Work Text:
Taniguchi Itsuo is the only first-year starter at Shiratorizawa.
There is always one first-year starter on the Shiratorizawa boys’ volleyball team, and it’s always the strongest of the group – always a player handpicked for captaincy. It was Tsutomu when he was a first-year, and Shirabu before him, and Ushijima before him, and countless other captains before them. It was Tsutomu when he was a first-year, and he remembers well how it felt to be the youngest in a group of incredible players, with all this pressure piled on his shoulders, only getting heavier as he grew to understand its magnitude. And he remembers well how it felt to have six senpais among the rest of the team – people he looked up to, people he wanted desperately to beat.
Tsutomu remembers, which is why he watches Taniguchi so closely. The kid is a miniature force of nature, a tornado of flailing arms and leaping legs. He’s only 170cm, but he jumps like Hinata Shouyou in the fifth set of a championship match and spikes like a hurricane knocking houses off their foundations. He’s quiet, off the court – nervous, jittery, unsure what to do with himself – but on it, he’s always the first to stand up after a water break, the loudest yell when a point is won, and the strongest high-five when one of his teammates scores. He’s going to be a powerful ace one day, Tsutomu’s sure of it.
But recently, there’s been something off about Taniguchi’s behavior. Sometimes, when he’s on the sidelines watching a practice match, he’ll zone out so far into his own mind, he’ll narrowly miss getting hit in the face by a stray ball. And last week, on the bus, after a conversation with Sagae, his entire face went red as a stoplight. And just yesterday, during the after-practice meeting, he squeezed a water bottle too much and spilled water all over himself.
It’s not that Tsutomu is worried, it’s just that … Well, he kind-of is worried. Their team relies on all of its players performing at maximum capacity in every game, and if Taniguchi is getting distracted this easily during practice, what’s to say he won’t fumble a receive or miss a serve at a crucial moment?
Tsutomu needs to do something about this, he decides. But first, he needs to figure out (or at least try to figure out) what exactly is wrong.
“Hey,” he says to Sagae one day after practice as they’re standing on one side of the gym, supervising cleanup, “does Taniguchi seem a little … off to you?”
“What do you mean, off?” His vice-captain turns to Tsutomu, one hand on his hip and one eyebrow raised in a way that Tsutomu has never been able to pull off and is still, frankly, kind-of jealous of.
“I mean … distracted.” Tsutomu waves a hand in the air animatedly in an attempt to demonstrate. Sagae doesn’t seem to get it.
“Distracted how?”
“Like …. zoning out all the time,” Tsutomu tries to explain. “Not paying attention during meetings. Getting weirdly red in the face when I pat him on the shoulder after practice. Stuff like that.”
Sagae stares at him for a moment longer, and then suddenly bursts out laughing. He’s got a weird laugh, Tsutomu has always thought – like a hyena with a sore throat. “That’s it?” he asks between snickers. “That’s what you’re worried about? Goshiki, I thought you were better than this. Like, it literally happened to you two years ago.”
“What literally happened to me two years ago?” Tsutomu demands. He can feel his face starting to heat up.
“But I guess, maybe it’s a different feeling, watching it instead of experiencing it …” Sagae muses, still chuckling.
“Experiencing what?” Tsutomu glares at his friend. “Explain.”
“Okay, sorry, sorry.” Sagae takes a few deep breaths, gets his laughter under control, then says, “He’s not zoning out, he’s zoning in.”
“That doesn’t make any sense!” Tsutomu hasn’t wanted to punch someone this much since Tsukishima Kei told him at one of their training camps that he was about as good at blocking as a three-day-old, snot-filled tissue.
“He’s … God, how do I put this lightly.” Sagae looks up at the ceiling as though asking the gods of volleyball for assistance. When no answer is (as far as Tsutomu can tell) forthcoming, he turns back to Tsutomu and continues, “Discovering aspects of his identity that he’d been previously unaware of.”
“Sagae, you know I barely passed Japanese lit,” Tsutomu complains. “Just get to the point.”
“Okay. Alright.” Sagae looks at Tsutomu very seriously, as though about to tell him someone died, he’s banned from volleyball for a month, or something else equally tragic.
“The kid’s gay.”
“He’s what?!”
“Gay. Homosexual. Playing for the other team. Looking for a different kind of lifestyle.”
“Sagae, I know what gay means,” Tsutomu says tiredly, swiping a hand across his forehead. His hair just falls back onto it sweaty as ever, leaving him unsure why he ever bothered – which, honestly, is a perfect metaphor for his friendship with his Sagae in general.
