Hereafter | Haikyuu!! Oneshots | Hiatus!

II: The Curious

Several Years Later

There was an outburst of commotion as soon as the Schweiden Adlers left the court. Reporters were bustling from left to right, trying to get exclusive shots of the famed players exiting the arena. I was unfortunately sandwiched between two feisty paparazzi and had to endure the uncivil screaming and shoving these two brought to the table.

Groaning and barking out retorts as I felt increasingly uncomfortable, I furrowed my brows and tried to press on, but to no avail. Eventually, I gave up and just walked to the back of the mob, hoping that I'd get in a couple of good shots during the private press meeting.

Sitting down on a bench and looking at my badge to pass the time, I sighed as my thumb smoothed over the image of my headshot and title, bringing my eyes to stare at the laminated card. Suddenly feeling a wave of reminiscence overcome me, a small smile tugged at my lips as I remembered how excited I was to finally be able to come here and interview the team that held so many legends from my high school days.

As I went down the list of players, my cheeks rosied up when Ushijima's face popped into my head. Immediately trying to cool myself down, I noticed that I hadn't realized just how much I missed seeing him, after I went to university. Curling my fingers around my reporter's ID card, I thought about our situation for a while.

Of course, we still kept in touch occasionally, but both of us were pretty busy people, and never got the chance to meet after graduation. I understood, but there was always that one thought that crossed my mind every week or so about how he was doing. When acknowledging my behavior, I then knew that I still loved him. I'd become hopelessly attracted to him during those two years we spent together at school, and foolishly held the same feelings in the present. It was ludicrous, so much so that I didn't at all believe that Wakatoshi reciprocated my affection.

Taking a deep breath and standing up from my seated position on the bench, I made my way towards the press room, clearing all nostalgic thoughts from my head.

I could only await the fateful moment when I'd come face-to-face with my old high school friend.

__

When I arrived at the interviewing quarters, the room was already packed with reporters dying to get the latest scoop on the Schweiden Adlers. Spotting my reservation near the front of the masses of chairs, I silently thanked my company for choosing such a convenient spot. Sliding into my seat, I pulled out a notebook and pen, and uncased my camera from its pouch. Adjusting the lens, I saw the back door open out of the corner of my eye. In knowing that it was probably the team, I quickly finished my business and got ready to shoot.

Sure enough, the Adlers filed in and onto the small stage set up at the front of the room. Hearing dozens of camera flashes behind me, I sighed and shook my head, knowing that the players could've gotten easily irritated from being photographed so early on. Moreover, they were taking pictures at the wrong time -- the best part was yet to come.

When the room settled, it was time for questions.

As multiple reporters chimed out, I folded my hands in my lap and simply waited for my turn, quietly scoffing at the bumbling questions that were being asked. It was blatantly obvious none of their inquisitions would yield good articles, but I kept to myself.

When one of the paparazzi was busy inquiring the team's captain on what their goals were for the next game, my stare started to float towards Wakatoshi. To my surprise, he caught it, his eyes becoming the tiniest bit gentler when gazing into mine. His irises held recognition as his eyebrows raised and the expression upon his face became curious.

Giving him a small but embarrassed smile, I quickly mouthed a "good job with the match" before looking back down at my blank notepad. It was quite the shock to see that Ushijima still remembered me. My heart fluttered nervously as I bounced my leg, hoping that when I raised my head back up again that his eyes weren't still locked onto my figure. If anything else happened, I could've sworn I wouldn't be able to make it out of the press conference alive.

Slowly lifting my chin upwards, I peeked at Ushijima, pleading that I wouldn't meet his irises again. Breathing a sigh of relief when I found that he'd finally turned towards the reporter, nodding and paying attention to their questions, I was now able to properly focus on what I was assigned to do. As I jotted down a few notes and prepared myself for my segment of the interview, I hadn't noticed that a small grin was playing on the edges of Ushijima's lips, and a far-off look took the place of his usually attentive demeanor. 

__

That night, while I was submitting a report to my editor, I received a message from Wakatoshi. Surprised, I opened my phone and checked to see what he said. Smiling to myself while hoping that he'd rang me up to meet again, though it was almost impossible that he did, I scanned through his text and clutched my phone with both hands.

I almost forgot that I had your number. Luckily, I went through my contact list and found you. We haven't talked in a long time -- I'm wondering if we could catch up. Are you free anytime this weekend? We could stop by a cafe and grab lunch.

"What."

Staring at phone screen in disbelief, my eyebrows furrowed as I took a double-take of what he just sent. This had to be the last thing that I was expecting to happen on such a quaint evening like this. Heat rushed to my face at the implications of meeting again, and I couldn't help but wonder what it meant. Was it a date, or was it just a luncheon between friends? Knowing Ushijima, he probably would have told me if he had romantic motives behind this, right?

Or maybe I just didn't know him as well as I thought I did.

I pressed my phone screen against my forehead and silently screamed into my hands, suddenly becoming flustered and unable to think, as well as speak. It felt like I was back in high school, fangirling over Wakatoshi like this. Back then, when he gave me even the slightest amount of attention -- saying good morning, interacting with me during breaks, walking me home from school -- my mind would race uncontrollably, stumbling over the image I had of him ingrained into my head. 

But to what extent was that depiction true?

Over the years, I'd obtained the notion that Ushijima Wakatoshi was transparent. He told the truth so blatantly and always acted in accordance with the perception I and everyone else seemed to have of him. He was strong-minded and never hesitant; he presented himself as being bold, unassailable, confident, and his fierceness on the volleyball court was unwavering. 

At that moment, I came to the realization that I'd never really gotten to know him as a person. I'd only approached him from a reporter's standpoint, and in turn, had only seen him through rose-colored glasses. To an extent, my conscience had manifested a false sense of Ushijima that I hadn't even realized was ingenuine. 

Feeling a bit disappointed at myself, I lowered my phone and thought about the predicament for a second. 

 Considering my feelings, I debated with myself as to what I should do. 

I liked him, that was the one thing I was sure about. The manner in which he spoke, the way his eyes softened just the slightest bit when talking to me made me swoon. He was always kind and gentle to me, despite our height difference and his stature. I wouldn't even be surprised if my emotions had heightened after high school. 

Ushijima had an undeniable affect on my emotions, as cliché as that sounded. 

And though I was still unsure about whether or not he returned my feelings of affection, I came to conclusion that this was the one rare chance I had to get to know him heart to heart. Smiling as I started to form a response, my mind wandered off to fantasize about all the things that could possibly happen at our lunch date.

I'll see you tomorrow! I heard from a friend that there's a new sandwich place opening near our alma matter :)