Ship: Yaku Morisuke & Nishinoya Yuu Fandom: Haikyuu!! Major Tags: None Other Tags: mild angst Square: 'ephemeral - transitory or lasting for a very short time' Word Count: 588
This was fun and also kinda sad to write!! More to come soon :D
***
High school passed slowly and yet all at once for Yaku Morisuke. As a small, inexperienced first year, three years seemed like such a long time; at that point, only barely 15 years old, three years could practically be an eternity.
The time passed slowly until that day he joined the volleyball club. Meeting Kuroo, while vexing at first, brought some comfort to life at a new school, and the rest of the team helped make time pass that much easier. Before he knew it, Yaku was watching their senpai graduate alongside Kuroo, bitterly regretting the failures of the past and yet still looking forward, ever forward to the next practice, the next match, their next win.
(And if he shed some tears for his seniors amongst the falling petals of the sakura trees, then that was his business, and his alone.)
Second year had arrived in the blink of a moment, and Yaku soon found himself in the midst of yet another year doing their best to climb the heights of the Interhigh. He endured his senpai’s insistence on hierarchy as best he could, deflecting their pedantic notions from his kouhai as much as possible. He watched as Kenma struggled and bloomed as a setter and strategist, and thought maybe this is it.
They clawed and fought their way through the preliminaries, only to fall short of the pinnacle, falling to their opponents in the quarterfinals.
The tears that fell that evening were bitter, but lighter for the knowledge that next year would be their best chance yet; with Kuroo as captain and Kenma as strategist and setter, and Yaku protecting them as libero, they were sure to reach that powerful apex, the peak of their strength. Without the dead weight of their senpai to drag them down, Yaku finally had hope for his third year.
Yaku’s third year arrived in a whirlwind of new faces and new skills in the volleyball club; Inuoka’s energy and Shibayama’s enthusiasm brought the fire burning in his chest to a steadily hotter temperature.
The first practice match against Karasuno lit a fire in Yaku’s eyes that hadn’t been there before; the presence of a libero as skilled as Nishinoya brought out the competitive side in him.
The practice matches passed in a blur, only allowing for impressions and movement to stick in Yaku’s brain. By the end of the evening, his muscles were wrung out from practice, and Nishinoya’s approach startled him.
Yaku left the practice match feeling much more confident in their fighting chances; with a rival like Karasuno, and especially with a rival like Nishinoya, a libero who always sought to keep moving forward, Nekoma couldn’t possibly lose until they finally faced off across an official court.
Time flew by, broken notably only by the arrival of and subsequent attempts at training one Haiba Lev. Still time passed in a haze of anticipation.
Finally, the moment came, and Yaku stepped foot onto the first court of his last Spring High in high school. That ephemeral moment just before the whistle blew stretched and shone, and Yaku took a breath.
Whatever happened in the next few months, whatever wins and losses Nekoma weathered, he was sure he wouldn’t regret any of the too-short time spent at Nekoma, or with the volleyball club.
He definitely wouldn’t regret getting to know one Nishinoya Yuu, either; hopefully their friendship would be stronger than their short acquaintance suggested.
Yaku couldn’t wait to find out what his future held after these scant three years.
FILL: Team Nishinoya Yuu/Yaku Morisuke, A1, E
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: mild angst
Square: 'ephemeral - transitory or lasting for a very short time'
Word Count: 588
This was fun and also kinda sad to write!! More to come soon :D
***
High school passed slowly and yet all at once for Yaku Morisuke. As a small, inexperienced first year, three years seemed like such a long time; at that point, only barely 15 years old, three years could practically be an eternity.
The time passed slowly until that day he joined the volleyball club. Meeting Kuroo, while vexing at first, brought some comfort to life at a new school, and the rest of the team helped make time pass that much easier. Before he knew it, Yaku was watching their senpai graduate alongside Kuroo, bitterly regretting the failures of the past and yet still looking forward, ever forward to the next practice, the next match, their next win.
(And if he shed some tears for his seniors amongst the falling petals of the sakura trees, then that was his business, and his alone.)
Second year had arrived in the blink of a moment, and Yaku soon found himself in the midst of yet another year doing their best to climb the heights of the Interhigh. He endured his senpai’s insistence on hierarchy as best he could, deflecting their pedantic notions from his kouhai as much as possible. He watched as Kenma struggled and bloomed as a setter and strategist, and thought maybe this is it.
They clawed and fought their way through the preliminaries, only to fall short of the pinnacle, falling to their opponents in the quarterfinals.
The tears that fell that evening were bitter, but lighter for the knowledge that next year would be their best chance yet; with Kuroo as captain and Kenma as strategist and setter, and Yaku protecting them as libero, they were sure to reach that powerful apex, the peak of their strength. Without the dead weight of their senpai to drag them down, Yaku finally had hope for his third year.
Yaku’s third year arrived in a whirlwind of new faces and new skills in the volleyball club; Inuoka’s energy and Shibayama’s enthusiasm brought the fire burning in his chest to a steadily hotter temperature.
The first practice match against Karasuno lit a fire in Yaku’s eyes that hadn’t been there before; the presence of a libero as skilled as Nishinoya brought out the competitive side in him.
The practice matches passed in a blur, only allowing for impressions and movement to stick in Yaku’s brain. By the end of the evening, his muscles were wrung out from practice, and Nishinoya’s approach startled him.
Yaku left the practice match feeling much more confident in their fighting chances; with a rival like Karasuno, and especially with a rival like Nishinoya, a libero who always sought to keep moving forward, Nekoma couldn’t possibly lose until they finally faced off across an official court.
Time flew by, broken notably only by the arrival of and subsequent attempts at training one Haiba Lev. Still time passed in a haze of anticipation.
Finally, the moment came, and Yaku stepped foot onto the first court of his last Spring High in high school. That ephemeral moment just before the whistle blew stretched and shone, and Yaku took a breath.
Whatever happened in the next few months, whatever wins and losses Nekoma weathered, he was sure he wouldn’t regret any of the too-short time spent at Nekoma, or with the volleyball club.
He definitely wouldn’t regret getting to know one Nishinoya Yuu, either; hopefully their friendship would be stronger than their short acquaintance suggested.
Yaku couldn’t wait to find out what his future held after these scant three years.