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The first time Shiro sees Keith Kogane, they’re on the opposite side of the net.
It’s the last match of the season, the Cup Final. The team that wins the match, wins the Championship.
Shiro is at his second year as a player of Cucine Lube Civitanova Marche and he has still fresh the defeat of the year before, so he is going to do everything in his power to success this time. It’s his pride as opposite hitter that speaks for him.
Their opponent is the Itas Trentino Team. They are the winner of the previous year, but most of the players left at the end of the last championship and they have a brand new team. They can’t be underestimated, though. The previous two match hadn’t been easy, even if Shiro’s team was able to win both times.
“You know how they play,” Coach Iverson tells them, “do not concede them anything and close the match in three sets. You can do it.”
And for the first two sets, Shiro’s team is able to follow Iverson’s instructions. It incredibly amusing playing when everything goes smoothly. The opposite team isn’t bad, but they can’t find the right timing. And, from time to time, Shiro’s team is able to stand up and take the lead. Shiro himself put down a good amount of points.
“Show off,” Matt jokes.
“We’ll take that cup,” Shiro replies, “and the title of MPV.”
The years before, he watched as they awarded the opposite hitter of the other team. This time, that award will be Shiro.
The third set is almost like stealing candies to a child. The Itas Trentino loses all his motivation and they make two very bad mistakes. They look unable to collect themselves, until Shiro’s team finds leading the set (and the match) 10-2.
“The final of the championship should be better but, man, I won’t complain,” Matt comments. “The match is practically ours.”
Adam gives him a small pack on the neck. “Do not lose you focus. We still have fifteen points to make.”
“Let Shiro do those. He’s stealing the show,” Matt replies, and winks at him.
Shiro shrugs. “Fine by me, if you toss the ball as you should.”
Matt fakes annoyance. “I always do. I’m the setter of the USA National, do not forget that.”
A time out is requested from Itas Trentino, so Shiro and the others returns to their bench. Iverson has nothing to do to them. They’re doing their work. Just keep their rhythm and avoid the other team to stand up again.
“Have you seen Kolivan’s face?” Matt comments, nodding with his head at the coach of Itas Trentino. “He looks he’s ready to murder someone. I can’t image how his player might feel.”
“Do you want to lose the match to save them?” Shiro jokes.
“Yeah, sure, so then I’ll be the one getting killed by Iverson.”
But Shiro looks at the bench as they return on the field, and man, Kolivan looks pissed. He doesn’t have the friendliest face out of all the coaches, but when his team is playing bad, his face just turns into a demonical one. It said Kolivan is the best coach out there, and maybe it’s true, but Shiro’s happy not having to deal too much with him.
Once both teams are back on the field, Kolivan asks for a substitution. He made a couple on the first two sets, but this is the first time for the player that’s waiting next to the second referee. Shiro frowns. He doesn’t remember to have seen him before.
“They change the setter?” Adam asks.
“Unsurprisingly,” Matt comments. “He hasn’t get a set well done today.”
“Yeah, but risking so much at this point of the match…”
“They don’t have another choice. It’s all or nothing. Kolivan’s way.”
Shiro observes the new player. He looks young, both by his face and his height, definitely smaller than an average volleyball player. Dark hair surrounded his face, at the point that Shiro asks if they aren’t in the way of his sight. And he has the two most gorgeous blue eyes Shiro has ever seen.
“My God, Shiro has a gay disaster panic attack,” Matt exclaims, and he elbows Shiro. “Why have a player that plays good, when you can have a player who’s handsome.”
Shiro rolls his eyes. “I’m just try to understand if I saw him before.”
“And if you have his phone number,” Matt adds.
“He’s Keith Kogane,” Adam informs him. “He’s good. Kolivan used him in the past, a couple of time, with the lower tier teams. During the most important matches he entered only for serves and, to my knowledge, never against a top tier teams.”
“Kolivan must be desperate,” Matt comments.
“It doesn’t matter,” Shiro says. “Let’s keep our rhythm high and win this match.”
The next point after the time out goes to Itas Trentino. Shiro isn’t surprised, this is volleyball, and it’s pretty normal to score from time to time. It’s harder have such a long strike of points as they managed before. But he has to admit, his eyes turn a little too much on Keith Kogane.
