Chapter Text
Miyagi feels the thin fabric of his shirt between his fingers, eventually deciding that the material is thin enough to be comfortably practicing in. The sleeves span to a little past his wrist, covering his arms, and when he raises them the sleeves slip down a few centimeters, exposing his forearms. He decides that this is fine. No one is ever watching him that closely anyway.
He asked out the prettiest girl in class today, and got rejected. Getting rejected was honestly no surprise to him after the last 3 girls, but the surprise was when people started talking shit and gossiping about him for it.
While stewing this over, he overheard a conversation, and it just so happened to be about him. The gentlemen in question were actually just minding their business, but as Miyagi walked by them, he couldn’t help but listen.
“Have you heard about that new freshman? He’s been asking out girls left and right.”
“Hah, yeah? 2 months into high school and you think you could pull? That little piece of shit just got out of junior high, he must be delusional. How tall is he anyway? I bet I could beat his ass.”
“I saw him, he was less than 5 foot, you can take him for sure.”
And for the strangest reason, Miyagi didn’t even mind the comments about him being a delusional freshman, because in a way, he sort of saw where they were coming from. Yes, he just came out of junior high with a new haircut, and maybe that’s what gave him the confidence to ask out the girls. And yes, those girls were upperclassmen, but he learned! He even talked to someone in his grade this time.
What irked him the most, what made him stop and turn his supposed below 5 foot self around and beat up the group of 4 upperclassmen, was how stupidly and utterly convinced they were that they could beat his ass.
Miyagi’s been through a lot of fights junior high. He’d even argue that’s the one thing he’s learned from there.
Skip past a good 20 minutes, and now he’s here, late for practice, and having to cover up the bruises on his arms with a long sleeved shirt. They were surprisingly good at fighting, those upperclassmen, but Miyagi had something they don’t. He had to get to practice.
And now, Miyagi takes a deep breath in and lets it out. He closes his locker softly, and if you’d look at him now it’d look like nothing was wrong.
As Akagi walks in and tells Miyagi to hurry it up, and Miyagi smiles back with that easy going grin, it’d feel that way too.
-
“Ryota-kun, it’s always so hot in the gym, why do you keep wearing long sleeves? You’ll melt, you know.” Yasuda complains and Miyagi smiles.
“Don’t I look good? It’s fashionable isn’t?” Miyagi vaguely poses, and Yasuda laughs.
“I didn’t think you were the type to be fashionable.” Yasuda exclaims. “Oh, I heard you got into another fight today! Are you alright??”
Miyagi looks at Yasuda for a few moments, just thinking about how much he should say before noticing Akagi listening into their conversation. He gives Yasuda that look, the one that tells him to play it cool, as he replies. “Don’t be dumb, I don’t get into fights.”
“Ah…” Yasuda’s eyes wander around, looking for what Miyagi might be wary about before he catches a glance of Akagi looking right back at them. His head whips back towards Miyagi. “Ah! Right, Miyagi-kun, I was just messing with you!”
He gives an awkward laugh, and Miyagi sighs. Yasuda totally just gave them away. “A star player like you would never get into a fight…”
Yasuda keeps talking to really sell it (even though it’s something Akagi won’t buy), and Miyagi just goes along with it.
For the amount of times Miyagi caught himself trying to make himself look better in front of Akagi, he actually had no clue why he did it. He didn’t know why he cared so much about what Akagi thought. He didn’t care at all about the other upperclassman, but when it came to Akagi’s expectations the pressure became unbearable. His gaze wanders towards Akagi anyway. Maybe it was just because he was a good teammate. He wouldn’t want to upset someone he could count on.
-
Miyagi stalls and stalls after practice, waiting until everyone else is gone, and trying to gauge when Akagi’s going to leave. He needs to change back into regular clothes, but he doesn’t want anyone seeing him change. He doesn’t feel like answering questions today.
But when Akagi comes up to him, telling him that it’s time to leave, he could only obediently nod and head to the locker room along side him. Maybe he just won’t change today.
“… I don’t actually care about you getting into those fights.” Akagi says to him, and Miyagi freezes for a moment. “Well, as long as you don’t cause trouble for the team. We might have to kick you out on bad behaviour though.”
“Right.” Miyagi replies, a part of him relieved. At least he can change now. He takes off his shirt, revealing the bruises on his body and arms, rummaging through his bag for a change of clothes. “It’s strange, I don’t know why I thought it would be such a big deal for you.”
“It isn’t.” Akagi says, his eyes narrowing at Miyagi. “I just didn’t think you were the type of get into fights.”
“You think I’m too small?” Miyagi looks up at Akagi, an amused smile on his face.
Akagi shrugs. “You just don’t seem like the type to get heated.”
When Miyagi looks back at him inquisitively, urging him to go on, Akagi continues. “You’re… what’s that word from English?… Lackadaisical.”
“Huh?” Miyagi tilts his head. “What’s that?”
“Someone who doesn’t care.” Akagi changes into a new set of clothes as well, hearing Miyagi laugh as he does so.
“I don’t know why you’d say that.” Miyagi replies. “I care a lot, Akagi-senpai.”
Akagi looks at Miyagi, recalling the previous practices, and the heat and tenacity he brings to every single one. He recalls the tingling in his hands after he receives an assist, and that wide grin on Miyagi’s face after he scores.
Akagi nods. “I figured.”