"Come on, Tobi," I said, dragging him by the arm towards the gymnasium. "Stop dragging your feet, come on!"

"Wait, I can- I can walk on my own," he protested. I laughed a little at his defensiveness, and looked back at him. He continued to drag his feet, and I continued to drag him along.

"Yeah, not going to happen," I said right away. I glanced back at him over my shoulder briefly, seeing that his eyes were averted and his cheeks absolutely fiery with blush. I bit my cheek to keep from laughing some more, and faced forward once more. "You're not going to disobey your future manager, are you?"

"No, I... Let me walk!"

I let go of his hand, only to skirt around him to press my hands to his back and push him along, instead. I could only laugh when he stated that somehow this was worse, and so I resolved to take his hand again.

"If that's what you think, then I suppose this is alright for you," I said mischievously. He rather wisely resigned himself to his fate, and I kept my amusement to myself for the time being. When we reached the gymnasium, we could hear the activity inside well before stepping into it. It seemed that there were already drills being done, but I knew we weren't late.

Today we were holding tryouts for the team. And this year, my final year of junior high, someone very special had finally joined Kitagawa Daiichi. It was obvious, but I'll say it anyway: my younger cousin, the terribly aloof Tobio Kageyama.

And I was so excited for him to join the team I managed. For him to join Hajime and Toru and me...

My heart was alight with excitement as we crossed the threshold into the gym. We were already in the proper attire, and I'd already dropped everything I needed by the bench where I usually set up. So I led him right inside, and we passed easily through the crowd of students with my guidance.

When I saw Toru and Hajime, dressed in the gray shirt and dark shorts that were their practice uniforms, I called to them. Seeing only me at first, they both smiled - though the smiles dimmed when from behind me emerged the boy I was still leading.

"Introducing someone very special," I said proudly, yanking on Tobio's arm to pull him to stand beside me. He stumbled a little, but stood tall and addressed his seniors right away.

"Kageyama Tobio," he said in introduction, bowing to them respectfully.

One of Hajime's eyebrows arched upwards, and Toru crossed his arms over his chest. "Kageyama, huh? So this is the relative we've had to hear so much about?"

"Don't be rude, Oikawa," Hajime said sternly right away, punching his arm.

"He's heard all about you guys, too," I said happily. "He's so excited to work with you guys!"

Hajime smiled at my cousin. "We'll see how you do in the tryout," he said. "But if you're as skilled as our manager has suggested, you should have no problem at all."

"I'll do my best," Tobio said.

"Great," I said excitedly, bouncing slightly on the balls of my heels. "Oh, this is gonna be so fun!"

—

It, in fact, was not fun.

It was an obvious, plainly observable fact even to my comparatively untrained eye that Tobio was gifted with an insane level of innate skill for the sport. He was talented right from the start. I'd been present for so many of our grandfather's initial lessons of the sport. It was, in a way, as inherent in our family as the blue eyes Tobio had.

I looked more like my father, but everyone else in the family looked distinctly Kageyama - perhaps that was why grandfather had looked upon him and Miwa so fondly as they rallied back and forth.

Perhaps that was why I would sit in my dad's lap and watch instead of playing. What they had, I had not inherited - but it was in Tobio's blood, as surely as the blueprints that guided him to have his hair, his hair color, and those blueberry-esque eyes.

Tobio had been born and was able to play volleyball. It'd been instinctual, almost. He had this inclination, this desire, this drive to play the sport from as soon as he could walk. Had he worked hard as he grew older to get better, to still improve? Yes, of course.

But there was a difference as clear as day between him and Toru.

Whereas Toru had a natural inclination for athletics, he finely tuned it for volleyball. Even so young as we were, his body was lined and lithe, capable of jumping high and acting with precision while in the air.

He had worked incredibly hard to get to that point. He'd forged himself to be able to do it. And he built himself over incredibly strenuous and taxing work to make it look as effortless as breathing. But his brain never shut off - he was always thinking, always calculating. Similarly, his body was always at work, never truly at rest.

Tobio was the opposite. He didn't have to think as much. What he had was born as he was - likely inherited from our grandfather.

Toru had not been born to play volleyball. But he wanted to, and so he did it. But he had to work to catch up to the base level Tobio had been born with. Through hard work and effort, I thought he had reached that point and well surpassed it.

I was effectively caught between a rock and a hard place. I would support my cousin - it would be blasphemous not to. But I also wanted to support my best friend. But it seemed doing both was nearly impossible, at least while they were together.

Tobio, not one for social cues, had not noticed the shifts in how Toru treated him. At the start, Toru treated him like all other underclassmen - like they were pests, but harmless ones. Toru teased and taunted, but would otherwise offer advice and guidance where he deemed it necessary.

Then it became obvious - the differences between them.

"We'll have him play the basic positions," said coach to me and the assistant coach, "but he'll be a setter some day."

"Indeed," agreed the assistant coach, and I nodded - it was obvious to anyone with eyes that Tobio was bound for that role. But then I locked onto Toru's figure from across the way. He had heard. There was no doubt about that. When he caught my gaze, his brow furrowed and he turned away.

