Archive of Our Own ^beta

Junior High School

An average weekday in Kageyama Tobio’s life goes like this: 

5:15 - 5:30 AM - Wake up 

5:30 - 6:30 AM - Running (or Gym, if it’s Tuesday or Thursday)

6:45 - 7:15 AM - Eat breakfast 

7:15 - 7:45 AM - Get ready for school

8:00 - 8:30 AM - Sneak some volleyball practice in

8:30 AM - 12 PM - School

12:00 PM - Lunch (and volleyball)

1:00 - 3:15 PM - More school

3:20 - 3:30 PM - Get a drink (or snack), then get changed for practice

3:30 - 5:30 PM - Volleyball practice 

5:30 - 5:45 PM - More cool down stretches

6:30 - 7:30 PM - Arrive home, shower, have dinner

7:30 - 8:00 PM - Get through homework

8:00 - 9:30 PM - Review practice games (or practice meditation)

9:30 - 10:00 PM - Get ready for bed

10:00 PM - Sleep

It’s a perfect routine, Kageyama thinks. He used to tell people. He doesn’t tell anyone anymore because it’s a waste of time.

What a weirdo. Other kids would say. Or, more accurately, they’d say something like- Does that Kageyama Tobio have a ten foot stick up his ass?

He’d hear them sometimes, when he’s practicing out in the back during lunch. It’s another one of those things he tries to take and shove as far away as he can in his head. What a freak.

Kageyama doesn’t understand why loving volleyball makes him a freak. Grandpa likes it. Onee-san does too. There are other kids in his volleyball club who like it too, even if they are too slow. Or can’t serve right.

But then again, sometimes, he doesn’t really understand people.

It’s fine. As long as he can play.

—

He was three years old when his grandfather first taught him how to play. According to his sister, he was a baby when he first held a volleyball in his hands. She says Grandpa was pleased at this, eyes crinkling at the edges from his smile.

“Everything starts with a strong foundation,” he remembers his Grandpa saying to him, once. As a child. “To be good at anything, you must have a strong foundation.”

Kageyama recalls the feeling of wrinkled, firm hands pressed on top of his. Underneath his own warm palms, the firm surface of grimy, soil-caked yellow and blue rubber. The ball is strong against his hands, but still, it has give.

“How do I have that, Grandpa?" asks Kageyama, tiny brows furrowed.

He asks seriously. Earnestly. With all the seriousness of a grown man in a third grader’s body. He speaks like this because Grandpa does, though he doesn’t understand why Mom laughs. He’s just speaking.

“You build it, Tobio,” states Grandpa. A hand firmly presses on top of his head, ruffles the black strands of hair there. “It takes discipline to be good, but discipline must become a habit, ne? Discipline needs to be something done everyday. A routine built then becomes personal maintenance.”

A routine built.. The words ring in his little red ears, chilled by a November morning’s wind. Discipline becomes habit. Personal maintenance.

He doesn’t get people, but gets this.

Kageyama builds a schedule, then. At least, to the best of his ability. Children don’t get to do much to decide, but he does his best as the months turn into years. As he grows, he chooses to eat at proper times, to do his warm ups, to practice his jump float serves, to do his cool down stretches.

And he’d tell Grandpa about all the games he plays, all the tosses he sets, all the things no one else seems to get but his own grandfather. Even Miwa-neesan gets tired of his volleyball talk, especially when she quits. Go write in a journal, she’d yell at him, stop bothering me!

“The game was going to be over so fast, Grandpa,” complained Kageyama, just shy of entering middle school. “I wanted to keep playing lots and lots longer.”

It was true. He’d serve and serve, and get point after point. But what was the point of the game ended? It would be over- the finality an empty space that formed in his mouth and in his chest.

Kageyama remembers his grandfather chortling- oh-ho-ho-ho! Again, he frowns because he’s being serious and he doesn’t get why Grandpa is laughing. But he remembers it. The orange haze of sunset. The crunch of dirt underneath their feet as they walked home from the game. The twinkle in the old man’s dark blue eyes as he lifts a slightly crooked finger.

“If you get really good, I promise you…” he said, a gentle smile balancing the intense look on his face. “Somebody who’s even better will come and find you.”

Somebody even better? The thought made Kageyama’s young heart race. He’d like to show them. He thought of all the different ways to train and build himself to be better. He’d create foundations so strong, not even Japan’s Olympic team could spike through them.

And he’d make it routine. Perfect. 

—

Approximately, eight months later, Kageyama Kazuyo dies.

Then, two months after, his parents get a divorce, and his father leaves them behind. A few months after that, his teammates refuse to play for him. Refuse to play with him.

The King of the Court, they call Kageyama. They don’t like him. He doesn’t need to understand people to understand that.

Kageyama holds onto his routine, then. He buries himself in the comfort of his weekly gym sessions, in the daily practicing of his tosses. He plays more volleyball than ever, even if the only person who wanted to play with him was no longer around.

But sometimes, he opens up his volleyball journal and flips back to an entry he’s scribbled down:

10/04/2008

Somebody even better will want to play volleyball with me.

By the end of junior high, he wonders if there will ever be someone better. Or someone that would even want to play with him.

—

First Year

When high school starts, Kageyama goes to Karasuno. It stings to know he wasn’t good enough to get into Shiratorizawa, but it is what it is. He wasn't good enough. He simply has to get better.

He chooses Karasuno because it’s a fallen powerhouse. But once, a time ago, it was a school team in Miyagi who made it to Nationals. When others ask him (they usually don’t), he tells them it’s because their old coach might be returning.

Deep inside, though, he knows it’s because he can relate to that image. Fallen powerhouse. A crow that cannot fly. 

Kageyama decides to do his routine volleyball warm ups early in the new gym. The team won’t mind. He’s already showing up and practicing. They’ll have to let him in.

Slam. Slam. Slam. He bounces the volleyball on the ground. Then, Kageyama picks it up and spins it on his palm, until he slaps it- smack!- into a complete stop. 

It’s so familiar, it’s almost an extension of him. The muscle memory comforts him. It’s a reminder that maybe, just maybe things can feel better and that he can get to where he wants to be.

