Chapter 1: The Transfer

*Tokyo - Summer before the start of third year

Fukurodani Academy, a lot different from last school. At least I hope it will be. At least I'll have some friends going into the school year. Hopefully. I mean, I have a whole summer of practice with the team before the school year even starts. I have to make at least one friend. Right?

I mean, there's no way the kids here can be an uptight as the kids from my last school.

Stupid Rich kids.

Then again, it was nice getting rides to school from my own personal driver. Now, I have to walk. Walk where? I don't know.

I stood in front of the house of my host family. A nice older couple that's letting me stay with them this school year. My aunt's house is way too far from here. Besides, Mr. and Mrs. Ito said that there's a boy next door going to the same school. I looked down to my phone, to check the time. 6:15 AM. 7AM, practices in the summer. This school doesn't play around.

My old school barely practiced at all, and now I have to be up at the crack of dawn to get there. I wonder if the coach makes you do penalties from being late.

I smiled, a bit just thinking about running laps for being late. To finally have a coach that's not scared of the students, their parents, or their money. Someone who's not afraid to whip us into shape.

"This should be fun," I whispered to myself.

Just then I heard someone shouting, "Bye Mom."

The audacity to be so loud so early. Mr. and Mrs. Ito are still sleeping. Though I suppose they did warn me. He's kind, but loud.

He walked towards me with his hands shoved, in the pockets of his sweatpants. His eyes seemed to be watching, studying me really. As if making sure I am the right person, he's supposed to be escorting to the school. I mean I know they told him I'm from America, at least. People often like to leave out the Black part.

And they left out everything about him. He was tall, but I'm not sure how tall. I feel like I'm over estimating his height because of his hair. Those white tips gotta be adding an extra six inches. I wait for him to get closer to make my final judgment on his height. But once he approached me, he slouched down to my level, saying loudly and slowly, as he tapped his chest, "Bo-ku-to."

I stared at him blankly. Either he's an idiot, or he thinks I'm one.

"Bo-ku-to," He said again, breaking it down into syllables. "I - am - Bo-ku-to."

I lean forward a bit, mimicking his actions, tapping my own chest saying, "Zar-a." Having a name with only two syllables, doesn't have the same effect.

In English I said, "I - am - Zar-a."

He stood up tall now, smiling, "Hey!"

He pointed a finger forward and started to step in that direction so I followed silently, smiling to myself. I honestly love it when people assume I don't speak Japanese. The shocked face, as they realized that they themselves are the idiots and not me.

We walked in silence for a while. Mrs. Ito said he was rather talkative, but I guess if he's assuming it's a language barrier he'll keep his mouth shut. This is more fun in crowds. Especially crowds for snobby rich kids, that like to talk behind your back at every chance they get.

I was going to fess up and talk to him just to break the silence on this chilled summer morning. I slid my hands into the pocket of the hoodie, tucking my chin into it, covering my full lips. Muffling the sound of my voice as I said, "Bokuto?"

He turned back to me, as his mouth opened, his phone began to chirp. No, a hoot. Owls? His ring tone is owls?

He held a finger up, and answered his phone with a big grin that I haven't seen yet. Man, this guy is toothy.

"Akaashi, my man!" There's that loud. His voice was booming. If I were on the other end of that phone, I'd probably be pulling it away from my ear right now.

"I'm on my way! ... I can't run ... I have a girl with me," His voice trailed off into a whisper at that last part. Then booming again, "What do you mean! Girls love me! ... Whatever man, I'll be there soon."

He was walking a bit fast now. And I chuckled a bit. I suppose that's all the fun I'm going to get out of this language barrier. I also smiled at the idea of a nice jog in this crisp morning air. My bag isn't heavy. All I have is my shoes and my knee pads, so I say to him in japanese, "Run."

He froze. His tall hair seemed to stand taller as his whole body stiffened. He turned back to me, eyes wide in bewilderment. His amber eyes grew small and his stiff body dropped into a slouch. "Eh, what?"

"Run," I said again, "I'll try to keep up."

He continued to stare and slouch. Making me laugh out loud. I shook my head and started to jog out in front of him pointing, "This way?"

I continued straight, until his long legs caught up with me. His strides were long, he wasn't necessarily running fast, he was just jogging, and checking over his shoulder to make sure I was still there.

And I was right there. Ready for a real challenge. I was on his heels, pushing him to go faster, letting him know I can take it.

