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❝Only during the pain of parting can someone realize how they feel.❞

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"Tickets please."

The man at the door looks annoyed, tapping his shoe and sighing. You fumble in your pockets, holding out some money you found in the headmaster's car.

"Is this enough?" You ask. The man shakes his head.

"Tickets," he explains, "you need tickets to enter."

You look at Mang, who shrugs, then you turn back to the man. "What if I just gave you this money?"

"I said no," he sighs, "you. need. tickets."

You grumble, taking Mang's hand and leading her away. After glancing at the man once more, you whisper to her.

"Do you think there's a back door?"

She grins. "Let's go look."

You run around to the back of the gym, being as quiet as you can. Mang sneaks beside you, her orange hair falling in her face.

She trips, landing face first on the ground.

"Oh my gosh, Mang!" You gasp, helping her up, "Are you okay?"

She wipes her face, dirt rubbing off onto her hands. "I'm fine." 

"Hey!" A man shouts, "What are you two doing back here?"

You grab Mang's arm. "Let's go!"

You both run back to the front of the gym, your shoes tossing dirt into your pursuer's face. He coughs, getting even angrier.

He's not guarding the door anymore, so you just run on inside, the sound of the volleyball game making you smile. Shoes squeaking against the court, the cheers of the crowd and shouts of teammates.

You hurry behind the bleachers, Mang in awe of the crowd.

Once you're hidden fairly well, you smile. "Have you ever been to a volleyball game before?"

"No," she replies, staring from behind the bleachers, "there's so many people!"

You laugh, then point to the court. "See number 10? That's him! He can help us!"

You watch as Shoyo jumps, bringing his hand down and smacking the ball to the court floor. Date Tech's blockers had been bested by the decoy.

"WWOOOOOOO SHOOOOYYYOOOOOOO!!!!!!" You scream in spite of yourself. Mang looks at you like you're crazy, but then she starts to cheer too.

He looks your way, and your heart skips a beat. Did he hear you?

But then, since he wasn't looking . . . 

 . . . a spike hits him in the face, sending him flying backwards. 

Your jaw drops. "Shoyo!"

Someone blows a whistle as Shoyo's teammates help him up, only to reveal that his nose is bleeding. They take him off of the court, and number 11 takes his place. 

"I'm gonna go talk to him," you tell Mang.

"I'll come too!"

You both come out from hiding, but stop when you see the man from outside the gym. He looks angry. Really angry.

You sigh. "Dangit."

"Just get his attention," Mang suggests. 

"Huh?"

"Scream his name so he'll come over here," she explains, "then we won't get caught."

You shrug. "Worth a try."

You take a deep breath.

"SSSSHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOYYYYOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

He snaps his head around, making eye contact with you. Your heart pounds when his face lights up.

Those few seconds you maintain it feels like forever. You gesture to him, pointing to outside.

You watch as he turns to Ukai, whispering something to him. His coach rolls his eyes, but waves his hand, giving him permission.

You wave your hand at Mang. "Come on!"

Running around the bleachers, you stay out of the guard man's sight, losing track of Shoyo in the process. You're by the bathrooms, assuming that's the excuse your friend made.

"He should be here somewhere," you mutter to yourself, looking around. 

Hands hug you from behind, making you jump. But his voice calms your heart.

"I missed you!"

You spin around, the world freezing in that moment. It's him. After two months, after countless tears, after a predetermined goodbye, and he's here.

You hug him, your mind trailing back to what he said before.

"I like you!"

He laughs, wiping his nose. You remember how he got hit in the face.

"I'm really sorry I distracted you like that." You rub the back of your head.

He shakes his head. "No! It wasn't your fault! I just can't believe you're here! I'm fine now!"

"Good," you smile, ignoring the way your heart is pounding.

"How'd you get here? And who's this?" Shoyo asks, gesturing to Mang, who's huddled behind you. 

"He's shorter up close," she mumbles, making the happy boy's frown droop.

"Hey!" He grumbles, "I'm not that short! I can still play volleyball!"

Mang tilts her head. "That doesn't change the fact that you're shor—"

"Alright, Mang, that's enough." You shove her lightly.

"Still, I'd imagined your boyfriend would be a lot taller."

You blush, pushing her aside. "H-He's not my boyfriend—!"

"Whatever," she shrugs, "I gotta go to the bathroom. You're a horrible driver."

Mang skips away.

"Oh." You look at Shoyo, whose face is downcast. "I thought that maybe . . . "

"Oh . . ." You mutter in reply, not sure what to say, "Oh! Y-You—"

"No, it's fine," He forces a smile, "it's not like we ever talked about it or anything. It's okay if you don't like me anymore, it's been a while, and I'm not that gre—"

You grab him by the shoulders, hugging him quickly. "I-It's not like that. I like you, Shoyo. I love how passionate you are, I love your crazy tangerine hair, I love your enthusiasm, I love how you love sunflowers and meat buns, and I love who I am when I'm with you. I love you."

Without realizing it, your 'I like you' turned into an 'I love you', and the orange haired boy in your arms turns red. 

"I-I love you, too," he whispers, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. "I love your smile. I love your gentleness. I love the care you put into everything you do. A-And I love how carefree you make me feel."

"I'm glad I got to see you again."

"Me too."

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