I'm A Hallucination - I'm Not Even Here

 

 

Changed into a pair of black sweatpants and t-shirt she'd borrowed from the boys' lost and found bin, Hanabusa tied a matching hoodie around her waist. Putting her belongings down on the edge of the raised platform used as a stage when the need called for it, she placed an A-4 notepad and pencil case down by a stack of books she’d checked out of the library earlier that day. Catching sight of the Captain exiting the changing room before any of his team, the slightly shorter girl held her hand up by her chest to get his attention. When he made a bee-line for her across the empty space filled with a winter chill, she itched the hairline behind her right ear.

 

“How do you prefer to be addressed?”

 

Surprised that was the first thing she had to ask, Kita spoke. “Whatever is fine.”

 

“Shin Kun?” Receiving a look which said that was definitely not what he had in mind, Hanabusa huffed a brief laugh. “I could have called you ‘Whatever Kun’.”

 

“I’m still you’re senior, y’know?”

 

“Yeah, Ojiro Senpai said so.”

 

“Senpai is fine.”

 

“Captain Sama?”

 

“Are you trying to irk me?”

 

“Nah, I’m just testing the waters.” Wetting her lips, Hanabusa glanced away to inspect the entirety of the preposterous space. From what she read in her extended bathroom break during the last class before the end of the school day, it was noted that most practice spaces for high schoolers was half of what Inarizaki had. “Kita San, would it be okay if I set up a camera to record today’s practice?”

 

“I’m sure Coach Oomi took our camera in to be fixed.”

 

“Oh, no. I borrowed one from the performing arts club because I didn’t know if you had one at all.”

 

“We.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“If ‘we’ have one.”

 

For some reason, the remark took a vicious grip on Hanabusa’s heart and squeezed as if it was never going to let go. Face heating, the newcomer gestured to the stage and made sure to avert her eyes. “I wanted to record the practice so I can study it later.”

 

Kita looked to where the girl had pointed and made a mental note of the small set-up in the centre of the raised platform; her writing material, the stack of books with titles such as Volleyball 101, Volleyball Strategies and Plays, and Tips For Improving Your Teamwork, plus a plastic crate of drinks he presumed were collected from the vending machines.

 

“You really don’t do things by half, do ya…” Kita cocked his head a fraction only to ask her the same question she’d asked him a few minutes before. “And how do we address you?”

 

“I’m not a fan of the stuffy hierarchy BS, so my first name is fine.”

 

Taken aback by the mild attitude which was nothing like what he had previously been at the brunt of, Kita furrowed his brow. “You adapt quickly.”

 

“Like I said to Suna and Osamu earlier, I don’t see the point of being overly friendly just ‘cause that’s what I’m supposed to do. But we’re in the same club now, so I’d rather be informal and comfortable than having people walk on eggshells around me.”

 

“That’s very considerate of you.”

 

“No need to snark me.”

 

“I wasn’t.”

 

“Before you start,” hearing the caterwauling coming from the locker room, Hanabusa inclined her head so far she had to bend at the waist. “I’d like to say I’m sorry for the attitude I gave you yesterday. I know it’s no excuse, but I’m having a bit of a rough time at the minute. Please accept my apology.”

 

“I didn’t really think anything of it. Of course you’re going to be in a bad mood if you constantly have to change schools and have to deal with things on your own.” Using the tips of his fingers, he patted the crown of her head twice. “C’mon, don’t bow to me over something like that, Tanuki Chan.”

 

Straightening up with a pout, Hanabusa’s crossed arms almost disappeared under her bust when she gave the older boy a side-wards glower from under narrowed brows. “Calling me silly nicknames after you just asked how I wanted to be addressed; you’re the worst of the lot, aren’t you, Captain Sama?”

 

Eyes closed shut with a serene smile, Kita nodded. “Of course – I am the leader of the best.”

 

Falling out into the chilly air of the gym, the first-string were groaning complaints for the temperature until all eyes landed on their Captain and the new manager in close proximity. “Getting reacquainted with your sister-date?” Atsumu weaved his head from side to side as he dashed towards the pair and loomed over them.

 

“It’s dive-drills and you’re sadly mistaken if you think I’ve forgotten that I gave you fifty extra yesterday.”

 

“Uwah-tch. Meanie.” The blonde twin slunk back into the fray as Hanabusa started walking towards the platform.

 

Before she could escape, Kita addressed the group. “Today is the official join-date of our first manager, Hanabusa Reika Chan. Please line up and greet her properly.”