He looked back again, seeing me right there behind. I saw him grin, wide and toothy. His amber eyes narrowed as I took my next stride, stepping beside him. Something sparked in him once he saw me there next to him. His steps quickened. As did mine, until we were no longer jogging, but full on running, towards the school. He turned a corner and I stayed just two steps behind him as the school finally came into view.

I smiled, seeing my finish line in reach. It didn't matter that my heart was racing, it didn't matter that the cool air pierced my lungs as I inhaled. Nothing mattered. My destination was right there, and the faster I get to it, the quicker I can stop. So I push, no longer worrying about Bokuto and his directions. I pushed straight into a sprint. Legs moving faster with each stride I take. It felt as though I was cutting through the wind as it whipped around me. I was right there!

But ... he was there first.

Bokuto flew past me as I was just two steps away from reaching the building. This is what happens when you relax before you finish. I knew this. What I didn't know, was that I cared this much about him beating.

"Oh come on! I was right there!"

"But I was there first! HEY HEY HEY!" He boomed with his arms up high.

I mean, look at this guy. Did I actually think I could beat him in a race? Or maybe I just got too used to no one trying as hard as me. I hope the girls volleyball team has as much energy as this guy.

I chuckled to myself, looking around at the group buildings around me. So this is it. This is my new school.

"HEY!" Bokuto boomed again, "Why didn't you tell me you speak Japanese? Now I feel like a jackass! And wow your fast! Are you here to run track? And aren't you a little tall to be a girl?"

Yup, this guy is loud, talkative and energetic alright. And it's not even 7, yet.

"Eh... You assumed I didn't, so I guess that does make an ass out of you."

His face sunk, but I went on, "I'm here to play volleyball. And I'm 5'8 so I guess I'm a little tall for a girl. Especially around here. But aren't you a little tall to be Japanese?"

"6'1," He said proudly pointing to himself, "Captain and Ace of the boys volleyball club, Shorty."

"Shorty? You just called me tall like two seconds around and 6'1, big whoop, you got five inches on me." I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms.

A door opened from one of the buildings and someone shouted out, "Bokuto! Get in here!"

"Coming!" He called back, looking down to me with a smile. He pointed to a building next to the one he was called too, "The girls club practices in that gym. They typically finish before us, so after practice you can come over to our gym, so we can walk home. Walk!"

"Walk, got it," I laughed moving past him to go to the gym beside him.

He walked a step behind, heading for his own gym shouting, "Akaashi! I beat her in a race!"

"Great job, you beat a girl. You must be so proud of yourself."

"Well when you say it like that, it doesn't sound as cool." He pouted, making me laugh again before walking into an empty gym.

Just me, and the net. Nothing I'm not used to. I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked the time. Still 15 minutes until 7.

I do some stretches, grab a ball and head the end line of the court. I moved back, a bit actually. I've been working on my jump serve. I only take three steps to approach but my legs are long and my steps are wide. This is why I've always been a middle blocker. I can get to any part of the net in just a few steps.

I bent my knees, getting low and bounced the ball twice with both hands on the ball, before giving it a high toss. My eyes stayed locked on the ball as I started my approach, arms flying back with my second step, knees bending with the third before shooting up to meet the ball. My legs flew back, my back arched, and I inhaled, tightening my muscles.

Then an exhale, I hit the ball at my highest point, sending the ball away. I still watched the ball as it flew over the net, making sure it landed in the court. So focused on the ball, I forgot to land.

This happens more than I'd like to admit. I fell back on my butt, but the ball was in. So, I smile.

"What are you doing?" Someone asked as they entered the gym. Quickly I jumped to my feet, turning the door with a slight bow, "Sorry. I am Zara Mac, third year transfer student from Ouran Academy."

"Ouran you say? Not very known for their sports." She said.

I looked up at her, well more like down. I've been in Japan with my aunt Bri for the past few years. I'm used to being the tallest girl around.

She had a short hair cut, with her bangs held back with two clips. She stood with her arms crossed and an expression that showed she really didn't care who I was.

"No they're not," I said, "So I came here. This is my last chance to play, so I want to do it right."

She huffed as other girls came into the gym, putting on their court shoes.

"Well. Don't be disappointed when you spend the whole season on the bench."

Damn it. Maybe it's not just rich girls but girls in general that are jerks.

Still I smile smugly.

There's no way in Hell they're gonna bench me.