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faith in freedom
nishinoya-centric // ~1.5k
> piece for Old Paths: A Haikyuu Scrapbook Zine. Pre-Kamomedai Match, Pre-Timeskip.
When Nishinoya accidentally sprains his ankle after trying to skateboard home, Narita tells him, three days later over lunch, “Good thing that this didn’t happen during Spring High.”
They’re eating by the steps outside the indoor court. Nishinoya’s hand hovers over the bandages wrapped around his ankle. He thinks about the possibility that it could’ve happened, that separate circumstances would tangle together and another universe would come to life wherein he’d gotten hurt a bit earlier and how it would’ve changed everything.
Two setbacks, rather than one. Two less members, rather than one. More struggle, more distraught, more desperation, all against foes who mimic them in more ways than one.
“We still could’ve won,” he says. “Just because bad things happen doesn’t mean that it’ll stay that way.”
“You’re our only libero though, so we can’t afford to lose you,” Narita reminds him. “But maybe. I’m thinking more about how it’ll affect you, not the outcome of the match. Even if Hinata knew better, he still felt guilty about it, you know?”
There’s something he isn’t really saying, something Nishinoya would tell him to spit out because the both know he isn’t stupid. But Nishinoya’s thoughts are muddled from the memory of the sprain, fresh in his mind despite how it’s the third day. It’s not like he’s new to injuries like these, the kind that hurt but don’t really last long enough to be worrying, but it’s not like knowledge makes the pain ease off either.
This is what Narita is implying: being sick and benched destroyed Hinata because he loves volleyball and he has the scars and the skills to show it, because there’s nothing he cherishes more than the sport. Being injured and benched would destroy Nishinoya too, because he loves volleyball and he has the scars and the skills to show it. But for all their similar fiery passion and disadvantages that try to complicate the situation, the simple way they both see things, he is not Hinata, because the world is simple when you take down all the walls of complexities that prevent people from learning to find strength to live in it.
And Nishinoya understands the notion of loving volleyball so much that there’s nothing beyond touching the ball that you care enough to see and embrace with open arms. But he is not Hinata, and he would not fall to ruin at the prospect of not being able to play—temporarily, permanently, ninety minutes, ninety years.
There are things beyond lifting the volleyball to the sky for giants and birds alike to reach, and he’s always liked facing the unknown.
“...graduation’s intimidating.” Asahi’s voice drifts in the storage room as they tidy up after a day of practice. There are no more matches, so they don’t really have any use for training, but they continue showing up regardless because they just want to play. Nishinoya’s ankle recovered a week ago, and he’s grateful for the lack of restraints on his skin. “You don’t have to worry about what you’ll be doing after high school for a year though.”
Nishinoya scoffs. “I’m not going to wait for a year to worry about those things, Asahi-san,” he admonishes. “Pushing things that far back is why you’re always so stressed about things, and I’m not going to be like that.”
It’s not in a mean way, and Asahi knows this, but the third-year still flushes anyway, embarrassed at the call out. “I—fine,” he concedes. “Does that mean you have an idea then? On after?”
Though he wants to say that he doesn’t, Nishinoya finds that his thoughts aren’t completely blank, that he has an answer to offer. “I think I’m gonna save up some money and leave.”
“Leave?”
“Travel!” Nishinoya explains, and the more he thinks about it, the more certain he feels. He rides on the thought, clutches onto it with vigor and hope—like grasping a ball and hugging it to his chest. “Across Japan and across the world, as far as it can take me. I want to see and try stuff I’ve never seen or done before.”
Because it makes sense when Nishinoya thinks about it. Because being able to face the unknown means to let go of everything you once knew, and freedom exists in never being held back by anything, of never feeling regret once you look back at what once was.
This was how he came to love volleyball, once upon a time: grasping onto something that he didn’t know but had potential to become something he could know, most intimately, most passionately. It’s not a far-fetched thought—that he might find something like that once more when he steps into a world that doesn’t revolve around the court.
“It sounds cool,” Asahi admits. He doesn’t question the words and their suddenness; he knows Nishinoya well enough to trust in his abilities and the truth behind his declarations. “I’m thinking of going to Tokyo, maybe getting into a fashion school there.”
Nishinoya beams at him. In his own way, Asahi is finding something worth grasping onto too.
“It’s freeing.” Nishinoya’s already finished the popsicle, and there’s only the stick left. He points it at Hinata. “We should keep this tradition next year, Shouyou! And when I graduate and you become an upperclassman, you should be a good senpai and treat them out to snacks.”
“I don’t get it,” Hinata tells him, still hung up on the topic. “Volleyball is freeing too. It’s like flying.”
“It is,” Nishinoya agrees, gaze wandering to the gentle river, waves barely swayed by the calm breeze. In his first year, he asked Tanaka if swimming beneath the water had the same surreal magic as soaring the sky, and though they would never physically know the feeling of the former, they could at least afford the latter whenever they stepped onto the court. “But it might not be that way forever.”
