Ship: kanzaki miki / miyahara Fandom: yowapeda Major tags: none Other tags: they all ride bikes Word count: 477
takes the "won't tell you my name" option over the angst option (finger guns)
***
They meet for the first time in the green hills that wind around Hakone.
Sohoku always did have a tradition of clever and cunning captains. Miyahara knew this because it was one of the many things the third year manager had impressed on her in her first year, as she followed in the path that Manami inevitably sets out for her, and then had it underlined to her again by the cycling club's captain. She files this away for later, the same way she files everything else -- with meticulous consideration, with an eye toward the goal.
Miyahara learns to fly. Miyahara learns that maybe she was not quite the fastest in the world after all, but somewhere in the paths that carve through the mountain, she learns how to set aside her careful notes, her careful life, and feel the way the sun can warm all of your face when you tilt your head to the bright summer sky.
Miyahara learns to let go and her twin pigtails flutter behind her like proud pennants in her tail wind.
"You're from around here, aren't you."
Miyahara is sitting in the grass by the road drinking a Pocari Sweat and looks up at the girl walking toward her. The girl's smile is radiant, her nondescript jersey bright yellow, and her Bianchi that beautiful mint green that looks like it could belong somewhere between these light green hills and the wide expanse of the bright blue sky. Miyahara knows every cyclist in the racing club. She would remember a smile like that. Bright and sharp. She would have raced it to the end where the horizon curves into the earth.
"I'm so sorry, but I seem to have jammed my bike chain. Do you happen to have a repair kit on you?"
Miyahara nods politely. The yellow of the jersey is like a beacon. "Of course. Let me help you with that." She represents her club after all.
As Miyahara helps the girl with her bike she notices how well tuned it is for racing, a machine that is so achingly cared for Miyahara can almost see the trajectory of the build from carbon frame to derailleur gears to the millimetre precision of the seat height. This girl either had a tremendous amount of sponsorship or she was--
"You must like slopes a lot to have come so far," Miyahara says. She's always so polite.
"I had heard that the mountain was unbeatable around here," the girl smiles back. "But I'm not so sure about that anymore. What name should I look for." The girl was the one being polite now. She must have known. Miyahara's name was a roster fixture.
"I’m just a simple class president," Miyahara replies. The light glints against her glasses. "I look forward to seeing you again in two weeks at the Interhigh, Captain Kanzaki.”
FILL: TEAM KAGEYAMA TOBIO/OIKAWA TOORU, G
Fandom: yowapeda
Major tags: none
Other tags: they all ride bikes
Word count: 477
takes the "won't tell you my name" option over the angst option (finger guns)
***
They meet for the first time in the green hills that wind around Hakone.
Sohoku always did have a tradition of clever and cunning captains. Miyahara knew this because it was one of the many things the third year manager had impressed on her in her first year, as she followed in the path that Manami inevitably sets out for her, and then had it underlined to her again by the cycling club's captain. She files this away for later, the same way she files everything else -- with meticulous consideration, with an eye toward the goal.
Miyahara learns to fly. Miyahara learns that maybe she was not quite the fastest in the world after all, but somewhere in the paths that carve through the mountain, she learns how to set aside her careful notes, her careful life, and feel the way the sun can warm all of your face when you tilt your head to the bright summer sky.
Miyahara learns to let go and her twin pigtails flutter behind her like proud pennants in her tail wind.
"You're from around here, aren't you."
Miyahara is sitting in the grass by the road drinking a Pocari Sweat and looks up at the girl walking toward her. The girl's smile is radiant, her nondescript jersey bright yellow, and her Bianchi that beautiful mint green that looks like it could belong somewhere between these light green hills and the wide expanse of the bright blue sky. Miyahara knows every cyclist in the racing club. She would remember a smile like that. Bright and sharp. She would have raced it to the end where the horizon curves into the earth.
"I'm so sorry, but I seem to have jammed my bike chain. Do you happen to have a repair kit on you?"
Miyahara nods politely. The yellow of the jersey is like a beacon. "Of course. Let me help you with that." She represents her club after all.
As Miyahara helps the girl with her bike she notices how well tuned it is for racing, a machine that is so achingly cared for Miyahara can almost see the trajectory of the build from carbon frame to derailleur gears to the millimetre precision of the seat height. This girl either had a tremendous amount of sponsorship or she was--
"You must like slopes a lot to have come so far," Miyahara says. She's always so polite.
"I had heard that the mountain was unbeatable around here," the girl smiles back. "But I'm not so sure about that anymore. What name should I look for." The girl was the one being polite now. She must have known. Miyahara's name was a roster fixture.
"I’m just a simple class president," Miyahara replies. The light glints against her glasses. "I look forward to seeing you again in two weeks at the Interhigh, Captain Kanzaki.”