Chapter Text
Clothes flew around the bedroom like leaves in the wind, a panicking Jisung running around as the sun slowly crept through the window. Most mornings were calm and relaxing, but not today—not for Jisung. He had slept through his alarm and was late for the bus.
What bus, you ask? The only bus he had to catch if he wanted to make it to volleyball camp.
Jisung never had the luxury of going to summer volleyball camp. Every year, his school got to go off to another state for a week to train with college-level players, and every year, Jisung didn't win the scholarship or have the money to pay for the trip. But this year—his senior year—was different. He finally won the scholarship after spending two sleepless nights writing up the perfect essay as to why he deserved it.
Because Han Jisung was one deserving man, as the captain of the Wildcats volleyball team. He, of all players, deserved to go.
But now onto the major problem: he was late. Ten minutes to walk a fifteen-minute walk.
"Mom!!" Jisung screamed as he threw his volleyball bag onto the bed. "Where the Hell are my shoes!?"
"Don't cuss in this household!" his mom yelled from downstairs. "And your damn shoes are by the front door! Get your ass down here!"
Jisung zipped up his bag and stumbled out of the bedroom, nearly tripping down the stairs. There, outlined in a shimmering gold aura, were his volleyball shoes, stained from countless years of use. His mom had tried multiple times to get him a new pair, but Jisung deemed these his lucky shoes.
Jisung shoved his shoes in the bag and patted his mom's shoulder. "See you, Mom. Gotta run."
"Wait," his mom said, throwing a ziplock bag of sausage biscuits in his hand. "Have fun, baby, and don't get into any trouble. And don't wander off—"
Jisung was already halfway out the door as she spoke. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Love you, bye!"
As Jisung dashed off the porch and down the sidewalk, he checked the time. Shit, shit, shit! Five minutes! I'm so dead! He sprinted as fast as his legs would take him and thanked the lucky stars that he did track in his junior year.
Converse slammed against concrete, and cars swooshed by in a blur. Jisung could almost keep up with them with how fast he ran, beads of sweat rolling down his neck. It was the heart of July—not pristine conditions to be running one's heart out, but Jisung didn't have much of a choice.
The bus station came into view, and Jisung's heart dropped. The bus had switched into drive and was rolling off.
"No! Wait!" Jisung cried, thrashing his hands around in the air.
Luck must've been on his side, as one of his best friends, Felix, noticed him from the back of the bus. After a quick laugh, he yelled something Jisung couldn't hear to the bus driver, and the bus halted.
Jisung slowed to a jog, skidding by the door as it opened with a hiss. He sported a quick smile to the bus driver as an apology before climbing in.
"Look who decided to show up fashionably late," Felix teased from the back.
Jisung rolled his eyes as he weaved through the seats, throwing his bag down and sitting beside Felix. "My legs are on fire. I think I broke a record with how fast I ran."
Seungmin and Jeongin peered over their seats. "Good thing you did, then. Wouldn't want you to miss your only chance at volleyball camp."
Jisung kneed Seungmin's seat, causing him to fall back. "Shut it. I can't help that I'm not rich like you two."
Jeongin snickered. "Honestly, you could've just asked us to cover your trip."
"I don't need your petty cash, thanks," Jisung muttered. He nudged Felix on the side. 'Give me the window seat."
Felix scoffed. "Hell no, bro. You always get the window seat when we go to games."
"And?" Jisung asked, pulling at Felix's arm. "Please. If you were my best friend, you would. We're best friends, right?"
Felix groaned, shoulders slouched. "I want it!"
"But I want it!"
"Just sit separately," Seungmin said, a shit-eating grin spread across his face.
Because he knew—Felix and Jisung couldn't be separated. Jisung was one to believe in superstition. He had his lucky shoes, his lucky water bottle, his lucky number (also the number of his jersey), and his lucky best friend. He and Felix had to sit together for games, or else they'd lose.
And it was proven.
Jisung remembered the night all too well and despised his coach for it. He and Felix had been goofing off a little too much in the back, so his coach—that damned coach Jung—forced them to separate. Would you believe that when they played that night, they lost horribly? And the Wildcats never lose without needing a tiebreaker.
Jisung huffed and slouched in the leather seat, the back of his shirt riding up slightly. "Fine, but I get it on the way home," he muttered as he opened the ziplock bag.
Felix smirked. "That's what I thought."
The rush of adrenaline slowly died down as Jisung bit into the mildly cold sausage biscuit—another good luck charm. His mom always made them before his games, and it had to be made by her, or the luck wouldn't work.
The bus rocked back and forth as excited chatter buzzed amongst the team. Jisung may have been the captain, but he wasn't the most popular of the group. That title went to their starting opposite hitter, Choi Soobin. He had the whole team wrapped around his finger, and for a good reason. He was tall, athletic, handsome, and funny as hell. Jisung's only comparison with him was his athleticism and perhaps his humor. He didn't have the height—not nearly—which was why they had him as the setter.
A good setter at that. One of the best in the districts.
And a lot of it was because of his coordination with Felix, his outside hitter. When they were both on court, the other team shook with fear. They were the Kageyama and Hinata of the real world.
Jisung popped his earbuds into his ears as he finished off his biscuit, humming along to the music as he watched the buildings swoop by. His heart raced with excitement despite his outward nonchalance.
Summer volleyball camp.
He never would've thought.
━━━
Skyscrapers loomed over the minuscule bus, with huge roads full of traffic. A bridge hung overhead, casting the bus into darkness for a moment. Jisung had managed to convince Felix to give him the window seat, and for a good reason. He had his face pressed into the glass, gaping at the sheer size of the buildings and roads.
His friend group was rather rich, so they weren't as shocked by the structures of the city, but to Jisung, it was like gazing upon the Eiffel Tower, which they've probably already seen too.
"I can't wait, I might piss myself," he squealed, shaking Felix by the shoulder.
Felix chuckled. "Are you really that excited? It's just volleyball camp. We play volleyball all the time."
Jisung grabbed Felix by the face and forced him to look at him. "Playing volleyball with the big leagues, Lixie. They're gonna teach us their tricks to becoming pro! And—and who knows what I might learn? I may go back home as the next Masahiro Sekita!"
Felix pressed his hand to Jisung's chest. "Whoa, whoa. Let's not reach that far now."
Jisung jutted out his bottom lip. "But it's possible."
Jeongin leaned over the back of his seat. "Come on, Sung. Yes, they're pros, but they're not national level. They're just college students."
"Any player higher than me is considered big leagues in my book," Jisung insisted. "Let me have my fun."
Seungmin pulled Jeongin back down in his seat. "Quit teasing him. This is his first time going."
As Seungmin and Jeongin went back and forth, the bus pulled off the main road and into a huge parking lot. Jisung pressed himself against the window again, limbs vibrating with excitement. A tall building stood over the parking lot, with the words 'Xiaxia Gymnasium' in big, bold letters at the entrance.
"We're here!" Jisung squealed, bouncing his legs.
The bus hissed to a slow stop, parked beside a row of buses from other schools. That was right—the Wildcats weren't the only team to attend this camp. A selection of five other schools had the pleasure of going.
And when Jisung sized up the other buses, a little bit of color drained from his face.
All buses for each school had a specific color to match their school's theme. The Wildcat's bus was blue. The Redjays were—obviously—red. But what really unsettled Jisung's stomach was the yellow bus parked at the end of the row.
The Stingers.
And Jisung prayed not to see him, but as they piled off the bus and gathered into a pool of different teams, he saw him.
There, stepping off the yellow bus with a cocky smirk, was Lee Minho.