Haikyuu: Crimson Ascent

Chapter 6: Birthday Evening, Spring Morning

More than a month has passed since I arrived to live with my grandparents.

Time moved slowly here—quiet and unurgent, like the wind that moved through the open windows every morning. I was supposed to return immediately after exam results came out, but the quiet pace of this place beckoned. I remained. My grandparents didn't question why. They simply received me with hearty meals, gentle smiles, and tales from the garden.

Today, I was eighteen.

The smell of pancakes and toasted bread filtered upstairs to my room before I'd even opened my eyes. There were some birds chirping outside. The early spring sun had come up, bathing the floor in soft golden light. I lay under the covers for a minute or so, hearing the peaceful sounds of the country before finally getting out of bed.

"Breakfast's ready!" my grandmother's voice echoed up from downstairs.

I half-stumbled into the kitchen wearing loose sweatpants and a hoodie, still sleep-deprived, to be greeted by an already set table: a mountain of pancakes, scrambled eggs, toast with butter and jam, and a fresh fruit bowl.

"Well, one way to ruin me," I said, laughing, as I sat down.

"You only turn eighteen once," she replied, placing a glass of orange juice in front of me.

My grandfather lifted his eyes from his regular position at the table, coffee foaming in front of him. "You're officially a grown-up now. Don't let it go to your head."

"I'll try my best," I laughed.

We dined in comfortable silence. The windows were open, inviting in the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass. Spring had come in completely now—the kind that doesn't tease with possibility, but delivers it all at once. The trees outside were lush and full, and the sky was a smooth, unbroken blue.

After breakfast, my grandmother produced a tiny vanilla cake with whipped cream and strawberries atop it. Homemade, naturally. Frosting sloped to one side and candle at a wobbly angle—but it was wonderful.

"One candle," she said. "Keep your wish simple."

I grinned and leaned forward.

Please may they remain healthy and happy for a long, long time.

Then I blew it out.

The afternoon was uneventful. I took a walk along the old path behind the house, hands in pockets, taking in the fresh air. The stream where I used to skip rocks was still there, clear and shallow, with wildflowers along the bank. I knelt down and picked up a rock, skipping it across the surface. It skipped twice and sank.

I didn't know whether to be upset about leaving tomorrow.

I wasn't scared, exactly. But this last month had been… safe. Not because of the silence or the countryside, exactly, but because of how nothing had been required of me. No deadlines. No expectations. Just breakfasts, walks, old tales, and early bedtimes.

But the world didn't wait. And neither did I.

At home, I saw my grandfather on the porch, drinking coffee and gazing at the garden as if it would grow quicker if he looked at it hard enough. I went outside and sat beside him on the steps.

"Packed up?" he asked without looking around.

"Yeah," I told him. "Train's at seven in the morning."

He nodded. "Big departure."

"Yeah."

We sat there for a while, not saying much. Just the two of us and the sound of birds in the trees.

"You're not the same kid who came here last time," he said eventually. "Something in your eyes looks clearer now."

"I've just had time to think, that's all."

He looked over at me. "Thinking's okay. But living is more important. You've got time, so go slow. Find out the kind of person you need to become. Don't rush."

I nodded. "I'll try."

And then, as I was getting up to leave, a sharp flicker of pain flashed behind my right eye. It wasn't bad—only a brief, throbbing ache that disappeared almost instantly. I blinked and rubbed my temple.

"Hey, you alright?" my grandfather asked.

"Yeah, just a little headache. Nothing new."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. We resumed watching the wind blow through the trees.

Dinner that night was uncomplicated: roasted chicken, vegetables, and tender dinner rolls my grandmother had prepared during the week. She wrapped up leftovers for me to take on the train and told me again to stay hydrated and not miss meals.

"We're proud of you," she said when we were rinsing the last of the dishes. "And we'll be cheering for you. From a distance, but always."

"Thanks," I told them, rubbing my hands together to dry them. "I mean it, really."

We then sat on a bit longer in the living room, simply enjoying the last peaceful evening before it all began again.

At about ten o'clock, creeping late as usual, I stood up at last, stretched and hugged both of them once more before going up to bed.

My bag was already packed. My ID and train ticket were carefully stashed away in the side pocket. All I had to do was sleep and wake up early.

I turned off the lights and climbed into bed.

I simply lay there for a bit, gazing at the ceiling. The window was open enough to let in a breeze, which was redolent with the scent of blooming grass and flowers. Somewhere far away, frogs were lazily croaking.

Then, another tiny throb beat at the back of my head. Not painful. Not suffocating. But present. I furrowed my brow slightly and pressed my fingers against my temple.

They hadn't appeared very much lately—those headaches. Well, in fact, they'd largely ceased within the last four weeks. They'd only recur when I'd had exams or some stressful thing happening, otherwise. Here, however? Here they'd dissolved almost completely.

I thought maybe it was the tranquility. The atmosphere. The reprieve from stress.

Perhaps it was nothing.

Perhaps it was something.

It made no difference in either case.

I relaxed and rolled over to my side, drawing up the blanket.

Tomorrow was a fresh beginning.

And that was enough right now.

(End of Chapter)