patches from where he had run in and out of the little ditch; farther on, he could see indents where the other boy had entered and been walking around.
Aliens, here. Of all places. He's really gotta be out there.
--
The rest of the day passed slowly for Iwaizumi, which he chalked up to a result of his less-than-restful night. Several times, he felt himself nodding to sleep in class, and had to force himself to sit up; he couldn't afford any poor marks right now.
However, this became increasingly difficult throughout the course of the day, and by the time his last class ended, Iwaizumi was almost tempted to cancel practice so he could go home and nap; but he knew this would never fly, especially not with their practice match against Nekoma just one day away. He checked his watch; there was still a half hour until practice started. Maybe he could find a nice, quiet classroom, and take a quick rest.
The C Building would almost certainly be close to empty this time of day. C Building housed most of the science and math classes, which were usually in the morning and early afternoon. Iwaizumi slipped through the crowded halls of the main building, and outside to the next building.
The third floor is probably my best bet, he thought. Most of those rooms are labs, anyway.
For three-thirty, there were still a surprising amount of people in the building, but Iwaizumi didn't think much of it. They were probably just stragglers from the last classes.
As he turned a corner to take the stairs, something caught his eye; amongst the sea of plaid and beige, one figure stood taller than the rest of the students. He couldn't see his face, but he could see neatly-parted brown hair, and a familiar swagger—besides, no one else could possibly trigger his indigestion like that.
God, not alien-boy again.
Fortunately for Iwaizumi, alien-boy didn't notice him, and busied himself instead with the contents of his backpack. He pulled out a folder full of papers, examined them for a minute, then tucked them under his arm. In one swift motion, he slung his book bag back over his shoulder, and headed down the hallway.
Where's he going? Iwaizumi wondered. He looked at his watch; he still had fifteen minutes before he had to be at the gym. I guess it couldn't hurt to look.
He stepped out from his corner, and began following alien-boy from a safe distance. They went down the hallway, away from the crowds, and Iwaizumi had to start getting sneakier about his mission. Finally, he stopped at a door, and stepped inside. A chorus of voices came from inside, but Iwaizumi couldn't hear what they were saying; he stepped closer, and pressed his ear to the door.
"...last night, but no success," alien-boy's voice was saying. "I'll try again tonight."
"If anyone can do it, Tooru, it's you."