He’s about hit a serve when he hears an insufferable screech.

“What is he doing here?!”

The ball thuds onto his head- bonk- and into the ground, serve missed. For a moment, Kageyama sees red. What do you mean the serve missed? Who could have-

He turns to see a boy at the door. A short boy with wide brown eyes and tufts of bright orange hair that remind Kageyama of the tangerines that sit on Grandpa’s altar. Or shrimp. Definitely a shrimp.

It takes Kageyama a moment, but then he recalls meeting the boy. Junior high. Some naturally talented ass kid with absolutely no foundation or proper training schedule whatsoever. His tea- no, Kitagawa Daiichi slaughtered that volleyball club. It wasn’t even a question.

Yet the boy still told Kageyama that he’d beat him some day. That, admittedly, pissed him off the most, then. Beat him? He couldn’t even make the game last.

And now he stands right in front of him.

“I forgot your name,” states Kageyama plainly.

That sets the feisty shrimp off. The boy starts yelling at him, and eventually it makes him yell back. Then, before Kageyama knows it, things go against his internal schedule when he and the boy, Hinata Shoyo, are tossed out of the gym. The Karasuno Volleyball Club Captain, Daichi, tells them not to come back until they’re able to cooperate.

“You’re so damn annoying!” He snarls at Hinata.

Kageyama actually hates him right now. He hates how everything is not how it’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be in the gym right now, warming up. It’s 4 PM and he should be playing volleyball right now, but he’s not.

“No, you’re annoying!” Hinata snaps back at him. “I should already in the club by now!”

They bicker. They bicker and argue and grab at each other and pull at each other’s hair. Hinata Shoyo is so different from other kids Kageyama ever dealt with. He gets angry at Kageyama’s words, but he doesn’t back down and let the cracks on the floor widen the gap between them.

Nah. This orange-haired kid flies. Flies over the net, flies over to the ball, and flies over the deep crevice no one can see that keeps Kageyama at bay from everyone else. Just to simply annoy the shit out of him.

Eventually, they end up teammates, both Kageyama and Hinata. Some of the new first years to join the Karasuno Boy’s Volleyball Club. He can work with this short and untrained teammate, as much as the tangerine head gets on his nerves. Kageyama thinks of the quick, the lightning speed of it all. There’s truly raw talent there, as much as he hates to admit.

As long as he doesn’t get in my way, Kageyama thinks begrudgingly, as the shrimp named Hinata holds up his hands at him and yells for a high five. 

—

Hinata absolutely gets in his way.

“You have to come get meat buns with us, Kageyama,” whines Hinata, one of the first few weeks of practice. “The team’s coming so you gotta come too!”

A startled grunt leaves Kageyama when the shorter kid attempts shoving him in the direction of the rest of the team. The third years were heading to Sakanoshita Market, coach Ukai’s workplace, so the rest of the team tagged along.

Sometimes Kageyama goes there for an after-practice snack, but not with other people. Besides, it’s almost 6:10PM and he wants to go home.

“Looks like the King doesn’t wish to mingle with us mere peasants,” oozes a voice from the left. It’s the tall first year with blonde hair and a permanently bored expression, Tsukishima Kei.

Kageyama kisses his teeth, amidst the snickering from Tsukishima and his friend, with the dark green hair. It’s not hard to miss, even with the other boys yapping around them. His blonde teammate grates Kageyama’s nerves in a different way from Hinata. He can’t explain why, he just does.

“You don’t have to join us if you don’t want to, Kageyama-kun,” says vice captain Sugawara. Kageyama finds his senpai interesting, so caring yet so unbelievably energetic and chaotic at times. “But we’d love to have you.”

“It’s a team thing. Just come!” The captain, Daichi adds.

Kageyama can’t help but stare blankly at both Captain and Vice. He shuffles his feet, unable to ignore the weird feeling in his stomach. Then, he thinks about his goal, to beat Oikawa and Ushiwaka. To be the best. 

He thinks about the routine he’s built since elementary school. The comfort it brought in its consistency.

 “Ah…” begins Kageyama. “I think-”

“I bet I could run to Shimada Mart faster than you,” declares Hinata suddenly, amidst the noise of the team. 

Wait. What?

That fires something within Kageyama.

“You wanna bet, dumbass?” Kageyama shouts.

Before he can say anything else, the ginger-haired kid immediately takes off. He screams as he runs, “Loserrrr buys the winnerrrr twooooo meat buuuuunsss!” 

Oh hell no.

—

Kageyama ends up coming home at 8:19 PM. The spare meat bun is still warm in his backpack.

He feels weird. Everything feels thrown off. He should have already been done with dinner and a shower by now. Or at least finishing up.

It’s 8:22 PM. Now, 8:23 PM. He hasn’t done either of those things. He hasn’t done anything but stare at a mound of bread, slightly squished from his notebooks. He’s wasting time.

But he thinks about sitting around with the other boys. All the chatter and yelling and joking around. Even stupid Hinata angrily puffing his cheeks at him as he bought Kageyama two meat buns. Kitagawa Daiichi never did that with him around.

He ends up sleeping at 11:23 PM that night.

—

The first few weeks as the setter of the Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club is really just a series of throwing Kageyama off schedule. The boys chatter so much that they start warm ups late sometimes. After practice, they often end up going to Shimada Mart to get snacks, or just loiter in the club room until Daichi-san starts yelling at them to GUYS, GO HOME.

They're not good. But they’re not bad, either. It’s a lot of things to fix, sure. Kageyama observes, sometimes with the itching feeling to do everything himself like a king of the court.

Unlike his old team, though, this team is hungry. Everyone, including the irritating Tsukishima, or the anxiety-riddled ace Asahi, wants to shake the dust off their unused wings. Every practice boils back down to new strategies built, sweat sliding down skin, and-

“One more!” Hinata screams, hand outstretched. The part of him that stands most tall. That perpetual persistence. “One more!”

Hinata Shoyo. He’s the hungriest of them all.

