On his last day, Shouyou made the best kind of mistake.
He’d joined Kageyama on the exercise field regularly. So far this had mostly consisted of more races, a few tosses of the spear-like javelin, and one ill-advised wrestling match that hadn’t been very strenuous, as far as wrestling went, but had still ended with Shouyou panting and red in the face, pinned to the ground under Kageyama within moments. It was not a bad place to end up, but it was still dangerous for Shouyou’s resolve, and he hadn’t asked to try again.
His attempts to persuade Kageyama into showing him how to throw a discus were a different matter.
Shouyou had been fascinated by the sport, unable to stop thinking about it in the days since he’d first seen Kageyama’s perfect form as he moved through the motions. But six days was hardly enough time to grasp the basics, let alone become competent. This made Shouyou very impatient.
“Not that one,” Kageyama said, the instant Shouyou went to grab a full weight discus, instead of one of the lighter practice versions he’d been using up until that day.
“It’ll be fine,” Shouyou said. He lifted the disk and puffed out his cheeks, adjusting his stance at the surprising heaviness.
“Oy.” Kageyama squinted at him. “Do you remember when we first raced, and I told you to take off your shoes or you might fall, and you said—”