Despite being two years apart, Tobio was nipping at Toru's heels and in many ways surpassed him. He did not care for his studies, his social life, or anything that was not the sport - his drive for improvement was unmatched.

It seemed otherworldly, in a way.

The losses to Shiratorizawa Academy Junior High - in both tournaments of our first year, then both tournaments in our second year - stung. They stung a lot.

Ushiwaka and Shiratorizawa as a whole was a wall that Toru could not climb.

The ball Toru threw at the ground in anger rolled towards me. I crouched down then picked it up, if only to give myself something to do besides focusing on the pit in my stomach and the way my eyes threatened to spill more tears.

Dammit, I hadn't even played, and I was so distraught by this loss.

"Why can't we win?!"

I stood. It was a rhetorical question, one that did not require an answer because we all knew what it was.

We just had to get better, or risk further defeats.

"Come on," I said gently to them. "We've done enough for one day. It's about time we head home, anyway."

It stung - but no more so than this, because the wall itself was moving. It was hard to hit a moving target, and nearly impossible to climb a moving wall.

Shiratorizawa as a wall was difficult enough to get a handhold on.

Tobio proved to be that moving wall, and was impossible to catch.

They were difficult enough on their own, if they were separate. But they were compounded, a threat looming over his shoulder and an obstacle that did not sit still.

That's when Toru stopped smiling.

He worked harder than ever before, at an acceleration that was terrifying. He'd always had incredible growth and his skill progression was impressive but he could not catch up with those above him.

And it hurt him terribly.

"Dammit," Hajime said. I was walking by his side and we'd been so close to leaving school for the night. I promised to stay at practice so long as Hajime and Toru were here - that was something we established our first year here.

But though Hajime wanted to go home, and so did I, there was a certain stubborn someone who refused to leave. Actually... two stubborn someones.

"He's still in there practicing, isn't he? Tobio, too."

"Today was rough, but he's going to kill himself at this rate," Hajime huffed, talking about Toru. "Stay here, I'll go get them. Oikawa doesn't like not walking you home anyway, (Y/n), and I know it's too late for Tobio to walk alone."

"I'll come too," I said. "He seemed to be upset earlier."

"He's been upset for weeks now," Hajime grumbled. "I'll take care of it, (Y/n). Just start making your way towards the school gates. We'll catch up."

"No," I protested, even as Hajime took off at a job down the hall back towards the gym. Something tugged at my mind, wanting to leave as Hajime told me to - but I didn't want to, for my heart was telling me to go after him. I stayed stockstill, my heart hammering against my chest.

Something about Toru's recent behavior didn't sit right with me. It didn't.

And I cared about him too much to let him suffer alone. But what could I do...?

"I don't like this," I murmured. Left with no other options, I idled in the hallway for a moment longer. Then, swallowing down the lump in my throat, I went after him.

It hurt us terribly, too.

It all became so much, it became too much.

And then he snapped.

By the time I got to the gymnasium, it looked like Hajime had been able to convince Toru not to practice any further. They seemed to be talking it out, at least. I looked not at Hajime, but at Toru. Seeing him get subbed out today had been difficult. As the manager there was nothing I could do, because it was not my decision. But I had stood there by the bench, my clipboard pressed to my chest, as Toru sat with a towel draped over his head, hiding away his face.

I wanted to reach out to him. I wanted to comfort him, somehow. I wanted to make him smile at least, or just make an attempt at it, so he would know that I still cared - that I still thought he was good, and clever, and wonderful.

I just didn't know how.

And now, here I had a chance to act. Haji was standing just within the doorway, and there was Toru - and there was a crate's worth of volleyballs scattered across the gym floor on the far side of the net from Toru. He'd been working on his serves.

Oh, and there's Tobio. I knew he'd be here. There was this hopeful look in his eyes and a ball in his hand. I supposed he wanted to turn the individual practices into a dual one, then? I knew it wasn't a good idea. The tension here was palpable, it was a near-physical weight that made it difficult to breathe.

Toru was breathing heavily, focusing only on catching his breath to surely expend several more by getting right back to work. He was hunched over, his hands pressed to his thighs as he took greedy gulps of air. Tobio got closer.

"Oikawa," Tobio said. "Please show me how to serve."

That was when Toru lifted his head.

That was when Toru snapped.

Everything had happened so fast. Since Tobio joined there was this whirlwind of activity and emotions, and despite my best efforts I hadn't been able to get through to Toru. Dammit, and I thought this would have been a good development...

Something was wrong. Toru was not himself.

"No," I gasped, seeing Toru react. All at once, Hajime had run forth, just as Toru was winding back. Tobio's eyes widened as Toru's hand neared his face, intending to make contact - and my breath caught in my throat as Hajime leapt between them, catching Toru's wrist before it could make contact with Tobio's face.

"Calm down, you dumbass!"

For a moment, all was still.

I didn't even dare exhale until Hajime let go of Toru's wrist and they both stood up straight but warily so, as though waiting for the other to make a move. And through it all, Tobio stood still.

"Kageyama," Hajime said, "I'm sorry, but we're done for today."