When Kageyama meets those brown eyes with his, he can’t help but feel something burn within. Hinata wasted his talent from not training the last few years, that’s true. Hinata also is, skill-wise, the worst one in the team. But Hinata also digs his heels into the floorboards, ready to jump and ready to fly.

It’s messed up how Hinata is the only one truly just as hungry as Kageyama is. 

Some days, he comes home from practice later. Because of that stupid Hinata wanting more serves. More practice. Just one more. Of course, it doesn’t really matter to anyone else. Miwa-neesan works late, Mom and Dad too. It’s only Kageyama who minds the fact that things in his routine have shifted ever so slightly.

Yes, it’s messed up how Hinata is the only one truly just as hungry as Kageyama is. But perhaps it’s more messed up that Kageyama wants it to stay that way.

—

More and more, Hinata pushes past his routine.

Sometimes, it gets under Kageyama’s skin. It really does. He understands staying past club time to continue practicing serves, or during lunch time. Of course, when Kageyama’s had enough, he puts his foot down. Leaves early, follows his routine- like eat properly or go to the gym.

But somehow, Hinata is always there, working his way into so many parts of Kageyama’s days that he swears there are holes in his regimen. And worse, Hinata doesn’t do personal maintenance. Hell, sometimes Hinata doesn’t even eat at lunch. The shrimp’s legs and mouth would run a mile a minute, but then the bell would ring and then the dumbass would have the nerve to complain he was hungry. 

Personal maintenance, he recalls Grandpa teaching him. Good volleyball isn’t just the practices. It’s also the training and the stretching and rest days, all in moderation. And Kageyama wraps it all up, like the plastic wrapping on an onigiri, in his routine.

“You’re crazy,” says Sugawara-san to him one day, after the boys finish their half-assed cooldown stretches. Kageyama stays longer to finish the rest of it. “You’re so disciplined for a first year. How do you do it?”

“We’re asking the King himself?” says Tsukishima snidely. Kageyama glares at him.

“It’s because Kageyama is built different!” Nishinoya-san and Tanaka-san hoot and holler, as if they themselves weren’t different like him too. “Dude’s somethin’ else!”

“I have a regimen,” tells Kageyama. “I’ve been following it since junior high.”

“Ooooooh!” The boys make all kinds of sounds and even more faces when Kageyama runs them through his schedule. It’s weird, knowing people listen now when he explains something about himself. 

“See? It’s factored in everything: practice, strength training, mind training, studying games, nutrition, sleep,” says Kageyama, a little smug. “It’s a hundred percent the perfect routine.”

And it is. It’s crafted down to the very second. Every part of it is perfect. The most- hell, the only maximised way to be successful at volleyball. Life’s confusing and unnecessary messiness whittled down into this predictable, reliable ritual of organization and efficiency.

It worked for Kageyama then, it works for him now, and it will never fail him. Ever.

“But wait! Isn’t that kinda stupid?” exclaims Hinata. His fluffy orange hair bounces, sticking out all over the place as he peers over Kageyama’s phone. “When will you have time to be a person?”

Kageyama wants to kill him.

“Hinata, dumbass!” He seethes, throwing a towel at the boy’s head. The dull smack and “ouch!” offers some level of satisfaction for him. “This is me being a person! I’m gonna be a person great at volleyball, unlike you.”

“Grr, that’s not what I meant!” Hinata retorts, trying to throw the towel back at him. He fails. “I’m asking about time for yourself. What about friends?”

“I don’t need friends.”

It’s easier to say than the truth: I don’t have any friends. The words squeeze from his clenched teeth begrudgingly. He throws an icy look at Tsukishima’s mocking laugh at the corner. At least he can glare at him, instead of facing whatever sad look the third years give him. He doesn’t need their pity.

“Bakageyama,” says Hinata. “Everyone needs friends.”

Kageyama thinks of an empty court. Grandpa’s photo on the altar. The silence of his empty house at 6:30 PM at night. Going full days in school without speaking to anyone more than he has to. Personal maintenance. He clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white.

“I don’t need to hear that coming from someone who doesn’t take care of himself!” Kageyama snaps. “If there’s anyone who needs this, it’s you.”

“Yes, I do!” Hinata’s voice is shrill. “And no, I d-”

He storms out of the gymnasium, head throbbing. Words bounce around in his brain, and he hates Hinata for it. Friends. Personal maintenance. Routine. Personal maintenance. Friends. His routine was perfect. He didn’t need friends. Of course, someone like Hinata would go and just fuck it up like that.

—

At 8 AM the next morning, Kageyama sees a familiar orange head of hair, just at the school entrance.

For a second, they lock eyes. Then, Kageyama feels his legs move first. 

Wham! He collides into the club room door. Hinata crashes into him just seconds after, then makes a sound of frustration. On the ground, Kageyama inhales and exhales, his heart pounding and his whole body warmed from yet another stupid race he absolutely refuses to lose to.

“You know,” gasps Hinata, between breaths, sprawled out on the floor beside him. “You’re my meanest friend yet, Bakageyama.”

Kageyama just breathes. Stares at the other boy. He notices Hinata doesn’t have a scarf yet, and it's already getting cold. Hinata is weird like that. He bikes over a mountain everyday, jumps ridiculously high, and can’t do basic serves right half the time. He’s sunny and cheerful, and many people like him yet somehow, somehow, he still wants to be Kageyama’s friend. 

“Dumbass. Dumbass Hinata,” is all he’s able to say.

But Kageyama can still feel the other boy grin beside him. 

—

As the months pass, Kageyama shifts things in his routine. He still wakes up early. He still goes to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and makes sure to go running now on Mondays or on holidays. He tries to keep his grades above 40 (key word: tries), and gets at least eight hours of sleep when he can.

But there are new things too. Like getting to school at exactly 7:55 AM to race Hinata to the club room to get their half hour of practice before school. Or arriving home closer to 8:30 PM on Fridays because the rest of the club ends up idling at the club room, or at a store nearby.

Or even having Hinata sit beside him during team meetings. On long bus rides. At lunch.

Sometimes, Kageyama looks at Hinata, when the other boy isn’t looking. He thinks of that journal entry, scribbled down years ago in scrawled out letters. 

