ため野矢の: Because of Noya

タイミング Timing

Time went by quickly.
I didn't realize it until I found myself staring at the fully bloomed sakura trees slowly passing by- many petals gently disconnecting themselves from the tree branches they emerged from, and floating aimlessly in the wind.
Rays of sunlight caught in between the downcasted shadows of the trees covering their fallen petals, the dusty pink ground having only slim lines of brightness scattering the area.

In other words,
it was Spring.

While I was explaining the beautiful scenery before me, it so happens that I wasn't actually outside. No, I was in a cramped and warm bus with little to no air conditioning left.
My only solace was to look out the window (whereas even THAT was difficult to do: due to the fact that sunlight viciously beat down on the clear glass, making my glasses bright and my eyes squint considerably in the process. It was sure annoying and frustrating, to say the least).

At the times where I was unable to see, I would idly turn my head to the back of the seat in front of me, letting the neon yellow rays penetrate the side of my face with its illuminating color. I reminisced about the past, or everything that happened before spring jumped out of the blue.

Of course, I stayed with the Karasuno boy's volleyball club. Only once or twice a month would I agree to partake in physical practice with them, but that was only when they were down a few people and needed my help. Other than that, I calmly observed from the sidelines as always- taking note of any things that needed work or fixing between the players. It helped them quite a lot, as Ukai-kun would say, to which I would humbly deny it and base it off of their sheer natural talent. Nothing out of the usual, really.

Except.

To this, I shifted my pupils to Nishinoya-san's row, which was two seats up diagonal from mine.

He made up the entirety of my memory during the previous months, as much as I would rather not admit. Because we were conveniently set up in the same class, he then directed some little conversation towards me whenever necessary. I didn't mind, surprisingly. It wasn't necessarily annoying nor obnoxious- it was quite refreshing once in a while, actually. But, every once in a while he would strike up a long conversation with me at practice or after school, or bring me to his parents' diner (I went about 4 or 5 times after my first encounter. It was only there where I ever ate shrimp tempura udon). Although the visits were fun and inexpensive, Nishinoya-san's mother persistently pushed us to "go out". It was uncomfortable, to say the least, whenever she caught me alone and decided to talk about that. And if it wasn't about dating each other, it was stories of Nishinoya-san as a toddler/ elementary schooler, or endless picture albums of him doing various things (the bathtub pictures were absolutely degrading. Thankfully, I weaseled my way out of seeing them with Nishinoya-san's assistance).

Needless to say, other than just his parents' diner, he brought me to various other places. All in which I would have rather not attended, to say the least. The one I vividly remember and despised the most was the mixer- and to this very day, I have no idea how the pushy boy managed to talk me into it (I could see the similarity between him and his mother in that sense).
I barely managed to come into that room when I arrived, nevertheless associate with anyone in there anyways. In fact, I was quiet for the most part while strangers among me conversed. The only time I would pipe up was when Nishinoya-san introduced something for me to talk about as well-which I wouldn't make for much of an enticing story. Although, meanwhile, I was actually very relieved the libero was by my side during the social gathering.
Maybe I could say I was relieved to have him by my side at all. Nishinoya-san was really the only person I ever really talked to, so it would be okay to feel this way, right?

"YO! NAKEMURA-SAN, HURRY! HINATA'S ABOUT TO HURL AGAIN!"

I heard a concerned and frightened voice emerge from my daydream as I turned my attention to the front rows of the bus. Tanaka-san was turned to me, with a pleading and sickened expression. Kageyama-kun was desperately trying to move from his difficult position as Hinata-kun was hunched over in agony. The frightened setter was babbling and screaming incoherently over Sugawara-senpai's (yes, senpai. It was more formal for me to call him that instead of "-san") soothing yet frantic sentences.
I angrily mumbled to myself as I grabbed the pale orange bucket generously lent to the volleyball team by the high school's gym for the trip. I shuffled my way around a music-induced Kiyoko-san sitting next to me, and hurriedly made my way to the commotion deriving from the two freshman boys sitting in the front.