Treading the waters was not the same as leaping to the sky, but it felt liberating all the same. Still, time was slippery and moved too fast for his liking; when his lungs demanded air and his fingers grew wrinkled, the rush had washed away and he couldn’t cling onto it any longer. How many calluses and knee scrapes would it take for Nishinoya to feel that way about volleyball?
“I can never see myself not loving volleyball,” Hinata admits. When he looks down at his hand, Nishinoya knows that he’s thinking of a volleyball, resting on his palm. “I don’t ever want to stop flying.”
The statement makes Nishinoya laugh. “Then that means you’re free, Shouyou!” he says. “True freedom is doing what you love without wanting to stop. You don’t hesitate, you don’t have limits.”
“Is that why you want to see the world, Noya-san?”
Nishinoya nods. “If I continue volleyball, then maybe I’ll reach it eventually, but I don’t want to be limited to just one thing. The world—it’s big! And I want to see it because I can, because I don’t want anything to stop me.”
“No hesitation, no limits,” Hinata looks thoughtful. “That’s really cool.”
Enjoy diving into the waters only to swim right back to the surface, but Nishinoya still wants to go deeper and explore the ocean and its treasures, something that he knows exists in his mind in a distant sense but never with the capability to hold onto it. He doesn’t want to be held down by oxygen, doesn’t want to just keep doing what he does because everyone expects him to.
“It sounds scary,” Hinata tells him. “But, Noya-san, if there’s one person who I think can do it, it’s you!”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re strong! The guardian of the court! And you’re free. You won’t let anything hold you down.”
“I’d never let that happen.” Nishinoya gives Hinata a stern look. “And you shouldn’t either.”
Hinata grins. “I won’t.”
Just like that, Nishinoya knows this: in their own way, they’ll both see the world and all it has to offer. They’ll both be looking towards the same sky, riding the same currents, breathing the same air. It’ll be like that with Shouyou, with Asahi, with Narita, with Tanaka, with everyone he’s ever met and liked and loved and remembered.
At this very moment, these people are his world. And even if there are things beyond them that Nishinoya can’t wait to someday reach, he’ll still embrace what he has right now with open arms and without regret.
> piece for Old Paths: A Haikyuu Scrapbook Zine. Pre-Kamomedai Match, Pre-Timeskip.
When Nishinoya accidentally sprains his ankle after trying to skateboard home, Narita tells him, three days later over lunch, “Good thing that this didn’t happen during Spring High.”
They’re eating by the steps outside the indoor court. Nishinoya’s hand hovers over the bandages wrapped around his ankle. He thinks about the possibility that it could’ve happened, that separate circumstances would tangle together and another universe would come to life wherein he’d gotten hurt a bit earlier and how it would’ve changed everything.
Two setbacks, rather than one. Two less members, rather than one. More struggle, more distraught, more desperation, all against foes who mimic them in more ways than one.
“We still could’ve won,” he says. “Just because bad things happen doesn’t mean that it’ll stay that way.”
“You’re our only libero though, so we can’t afford to lose you,” Narita reminds him. “But maybe. I’m thinking more about how it’ll affect you, not the outcome of the match. Even if Hinata knew better, he still felt guilty about it, you know?”
There’s something he isn’t really saying, something Nishinoya would tell him to spit out because the both know he isn’t stupid. But Nishinoya’s thoughts are muddled from the memory of the sprain, fresh in his mind despite how it’s the third day. It’s not like he’s new to injuries like these, the kind that hurt but don’t really last long enough to be worrying, but it’s not like knowledge makes the pain ease off either.
This is what Narita is implying: being sick and benched destroyed Hinata because he loves volleyball and he has the scars and the skills to show it, because there’s nothing he cherishes more than the sport. Being injured and benched would destroy Nishinoya too, because he loves volleyball and he has the scars and the skills to show it. But for all their similar fiery passion and disadvantages that try to complicate the situation, the simple way they both see things, he is not Hinata, because the world is simple when you take down all the walls of complexities that prevent people from learning to find strength to live in it.
And Nishinoya understands the notion of loving volleyball so much that there’s nothing beyond touching the ball that you care enough to see and embrace with open arms. But he is not Hinata, and he would not fall to ruin at the prospect of not being able to play—temporarily, permanently, ninety minutes, ninety years.
There are things beyond lifting the volleyball to the sky for giants and birds alike to reach, and he’s always liked facing the unknown.
==
Nishinoya knows, even without anyone saying it, because he’s more perceptive when he lets on, that they expect him to go pro.“...graduation’s intimidating.” Asahi’s voice drifts in the storage room as they tidy up after a day of practice. There are no more matches, so they don’t really have any use for training, but they continue showing up regardless because they just want to play. Nishinoya’s ankle recovered a week ago, and he’s grateful for the lack of restraints on his skin. “You don’t have to worry about what you’ll be doing after high school for a year though.”