Catch up to me. He can’t help but think. Make it last.

—

They lose the Interhigh preliminaries. Tears stream down his cheeks and into his bowl of rice and stir fried pork. Kageyama doesn’t need to look to the side to know that Hinata eats and weeps alongside him.

They get better. The team works hard, builds their skills, learns new techniques, spreads their wings, and soars. Neighboring schools hear of the legendary “freak duo”.

He and Hinata fight a lot in those months. But they also laugh a lot. They talk about volleyball too, whether it’s matches they play or things they watch online. And sometimes they talk about things outside volleyball too. It’s weird, now, when Hinata takes a day to hang out with other people, and Kageyama can’t help but notice the emptiness in his chest that mirrors the vacant space beside him.

Is it weird to have a person so deeply rooted in his schedule? Kageyama isn’t sure. Better yet, Kageyama is starting not to mind.

—

On New Year’s, Kageyama gets a text from Hinata. Shrine visit with Yamaguchi. 

He says no. It isn’t in his plan today, running is. So he doesn’t want to go.

During his Monday run, though, he still manages to bump into Hinata and the others. Playing hanetsuki , outside the gym.

“You just don’t wanna lose!” yells Hinata, when he’s about to decline the invite and continue his run. “Coward-yama!”

Dumbass Hinata. Kageyama thinks as he purses his lips and grabs the racquet. He aims a perfect hit of the hane on Hinata’s forehead. Always ruining my plans.

—

When Hinata collapses at Nationals, Kageyama can only think of his grandfather.

Personal maintenance. He hears Grandpa saying, over and over and over again. Personal maintenance. 

A part of him wants to scream at Hinata. Sick. Hinata was sick. Ran himself to the ground simply because he didn’t fucking take care of himself. Kageyama wants to grab him by the collar and rattle his bones because God, there sure wasn’t a brain there. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he’s calm when he tells the furrowed brows and confused, worried faces of Karasuno about what he thinks had happened. He stands in silence as Takeda-sensei and everyone else tells the dumbass all the things he tried so hard to tell him all those months ago. He stands in silence when Hinata sobs, bowing profusely as tears and tremors race through his feverish body, as he apologises to everyone on the team.

Kageyama breaks his silence by echoing Hinata’s words back at him. I’ll be the one to stand on the court the longest.

He thinks of a promise his grandfather made, almost a decade ago, about someone better coming to play volleyball with him. The image of his most reckless friend, the one unable to move in front of him, flashes in his mind at the thought. He knows Hinata will stand beside him once more, but disappointment thrums cold and heavy in his blood.

“I win again,” declares Kageyama.

He’s not happy to say it, but it’s something he knows Hinata needs to hear.

And he knows Hinata understands it. Kageyama sees it in his eyes. The way he fiercely rubs at his eyes to stare back at him. It’s a monstrous look, but that doesn’t scare Kageyama- he’s a monster, too.

—

“You’re a jackass, you know that?” says Tsukishima, when Hinata’s escorted to the infirmary.

Kageyama says nothing. He knows. 

After all, he’s Hinata’s meanest friend.

—

When Hinata recovers, Kageyama sits beside him on the bus once again. Back to Miyagi. Back home.

“Can I borrow your scarf?” Hinata asks. Hoarsely. Quietly.

“Idiot,” he replies. 

He gives him the scarf. And sits in silence when Hinata sleeps the rest of the ride, small body pressed against him, a steady warmth against January’s frost.

–

Second Year

Their second year flows better than the first.

The club dynamic changes because of course it does. Daichi, Sugawara, Asahi, and Kiyoko-senpai no longer go here. There’s so many new sign-ups for the team that for the first time in ages, the Karasuno Boy’s Volleyball Club needs tryouts.

Eventually, they settle on first years that Coach Ukai and the team collectively see have great potential. Hinata, Tanaka-san, and Nishinoya-san collectively agree that the new kids have “great vibes”.

Thankfully, the new faces don't change things around too much. Kageyama still races with Hinata to the club room around 3:20 PM to get changed (Kageyama wins again- ha!). Tanaka-san, the new vice captain for the season, and Nishinoya-san, are loud and brazen as usual. New captain Ennoshita-san suffers as usual as he tells the continuing team to pipe down.

“We saw you guys play at Nationals, Kageyama-senpai! Hinata-senpai!” expresses one eager first year, during the first official practice. His lips curve like a cartoon bear’s, sometimes. “You guys were famous in my middle school. The Freak Duo!”

“Ah, thank you, you flatter us!” Hinata gushes.

The tips of Hinata’s ears flush as pink as his face does. It makes the bright clementine colors of his hair stand out a lot more. Kageyama notices Hinata beams even more than usual. He notices a lot of things lately, like how Hinata is just a little bit taller or a little bit quieter on long training days.

“-yama? Kageyama?”

He blinks. Then, he’s aware of all those faces staring at him. 

Heat builds on his cheeks. “What are you staring at for?”

“I said, we got a lot of things to show them, right, Kageyama?” Hinata gives him a look and bumps him with his shoulder. In return, Kageyama instinctively reaches out and bonks him on the head. “What was that for, Karate-yama!?”

“I’ve heard about this too,” laughs another first year student shyly. This one has one eye smaller than the other, and dark brown hair long overdue for a haircut. “You two are such close friends.”

Close friends. It catches Kageyama mid-swipe.

Hinata, on the other hand, is unfazed. He places his hands on his hips, and grins so hard Kageyama wonders if his cheeks hurt. 

“And I’m gonna also beat him one day!” proclaims Hinata.

Bastard. Much to their kohai’s shock, Kageyama aims a solid kick on Hinata’s backside.

—

Close friends. 

Close friends.

Those two words follow Kageyama like a shadow. During class, he leans his head on his desk and watches other kids in his class.

Yamaguchi and Tsukishima say it’s weird of him to constantly watch other people. Kageyama doesn’t understand why it’s so weird. They watch people in volleyball games all the time, especially to understand them. What’s wrong with watching people in real life too? Watching people helps him understand better- how not to make people cry or get angry all the time.

