Finding Happiness [Wakatoshi Ushijima]

2. my level

 I strived in academics and socializing. I was a people pleaser. If my brother wasn't the Student Council President my first year, I would have run for it myself and won. That was next year's plan. My first year was dedicated to being the top student in the school- I placed first in the national mock test-, being the student council secretary, and track.

A couple of months after that little mishap with Ushijima, Kimko-chan jokingly mentioned me getting hit in the face as we walked passed that same courtyard after school on our way to the council room.

I laughed at the memory then turned sour as I thought of Ushijima. "It really upsets me that this school seems to center itself on our volleyball team. Sure, they're good but so is the track team and baseball team. And let's not forget about the golf team."

Kimko-chan howled with laughter, "the GOLF team?!"

"Maybe that wasn't a good example," I kicked aside a rock in our path and smiled.

"Yeah, most of them couldn't figure out what a ball is even if Ushijima hit them with one in the face."

"Hey!" I cried out but couldn't help but think it was funny.

She leaned against the vending machine as I stopped at it for a juice. I pulled out money from my bag as I spoke, "He has this whole school wrapped around his finger just because he can hit a ball. It's always Ushiwaka-this and Ushiwaka-that but they don't realize he's an academic idiot." Kimko-chan elbowed me in the side. I was being harsh, I realized. I typed in the code for the juice, "Don't get me wrong, he's talented and handsome but if the administration could figure out how to pull their heads out of his ass then maybe the track team can afford to go to nationals and the golf team could have a chance."

"Akina-chan." Kimko-chan laced my name with the fear of God as she looked behind me.

I was completely prepared to turn around and see an administrator. Instead, it was the God of volleyball himself. He was standing behind me waiting in line for the vending machine. I didn't know how long he was there but the last tibid I said was probably enough to anger him.

"Good evening Ushijima-san," Kimko-chan spoke when I could do nothing but swallow my saliva and stare up at him with a strange smile.

"Evening," his reply was dry.

I turned around and grabbed my juice, ready to run from this situation. When I stepped out of his way he spoke, "Do you think I'm only good at volleyball because I get attention?"

I froze with my back to him. "No," I said slowly. "You get attention because you're good."

"And that makes the golf team worse."

I spun around to see him putting his money in with his full attention. "I'm talking about funds. Since you're good and everyone in this school seems to be obsessed with volleyball for some reason, a lot of the funds are dedicated towards making you better instead of possibly raising other sports and clubs up to your level."

"They cannot get to my level," he said it like a fact.

I bit my tongue. He was so full of himself. "Maybe they're already on your level and you just can't tell because other volleyball teams suck."

His hand paused before grabbing his milk. I could see a hint of a smirk on his lips just before he finished retrieving the drink. "I doubt that."

I shrugged, feeling like a cat with a mouse. Was I about to make Ushijima show emotion? I was tiptoeing around some reaction and it was a feat to even get him to talk. "Maybe other school's golf teams are just really good and make ours look bad while other volleyball teams are horrible and make ours look good."

Anger rolled off him in the form of pierced lips and a harsh gaze. I couldn't not smirk up at him. I could see his monster ego deflating a bit.

"Volleyball practice starts in ten minutes. You will come and see that I'm better than the golf team," he moved past me on silent feet. A large part of me wanted to laugh because he probably thought he looked intimidating but what I saw was a big child sipping his milk box with an angry pout.

I didn't go to his practice. I had a council meeting to attend but even if I didn't I wouldn't have gone. I wasn't his girlfriend or admirer and I certainly didn't want to look like one by showing up to his practice and watching from the sideline. I'd rather be spiked in the face again than attend his practice.

He didn't even talk to me in class the days that followed. He probably forgot he had even asked me to come with his memory span of ten minutes-at most. Our teacher didn't even call on him in class anymore because he would ask them to repeat the question only to say, "I do not know the answer."

I would also see him on my runs sometimes. On a few awkward occasions, we've had to wait at the crosswalk together. Those few times I had contemplated running into traffic rather than stand by him. He just- irritated me so much.

I painted this image of him in my head as someone who wears their self-importance as a cloak. He believed himself better than everyone else and I didn't like that. And he was rude. He never apologized for his mistakes or when he would say something bluntly.

I kept my distance the rest of first year, but every time I saw him, I couldn't help the anger I felt towards him. 

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