The friend in question shrugs. “Well, you didn’t respond at first.”
“But how do you know he’s gay?” Tsutomu asks.
Sagae stares at him as though to say, Really? Tsutomu meets the stare head-on. Really.
“It’s ‘cause of the same stuff you were talking about earlier,” the vice-captain explains. “Getting distracted. Zoning out. Blushing after we talk to him one on one. That sort of thing. He’s realized he’s attracted to his senpai, and it’s occupying his every non-volleyball thought. You’ve gotta remember – you were the same way for a few months our first year.”
Tsutomu thinks back – to a time when he was haunted by Oohira’s arms and Yamagata’s legs and Tendou’s grin, a time when every conversation with an upperclassman left him stuttering and shaking, a time when he wanted to do nothing but watch his senpai practice, nothing except maybe touch them in places he definitely wasn’t supposed to touch …
“Oh,” he says.
“So, you get it now?” Sagae asks.
“Taniguchi’s gay!”
“Very much so, yes.” Sagae appears to be enjoying this revelation far too much for his own good.
“I need to talk to him!” Tsutomu exclaims.
“What? Why?” For the first time in this conversation, Sagae seems to be the one confused. Tsutomu stifles the urge to grin.
“I have to help him out! Explain what’s going on! One of my senpai did it for me!” Tsutomu takes a couple of steps forward, heading for the other side of the gym, where the first-years are pushing the nets into the closet.
“Dude. Slow down.” Sagae grabs Tsutomu by the arm, pulls him back. “Do you have any idea what you’ll say?”
Tsutomu thinks about it. The words “gay” and “senpai” come to mind, but not much else. “No,” he admits.
“See, you can’t just rush into this,” Sagae says. “I don’t know much about gay crises, but I don’t think running up to him now and yelling that you know he’s gay in front of everyone would be a good plan.”
“So … what would be a good plan?”
Sagae stares at him as though he just asked what a receive is. “I literally just said I don’t know anything about gay crises. Ask someone else.”
“But who else?” Tsutomu presses.
Sagae just shrugs. “Anyone else. I dunno.” He pushes off the wall and starts heading for the other side of the gym, only to turn around and add, “But do tell me about the conversation, when you have it – I bet it’ll be hilarious.”
And with that, Tsutomu’s vice-captain makes his exit, leaving Tsutomu somehow both more enlightened and more confused than he’d been when they started talking.
“Ask someone else,” Sagae had said.
And Tsutomu does ask someone else. Actually, he asks everyone else. But he starts with someone who is, by all accounts, one of the best senpai in the Miyagi prefecture: Hinata Shouyou.
“Taniguchi is what?” Shouyou asks, raising his voice to shout above the numerous conversations happening around him. Karasuno’s practice always goes late, it seems, and the captain always treats the team to pork buns afterward. (Luckily Yamaguchi, this year’s captain, makes good money from tutoring, and, unbelievably, is willing to spend it on his team.)
“He’s gay,” Tsutomu repeats in a whisper. He presses his phone close to his face and glances around the train furtively, hoping nobody will notice him or his scandalous conversation.
“Oh! Cool! Good for him – hey, Ito, don’t eat all of them before the senpai have a shot!”
“Not good for him,” Tsutomu says. “Well, I mean, it is, but it’s also distracting for him, and probably confusing for him – he can barely concentrate in practice.”
“Like you when you were a first-year?” Shouyou asks.
Tsutomu starts to agree – then realizes that he never told Shouyou about those very distressing months of his first year. “How do you know that?” he hisses.
“Yacchan told me,” Shouyou explains cheerfully.
Oh. Tsutomu would curse that wonderful manager and her boundless compassion and her incredible listening skills if not for, well, her boundless compassion and her incredible listening skills.
“Should she not have?” Shouyou asks, sounding more concerned.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Tsutomu reassures him hurriedly. “It’s just … kinda embarrassing for the guy I’m currently dating to know about my past crushes, is all.”
“I don’t think it’s embarrassing at all! I think first-year you was adorable.” Tsutomu can’t see it through the phone, but he’s certain Shouyou is smiling. He has a sudden burning desire to jump off the train at the next stop and run as fast as he can to Karasuno. “Remind me to tell you sometime about my senpai … But you called to talk about Taniguchi, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Pull yourself together, Tsutomu. “I want to talk to him about … gay stuff, but I have no idea what to say.”