He wonders if they feel the same way about their close friends. Frustrated. Elated. The same burst of energy that comes during a race, when you know you’re just seconds away from the finish line. That feeling you know that no one else in this world will ever truly understand you.

Hinata plays volleyball with him. Even if Kageyama decks him on the head, or says something that makes him cry. Hinata still plays volleyball with him.

—

“You have… a lot of close friends,” says Kageyama during their lunch break.

Both of them packed beef curry for their bento that day. Kageyama has an egg on top, which means extra protein. Therefore, he wins. Hinata begs to differ, but he is wrong.

“I guess?” replies Hinata. The words come out gooey, his mouth full of curry and rice. “There’s Koji and Yukitaka. Kenma and I have texted since first year. Yachi-san and I have been hanging out more with Yamaguchi-kun, too.”

Hinata swallows. Kageyama’s gaze lingers on his Adam’s apple, bobbling slightly against his throat. He thinks of the many friends Hinata’s able to make, just by… being him. He wonders how he’s able to make them all fit so seamlessly into his life.

“And you. Duh.”

 Kageyama freezes. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you really that dumb, Bakageyama?” asks Hinata, rolling his eyes.

They’re in their second year now. Hinata rolls his eyes and teases openly. A long cry from the kid who folded over from stomachaches, and quaked in fear at the back of the lineup.

Clearly, Kageyama’s face says something because Hinata’s gaze softens. Just a little. The sight of it makes Kageyama want to run. Want to hide. Want to punch him in the face.

“We’re known as the Freak Duo,” says Hinata softly. He stares into the potatoes and carrots swimming in sauce. “We’ve practiced together until we’re yelled at to go home. We’ve made it to Nationals. You’ve been to my house.”

Kageyama has. It’s always strange to be in Hinata’s household. There’s so much noise, clinking noises of plates or glasses, thudding of feet on the floor. His little sister always appears out of thin air, demanding them to show her his tricks and drills and other things. 

But other people go to Hinata’s house. Hinata practices with others in their team. They didn’t make it to Nationals as the Freak Duo, they did because they were part of the Karasuno volleyball club.

A gnawing sensation starts at the pit of his stomach. Hinata has many friends. Many close friends. He doesn’t know why that fact bothers him.

“Yeah.” Kageyama mutters. 

The topic changes back to the latest volleyball match against Date Tech high. Something safe. They eat their curry, then. There’s still 20 minutes before the bell rings, enough time to practice jump floater serves.

—

“Oooohhh, my dude Tanaka has a date!” announces Nishinoya-san, one practice.

Hoots and hollers erupt within the club room. Uncharacteristically, Tanaka-san turns bright pink and rubs the back of his neck. Nishinoya does his usual and smacks the vice captain’s shoulders in shared glee.

“Congrats!” says Kinnoshita. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

The vice captain puffs his chest out. “Guess!”

Kageyama doesn’t bother. He rolls his shoulders as the guys in the room shout out different girl’s names, most of them celebrity names. He’s unsure why they care so much. He doesn’t really care to talk to girls. To be fair, girls talk to him and then realize they feel similarly.

“What if it’s Kiyoko-san?” Hinata laughs.

Somehow, Tanaka-san grins even wider. He fires finger guns at the orange-haired kid. “Bullseye!”

“WHAAAAT!” is the collective cry. 

“No way!” Hinata gasps. His eyes sparkle, like a naive first year once again. “That’s so amazing, Tanaka-senpai. She wouldn’t even look at you last year.”

“I’m surprised she ever even looked at you,” adds Tsukishima drily.

“Hey!”

Nishinoya and the other boys guffaw at that. They proceed to ask the vice captain all about what he planned to do and other frivolous details Kageyama didn’t care for.

Out of the corner of his eye, though, Kageyama notices Hinata’s smile fall. Just for a moment. It’s a strange sight, to see him without it. Then, it’s back on again as if nothing happened at all. Weird.

“Alright team,” shouts Ennoshita, jumping into captain mode. He claps his hands sharply. “Let’s get to practice already. Interhigh is in a few weeks. Can’t afford to waste anymore time.”

—

“Do you ever think about dating, Kageyama?” asks Hinata.

Kageyama stares incredulously at him. How Hinata Shoyo it is to ask such random questions out of nowhere. But it still catches him off guard.

It’s 8:39 PM night, after some extra practice and extra snacks, and they’re walking home. The cicadas scream into the void and the air is hot and humid on their tired bodies. Hinata’s bike squeaks slightly as he rolls it between them.

 “No.” says Kageyama. “Not really.”

Hinata laughs. “I’m not surprised. You turned down a few girls this year.”

It’s true. At school, he had a girl or two try to pull him over to a corner. He remembers how they smell nice and twirl their hair or hold their hands behind their backs as they confess. When he’s called handsome, Kageyama does, in fact, feel quite shy.

But he always declines. Contrary to popular belief, he does feel kind of bad when he sees a girl’s hurt face as she walks away from him, but he won’t change his mind on it. The thought of someone- anyone- disturbing his routine for volleyball annoys him more than anything.

“I guess that makes volleyball your first love, huh, Kageyama?” Hinata grins.

Volleyball? First love? For a second, Kageyama looks up and pauses to think about it. And then he nods. “Checks out.”

Apparently that’s hilarious because Hinata bursts into giggles. 

“What’s so funny about that?” Kageyama stares at him, confused and exasperated. 

“I- I,” chokes out Hinata between peals of laughter. “I had this image of you! You were having your san-san-kudo with a gigantic volleyball!”

“Dumbass!” Kageyama tries to smack him as Hinata folds over his trusty bike, giggling still. His cheeks burn. “That’s so stupid!”

His laughter eventually subsides as they walk towards the street where they split. The apples of Kageyama’s cheeks still burn, but he’s not sure why.

“That means the same for you, right?” He says, just as Hinata hikes a leg over the worn leather of his bicycle seat.

“What do you mean?”

“Volleyball,” says Kageyama. “It’s your first love too, yeah?”

