ch5 - paint

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I traced the inside of my palm. It's become habit. We've tried to connect with each other again, just like that night. We have yet to succeed. I never stopped trying to reach out to them, until it just became a simple habit.

I feel light tingling sensation up my arms. Finally playing volleyball again. Their fingers must be fully healed for them now. It's been awhile since the accident. We're both better now. I guess I can't look fro my soulmate by looking for volleyball payers with bandaged fingers now, their fingers won't be bandaged anymore.

I pick up a random pen, they're pens in almost every corner of this messy art clubroom.

You're playing again! You're fingers all better now?

I probably won't get a reply until after the practice. The tingling continues, up my forearms, on my hand. I didn't realize how much I've missed this. It's like a constant reminder that you aren't alone. There is some out there for you, connected to you. A warm smile takes over my lips.

I pick my brush back up and finish the part of the painting I was working on. About %70 done now. Before I pack up my paints, I mix a small sample of a specific colour of blue. Grabbing a paint brush I paint a sample of the blue across my wrist.

During one of our conversations I indirectly found out that my soulmate loves this colour of blue I've made. Of course, there would be no way for them to save this colour. As I've made it, you can't buy it. So every now and then I'll paint a sample of it on myself for them.

I clean up my equipment and head in to retire for the day. Scratch that. The stack of homework on my desk hasn't gotten smaller. I change into something more comfortable than the white-blue-and purple uniform. Turing on some studying music, I begin to work. Getting into this school was hard, but it seems like staying in the school was harder. So much work. Of course, I quickly get distracted by the new writing on my arm.

All better now. How did you know I was playing?

I guess I never told you, I can feel the contact with the ball anytime you're hitting it.

Sorry, I the sting of volleyball has kinda gone away for me. I didn't think you could feel it too. Does it hurt?

No! not at all. It's like a light tingle. No pain at all. It actually doesn't feel bad.

Running out of space to write, I wipe off the messages. They do the same.

Could you teach me more about volleyball?

Over the past few days, they have taught me a bit about volleyball and I teach a bit about art. Today they teach me about different spiking attacks, like quicks. I exchange I teach about shading, I don't think they really got it.

I really like this blue

they write, drawing a little arrow to the blue swatch painted across my wrist.

I know.

I wish I could see one of your art pieces. I know! paint for me.

???

Paint something on yourself, it'll show up on me too. I want to see.

ok, one sec.

I feel heat rise to my cheeks. I don't know why. I find my paints and a few small brushes. I know exactly what to paint. I get to work using blues and yellows to create a small volleyball on the inside of my wrist, under the swatch of blue. After a few minutes (or a lot, I can never tell when I'm painting) I add the final details.

WOW, It's amazing!

You smile at the complement.

Thanks.

Why the volleyball though?

idk, it reminded me of you.

Drawn to you // Tsukishima x reader  -  soulmate AU!Where stories live. Discover now