“Oh. Huh. One sec.” There’s a sudden muffling noise on the other end of the phone, as though Shouyou is covering his microphone with his hand. Then, he says, “Tobio says you should tell him to forget about romance and only focus on volleyball.”
“You told Kageyama about this?” Tsutomu asks. His voice sounds, to him, as though it’s coming from far away.
“And Tsukishima and Yamaguchi! … Tobio, that’s not good advice, he’s old enough to focus on more than volleyball.”
“He’s only fourteen,” Tsutomu hears Kageyama argue. “I only thought about volleyball when I was fourteen.”
“Not all of us are as special as you, Kageyama,” Tsukishima deadpans, kind as always.
“Can’t he just say that it’s okay to be gay, and that the team will accept him no matter what?” Yamaguchi inquires politely.
“That’s an unrealistic statement,” Tsukishima replies. “Goshiki can’t guarantee that the team will always be free from bigots. It’s Shiratorizawa.”
“Hey! Shiratorizawa is much nicer than it used to be!” Shouyou cuts in.
“Yeah, because your opinion on this is so unbiased.”
“GUYS!” Tsutomu shouts. “I CAN’T JUST TELL HIM IT’S OKAY TO BE GAY! WHAT IF HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT BEING GAY MEANS!”
For a second, there is silence at the other end of the phone. Tsutomu can even hear pork bun wrappers crunching – although that might be just static.
And then, he looks up and realizes that everyone on the train is staring at him. A woman in a pantsuit pauses halfway through turning the page of her newspaper. An old man fails to notice that an orange from the bag of groceries at his feet is rolling across the floor. Two kids freeze in the midst of devouring a candy bar.
The train lurches to a halt, as though Tsutomu wasn’t already painfully aware of his mistake – but as it brakes, he notices the familiar landscape outside. This is his stop.
Tsutomu silently thanks every god he can think of (including a few that are definitely fictional), gathers up his stuff, and practically sprints off the train.
Once he’s safely outside, he puts his phone back up to his ear.
“Well, that was unnecessarily loud,” Tsukishima is saying. “As though I didn’t have a headache already.”
“It was loud for me -but why was it loud for you?” Tsutomu wants to know.
“Um,” Shouyou says.
Tsutomu thinks for a second, then gasps. “Am I on speakerphone?”
“Maybe a little?”
“You are.” Tsutomu can’t see it through the phone, but he’s positive Tsukishima has one of those smug dinosaur-that-just-devoured-an-entire-family grins on his face. He hates Tsukishima.
“How is this supposed to help me?” Tsutomu demands. “Or Taniguchi?”
“Um, Hinata asked us for our opinions,” Yamaguchi says.
“But I didn’t ask him to!” Tsutomu kicks a stone on the side of the road. It goes flying across the path, hits the curb, then stops in the middle of the path. Not nearly as satisfying as he’d hoped it would be.
“I thought when you asked me you wanted as many opinions as possible!” Shouyou shouts. “Sorry for trying to help!”
“You aren’t sorry, and you aren’t trying to help!” Tsutomu retorts. “Next time, I won’t ask you at all!”
He hits the end call button on his phone and sends it spiraling into the dirt.
Later that afternoon, after calling and apologizing to Shouyou (Tsutomu lets his temper get the best of him sometimes – it’s a flaw he’s working on but hasn’t yet defeated), Tsutomu tries asking someone else.
Or, actually, several someone elses. In one place. It’s been a tradition for the past couple of years for the captains of a few prominent teams in Miyagi (and the captains of a couple of prominent teams in Tokyo, for reasons that Ushijima explained to Tsutomu once but that he never quite understood) to have a group chat on Skype in which they, supposedly, talk to each other about captainly matters. For as long as Tsutomu’s been involved, the chat has mostly been a place for arguments and memes, but Tsutomu sees no reason why he shouldn’t be able to actually ask for some advice.
So, he opens up his computer, waits the requisite fifteen minutes for Skype to load up properly, and types in a question.
5:37 P.M.
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: What would u guys do if u had a kouhai who was getting distracted in practice bc he was gay but didnt know he was gay??
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: What would u say to him????
yamayamaguchi: This is about that one first year you called hinata about earlier, right?
yamayamaguchi: Sorry that got out of hand :/
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: No its fine!!!!! It was my fault!!!!
turnip head: things usually are
GIANT SETTER: NICE KILL KINDAICHI!!!!