For a moment, it’s only the evening sound of cicadas. The distant sound of a neighborhood dog barking. The heavy taste of Miyagi’s summer air on his tongue. The thump of Kageyama’s heartbeat, picking up seconds faster than it should.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is,” says Hinata, voice unnervingly soft. Then suddenly he flashes Kageyama a grin and a quick wave of his left hand. “A-Anyways, good night, Kageyama!”

Stunned, Kageyama watches as his friend pedals away down the mountain path. He presses his fingertips against his warm cheeks. He suddenly feels the weight of his clothes on his skin, the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Somehow, this was a contest he lost. 

—

The Interhigh Preliminaries come.

They lose to Date Tech High in the finals.

It’s bitter as hell, but Kageyama understands it. Karasuno lost three members of their core team and had to adjust to the new lineup. However, the Date Tech team let their first years gain experience since the year before. The classic case of growing pains.

“Ugh, was hoping for a good birthday win,” grumbles Hinata, on the bus ride home. 

“New year win, then,” replies Kageyama, firmly.

“You’re right!”

As usual, Hinata falls asleep beside him somewhere along the trip. As usual, Kageyama lets him. The weight that presses against his left arm is comfortably familiar. 

—

“I wanna do serves today.”

A deep frown forms on Kageyama’s face as squints at Hinata from across the gymnasium. That was not the plan today.

“Your serves have been getting better,” stated Kageyama, inhaling deeply. He exhales. “You know it’s the receives that lost us a lot of points-”

“But the serves aren’t perfect,” Hinata butts in. He puts his hands on his hips. “And you know that we could decrease our chances of losing points with better serves.”

Kageyama grits his teeth. “It wasn’t what we were going to work on today.”

“Then adjust.”

A fire blazes behind those wide brown eyes. It’s an intensity that Kageyama is more than accustomed to. It’s also an intensity, as pissed as he is, that he can never really say no to.

“You are so goddamn annoying, you know that?” snaps Kageyama, as he stomps to the utility closet to grab the volleyball cart. He still hears the excited “yes!” and that dumb little happy dance that the orange-haired kid does. 

Practice goes overtime because of course it does. Hinata always makes it so. 

—

At the Spring Tournament, just before the third round, Inarizaki High’s setter approaches him.

“For the longest time, I thought it was Shrimpy who made ya Mister Goody Two-Shoes,” says Miya Atsumu. The blonde setter folds his arms across his chest, expression unreadable. “Seems like it was the total opposite.”

“And I never understand you when you talk to me,” replies Kageyama, honestly.

Miya-san’s laugh is so loud, it startles other people around them. He points at Kageyama, shaking his head, before turning to walk away.

“You still don’t realize his value, do ya?” He says.

And Kageyama still doesn’t understand.

—

Karasuno loses their third round. To Inarizaki. Those bastards.

Kageyama watches Hinata as he sleeps beside him on that bus ride. Takes in traces of those long eyelashes, the face starting to sharpen slightly at the edges. The slight rounding of nose at the tip.

He also thinks about all the games they’ve played. The synergy. Their quick. Their shared intensity that all but razes everything else into the ground.

Value? He thinks, over and over. Value?

It’s the routine of Hinata sleeping beside him that keeps Kageyama from going insane. 

—

Third Year

Try-outs for the boy’s volleyball team last two days in their third year.

“It’s so cool,” says Hinata, eyeing all the new kids practicing serves and receives in neat rows as Coach Ukai and new captain Yamaguchi call out instructions at them. “Remember when it was just us that first day?”

Of course Kageyama remembers. How could he forget that whirlwind of a day? They met again, fought so hard that they knocked over the principal’s toupee off, and got thrown out the gymnasium. 

“I didn’t remember your name,” replies Kageyama. 

Hinata shoots him a dry look. “Was there anyone who’s name you remembered back then?”

“There was Oikawa-san’s. Oh, and Ushijima-san.”

“Wow. Amazing. You remembered two names.”

Kageyama raises a hand and tries to deck him, but misses. Hinata’s used to this song and dance by now. Three years would do that do a person. Still, it doesn’t stop Kageyama from trying.

“Anyways, Kageyama, it’s Tuesday so you’re gonna have after-school gym, right?” asks Hinata suddenly.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Change your plans, then! I got new footage of Nekoma that we can totally study at mine.”

“Oi, Hinata you d-!”

“Vice captain Kageyama-kun! Hinata-kun!” Yamaguchi suddenly calls, as Kageyama tries to grab Hinata. “Get your behinds over here and be an example to the first years!”

Sheepishly, the two make their way to the rest of the team. 

—

Over at Hinata’s place, they watch Nekoma’s most recent game. First, in regular time. Then, in 0.5x speed. The footage shows Lev’s accuracy increased quite a bit, and their new libero has amazing flexibility that could prove dangerous.

“Again, a battle of the garbage dump with my best friend,” sighs Hinata wistfully. “We gotta make it count. Kenma’s going to be watching the live, or I’ll be so mad.”

“Yeah.”

—

It occurs to Kageyama only weeks later that Hinata thinks of them as best friends. 

It makes sense, in the grand scheme of it all. They spend a lot of time together. Even if they argue and compete on everything and anything. Kageyama should be happy about it. He never had friends, and now has a best one.

What doesn’t make sense, though, is that it’s still not enough.

Kageyama tries not to think about it. He doesn’t know how. Instead, he buries himself back into his nightly ritual of studying the newest match. Then his wash up and five minute meditation.

With each action, he soothes himself into the familiar as much as he can. Even if it’s not enough. 

—

Midway through the season, Kageyama gets scouted to join the V.Leagues.

“You‘ve shown so much promise since you were in your first year of high school,” says a businessman in a fancy grey suit and tie. “Currently leading the rookie charts as a powerhouse promise, Kageyama-san. We would love to have you join one of our teams.”

The man hands Kageyama a business card with a cleanly typed print. Japanese Volleyball Leagues Representative. 

Kageyama takes the offer. He would be beyond stupid not to. It’s a sure fire way for him to keep playing volleyball. 