 

“E-eh?” Gripping the fabric over her hips, Hanabusa looked over her shoulder with her eyes bulging and the familiar clench around her muscles. “There’s r-really no need to do tha-”

 

In one straight line along the back marking on the floor, the team bowed ninety degrees and bellowed in unison. “Welcome to Inarizaki volleyball club! We look forward to your support! Thank you for working with us, Hanabusa San!”

 

Eyes beginning to sting, she turned her cheek at the sight with pinched lips. Sniffling her nose clear of the irritating tingle, Hanabusa peeked to the boys in the corner of her sight. “O-Ossu…Don’t make me regret it, and work hard, right?”

 

Chuckling at the exchange, Aran held his hand up for the words. “Way to march to your own beat, Hanabusa Chan. Most people would say a shy ‘thank you for having me’ in your situation.”

 

“I’m neither shy, nor most people.” Scratching the back of her head, she glanced up at the halogen strip-lights only to become dizzy. Lowering her gaze to the group of boys in exposing sportswear, the newcomer pinched her lips in a mumble. “I look at this as something that should be equally beneficial to both you and I, so why should I speak in flowers? You get what I was telling you, right? Let’s get better together, is all I’m trying to say.”

 

“Pahaha, Aran San drew a speech out of her.”

 

The words from the cheery Libero flicked the female's feminine switch off. “If that’s a speech to you, I really feel sympathy for your future wife.”

 

“Puuuft.”

 

“You just got roasted on the first day,” the Setter barked an obnoxious laugh as he goaded his smaller teammate.

 

Tucking stray hairs back from her face, Hanabusa's nose crinkled. “And that wasn’t a roast, it was common sense. Do you have any of that whatsoever?”

 

Biting at the remark from the newcomer, Atsumu’s eye zeroed in on the girl and his brows furrowed enough to shadow his redirected glare. “Are you trying to start a fight?

 

“I won’t start one, but I’ll always finish it, so why don’t you hurry and start your dives, Atsumu Kun?” Shooing her hand, she tilted her chin up to peer down her nose at the boy she was visibly agitating. “You don’t want your team to be waiting on you, do you?”

 

“Haaargh?”

 

“She does kinda have a point…”

 

“She’s definitely a sadist…”

 

“Or a masochist - if she’s trying to pick a fight with him.”

 

Running around the perimeter of the lined court, the team went in groups of three to dive and waited ten seconds before the next could go in order to prevent anyone from getting a face full of sneaker. Coming up to the woman making notes on a pad held on her forearm, Osamu hummed when he was beside of her. “You really shouldn’t rile him too much. He’s not very good at expressing his emotions in a positive way-”

 

“-You’re holding people up.”

 

“What?”

 

“Are you two really that close you wanna do extra punishments together?”

 

Huffing, Osamu dropped to the floor chest-first and slid before hopping straight to his feet and running with the rest. Hanabusa made a mark on her notebook and watched the next trio as they passed, doing the same again.

 

Finishing with the dive-drills, Kita called for simultaneous passes. Before they could get into the exercise, Hanabusa quietly asked the Captain as he passed. “What data do you have on everyone?”

 

“Data? We’ve been going off videos mostly taken by other people.”

 

“What about your height growth, and weight fluctuations, or how many attempts are successful, or-”

 

“-You’re really into this now, aren’t you?”

 

“If I do something, I don’t like to do it half-assed. Having that kind of information will help me help you.”

 

“After practice, I’ll have them line up to be measured and weighed if that’s really what you want.”

 

“You said you wanted my help, so I’ll give it to you if you help me get what I need.”

 

Turning to the team, Kita yelled, “Hanabusa Chan wants to know your biometrics when we’re done with drills.”

 

Undoing the string of his shorts, Atsumu thrust his hips forward. “Measure thi-”

 

Cracked over the back of the head by his twin, Osama glowered at his sibling writhing in a crouched position. “Do you always have to be so goddamn crude?”

 

Hanabusa was cornered by man-sweat and looming bodies in their swap of court positions. “Ignore that idiot.”

 

Peering up at the team huffing from the strenuous exercise, she gathered that they were trying to put her at ease but Jesus fucking Christ, couldn’t they do that from another three feet away? They stunk to the high heavens, but her body was betraying her nose. At any time, being smothered by pheromones would be difficult enough but it was the week before her monthly's. She didn’t need to be any more turned on than usual – especially, definitely, most absolutely, not there.