Nishinoya scoffs. “I’m not going to wait for a year to worry about those things, Asahi-san,” he admonishes. “Pushing things that far back is why you’re always so stressed about things, and I’m not going to be like that.”
It’s not in a mean way, and Asahi knows this, but the third-year still flushes anyway, embarrassed at the call out. “I—fine,” he concedes. “Does that mean you have an idea then? On after?”
Though he wants to say that he doesn’t, Nishinoya finds that his thoughts aren’t completely blank, that he has an answer to offer. “I think I’m gonna save up some money and leave.”
“Leave?”
“Travel!” Nishinoya explains, and the more he thinks about it, the more certain he feels. He rides on the thought, clutches onto it with vigor and hope—like grasping a ball and hugging it to his chest. “Across Japan and across the world, as far as it can take me. I want to see and try stuff I’ve never seen or done before.”
Because it makes sense when Nishinoya thinks about it. Because being able to face the unknown means to let go of everything you once knew, and freedom exists in never being held back by anything, of never feeling regret once you look back at what once was.
This was how he came to love volleyball, once upon a time: grasping onto something that he didn’t know but had potential to become something he could know, most intimately, most passionately. It’s not a far-fetched thought—that he might find something like that once more when he steps into a world that doesn’t revolve around the court.
“It sounds cool,” Asahi admits. He doesn’t question the words and their suddenness; he knows Nishinoya well enough to trust in his abilities and the truth behind his declarations. “I’m thinking of going to Tokyo, maybe getting into a fashion school there.”
Nishinoya beams at him. In his own way, Asahi is finding something worth grasping onto too.
==
The afternoon after the third-years graduation finds Nishinoya and Hinata sitting right in front of the shallow waters of the riverbank in their area of Miyagi. In the season of spring, the wind whistles as the sun reaches its peak in the sky. As they split popsicles Nishinoya had bought them from the convenience store, Hinata asks, “Why traveling, Noya-san?”“It’s freeing.” Nishinoya’s already finished the popsicle, and there’s only the stick left. He points it at Hinata. “We should keep this tradition next year, Shouyou! And when I graduate and you become an upperclassman, you should be a good senpai and treat them out to snacks.”
“I don’t get it,” Hinata tells him, still hung up on the topic. “Volleyball is freeing too. It’s like flying.”
“It is,” Nishinoya agrees, gaze wandering to the gentle river, waves barely swayed by the calm breeze. In his first year, he asked Tanaka if swimming beneath the water had the same surreal magic as soaring the sky, and though they would never physically know the feeling of the former, they could at least afford the latter whenever they stepped onto the court. “But it might not be that way forever.”
Treading the waters was not the same as leaping to the sky, but it felt liberating all the same. Still, time was slippery and moved too fast for his liking; when his lungs demanded air and his fingers grew wrinkled, the rush had washed away and he couldn’t cling onto it any longer. How many calluses and knee scrapes would it take for Nishinoya to feel that way about volleyball?
“I can never see myself not loving volleyball,” Hinata admits. When he looks down at his hand, Nishinoya knows that he’s thinking of a volleyball, resting on his palm. “I don’t ever want to stop flying.”
The statement makes Nishinoya laugh. “Then that means you’re free, Shouyou!” he says. “True freedom is doing what you love without wanting to stop. You don’t hesitate, you don’t have limits.”
“Is that why you want to see the world, Noya-san?”
Nishinoya nods. “If I continue volleyball, then maybe I’ll reach it eventually, but I don’t want to be limited to just one thing. The world—it’s big! And I want to see it because I can, because I don’t want anything to stop me.”
“No hesitation, no limits,” Hinata looks thoughtful. “That’s really cool.”
Enjoy diving into the waters only to swim right back to the surface, but Nishinoya still wants to go deeper and explore the ocean and its treasures, something that he knows exists in his mind in a distant sense but never with the capability to hold onto it. He doesn’t want to be held down by oxygen, doesn’t want to just keep doing what he does because everyone expects him to.
“It sounds scary,” Hinata tells him. “But, Noya-san, if there’s one person who I think can do it, it’s you!”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re strong! The guardian of the court! And you’re free. You won’t let anything hold you down.”
“I’d never let that happen.” Nishinoya gives Hinata a stern look. “And you shouldn’t either.”
Hinata grins. “I won’t.”
Just like that, Nishinoya knows this: in their own way, they’ll both see the world and all it has to offer. They’ll both be looking towards the same sky, riding the same currents, breathing the same air. It’ll be like that with Shouyou, with Asahi, with Narita, with Tanaka, with everyone he’s ever met and liked and loved and remembered.
At this very moment, these people are his world. And even if there are things beyond them that Nishinoya can’t wait to someday reach, he’ll still embrace what he has right now with open arms and without regret.