"Oh, okay," Tobio responded. With a gesture of his head towards the door, Hajime told him silently to go. And he did.

That's when Tobio and Hajime both noticed me.

"(Y/n)," Tobio said when he reached my side. Then, he echoed: "We're done for the day."

"I know," I said quietly. "Go ahead and get cleaned up, then we'll go home."

"Okay," he responded, doing as told. He left the gym, sliding the door shut behind him.

All the while, Hajime did not look away from me. In his eyes I could see his questions, but more than any others, I saw the one he wanted answered most of all: Just how much had you seen?

I'm sure my eyes told the whole story.

I'd seen the whole thing.

Hajime drew a breath in, trying to calm down. And when he spoke, he certainly sounded calmer. "The change-up today was to cool your head," he told Toru. "You need to have some composure!"

Toru said nothing. He only continued to stare at the far wall.

After a moment, he reacted, nearly flinching away before looking at Hajime dead-on. "Right now, I can't win against Shiratorizawa," Toru argued, "so there's no way I can have composure! I want to win and go to nationals. To win, I need to-"

That struck a nerve with Hajime, and his attempts to remain calm fizzled away.

"'I' this, 'I' that," he nearly growled. "It's annoying!"

I gasped - again - as Hajime reared back and headbutt Toru's own. Unable to stop my involuntary gasp, I was similarly unable to stop from reaching for Toru to help, not until I caught myself and refrained from taking a single step.

Toru collapsed to the floor, a leak of blood escaping his nose and though I knew he had to be in so much pain, and I wanted to help, I did not.

"Do you think you're fighting by yourself?! You've got to be kidding, you dumbass!" Hajime grasped the front of Toru's shirt, forcing him to sit up and face him. "If you think how you're doing equals how the team will you, I'll punch you!"

"You already did!"

"There's no one on our team who can beat Ushiwaka one-on-one! However... There are six players on a volleyball court! Even if our opponent's some genius first-year, or Ushiwaka, the team with the better six is stronger, you dumbass!"

Silence then, for a moment.

"The team with the better six is stronger," Toru echoed. He chuckled then, and Hajime released him.

"Sorry, did I headbutt you too hard?"

Toru stood. "Well," he said, "how do I put this?" With blood smeared across his top lip, yet this fiercely determined look in his eyes, he smiled in a defiant, proud sort of way. "I suddenly feel invincible." He faced Hajime, his smile turning sly. "More importantly, Iwa-chan, is 'dumbass' the only insult you've got?"

"Want me to make your nose bleed from the right side, too?"

"N-No!"

"I will if you spend even another moment either not cleaning up your mess, or apologizing to her."

"Huh? Who do you..."

Toru trailed off when his eyes found my own, when he followed Hajime's pointed gaze. For a moment, a stifling moment, he seemed to not even breathe.

I waited for a moment, then decided I didn't know what I even wanted to say, so I turned on my heel and left.

As soon as Tobio reached my side, we walked home together. And we spoke nothing of what happened in the gym.

It had taken a few days, but finally, despite everything, I think I had found some words to say to him. It had been hard to stay away, because staying away from Toru meant also staying away from Hajime, but he had to understand that his actions had hurt me.

He'd nearly struck my cousin.

Whatever the reason, whatever the motive...

No matter how much I cared for Toru, I also cared for Tobio.

No matter how much I understood Toru's position, Tobio was my cousin - and nearly like a brother to me, by now. And like a good older sister, I felt this fierce desire to protect him.

It'd taken a few days, but Toru had certainly made several attempts to get me to talk to him - about what happened, about anything at all - and it was admittedly starting to wear on me.

I still cared for him so, so much, and he did seem apologetic about what he had almost done. Did he apologize to Tobio? Well, no. Did he help Tobio in practice? Also a no. Actually, a resounding hell no. As a matter of fact, he nearly got more passive aggressive towards him.

Still, I cared for Toru deeply and I knew damn well that I couldn't be mad at him for long.

Even now, as he tossed a note folded into a carefully crafted crane onto my desk, I knew that if I unfolded it, I'd find a note from him. So, when the teacher wasn't looking, I unfolded it. I ignored his expectant look - just waiting for me to accidentally look his way - and read it.

It read:

(Y/n)-chan, I'm sorry. I started to act without thinking.

...I tend to do that a lot.

I know it must have scared you - so let me give you a hug and make it better, ok? I miss talking to you. Iwa-chan's been meaner to me lately, too.

But more than that, I've got so much to fill you in on - did you know astronomers discovered a new galaxy? I've been meaning to take my telescope into the yard to do some charting now that the seasons have changed.

I want to share it with someone but Iwa-chan doesn't like that kind of thing. Besides, some new constellations I haven't shown you before should be visible by now! Think we can grab some milk buns from the market and spend tomorrow night to stargaze?

Please let me know soon.

Toru, the sorriest man on the planet and maybe the whole universe, too.

As I finished reading, I pointedly directed my eyes back towards the board to jot down the notes I'd missed. In my periphery, I could see Toru's shoulders slump.

I absolutely intended on going stargazing with him.

I would just let this play out a little longer.