The man is gorgeous, no doubt about that. And by the family name, at least he had Japanese heritage, just like Shiro. But, most of all, Keith walks on the field with confidence, as this isn’t his first important match and as his team isn’t loosing badly. Shiro is curious to see what Kogane can do.
He finds it soon enough. It’s Keith turns to serve, and he throws the ball directly against Shiro’s zone. Shiro blinks and remains still, as the ball passes right at his right and smashes against the field’s line. That was a perfect serve. He ignores Matt’s look as they return in position after the usual ritual.
It’s just a point.
Next serve is less precise, and Shiro is able to move to take it, but it turns out his timing is actually off: the ball hits his closed first and then speeds off towards the public. The serve has more strength that Shiro anticipates and he isn’t able to direction the ball at his setter.
“Shiro! Get your gay ass together!” Matt is less playful this time.
Shiro snorts at him and hopes that Kogane will change the direction of his serve this time so someone else can try to stop him. He doesn’t and Shiro swears under his breath as finally manages to take the ball and sent it, even if not at best, towards Matt. He is kind enough to set the ball for Shiro, who has every intention to make amend for his previous mistakes.
He jumps, looks at the triple block, and spikes the ball above it. Kogane is on the last line of the field and he takes the ball before it falls. Worse than that, he’s able at the same time to direction it perfectly to his own team’s opposite hitter, who scores.
It’s not just a point anymore.
Worse, Itas Trentino Team is regaining confidence. It’s not about Kogane anymore. Even when Shiro’s team manages to regain the serve turn, they are able to stop them from scoring twice in a row, while their blocks and their serves become more precise. They still have the upper hands, but the advantage is getting thinner and thinner.
“Okay, I’m getting angry,” Adam comments. He jumps and spikes: the ball escapes from the opponent’s Libero’s hands. “Try to save it.”
Never sends a challenge to Kogane: he rushes, he jumps on his team bench and he takes the ball before it lands, standing on his knees. And again, despite the incredible bad position, his set is perfect and Antok gains another point.
Kogane isn’t the good server. He’s the amazing setter. He’s probably because his young age that he hasn’t been playing much recently but damn, he’s good. Unlike the regular first-team setter, Kogane uses a lot more his middle blockers, and the opposite hitter when he can make pipes. Their way of playing becomes more various. It makes Shiro wonders what Kogane will do in two or three years, after gaining the experiences he lacks now.
“I can’t believe Kolivan has this ace upon his sleeves,” Matt grumbles. Kolivan’s face seems less dark now.
“Stay calm,” Iverson orders. “We may have caught by surprise by the fact that we don’t know their setter as better as the other player, but if you do what you know, you can win. We’re still head.”
Not for long, though. The third set score is draw right now and with the last point, Itas Trentino takes the first set point, and the occasion to prolong the match and have a hope of winning. Shiro isn’t going to permit it. He will finish the match know.
Matt tosses the ball to him while Adam lures the block on the other side. He can score. He hit the ball and before even notices, the ball returns to him, smashes against his shoulder and fall on the ground. Shiro lands and blinks, unable to process the fact someone blocked him out of nowhere and by himself.
No, not anyone. Kogane did it, and now he’s looking at Shiro from the other side of the net with a small smirk on his lips. Cheesy brat.
“You okay?” Matt asks.
“Yes. Never better.”
Shiro isn’t going to lose to Kogane, he decides. He isn’t going to lose to anyone. He can admit that he has a small admiration for Kogane. He’s definitely one of the best setter, better than Matt probably; his serves are wonderful and he manages to put down a couple of second touch attacks that catch their defense by surprise. And in one occasion he even spikes, just to show he can be a hitter if he wants too.
But he’s still too inexperience. He gets guts, that Shiro recognizes that much, but he still lacks the abilities to see the entire field. He sets the ball sometimes too low, hoping his hitters would be able to take it nevertheless, and he lack the way experienced setter manages to anticipate the blocks. He’s not at Shiro’s level yet. Kogane’ll get there, just not now. Not in this match.
At least, Shiro will end it before it happens.
The two teams are in a draw, and it’s Matt’s turn to serve. The serve is a float type, one Matt is very able to, and he doesn’t miss the chance to ace in the most important moment of the match.
Now they are 24-23.
Matt serves again, the opponent team spikes, Adam defenses so Matt can toss the ball again, and at Shiro. This is the occasion he’s waiting for. The triple block is in front of him, but Shiro isn’t going to risk and throw the ball to high and send it outside the field. He looks at the block, he looks at Kogane’s hands as they aren’t well placed, and smashes the ball right against them. The ball escapes from Kogane’s hand and he’s unable to control its direction.
The ball ends outside the field.
25-23, match point to Cucine Lube Civitanova Marche.
Shiro has just a second to exchange a look with Kogane, so Shiro can see his lost gaze still on the fallen ball, before Matt drags him back in the group hug for the victory.
“We did it! We did it!” he screams in Shiro’s ears. “And you get the MPV titles, you bastard.”
“I can’t say if you’re happy or not for me,” Shiro laughs.
They line next the net to greet the other time and Shiro gets his chance to shake hands with Kogane.
“Great match,” he says to him, smiling brightly.
Kogane grips Shiro’s hand without looking at him in the eyes, head lower. Shiro observes as he returns to his team’s bench and taking his backpack. Kolivan comes next to him, places a hand on his shoulder and whispers something to him. Kogane just scoffs.
“He’s a sore loser, uh,” Matt comments.
“He’s young,” Adam says. “He isn’t used to defeat.”
Shiro understands Kogane. He’s a sore loser too. He wouldn’t become so good if he wasn’t.
The rest of the evening makes Shiro almost forget about Kogane. Almost. He just has too things to do, the winning ceremony (he gets the MVP award), the party afterward and the subsequently drunkenness. He’s happy. They’re a good team.
Still, when he returns home, he’s lucid enough to open his laptop and search on youtube with the search word “Keith Kogane”. He finds only a couple of videos about him, so he has to go back and look for Itas Trentino’s match to see at his play again.
Someone already uploaded the final match and Shiro can see in HD and in slow motion the moment Kogane blocked his attack. But, mostly important, he can see in HD and in slow motion what Kogane can do with his hand. The way he touches the ball is soft, delicate, able to make the ball doing what he wants.
Shiro has the bad though of wanting to be that ball. I am a hopeless gay disaster, he thinks, remembering Matt’s jokes about it. Well, it isn’t his fault if Kogane is a gorgeous man and an amazing setter all in one person.
***
The second time Shiro sees Keith Kogane, they’re in the same side of the net.
Something Shiro doesn’t expect, at least not so soon. He would lie if he says he never imagines he and Kogane playing together. He thinks about it more than once, wondering how fun can be receiving Kogane’s sets. But he thinks he won’t happen for the time being.
He still has a two-years agreement with Cucine Lube Civitanova Marche and he’s grateful to the team for believing in him, so he doesn’t plan to change team soon. And Kolivan is a coach knowing for keeping his players as much as possible to make them grown, so it’s easy to assume he’s going to have Keith in his team as long as possible.
Shiro definitely doesn’t expect to see him as a player of the Japan National Volleyball Team.
He knows Kogane is half-canadian half-japanese, but he believes he chose to play for Canada, as he did in the junior teams. So Shiro has a very bad time to control his mouth from opening for the shock as Kogane enters in the room where the Japanese coach summons their first reunion before the team’s retreat in order to prepare for the World League.
“This is Keith Kogane,” the coach introduces to the oldest member of the team the newest arrival. “He owns a Japanese passport and he decides to play with us from now on.”
Kogane bows down. “I play in Italy, with the Itas Trentino Team. I’m a setter.” His Japanese is a little bit unsure, but the voice is steady. “My grandfather was Japanese. I was in the Canadian National Team before, because he used to live there with my father, but I saw the Japanese Team playing and I decided I prefer your style of playing. Nice to meet you all.”
“Thank you, Kogane-san. Please, sit down.”
The coach introduces other three new players and then explains about the retreat and how he’s going to organize their training and the matches they’ll face. Shiro isn’t listening anymore. He can’t take his eyes off Kogane and his suit. Kogane doesn’t turn to look at him, not even once, and Shiro doesn’t get the chance to speak with him at the end of the reunion,
Too bad.
They’ll have more days at the retreat, hopefully. Maybe Kogane hates him from their last match. Shiro thinks about Matt and about his idea that Shiro is able to charm anyone without even trying, but for some reason Shiro believes it isn’t true and it isn’t especially true for Kogane.
That night, he dreams of him. He dreams of them together in the field, and of Kogane setting the ball at him. It’s a perfect ball, curled in Shiro’s hand as he smashed it in the ground of the opposite field. He wakes up sweaty, after getting a sleepy orgasm because of it. Shiro looks at the sheet of his bed and sighs.
Now facing Kogane will be twice difficult. Well, maybe Kogane hating on him isn’t the worst thing in the world for now.
But it turns out the karma hates him too, because the coach puts him and Kogane in the same bedroom for the retreat. Shiro has the impression that the retreat won’t go as good as he anticipates.
“Which bed do you prefer?” Shiro asks, to avoid an embarrassing silence.
Kogane shrugs. “It’s the same.”
So Shiro takes the one next the bathroom door and starts unpacking his suitcase. Kogane does the same on his bed, and Shiro passes him a couple of hangers for the jackets.
“Thank you, Shirogane-san.”
“You can call me Shiro. Everyone call me that.”
“I know,” Kogane replies, and then he bits his lips. A slightly flush appears on his cheeks. “I mean, I saw the fans back in Italy.”
“Yeah, it’s a nickname I got there,” Shiro says. “It’s either that or samurai.”
“Samurai?” Kogane frowns.
“They love nicknames for players, but they have very limited fantasy. Go a little more famous and you will get one too.”
“Well, I hope it’s something better than Samurai. No offence.”
“Not taken.” He smiles: his embarrassment is almost gone. After all, Kogane doesn’t have to know he got an orgasm with a dream about it. “Can I call you Keith?”
“Sure.” There is a small smile on Keith’s lips.
Okay, so probably Keith doesn’t hate him. It was an irrational though – they are professional, and defeat happens – but Shiro is reassured nevertheless.
“So… how do you end playing in Italy?”
“My mom is a friend with Kolivan, so he saw me playing,” Keith explains. “I played in the Canadian Championship before, but it’s not like the Italian one. The level is a lot lower.”
“It’s true the Italian Championship is one of the best in the world,” Shiro confirms. “But it looks you don’t have problem with it.”
“Thanks, but you still kicked my ass.” Keith smirks. “I’ll get you next time, old timer.”
Shiro doesn’t doubt that. “How’s Kolivan as a coach?”
“Hard. But he’s the best. He’s one that cares about his player, but also realizes the team is more important, so yeah.”
“He looks scary from the outside.”
“He is.”
They leave the room to reach the gym. What Shiro understands from the way Keith trains, is that Keith is a hard-worker, restless, focused, but with no much patient. He has some self-discipline, and it is understandable since he’s a professional, but there is an annoyed frown on his face every time he has to do a basic exercise, or every time he’s put in a second line.
And Shiro should stop to look at him so much.
The worst part arrives during the exercise of attacks. The two setters are near the net, and they alternate tossing the ball at the other players, in line one after another. Shiro has no problem hit the ball with the usual setter – he has played with him for years at that point – but with Keith he just doesn’t manage to get the ball right.
Keith’s set are good. Wonderful, actually. At that’s the problem, Shiro realizes. He dreams about them too much. He had an orgasm over it and now his brain can’t concentrate. The ball arrives perfectly in his hand and he stops to enjoy the moment.
He doesn’t miss the disappointed frown on Keith’s face, but all Shiro can offer is a small, apologetic smile.
They return in the room in silence. Keith takes off the shirt and without a word enters in the bathroom. Shiro ears the sound of the shower. He sighs.
“I’m sorry,” he says, when Keith returns in the room.
“It’s not your fault,” he replies. He doesn’t look at him.
After dinner, two of Shiro’s teammate call for him. “We can stay out until ten o’clock. The other are going to see a movie in the television room, we think about taking something to drink at the café at the corner. Do you come?”
Shiro reflects for a second. “No, thanks.”
“Okay. See you.”
He nods and leaves to check on the television room: it’s dark and small, and Shiro doesn’t see Keith in there. It isn’t in their room. Well, he and Keith aren’t friend, and are teammates from a couple of days. He doesn’t have to inform Shiro about his movements.
With a last shrug, Shiro heads towards the gym. He’s still angry about what happened at the daily training and it’s a habit of his making some more exercise before going to sleep.
He’s surprised to see that the lights are on and there are rumors inside. Carefully, he checks from the main door. Keith is there, with his tracksuit on. He’s setting the ball against the wall, with small and fast movements. The ball jumps in and fort, and Keith hurries to take it.