GIANT SETTER: ALSO WHATS GOIN ON
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: I have a first year whos really distracted all the time
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: N my vice captain says its because hes gay
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: But he might not know it
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: I want to talk to him but dont know what to say
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: :( :( :(
GIANT SETTER: TELL HIM A COOL STORY
GIANT SETTER: ABOUT A COOL GUY WHO WAS COOL AND LIKED GUYS
GIANT SETTER: AND REALLY GOOD AT VOLLEYBALL!!!
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: But Im no good at writing
GIANT SETTER: IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE GOOD
GIANT SETTER: JUST HAS TO BE COOL
sou cool: are we talkin about stories??
GIANT SETTER: YES!!! COOL STORIES!!!!! COOL GAY STORIES!!!!!
sou cool: WOAH
yamayamaguchi: Koganegawa, I like your idea, but … that might be a little complicated?
yamayamaguchi: Just be really nice and supportive
yamayamaguchi: Let him know that youll be there to talk to?
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: But I cant be supportive if this is puts his productivity during practice in danger
turnip head: tell him to keep his dick off the court
turnip head: also can someone please change my display name back to kindaichi
turnip head: this is getting ridiculous
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: But I don’t think his dick is detachable?
GOSHIKI TSUTOMU: Wait, are most people’s dicks detachable?
sou cool: hes messing w u dude
sou cool: but yeah. keep romantic tension off the court
yamayamaguchi: You don’t think that’s an unreasonable request?
GIANT SETTER: OOOOOOOOOOO
GIANT SETTER: YAMAGUCHIS THIRSTIER THAN HE LETS ON!!!!
yamayamaguchi: I’m just being realistic
yamayamaguchi: Chill
GIANT SETTER: NEVER!!!!!!!!
GIANT SETTER: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
turnip head: yamaguchi is there something youre not telling us
GIANT SETTER: YAMAGUCHI DO U HAVE A GIRLFRIEND
GIANT SETTER: OR A BOYFRIEND
GIANT SETTER: OR SOME OTHER KIND OF ROMANTIC PERSON
GIANT SETTER: ?????????????????
yamayamaguchi: Why would I tell you if I did
sou cool: that means u do
yamayamaguchi: Inuoka! I thought you were on my side!
sou cool: look ive been around enough romance to know when its happening
sou cool: and ESPECIALLY to know when its trying and failing to hide
turnip head: shibayama and leg at it again huh?
sou cool: I FOUND THEM MAKING OUT BEHIND THE GYM TODAY
sou cool: BEHIND THE GYM WHERE WE ALL HANG OUT DURING LUNCH
sou cool: I MAY NEVER EAT LUNCH AGAIN
GIANT SETTER: BUT LUNCH IS SO GOOD!!!!!
sou cool: I KNOW
sou cool: THIS IS THE BIGGEST TRAGEDY OF MY LIFE
sou cool: HOW DO THEY EVEN MUSTER UP THE ENERGY TO DO IT SO OFTEN
sou cool: IT HAS TO TAKE SERIOUS PHYSICAL EFFORT TO MAKE OUT WHEN YOURE 32 CENTIMETERS APART
sou cool: AND YET
turnip head: oh come on
turnip head: it cant be that bad
turnip head: until u catch them in the middle of competitive dick sucking its generally bearable
yamayamaguchi: Kindaichi what the fuck
turnip head: ive seen some shit
GIANT SETTER: WHAT KINDS OF SHIT
yamayamaguchi: We really dont need to know
GIANT SETTER: WHAT IF WE WANT TO KNOW
yamayamaguchi: You can talk about it in private chat
yamayamaguchi: Or Ill remove you from this one
sou cool: holy SHIT
sou cool: DUDE U ANGERED THE BEAST
yamayamaguchi: :)
turnip head: koganegawa ill pm u
GIANT SETTER: LOOKIN FORWARD TO IT
yamayamaguchi: oh god speaking of beasts
yamayamaguchi: i have to tell you what this first year of ours with a crush on tsukishima did the other day at morning practice
Tsutomu shuts his laptop with a sigh. At this point, they’ll never go back to talking about his question. He has to search for answers elsewhere.
Tsutomu swivels from side to side in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. The crack in the back right corner shaped like a dragon isn’t particularly helpful, nor is the crack in the back left corner shaped like a fish with indigestion. The problem, he thinks, is that he keeps asking groups of people. Groups of people who just start debating among themselves without ever answering him. He needs to ask one person, individually. One trustworthy person. One compassionate person. One smart person.
And then, Tsutomu startles so suddenly he nearly falls out of his chair. The solution is obvious - he can’t believe he didn’t think of it before.