 

Catching the scrunch of her expression and her head turning away, Ginjima lifted his arm and sniffed his pit. “Goddamn, I’m ripe.” Putting his arm down, he backed away. “If I go home smelling like this, my ma and sisters will make me sleep outside.”

 

“Again,” Akagi smirked before wafting the neckline of his own t-shirt and grimacing.

 

“It’s no joke washing off on a communal balcony, you prick.”

 

“Or ‘no prick', in this weather,” Akagi joked the same way he always would.

 

“Oi, there’s a girl here now, so cool it with the-"

 

“-Don’t mind me; nothing you could say would even scratch the surface of my lack of sensibilities.” Finishing scrawling notes about the passing boys, Hanabusa wafted her free hand while keeping her eyes down. “Carry on as you always would: I’m not even here...I’m a hallucination...”

 

“Senpai knows her memes.”

 

“I AM the Meme Queen, number 15-uh, Akagi Senpai.”

 

“Whooghhuuu~ she’s learning!”

 

“I’m not a Tamogachi or a Furbee.” Quirking her right brow, the girl looked to the Libero. “I see a lot of faces and get told a lot of names every few months – when I give nicknames, I’m not trying to be impolite...for the most part.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to make fun of you...”

 

Eyes shaded as she reached behind her, Hanabusa took a grip on a carton. Tossing it in an underhanded motion with a exponentially high arc, the girl crossed one leg over the other as she kept her line of sight on the boy she was speaking with. “Even if you were trying to pick fun from me, I’m all out of my usual retaliation. I’m all dumbed out from my female classmates, so please save your breath.”

 

“Are you being picked on, Hanabusa Chan?”

 

The girl handed out drink bottles without a change in expression. “What new student doesn’t hear a few cruel words?” Passing a breakfast bar to the member looking a little worse for wear, she jut her chin up. “Still, words are just that: they know nothing about me, and I have no desire to know them, so I really don’t give a shit about what they have to say about me, or to me.” Finishing handing out the snacks she’d bought, she slid off the platform. “It’s a non-issue either way.”

 

“Anyone else feel that chill?” Glancing to the boy next to him, the Middle Blocker grunted under his breath. “That's pure ice.”

 

“Told you she’s an S.”

 

---

 

Having the team lined up, Hanabusa rested her notepad on her inner forearm as she spoke. “Name and birthday, please?”

 

“Kita Shinsuke, July 5th. Third year.”

 

“Okie~ up you get,” Hanabusa gestured to the scales. Reading the screen stating digital numbers, she looked up to make a note of the rest of the data down in her notebook. “Heel to the wall and back straight - no tip-toeing.” Popping the stick down to the top of his crown, Hanabusa’s face twitched.

 

“Is there a problem?” Kita's line of sight stayed true to where he stood.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Then why do you look angry?”

 

“You’re half a centimetre taller than me.”

 

“Is that really an issue?”

 

“For some reason, it kinda annoys me.”

 

Gentle eyes turned up. “I’m a little glad.”

 

“Tch, next.”

 

“Omimi Ren; February 17th.”

 

The number two bib went through the motions as Kita had, except Hanabusa was unable to read the height on the ruler. “Omimi Senpai…I can’t seen what it says from down here without my contacts in. Please can you read it to me?”

 

“I’m sorry. It’s 191.5.”

 

“Uwah, impressive. Congratulations.” Rubbing her face, the girl cooed.

 

“Uh, I didn’t do anything…”

 

“Next.”

 

“Ojiro Aran; April 4th.”

 

“Hehh~ Senpai, your birthday is a few days before mine.”

 

“Hoiii~” he called out in sing-song and the pair hopped to give double high-fives.

 

Halfway down the queue, the twins and Suna inspected the comfortable scene with furrowed brows. “Why they hell are they so close?”

 

Suna rested his back against the wall and glanced to the ceiling in thought. “Probably because he scared off her shady cab driver last night.”

 

“And he was the one to actually help her get away from us…” Akagi rebuffed a stray ball heading towards the new manager.

 

“Don’t say it like we’re weirdos.”

 

“We kinda are though.” Suna mused as he continued to look up in thought. “Kita San pretty much kidnapped her and we’re all accessories to putting her in a dark store cupboard after she fainted. Atsumu even called her heavy-”

 

“-She is - bitch knocked me down when she fell on me. And you picked her up; you should know as well as anyone.”

 

“So what? Why would you make a remark about a girl’s weight?”

 

“Shut ya gob, Prince fuckin’ Charmin’.”

