Apple Trees

Part Four

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Two weeks after Asahi rejoined the team
Asahi's POV

"A - Asahi."

I pause, turning around with a furrowed brow. Nishinoya doesn't stutter when he speaks, unlike me, so why is he now? The thought makes me nervous, so I tighten my grip on my backpack strap and look down at him, worriedly.

"Nishinoya?"

He looks down at his feet, standing there on the sidewalk. We'd taken to walking home together a couple days a week, since we live in the same neighborhood. He usually walks with Tanaka to the latter's house, so it had been a surprise when he'd asked, one day.

Now, with his jacket and stuffed into his backpack and his button-up hanging halfway open, I gulp. I can't tell if it's my usual nervousness or something else. Either way, I force myself to ignore it and instead repeat myself, speaking softly.

"Nishinoya? Are you - are you okay?"

He finally looks up, and I see that he does not appear to be sad, or really upset in any way. His cheeks are pink and his ears are burning red, though it isn't cold out tonight. Is he... blushing? I rub the back of my neck, fingering the hair that'd fallen loose from my bun.

"Asahi--" Nishinoya clears his throat, somewhat nervously. "Asahi, I was just... I've been wondering this for a long time, and I completely understand if you don't want to. I don't want this to ruin our friendship and how we play on the court, but I can't hold it in any longer."

My face is suddenly hot with heat, and my stomach clenches in anticipation. What is he... saying? The trees around us sway in the breeze, filling the air with rustling and crickets singing. The sky is a rich red and purple gradient turning slowly darker.

I gesture for him to continue.

"I was wondering, Asahi... do you want to go--" he clears his throat again. "--go steal a traffic cone with me?"

I choke. The absurdity of his question, and the sheer surprise I felt hearing it, sends me into a fit of laughter. One arm held in front of my turned away face to mask my embarrassed and shock, I'm unable to stifle it. Nishinoya lets out a noise of surprise as I double over, hands on my knees, my laughter still not subsiding.

When I finally calm down, face pink and sore, I look up at him. His raised eyebrows and self-satisfied, crooked grin tell me that, yes, he did that on purpose. I straighten, shaking my head with an exasperated smile.

"S - steal a traffic cone?"

"Well, it was either that or 'will you go out with me', but either way," Nishinoya shrugs.

I choke again. "Wait, you - really?"

He just grins at me, any pretense of embarrassment gone. It's just not his style. I should've realized from his acting and word choice, but he manages to be at least somewhat believable when he tries. He once told me that, if he hadn't joined volleyball and loved it so much, he might have joined a drama club and pursued an acting career, instead.

"Well?" he prompts, shaking me from my thoughts.

A blush settles over my cheeks again, and I gulp, shoving my hands into my jacket. Nishinoya often flirted, either by saying some cheesy pickup line or something similar, so it wasn't too much of a shock that he asked. But... I'd wondered if he just flirted with me because he did with everybody, or if he even considered it flirting.

I hadn't dared to entertain the thought that he might like me back.

I'm not sure when it truly began, but I only actually realized a few days after I left the volleyball club. I hadn't realized that being apart from him for so long, either on or off the court, would leave such a hole. Sometimes I'd wake up in the night and see my volleyball sitting on my desk in the dark, after just dreaming about being back on the team, watching Nishinoya receive an impossible ball.

When I'd found out he had left the club, as well, something inside me shattered. I couldn't help but wonder if that was what he'd felt when I left: hopeless, alone, and broken, as if I were missing a limb or a chunk of my soul. The thought was terrifying enough that it, somehow, prevented me from rejoining.

Then Hinata suddenly popped in and swayed me, leaving me peeking into the gym and, of course, dragged inside. I'd locked eyes with Nishinoya, feeling hopeless and hopeful and brave and terrified and strong and brittle all at once. And, after I called for Sugawara's toss during the practice match against the Neighborhood Association, we won.

I'd had a breakthrough, and Nishinoya knew it. Even if he didn't say it, I could see from his expression, his eyes, even the way he held himself that a great weight was lifted off him. Ever since we both rejoined, we'd support each other and chase away the other's doubts. We made each other stronger.

So as I stand here, now, surrounded by the whispering leaves and the vivid sunset, I realize that it isn't much of a choice at all.

I close my eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply like I do on the court. When I open them again, Nishinoya stands in front of me still, as strong and bright as ever. He cocks his head, and an eyebrow, as he awaits my response.

"Yes."

His eyes widen, and it seems as if his mask of confidence faltered.

"Nishinoya Y - Yuu, I've cared about you for a long time, and that feeling has only grown over the - over the months. We may be different, and we very much are, but y - you make me strong. You banish my doubts and worries and are the - the true reason I came back to the club," I say, and take a deep breath, nerves humming, heart pounding. "S - so my answer is yes."

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Present
(The day after Christmas)
Nishinoya's POV

"Yuu?"

I jolt awake to Asahi's voice. Memories of the day before, the Christmas party, mix with my dream. Last night Asahi's family had ate and laughed and exchanges presents. The adults all stayed in the dining room or kitchen while the kids took over the living room, taking turns playing four-player Mario Kart. I'm proud to boast that I beat every single one of them - except Asahi.

It's about the dozenth time in a row that I've dreamt about that evening. And though I always seem to wake up at the same point, I remember exactly what had happened after he'd said yes.

We didn't kiss or anything (yet, at least), but I dragged him down the street a ways to Ukai's shop. Coach hadn't been there, of course, but we bought coconut popsicles and ate them while sat on the sidewalk. We talked just like normal, staring up at the slowly brightening stars, but there was that underlying feeling of pure contentment.

I yawn, opening my eyes fully to Asahi's amused face hovering very close above mine. "'Morning," I mumble, voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning," he says back with a grin.

His large and calloused but somehow soft hands fingers sweep through my bedraggled hair. I close my eyes and sigh, unwilling to give up sleep so easily. Then I feel his lips press a kiss to my forehead, warm and gentle.

I open my eyes when he pulls away, donning a wide, sleepy grin. "'Chin's scratchy."

Asahi flicks my forehead.

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