He grabs his phone off his desk, then pushes off it with his feet to send his chair spinning as he dials.
“Hey, Goshiki-kun!” Yachi exclaims. “What’s up?”
“I need some advice,” Tsutomu says.
“Yeah?” There’s a faint rustling noise, and then, “Sorry, I had to put my book down.”
“Oh, are you in the middle of something? I can call back later –”
“It’s just some reading for class, it’s fine,” Yachi reassures him. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I have this kouhai,” Tsutomu says. “Taniguchi. Only first-year on the team this year. He’s been really distracted recently, and Sagae and I think it’s because he’s having a … oh, God, what was the phrase he used?”
“A gay crisis?” Yachi suggests.
“Yeah. That. He’s having a gay crisis, and I want to talk to him about it, but I don’t know what to say.”
“And it reminds you of when you were a first-year and had a gay crisis yourself?”
“Yeah, that’s … exactly it,” Tsutomu admits. “Yacchan, how are you so smart?”
“Lots of practice dealing with idiots,” she replies. He laughs a little, at that – picturing the Karasuno third-years’ faces at being called idiots.
“So, let me get this straight,” Yachi goes on. “Or – not straight. You know what I mean. You want to talk to Taniguchi about his sexuality, but you aren’t sure how to bring it up without making it sound as though you’re making assumptions about him or embarrassing him further?”
Yachi has always been great at explaining things, but this is just next-level. She really is incredible. Tsutomu nods, then remembers she can’t actually see him, and says, “Yeah. And I want to make it clear that he shouldn’t get distracted during practice. But without scaring him? I don’t know.” He sticks his legs straight out in front of him and waves them around helplessly. It does little for his panicked state of mind. “It seems like this should be so simple, but I keep thinking about it and thinking about it and I just don’t know what to do!”
“Goshiki, stop panicking,” Yachi says sternly, as though she’s telling Shouyou to stop falling asleep and do his homework. “You’re definitely overthinking this. But,” she adds, more gently, “the fact that you’re thinking about it so much means that you care a lot about Taniguchi. And that’s what makes you a good senpai.”
Tsutomu will later swear that, at this point in the conversation, his hair stands straight up on top of his head. “You … You think I’m a good senpai?”
Yachi giggles at that, her voice as lovely as tinkling bells. “Of course I do. And I’m sure Taniguchi does, too. Why else would he have a crush on you?”
“Wait … Taniguchi has a crush on me?”
“I thought that was how you figured out he was gay? Because he was acting nervous and distracted around you?”
Tsutomu cannot express his emotions with mere swiveling any more. He stands up and starts jumping around his room, phone shaking with static. “I! Thought! He! Just! Liked! The! Other! Upperclassmen!”
“And not you?” Yachi replies. “Doubtful.”
Stars light up around Tsutomu’s room. No, not just stars – constellations. Entire galaxies of twinkling lights, applauding him for being the greatest, handsomest, most crush-worthy senpai on the face of the earth. He’s grinning so widely, he thinks his face might break open.
“Goshiki?” someone is saying. “Goshiki? Go-shiki?”
Yachi, he realizes. That’s Yachi. He’s on the phone with Yachi.
“Yeah?” he asks, picking up the phone from where it tumbled onto the carpet. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, I’m glad you’re excited,” she says. “But don’t let this go to your head.”
“I won’t,” Tsutomu promises. He pushes away visions of him on a grand stage, accepting an award for greatest senpai ever in front of a cheering crowd.
“And you still need to talk to Taniguchi,” Yachi reminds him.
Oh. Right. Talking. Conversation. Tsutomu sits back down in his chair with a heavy plop.
“What do I say to him?” he asks. “Please, Yacchan. Help me not overthink this.”
“Well, I …” Yachi hesitates – Tsutomu leans forward, hanging on her every word even from kilometers away. “I’m not sure I’m the right person to talk to you about this.”
“What?” Tsutomu squawks. “But after everything you said –”
“I know, I know! But listen.”
Tsutomu listens.
“When I was a first-year, I had a crush on Kiyoko – Karasuno’s third-year manager at the time. I kinda ended up … accidentally confessing to her. And she turned me down, of course. But she also had this really great conversation with me, when she talked about her sexuality and helped me figure out my sexuality and told me where I could find more information and all of this great stuff … I feel like I gained a lot of confidence, after that.”
“You had a conversation with your senpai, too,” Tsutomu marvels. He’d always pictured Yachi the way he now knows her – infinitely kind and infinitely wise, giving incredible advice since she was old enough to talk, but now he realizes that, maybe, she wasn’t always this person. Maybe she used to be scared and nervous and trying to impress everyone all the time, just like him.
“Yeah, I did,” Yachi goes on. “And if I was in your shoes now, I would ask her what to say. Because she did such a good job helping me, you know?”
“So, do you think I should call her?” Tsutomu asks.
“No – I think you should call one of your senpai.”
And that sentence – that one, simple sentence – makes Tsutomu jump up out of his chair and holler as though he’s just won Nationals.
All this time, he was asking his peers for advice – Sagae, Shouyou, the other captains – when he should’ve been asking his senpai! People who have done what he’s doing! People who knew him when he was as awkward as Taniguchi is now! People who helped him become the greatest senpai in the world!
“Thank you, Yachi!” he shouts into the phone. “You’re a genius, Yachi! I love you, Yachi!”
“I love you, too,” Yachi says, laughing. Tsutomu can picture her smiling on the other end of the line – a smile so bright it could put the sun to shame. He makes a mental note to give her a really big hug the next time he sees her.
The next person Tsutomu calls is someone intimately – perhaps, now that he thinks about it, uncomfortably – familiar with his first-year self.
“Hey, Shirabu!” he exclaims, spinning in his chair with his feet pointed at the ceiling. “How’ve you been!”
“Trying to study for my calc midterm,” the former captain hisses back. “It was going pretty well, until you had to interrupt me.”
“That’s great!” It’s been a while since Tsutomu talked to his old setter – he misses having that source of perpetual rage around. “So, I have a question about dealing with kouhai –”
“I just said, I’m trying to study,” Shirabu repeats, his tone of voice one Tsutomu remembers fondly from long, boring (for him), annoying (for Shirabu) bus rides.
“And you can’t spare a minute to talk to me?” Tsutomu asks, pouting. “Not even to give me advice that will help make the team stronger?”
“No. I can’t.”
There’s a moment of silence, in which Tsutomu tries to channel all of his disappointed and hurt feelings through the phone - blackmailing the setter into showing his poorly-hidden compassionate side is, at this point, an acquired skill.
He must be at least partially successful, because Shirabu then says, “Look, I really have to study, okay? Why don’t you call Oohira – he was always better at that giving advice stuff.”
“Oohira! Of course!” Tsutomu’s legs return to the control of gravity as he sits up in his chair. “I’ll ask him! Thank you!”
He reaches to hang up the phone – but before his finger quite reaches the button, Shirabu says, quiet and urgent as though he’s explaining a new play in the middle of the game, “Wait. How is the team doing?”
Tsutomu grins and leans back.
“The new first-years are adjusting well,” he says. “They’re getting the hang of our regimen already, and only three dropped out after the training camp. And Sagae’s really good at leading drills, better than I am.”
“What about the second-years? How’s Shouta doing as main setter?”
“He was a bit nervous at first, but I think he’s come into his own, especially with quicks …”
They end up talking about their team for the next two hours.
8:23 P.M.
me: Hey, can I call you to ask for advice on something?
OOHIRA-SENPAI: Sure!
OOHIRA-SENPAI: But not tonight – I’m pretty busy.
OOHIRA-SENPAI: Maybe tomorrow?
me: I can do tomorrow!!!!!!
OOHIRA-SENPAI: How about 18:00?
me: Sure!!!!!!!
OOHIRA-SENPAI: Great!
me: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The next day, all Tsutomu can think about is his call with Oohira.
He wonders what he’s going to say, and how he’s going to say it, and what the answers might be, and whether or not he’ll feel like an idiot later. In general, Tsutomu thinks he’s a lot more confident and mature than he used to be (he is, after all, an incredible captain, the formidable ace of a powerhouse school, and the best senpai in the world), but the prospect of talking to one of his former senpai is reducing him to a jittery mess. He nearly misses a cross spike during afternoon practice, caught up in wondering if Oohira’s voice has gotten any deeper since the last time they talked.
The thing is – Tsutomu knows that Oohira would never intentionally want to make him feel embarrassed or stupid. He’s like the human incarnation of a teddy bear, except stronger and with more capacity to terrify anyone who gets on his bad side. But he’s someone that Tsutomu spent much of his first year trying to impress, someone whose approval could make or break his entire week, and that mindset is hard to shake.
Which is why, when Oohira calls at exactly 6:01 P.M. that evening, Tsutomu’s hands are shaking so badly he nearly drops his phone out his bedroom window.