 

“And to top it off, Osamu pretty much sexually harassed her before dinner on her first day; Ginjima is a flying monkey who appears just to kick people, I got caught looking at naked statues, and also, Atsumu elaborated on what was meant by a kotatsu when concerning the female body.”

 

Avoiding eye contact, Osamu furrowed his brows with a mumble. “I wouldn’t go as far as sexual harassment. It was an accident.”

 

“Yeah, I really wouldn’t be surprised if she thought we were all weirdos.” Itching his middle fingerpads with his thumb nails, Suna gave a lethargic shrug. “Or just plain perverts.”

 

Hands on his hips, Atsumu stood triumphantly and wobbled his head with closed eyes. “She’s here isn’t she? Doesn’t that say more about her than it does us?”

 

“Your ability to shift blame to anyone but yourself is absolutely astounding.”

 

“Next.”

 

“Miya Atsumu; October 5th.”

 

“Scales.” Doing as he was told, the Setter stepped up onto the platform which added another inch and a half to his height. Crouching down to read the display, Hanabusa felt the top of her head tickle.

 

“While you’re down there.”

 

Looking up, she saw the arm weighing her crown down while the boy it belonged to made faces, his line of sight on his friends to his left. Standing up straight, Hanabusa’s eye-line levelled with his collarbones. “Can I see your hand, please?”

 

“Which one?”

 

“The one you don’t set with.”

 

“I can use both.”

 

“Then the one you jack off with.”

 

“E-heh-heh~”

 

Holding out his left hand, Hanabusa took the back of it in her own palm. Thumb pushing into the muscle between his thumb and index finger as her digits locked onto the side of his palm, the taller boy writhed and jolted as if he was being electrocuted when she applied slight pressure.

 

“I’m all for jokes - I love jokes - but don’t try to humiliate me, Barry. Look who’s on their knees; it isn’t me, so while ‘you’re’ down there...” Expression neutral, Hanabusa inclined her head to the boy rolling around on his rear, whining and yelping while she kept her grip with little effort. “If you try to fuck with me, you’re gonna get it right back, ya little shit.”

 

Contorted as he tried to find a way to ease the volts running up his arm and throughout his body, Atsumu shrieked. “B-Barry? Who the hell is that? AH-ah-atch-you’re hurting me.”

 

“I know.” Letting go of the spasming Setter, the manager straightened up. “The rest of you can keep your blow-job pantomiming internal until I’m done measuring and weighing, right?”

 

A unanimous “Yes”, echoed and the girl raised her foot a little in threat to kick the blond twin. “We haven’t got all night. Shift it.” Clearing her throat, she called out. “Next.”

 

“Suna Rintaro; January 25th.” Crouching down to read the scales, Hanabusa wrote in her notebook.

 

Forcing himself to fix his horrendous posture just for the task, the Middle Blocker spoke down to the crown of silver hair – his height a vantage point for any straight teen boy. “I did tell you he was an idiot.”

 

Struggling to spring upright as she had before, the girl put her free hand out for support when she felt her knee threaten to give way. Reaching for the wall, her balance teetered and her palm landed on the Middle Blocker’s stomach.

 

She turned her face away when her brain registered the muscle-tone under the thin T-shirt. “Sorry. My bad.”

 

“I didn’t even feel it." He started off with his genuine thoughts but as soon as her eyes landed on his at that angle, Suna threw himself to the side as if he was trying to block a spastic shot. "Sorry, do you need a hand up?”

 

“Nope,” came out in a higher key than she’d ever plan to use. “No. No, I’m fine, thanks.”

 

Mind whizzing from the sudden use of muscles she wasn’t used to using any more, the show of force she’d had to make with the bumblebee, and the dizzying stench of pheromones, Hanabusa held onto the wall as she waited for the next boy to step up. This was any teen girls dream, to be a few inches from prime, sweating, athletic sports club members but Hanabusa felt something dark niggling in the back of her brain. Something sinister lurking in her nerves, just waiting for the right time to take a bite out of her and embarrass her in front of everyone.

 

“Someone take...t-take a note of Os…” Vision swishing, Hanabusa turned away. Clenching her fist against the wall, the other gripping the fabric at her waist, her head hung.

 

To her right, Akagi caught the teeter and held his hands out at the ready, “Do you need something, Hana Chan?”

 

Shaking her head and swiping away an out-held drink away, she wheezed. “Where is the bathroom?”

 

Weight lifted from her legs, the girl saw the Libero and Wing Spiker rescind from her view as she practically floated backwards through a set of double doors and down a narrow corridor. “The bathroom is in there,” a hand held open the main barrier. “Will you be okay on your own? We don’t have any other girls to help y-”

 

“I’ll be fine. I just need a moment.” Gently wafting away the arm under hers that had as good as picked her up and carried her to the restroom without so much as asking, Hanabusa shuffled into the stall and locked the door. “Could you wait outside, please? I don’t want you to hear if I end up puking.”

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

“Stop na-nagging me-” Wretching cut off the end of the command.

 

---

 

Finishing wiping away the spit and bile she’d upchucked with wet tissue and hand soap, Hanabusa fixed her hair as best she could and popped one of the hard-boiled mints from her pocket into her mouth before exiting the restroom. Sucking as much air into her lungs as was possible, the girl rested her back against the wall of the dark, narrow corridor. Trying to sooth her nerves, she caught something from the corner of her eye a few yards down. Staring at the lurking figure, she tweaked her thumb pads against the outside of her index knuckles. “Under any other circumstances, I would be very concerned about a guy waiting for me outside the bathroom in the dark.” Breathing beginning to regulate and body temperature not causing her skin to itch so much, Hanabusa advanced for the boy who’d helped her get to privacy. “I know I have a habit of getting lost, but a gym isn’t exactly a maze.”

 

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t fall down and have nobody to help you.”

 

“What, ‘you’d go into the ladies room for me?”

 

Inspecting the expression as best he could in what little light there was, the volleyball member quirked his brow and pushed himself off the opposite wall he had been waiting against. “Why does that thought make you smirk?”

 

“Because there’s two types of teen boys: those who can’t wait to sneak a peek into a female restroom; and those who are downright terrified of them, is all.” Now standing by the lurker, the light spilling through the glass-topped doors, Hanabusa inspected the shaded expression of Osamu.

 

Becoming uncomfortable under the intense gaze with the lack of speech, Osamu averted his eyes and stepped onto his back foot. “W-what is it?”

 

Remaining quiet for a few more seconds, the girl suddenly shrugged and took her hand out of her pocket in the same motion. “Would you like a mint?”

 

Smacked by the deadpan response which had nothing to do with anything that had happened in the last ten minutes, the air deflated from the Wing Spiker. Eye twitching, he reached ahead and grabbed the door handle. “Don’t just stare at someone so intently and then ask shit like that.” Pushing open the barrier, Osamu shook his head with a grumble. “An’ are ya trying to say my breath stinks?”

 

“I couldn’t tell you from this distance.” Ducking under the outstretched arm holding the top of the door open, Hanabusa blinked hard as her vision tried to get used to the blinding gym lights.

 

Stopped in his tracks in the threshold, Osamu frowned at the female’s back as she made her way to his team fussing over her wellbeing. His mind went over her words once, twice, and then again for good measure. ‘I couldn’t tell you from this distance’: What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was she messing with him? Was it just a shitty way of phrasing? Was it a veiled invitation? He really had no goddamn clue what went through her head. The fact he was so out of her stratosphere was probably for the best, he almost instantly came to realise when he glanced back to the group and she was using two straws to push her nostrils up via the inside of her bottom lip. Blank stare and flush across her cheeks, she looked like a booze-sloshed old man who’d just lost his job as she was now telling a ridiculous pun.

 

Clicking his tongue off his teeth, the silver haired twin mumbled under his breath, “what a freaking nutcase...”

 

Just as he was about to write her off as a complete lunatic with a multiple personality disorder, he noticed her left hand clenched tight behind her back and away from the eyes of the others, her fist pulsing and her nails digging into her skin of her palm. Regardless of the act which would likely draw blood if continued much longer, a dopey smile kept the team from questioning her wellness, turning the congregation into a circle of dumb jokes made for her benefit.

 

Prompted by Kita wagging Osamu over, Hanabusa glanced over her shoulder to the Wing Spiker. Eyes softer, she beckoned him to join them. Tucking stray hairs away from her face with her right hand, she hid her left in her pocket. "Did you meet a ghost in the hallway? You look absolutely perturbed."

 

Eyes locked on the girl, Osamu's mouth refused to open. Breaking the moment, Riseki tilted his head. "I've never heard someone use perturbed in real life conversation."

 

Catching something off about their number 11, Kita quirked his brow while inspecting the more personable twin from head to toe and then back again, "are you okay, Osamu?"

 

On the verge of caterwauking, Atsumu flung himself in front of their new manager. Eyes almost rolling to the back of his head in his scenery-chewing, the Setter took on a very odd bodily weave. "What did you do to my less better looking twin out there, you wench?"