He goes back into his day. His same old routine. He still does his elaborate cooldown stretches, and writes in his journal when he has a new observation or revelation about a play. 

But this time, there’s a skip in his step. A smile on his face that doesn’t ward people off. A sense of purpose that fuels everything that he does. That amazing sense of relief and joy that Kageyama gets to play games that last. 

Takeda-sensei is the one to break the news to everyone in Karasuno first. When he does, Kageyama looks at Hinata’s face, a small part of him expecting that same anguished response- what about me? 

Oddly enough, Hinata doesn’t. He cheers the loudest for him instead. It fills Kageyama with a sense of pride, instead, to see a look of fierce determination all over his best friend’s face.

“I’m going to see you later at the leagues,” Hinata tells him, before practice starts. “And when I do, I’m going to beat you.”

Nothing makes Kageyama’s heart race more. He grins.

“I’ll be waiting, then.” He replies. “But for now, I’m going on ahead.”

—

They make it to Spring Nationals once again. Against all odds, Karasuno places third. Third place. Third year. Third time’s the charm.

The team celebrates hard. They eat well. There’s some tears, but the good kind. The kind that tells you they’re satisfied with this chapter closed in life.

Much to Kageyama’s disappointment, Hinata is too excited to sleep on the bus home. Instead, he wiggles around and yaps a mile a minute as he holds the bronze medal at an arm’s length to inspect.

It dawns on him, then, that it’s the last time that they will ever share a bus ride together. For a long time. Hell, maybe never. The thought causes a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Suddenly, that same weight is back on his left arm. He glances and sees Hinata, eyes closed with a sigh of contentment, slouched against him.

“Get off me,” grumbles Kageyama, even though he doesn’t really want Hinata to get off him.

“No,” laughs Hinata, as he leans his full body weight on him. “It’s cold.”

Kageyama lets him, then. One last time, he stares outside at the white that cloaks the city as it passes them by. And feels the press of familiarity against his side come to an end.

—

A few weeks later, Hinata tells him he’s moving to Brazil for two years. It’s enough to have Kageyama sit up, eyebrows raised in question.

Hinata is so casual about it, too. As if he was talking about the weather. He tells Kageyama nonchalantly as they’re both sprawled on the floor of Kageyama’s room, trying in vain to get last minute school work done.

“Brazil!?” He exclaims.

“To learn beach volleyball,” explains Hinata. He folds his arms behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling and not at the papers scattered beside him. “There’s a lot of things to learn from doing beach volleyball, like body control and reflexes.”

“What about… regular volleyball?” Kageyama glares at him. He can’t help it. “You’re not just going to quit, are you?”

For a moment, Kageyama thinks of an empty court. Rubber meeting the wooden floor in an empty thud-thud-thud before it rolls away.

“And let you win? Absolutely not!” Hinata grins cheekily. “I’ve planned it out, we’ll, Coach and Takeda-sensei helped me but I’ll be doing indoor volleyball so I don’t forget too.”

“You better not,” mutters Kageyama, though more reassured at that.

It’s… an interesting choice, for sure, to go down the route of beach volleyball to train. But that’s Hinata, always doing something unexpected. Knowing him for three years, however, helps Kageyama be less surprised about the whole thing.

Still, this weird heaviness in his chest Kageyama can’t ignore. 

The orange-haired boy rolls onto his stomach, folds his arms together and lays his head down on his arms. Then, he’s saying something. The words are muffled against Hinata’s arms, as if the other boy wants to cage it there.

“I can’t hear you,” says Kageyama.

“Would you miss me?”

A pause. Kageyama’s heart stops as his brain restarts. 

“Why would I do that?” He says, too quickly. “Dumbass.”

“Because I won’t be here?” Hinata raises his head and rests his cheek on one of his forearms. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

Kageyama snorts. He does it because he’s not sure what to do with the emotions stacked up in his body, bouncing around like a bunch of rowdy first years. He reaches out to land his palm on Hinata’s face- mmph!- and says:

“But it’s not goodbye, stupid. Well just… see each other later.”

He knows, as he says it, that it's something he needs to hear. 

—

On graduation day, Kageyama takes one last step inside the gymnasium. He grabs a stray ball at the corner, and does his usual. The ball spins in his hand. He slams it to a stop. He serves.

As it flies over the net, he sees the reliable blur of orange zoom past to receive it.

It’s a good receive. The ball flies high in a dome and lands somewhere in the space. Hinata rolls back up on his feet and makes his way through towards the net.

“See you later!” says Hinata cheerfully. He smiles so brightly it hurts to look at. “Kageyama!”

Kageyama returns the smile. “Yeah. See you later.”

Hinata’s grin continues. He takes into memory the sight of it. The sharper edges of what was once a rounder, baby face. The shape of his eyes. The long strands of clementine-colored hair that get too much into Hinata’s eyes.

There’s a feeling that appears. An all consuming, desperate need. For him to push the net away and to kiss the boy in front of him. It shakes Kageyama to his core.

But Kageyama doesn’t.

I guess volleyball is your first love, huh?

Of course he doesn’t. It’s not the script he wants to follow. Volleyball is his first love. He and Hinata are close friends. And this was just a stupid, random urge, most likely chalked up to teenage hormones and not because he’s going to miss him.

“Hurry up and cut your hair, dumbass Hinata,” says Kageyama.

It’s something he would say. Something that won’t ruin.. this. 

“I was just going to do that,” replies Hinata, making a face at him. “Geez.”

And again, it’s something routine and so used to. At least Kageyama can rely on that, in the midst of everything changing. Kageyama decides, as Hinata’s and his steps echo on the polished floorboards of the court, that he doesn’t want them- this- to change. 

—

Leagues

An average training day in Japan National Team Division 1 player Kageyama Tobio’s life goes like this:

6:30 - 7:00 AM - Wake up and get ready  

7:00 - 7:30 AM - Eat nutritionally-balanced breakfast 

7:30 - 8:00 AM - Head to Adlers practice

8:10 - 8:30 AM - Warm up

8:30 AM - 12:30 PM - Practice (drills, practice matches)

12:30 - 1:30 PM - Lunch

2:00 - 3:00 PM - Rest or Review/Strategy Planning (Physical Therapy on Wednesdays)

3:00 - 5:00 PM - Team meetings or Agency Stuff

5:00 - 6:30 PM - Cross-training (Gym on Tuesday-Thursdays, Running on Mondays)

6:30 - 9:00 PM - Head home and relax (??)

9:00 - 9:15 PM - Gentle stretches, write in volleyball journal, meditate

9:15 - 9:30 PM - Wash up and Get ready for bed

9:30 PM - Sleep for the next morning

Match days are different, though. It’s even more fast paced, with full days being inside different gymnasiums and volleyball courts. Kageyama likes those days better- the air charged with static electricity, pure adrenaline running through every vein as he sets, as he spikes, as he flies. They’re the days he doesn’t need to think about anything else. Just the game in front of him.

Training days are necessary. Kageyama knows they are. It’s not that he doesn’t like them. He’s done training days for so long, and now there’s no extra classes or homework or exams to get through to keep him from training.

But then, there are many days where he comes home to an empty apartment in Tokyo and just… doesn’t know what to do???

When will you have time to be a person?

It annoys him slightly to know Hinata was right about that. But how ironic that now that he does, he doesn’t know how to. Kageyama won’t ever tell him, though. He has a winning streak to keep up (812 wins to 805 losses- ha!).

The first two weeks as part of the Adlers were the roughest, Kageyama remembers. Taking in all these new experiences and people, and trying to build something recognizable from all of it. Professional athlete life is nothing like school at all. And it’s definitely nothing like Karasuno.

“You know, you’re not in Miyagi anymore, right?” says Miwa-neesan, when they have dinner for the first time he comes to Tokyo.

She’s 24 years old. An adult who cuts people’s hair for a living. An adult who roasts the shit out of him, but also pays for his dinner. He’s 19. He’s also an adult, but one that doesn’t know how to be a person. The chatter and clinking sounds of plates echo in Kageyama’s ears as his sister picks up a piece of salmon nigiri with her chopsticks. 

“I know…?” He says, as he picks up a piece of tuna. Lower fat. Higher protein. “So?”

Miwa-neesan rolls her eyes. “So go out. Go explore the city. Talk to your friends. Take the train all the way to the aquarium, or something. Hell, go meet new people. Friends. Enemies. Lovers.”

He squints at her. “Why would I do that?”

“Because it sounds like you have no idea what to do with your free time, stupid.” She stares at him, and wrinkles her nose for a second. “And if you don’t know what to do with all that time that used to be for school, you can just go out and do something about it.”

Kageyama pauses. He presses his fingers against the fluff of his sweater. He… wants to play volleyball, but he can’t always do that- risk of overtraining. He already does the cross-training stuff like running and gym time. He texts in the Karasuno group chat sometimes, too. And he’s not sure how to talk to people, outside of volleyball at least. Hinata’s the one who does all of that.

“Tobio-kun.”

The tone in his sister’s voice is so soft that Kageyama’s startled out of his thoughts. He looks up and meets her gaze, and it’s… something complicated. A little sad, but also happy. Fond.

“Stop overthinking it,” she says. “I’m not saying to throw away what you like to do. Just… see what sticks, you know?”

See what sticks. Kageyama places another piece of nigiri in his mouth and chews. Maybe he can do that.

—

So Kageyama does exactly that. He wakes up every morning and follows his routine. After, he does things and sees what sticks.

After a month or two, Kageyama knows what he doesn’t like, like taking extra courses for fun (like who does that?) or homework that has nothing to do with analyzing volleyball matches. He also doesn’t like pet-sitting, not because he doesn’t like pets but every time he goes to pet them, they run away. And that definitely doesn’t feel good. 

He doesn’t date. But he doesn’t want to think about why.

There’s more things he’s just okay with. He can deal with swimming, or basketball when he’s bored and the nearby gym has drop in sessions. Long walks at night are relatively pleasant, especially with all the different flashing lights and signs of city life. These things sort of stick into his routine, when he has nothing better to do.

He also is just okay when he goes out for dinner with the National Team, though he does appreciate the invite. It’s not the same as hanging out with Karasuno though. It’s never really the same.

He also doesn’t mind the fans. Apparently, women think he is attractive, which his teammates tease him about. Kageyama doesn’t really care what they think of him, but likes that they’re more interested in volleyball now.

What Kageyama does enjoy, to the surprise of the National Team, are the kid fans. There’s something so earnest about their shining eyes and buzzing energy in their little bodies in the few minutes they talk about volleyball with him. He can’t help but feel a soothing sense of familiarity when a kid calls him “so amazing”.

“You need to smile more, though,” chides one of his managers. She clicks her tongue when he tries. “Something less scary.”

Eventually, Kageyama figures out some sort of routine from it all. He goes out with the team when they go for drinks on Fridays, or dinner after matches. During lunch, he goes and eats with Ushijima. They make decent conversation from time to time, but also tolerate silence. Sometimes, he watches anime that Hinata recommends, or goes on walks on rest days. It’s a hodgepodge after work, and a weird mix of things.

Oh, and he texts Hinata. Mostly updates about their individual wins. Occasionally, a stupid selfie from the dumbass. At least that hasn’t changed.

—

Adlers

Kageyama is twenty-one when he sees Hinata again.

There’s a thrum of… something… at seeing his rival and best friend again. Excitement? Expectation? While he’s seen all the selfies and photo updates of his life in Rio de Janeiro, it’s still different for Kageyama to see Hinata Shoyo, orange hair and all, in the flesh outside the men’s bathroom before a match. Some things simply don’t change.

“I’m not the type of person who gets stomach troubles before a match,” says Hinata.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be, idiot,” he replies breezily.

Perhaps this is being an adult, Kageyama thinks. Being able to look at your best friend and longest rival and not want to immediately grab at them and squabble. Hinata’s gotten taller, too, and a lot more… calm.

Hinata’s eyes widen as he exclaims, “You really have grown up, haven’t you Kageyama!”

Ah. