Chapter Text
When Ushijima Wakatoshi officially graduated High School, Sakusa Kiyoomi was left pretty empty. In his mind, there was no other player in the High School Division that got his attention like he did. He played against lots of good schools, sure, but nothing could beat the feeling of pure ecstacy when watching him play. Or playing against him. It was his drug.
He kept quiet about this adoration. Was it necessary to share? No, not in Kiyoomi's opinion. He liked to keep things private, and I suppose it’s why people didn’t approach him alot. Motoya once called him an ‘’einzelgänger’’ as a joke, and well, Kiyoomi didn’t mind it that much. He liked the peace and quiet. It also helped that, with only a select few people around, his mysophobia didn’t get triggered that much.
He learned to interact with his teammates at Itachiyama. He had the occasional group project in class as well, and didn't forget any necessary interactions at tournaments. He all got through it.
One thing he managed to avoid was parties.
Parties. Any introverts wet dream. The kind of wet dream where you end up pissing your pants.
‘’Come on, Kiyoomi! It’s the beginning of the year!’’
Oh yeah, that’s right. He started college. Him and Motoya both started at the same college, which surprise surprise, a lot of his old acquaintances also did. The University of Tokyo had a killer volleyball team, and while he does plan to make a career out of it, if he falls back, he doesn't want to be career-less.
So, he’s a psych major now. Motoya, who's a physics major, are roommates, aka no new people. So at least that's nice. In Kiyoomi's opinion. “Just one, Kiyoomi! I wanna meet some new people, and you know some of these people already!’’ He tried to argue, and Kiyoomi just glared at him. ‘’You can just go alone.. Why do I have to go with?”
“I don't wanna be alone.” Motoya pouted, dramatically laying down on their shared couch, giving the black-haired man puppy dog eyes. Ofcourse, Kiyoomi's glare slightly lessened, which caused him to sigh. He thought over his options. He could go with Motoya and get him off his back with that, atleast. But he, really, did not like parties. It had been awhile since he drank, though. “If I go this one time, you won't bother me after this?”
Motoya grinned. ‘’Yes! You’re the best, Kiyo!’’ He laughed, and Kiyoomi just grumbled something about not even agreeing in the first place, but he just shrugged it off after seeing his smile.
And so, a few hours later, they arrived at the party. It was hosted by one of the college seniors, whom, said by Motoya, had the best parties. Kiyoomi did not care. It was held in a way too small college dorm, which was overfilled with college students. He grimaced as he and Motoya moved through the crowd. The music was hard on his ears, the current decade’s party songs playing on a big boom box against a wall, which also acted as a side table for drinks and bags of chips. He strutted behind Motoya, following the shorter boy like a lost puppy, which, at parties, he usually was. He held back a gag as someone accidentally bumped against his shoulder, not even hearing the sorry which came out of their mouth. He ignored it and quickly followed Motoya, who already headed on through the crowd.
They ended up close to the kitchen, Kiyoomi looking around tiredly. ‘’Oh, look! Zuna-kun! Kiyo, it’s Zuna!’’ Motoya grinned, and Kiyoomi glanced in the direction he waved.
Tsukasa was in the kitchen, surrounded by people. He recognized some of the people who surrounded him. Kuroo, he remembered him from Nekoma, accompanied by Kozume. He could recognize that mop of untamed black hair anywhere. Even in High School, those two seemed to be like two peas in a pod. Seems they’re still at each other's side. He almost found it endearing. Almost.
Leaning on the counter next to the fridge stood Yamamoto, and Yaku next to him, both also from Nekoma. Yaku was in a conversation with Tsukasa, while Yamamoto and Kuroo were seemingly annoying the smaller blond. Motoya moved closer, and instead of following, he paused. He looked around at the party behind him, sighed, and followed Motoya. Better to stick to him, I suppose.
Motoya was already exchanging hugs and chatting with Tsukasa and Yaku as he fell in steps behind him, his cousin being his usual social butterfly self. Kiyoomi sighed, quietly taking place behind him.
‘’Sakusa! You’re here too?’’ Tsukasa looked surprised to see him, and he was definitely not the only one. He, himself, was surprised too. Kiyoomi nodded, letting out a small sigh. ‘’Yes.’’ He simply answered, not able to hear himself over the music. At least Tsukasa understood, who was clearly happy to see him.It did make him smile a little. ‘’It’s good to see you, Tsukasa-san.’’ He added, which made him laugh.
‘’I don't remember you being such a sap! I told you before, Iizuna is fine.’’ Tsukasa laughed. He went to go for a hug, but paused, like he was remembering something. “Ah, Kiyoomi, do you remember Yaku, from Nekoma?” Kiyoomi glanced at the previous Nekoma setter next to him, and nodded. “Yeah, hi.” He greeted the sandy haired man. He nodded with a smile in return.
Chatting with the Nekoma boys was.. nice. It wasn't like Kiyoomi talked a lot; he observed them mostly, but that's how he preferred it anyway. After a moment of quiet listening, he noticed some of the previous Fukurodani boys come in as well.
“Motoya-” Kiyoomi started, the room becoming a bit too small for him. “Hm?” He answered, glancing at Kiyoomi. “You alright?” Kiyoomi nodded, just pointing a finger at the slide-door. The door led to a balcony, which was usually reserved for the smokers, but, currently, empty.
Without words, Motoya understood and gave him a smile. “Text me if you need me, okay?” He said, and Kiyoomi nodded before taking strive towards fresh air.
Opening the slide door, he stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind him. He breathed out a breath he had been holding, allowing himself to lean his arms against the railings. He closed his eyes, his curls softly flowing alongside the wind as he sighed out.
The semester just started, and while the pressure regarding school was still relatively low, he couldn’t help but feel the societal pressure of the need to be, well, social. College was supposed to be that experience, where you meet new people, live life and let loose. Where you drink cheap beers with drunken and overworked students just like him, at overcrowded house parties, just like this one where he was at.
Yet, it was difficult to experience it, when he didn’t want to. Well, suppose he didn't have a choice.