“Ehi,” Shiro calls, once the ball fells on the ground.
Keith, who is about to collect it, stops and looks at him with big eyes. “Ehi,” he replies, with a little smile.
“I was thinking to do some extra training,” Shiro says, getting near. “To amend the disaster of today.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Keith hurries to affirm. “My sets weren’t good enough.”
“That’s not true,” Shiro replies. “But let’s say they weren’t… one of the best coach in the world used to say that hitters don’t need to talk about the set. They need to make it work nevertheless. And I wasn’t able to.”
“I think I know that coach,” Keith smiles. He takes the ball in his hand and smacks it a couple of time. “Do you want another shot?”
“With pleasure.”
This time, in the silence and the emptiness of the gym, things go smoothly. Keith’s sets are perfectly, and Shiro manages to concentrate on them and them only, putting aside any other thoughts he has in his mind. He can see the opposite field perfectly as he jumps and then the ball arrives directly in his hand so he can smash it exactly in the point he chooses.
“Wow,” Keith exclaimed from time to time, when Shiro manages to get the corner of the field, or the line.
“It’s easier without blocks.”
“Still,” Keith murmurs. He throws the ball below him, then jumps. His right hand reaches for it, the point of the fingers brushing it. Shiro expects to him to set the ball with one hand, instead, with a fast movement of his writs, Keith hits the ball and smashes it on the opposite field. “I’m not so good at directioning it.”
Shiro smiles. “You hit too much for a setter’s standard. I should look my back.”
Keith collects another ball and smirk. “Maybe.”
“You know that your sets were perfect today, don’t you?” Shiro says. “I was distracting.”
“You’re not the only one,” Keith replies. “Sometimes I’m… a little eager.”
“I’ve noticed,” Shiro admits. “So, can I give you a piece of advice?”
“Sure.”
“Patience yields focus.”
Keith frowns. “What does it mean?”
“Just think about all the time you get annoyed at simple tasks or training exercises, and try to see them as a patience exercises instead. Your focus during the actually match will improve.”
“You really got me too much,” Keith comments. He looks a little proud though.
“I may… watch you a little too much today, I confess.” He takes the ball from Keith’s hand and starts moving it from a hand to another. “But I thought before about how nice would be playing with you.”
Keith’s eyes widened. “For real?”
Shiro nods. “I didn’t expect to have the occasion so early, you know? I was certainty I would see you again on the opposite side of the net during the Championship.”
“Bolt to you thinking we wouldn’t meet during the World League too. I was in the Canadian National team, you know.”
Keith is joking, so Shiro fakes regrets. “My deepest apologies for this lack of respect.”
Keith laughs. “Do you want to know my part of the truth, then?”
“Uh, sure.”
“You are the reason I decided to play for the Japanese National Team,” Keith states. “I want to play with you since forever.”
“Oh…” Shiro feels his ears burning. “Really? I’m… I’m flattered.”
“Yeah, well,” Keith nods. “I saw you playing, once. You probably didn’t remember, it was like, six or seven years ago. I was with my mother and he brought me to a volleyball match, and you were playing there.”
“Did I win?” Shiro asks, and regrets a second later. He doesn’t remember, but he wants to.
“Yes, you do. But I fall in love with the way you play, the brightness in your eyes… I played back then, but after my father’s death I lost some motivations… It’s strange, but that day I really think something like, wow, I really want to do everything I can so I can play with him.”
Shiro is there, silenced. He loses all his word. The ball fells from his hands.
“Sorry. It’s probably very creepy from my part.”
“No! No, it isn’t!” Shiro’s answer is a little too eager, a little too fast, but he can’t help him. “It’s kinda of cute, actually. I’m sorry I don’t remember it.”
Keith shrugs. “We only shook hand briefly.”
“Still… I’d like to remember it. And I will glad to play with you.”
“I will have to wait, though.” Keith collects the ball and places it back in the basket. “I’m not at your level yet. The last match made it clear, and I still have to crawl my spot as regular first-team setter.”
“It’s not true you aren’t at my level yet. You just lack a little bit of experience.”
“Which is the reason why I’m not at you level yet,” Keith confirms.
“I am pretty sure you’ll be the regular first-team setter at the end of this retreat,” Shiro states. “But if it doesn’t happen… I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you to reach me.”
Keith looks at him, and smiles. “Get ready, old timer.”
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