"Faster!"
A singular figure whispered to no one in particular
He stood alone in a huge gym, possibly up all night or up so early. He did this daily, this was his routine. This was his life. Kageyama Tobio, a name that was synonymous to the "king of the court".
A lot of people could sense his presence right off. Walking around in school, with his team or even just getting a soda you'd feel that he's 'there'. One knew or could easily tell that he always had something in his mind. He was intense, and that was the perfect word to describe him. The intensity though, comes from a passionate urge for victory. Something that makes him easily misunderstood. There was several times in which he knew he had hurt someone he didn't mean to. And there were several times he didn't know he hurt someone, until they left him and denied what he wanted to do the most – to play volleyball.
"Once more…faster"
just how long was he at this now? he silently started to wonder to himself. He shook it off, as he cleared all his thoughts and stared at the battered bottle at the other end of the court, he exhaled and everything vanished.
It was just him, the ball, and the bottle at the other end. The bottle was a goal, the bottle was a marker, the bottle was a point that he could take if he could become more accurate. If he could just pin it down consecutively with a powerful serve, he would stop. But he couldn't, and that made him frustrated. The count would be lost at 5, 9, 8…or that it didn't pass his standards. It was too weak, it wasn't accurate enough. It was just not enough. In his mind, that small mistake is that one point that would make them win or lose a game. And right now, he wasn't passing this standard of his meaning the volley would end. And that's just not acceptable; to be able to play volleyball, he must be better.
In his mind, he never really thought he was the very best. He just knew he was good enough, and that he could clearly see when other people weren't. That was just that, but of course this naiveté would always be judged as arrogance. The mere fact that you're skilled and that you bluntly tell others that they're not is what determines over confidence. He thought this really didn't matter at all. If he could make up for everyone else's skill maybe, just maybe he could carry an entire team to finals. Maybe he could secure a win if he could just be faster. But that one moment during the finals, that one moment he gave it his all and no one followed through and everyone just stared at him. He knew it wasn't just training that he had to do. He had to care about the other 5 people that make up the team.
"One more..."
He shook off his thoughts again, Tobio was an introverted kid. He wasn't charismatic exactly, as he drew more fear from people than anything. But if you really looked at him, his raven black hair was actually elegant. It fell to his face and at the sides of his head gently. Straight and unwavering like his presence itself. His eyes were a dark shade of blue that easily reflected light back. He had a long neck and a built frame due to the sport he loved so much. There was a childish innocence in his face that reacted to the faintest things. Be it from frustration or anger and even a slight excitement. He wasn't really the best at expressing himself as more or less people perceived him as always angry. No surprises there, as the most words that come from his mouth are usually derogatory remarks, in a form of rasping, angry shouts.
His coach had told him, he doesn't need to be a setter. He was pretty good at blocking and spiking as well, so anything was lost. But to him, that was unacceptable. The setter is important, and the setter makes all the hard decisions. And he wants to be that and nothing else.
He sat down, and downed a bottle of water as he looked at the far end of the court. There stood his enemy, that bottle. Broken and slightly leaning left, he thought it best to replace it. As he tried to stand, he realized how fatigued his body was as he fell back. He gave up all dignity and actually just slumped back to the floor and simply laid there. It was just him there, so it's fine. Nothing wrong with resting just a bit he thought. As his vision was directed to the ceiling of their school's gym his eyes wandered at the lights high above. And reached his right hand to it
"This is how far I am right now…"
He closed his fist tightly as he dropped it at his side, with a slight frown on his face, this was a fact and he had to get better. He urged himself to go back up and as he did. His team mates finally came in for practice as well.
"Kageyama? How long have you been—"
Sawamura was cut off as Kageyama fell to the floor, left knee first with a shocked look to his face as well as everyone else.
Everyone rushed, even Hinata. What just happened? Was the thought in their mind, what the hell was Kageyama doing?
"You ok? What the hell you doing, eh" Tanaka with his slight brute concern
"Ah…nothing…I might've over practiced a bit"
He stood up now with a little help from Sawamura.
"I'll help you cool down a bit before heading to the nurses," He let's go of Sawamura's hands and politely gestures that he's fine
"Am fine, I was careless…" As he walked slowly away his team looked at him and Tanaka uttered words that were all in their heads
"This is how far you are from everyone else…Kageyama"
As he stretched out his hand to the quickly vanishing form of Kageyama as he headed to the nurses office.
