Akaashi Keiji could feel the warmth of the setting sun hit the back of his head as he slumped in the train seat, hugging his bag close to his chest. He would have thought that he would enjoy the peace and quiet now that the third years had graduated, but the lack of noise and snorting laughter was... perturbing, almost.

And—maybe—it was a little lonely, too.

The train lulled him to a state of near sleep, his tired body swaying side to side ever so slightly as he traveled back to his station. His house wasn't too far from his stop—just a ten minute walk away.

The first years they'd gotten today—to put it politely—were nothing short of a disaster. None of them were bad people by any means, but all—and Akaashi meant every single one of them—had terribly hot tempers and riled each other up too easily. He had spent half an hour breaking up a fight between two of them when they had dove for the same ball during a practice match. At least he had Anahori and Onaga by his side, two steadfast presences in the absolute chaos the new team was descending into.

Akaashi reached for his phone, checking the amount of stops he had left, when the train slowed to a halt. The doors opened up, and more people came in than they did go out.

"Ah, crap!"

He glanced up to see a red-haired woman in her early twenties grimacing at a torn stocking. She pulled her overcoat down, trying to cover up the embarrassing tear, but it remained quite obvious. A bespectacled man stared at her exposed thigh for too long before turning away red. Her hair color was quite unconventional, but she was pretty. Konoha would've probably asked for her number despite the age difference.

Deftly, Akaashi removed his sports jacket and handed it toward the woman. "Here. You can use this."

She looked conflicted at his offer. "I really shouldn't... Are you sure...?"

"Yes."

The woman smiled before sitting down next to him, laying his jacket over her lap. "Thank you. Are you a regular commuter?"

Akaashi nodded. "I am. I've been taking this line for almost three years now."

"Awesome! I've only taken this train a few times—I moved here not long ago. Also..." She dipped her chin. "I'm Obata Kazue. I'm training to be a forensic scientist."

"Akaashi Keiji. I'm a third year in Fukuroudani High."

"I suspected!" Obata exclaimed. "I knew those colors looked familiar. You guys were runner-up in the Spring Tournament, right? I watched the live broadcast."

"That's correct. We were two points off from winning the third set."

"Ahh, what a shame. You know, I only tuned in this year because my alma mater—Karasuno—actually managed to qualify. The last time that happened was when I was still in high school. They made top eight in the nation. Maybe it's weird of me, but... I feel proud."

Akaashi gave her a small smile. "It's not weird. You should be proud—top eight is no easy feat."

"This coming from top two." Obata smirked. "It was a good game, by the way. You guys did well." She looked around, frowning. "Most of them graduated, didn't they? That's why you're alone, right?"

It was a rather presumptuous guess, and Akaashi was surprised that she had hit the nail on the head. She had said something about training in forensics, so maybe it was just in her blood. "I—yes. That's... You're right."

"That's a shame, but I wouldn't be too sad. You'll be out of school soon and university life is way different from high school. You'll be able to find more time to hang out with your friends."

"Maybe," said Akaashi, polite even wading through the throes of his insecurities. Perhaps he was just too asocial for his own good, but he didn't want to make new friends. All he wanted was Bokuto to be by his side. It wasn't realistic, but he couldn't help but yearn for it anyway. Bokuto had signed with the Jackals this year and would be making his debut in the upcoming v-league season. Meanwhile, Akaashi would finish slaving through high school and spend the next three or four years slaving through university.

Obata regarded him, noting the way his brow creased as he contemplated. "You look like you've aged several years," she remarked.

"I'm just thinking," Akaashi sighed. He always was—Bokuto said that he thought too much at times.

"About what?"

"About life."

"Thinking or overthinking?" teased Obata, grinning. "Because there's a difference."

He blushed. "The latter..."

"If you look for something that's not there," she said. "You'll miss what's right in front of your face. I learned that lesson when I was about your age." Sheepishly, she scratched her cheek. "I'm nowhere near as level-headed as you are. I was skittish when I graduated high school. Society convinced me that I couldn't mess up—ever—or else I'd be a failure working minimum wage to make ends meet for the rest of my life. That I had to know what I was doing the moment I set foot into university. That I had to graduate as fast as possible and throw myself into the workforce. Get a job, have a family, retire. It sounds simple on paper, but it's really not." Obata gazed at him. "I ditched a law degree for business, and then ditched business for forensics. But fast forward a couple of years, and I'm doing fine for myself. I'll be straight with you—it doesn't get easier as the years go by. But that doesn't mean you don't have time. Especially now, before you start working. Give yourself room to breathe. Not everyone knows what they're doing when they enter university, and that's fine. Don't be so eager to join the workforce so soon—it can be hell."

"I..." Akaashi trailed off. "Thank you."

He didn't think her words would help, but, strangely, they did. The rock that had been sitting in his stomach since the beginning of the year subsided somewhat, the boulder shrinking to a pebble.

The train slowed to a stop.

"Ah, this is where I get off." Obata handed his sports jacket back to him. "Thank you. You're a good kid, Akaashi-kun. Try not to overthink too much, yeah?"

Then she was gone like a specter in the wind. Akaashi glanced down at his jacket, finger tracing the yellow stripe across the front.

Time.

He looked out the window. It was nearly dark.

The city passed by in a blur of lights as nocturnal life stirred awake.