“Um, hi,” he says. Then, trying to make his voice sound deeper, “Hello.”
“Goshiki,” Oohira says.
“Hi, Oohira-senpai!” Shit, you already said hi. Say something else. “Um … how are you?”
“I’m great,” Oohira replies. “Just turned in a paper on federal income tax law during the economic boom of the fifties. And how are you? How’s the team?”
“Good! Great! Amazing! Incredible! Working hard! Better every day!” Tsutomu thinks that may have been too many adjectives all at once, but his traitorous mouth doesn’t seem to care.
Oohira chuckles. “I’m glad to hear it. So, what did you want to ask me about?”
“Oh. Ah.” Tsutomu must’ve rehearsed asking this question a thousand times over in his head this morning, but it still feels like jumping off the high dive when he says, “I think one of my kouhai is having a gay crisis, and I want to talk to him about it but I’m not sure how.”
For a moment, there is silence on the other end of the line, and Tsutomu is terrified – irrationally, he knows, but terrified nonetheless – with worry that Oohira will burst into laughter, or make fun of him for being unable to solve this problem on his own, or tell him he’s a bad senpai, or –
“Well, talking to him is certainly a good idea,” Oohira finally says. “But have you tried asking him?”
“Asking him what?” Tsutomu repeats.
“If he’s gay.”
Tsutomu feels like there’s something he isn’t getting here. As though with one step back, he’d be able to see the whole court – but he doesn’t know to take it.
“But, when you talked to me my first-year, you didn’t ask me that,” he says slowly.
“Yes, because I knew,” Oohira explains. “Because I’d talked to Shirabu, who had talked to you. But in your case – correct me if I’m wrong – you’re just going off of observations and guesswork.”
“Yes, but –”
“Yes, but – nothing. You can’t just make observations based off of behavior you see. The kid could be gay. He could also be bisexual. Pansexual. Asexual. Transgender. Nonbinary. He could have any number of identities with any number of emotions that you could never hope to understand without asking about them. You have to let him talk first, and then, once you’ve listened, you can offer advice, resources, whatever. But you have to let him talk first.”
Tsutomu drops onto his bed, staring at the volleyball poster on the opposite wall as though it holds the secrets of the universe. “I have to let him talk first,” he echoes.
“Yes,” Oohira says. “Goshiki, have I ever told you about my first year?”
Tsutomu shakes his head, then remembers Oohira can’t see him – he really is bad at phone conversations – and says, “No.”
“Well.” Tsutomu sits up a little straighter, listening. “My first year, I realized I wasn’t straight. The same way you did, I think – by noticing my senpai. By seeing how incredible they looked on the court and experiencing feelings I thought I was only supposed to experience around girls. But I didn’t talk to anyone about it – at least, not at first – and none of my senpai noticed and talked to me about it. I kept all of these feelings bottled up inside me. But then, about halfway through that year, as Satori and I were watching a practice match, he turned to me and said - I still remember exactly what he said - he said, Man, don’t you just want to grab Ushijima and lick the sweat off his face sometimes? Just to find out what it tastes like? And I said, no, not really, but I do … kinda understand how you feel.
“And then, we started talking. And we talked to Wakatoshi, and Eita, and Hayato. And all of us asked each other the questions we were scared to ask ourselves, and tried to figure out the feelings we thought were wrong, and listened to each other, and – and we got through it. Through the nervousness and confusion. We got through it by asking and listening. Eventually, we did research, we read, we found definitions – but the talking was the important part. That’s what I tried to do for you, and that’s what you should try to do for your kouhai.”
“You did that, for me, you did,” Tsutomu says, all in a rush. “You gave me answers and you helped me and you … That conversation we had in the locker room wasn’t very long, but it changed my life. You changed my life.”
“Yeah?” Oohira asks. It’s funny – in that one question, that one word, he sounds more nervous than Tsutomu has ever heard him sound on the court.
“Yeah,” he replies.
“Then you know what you’re going to say to your kouhai tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I – I know what I’m going to ask him.”
“Good.” Tsutomu might be imagining it, but – he thinks he can hear a note of pride in that word. Enough that he wants to leap off his bed and shout. (He doesn’t, but it’s a close thing.)
“So, tell me about this team you’re leading,” Oohira says.
And Tsutomu does.
By the end of their conversation, Tsutomu has told his former senpai all of his deepest hopes, dreams, and fears – including many that he hadn’t been aware of himself before today. It’s almost ten o’clock when Oohira finally signs off, saying that he has some reading he really should get started on.
“But we should talk like this more often,” he tells Tsutomu – who narrowly avoids letting out a shriek at the sentiment. “I like hearing from you. And you better take care of that team of yours – if Wakatoshi, Satori, Hayato, Eita, and I are going all the way back to Miyagi for the spring tournament, you guys have to win it for us.”
This time, Tsutomu really does shriek. “Wait – you’re coming?!”
Oohira’s laughter permeates through the phone, rich and warm as fresh chocolate cake. “Of course we are. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Tsutomu thinks that somewhere on the street outside, a siren is ringing – until he realizes that that’s actually him, screaming quietly.
“We’re counting on you, Tsutomu,” Oohira says.
He hangs up, leaving Tsutomu feeling as though he’s been launched into outer space.
We’re counting on you, he repeats to himself – and then he grabs a pillow, stuffs his face into it, and yells for dear life.
“Taniguchi,” Tsutomu says.
The first-year in question spins around – the broom he was putting away clatters to the floor.
“Oh – sorry, sorry!” Tsutomu apologizes, waving his hands frantically to convey the depth of his apology. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s - it’s fine,” Taniguchi replies. He picks up the broom, puts it away correctly, then turns to face his captain. “Do you need me for something?”
“No – I mean, yes – I mean. I want to talk to you.”
The storage closet at the back of the gym is dusty, cluttered, all peeling paint and boxes with illegible labels. It’s far too full of broken cleaning supplies and old uniforms, and Tsutomu keeps meaning to come in on a Sunday and clean it out, but – he likes this room as it is, full of old supplies and old uniforms and old memories.
He sits down on the floor in the center of the room and invites Taniguchi to take a seat next to him. They’re sitting only a few centimeters away from each other, knees nearly knocking. Tsutomu sees – or maybe imagines he sees – the faintest hint of red on his kouhai’s face.
Tsutomu remembers that, when he had this conversation with Oohira, he thought that he was either about to learn the secrets of life or about to be thrown out of the school forever. He wonders if Taniguchi feels the same way.
And then, he takes a deep breath and asks:
“Taniguchi, do you know what being gay means?”
5:18 P.M.
OOHIRA-SENPAI: So how did it go?
me: Pretty well I think!!!!
me: I asked questions!! Explained to keep relationships and volleyball separate!!! Gave him resources!!!!
me: Shouyou showed up partway through for a surprise visit though
me: That kinda made it awkward
me: And he already knew what gay meant
me: That also kinda made it awkward
OOHIRA-SENPAI: Kids these days. With their internet and their smartphones. Googling everything.
me: Senpai … aren’t you only four years older than Taniguchi?
OOHIRA-SENPAI: I was joking
OOHIRA-SENPAI: But I’m glad it went well!! I’m sure you did great. :)
8:03 P.M.
SHOUYOU ♥♥♥♥♥♥: TSUTOMU!!!! IT WAS GREAT SEEING U TODAY!!!!!
SHOUYOU ♥♥♥♥♥♥: IM SORRY I INTERRUPTED UR MEETING W UR KOUHAI THO D: D: D:
me: thats okay!!!!!! I think ur being there helped actually
SHOUYOU ♥♥♥♥♥♥: wait really??
me: yeah!
me: bc once he saw that we could date n still be rivals
me: he realized that u can keep volleyball separate from dating stuff
me: i think
SHOUYOU ♥♥♥♥♥♥: OHH!!!!!
SHOUYOU ♥♥♥♥♥♥: WELL IM GLAD I COULD HELP
me: yeah!!!!
me: and i was really glad to see u too!!!!!!!!!
me: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
SHOUYOU ♥♥♥♥♥♥: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
9:24 P.M.
SHOUYOU ♥♥♥♥♥♥: but ur sure it was okay??
SHOUYOU ♥♥♥♥♥♥: that i interrupted, i mean
me: yeah, it was good! really!!!
SHOUYOU ♥♥♥♥♥♥: okay ♥
me: ♥
10:35 P.M.
OOHIRA-SENPAI: I meant what I said earlier, by the way
OOHIRA-SENPAI: About us talking more often
me: YES!!!!!
me: I WOULD LOVE THAT!!!!!
me: and … I really did help him
me: (I think)
OOHIRA-SENPAI: You did. I’m sure you did.
11:52 P.M.
TANIGUCHI: Goshiki-senpai?
me: yes?????????????????
TANIGUCHI: Thank you.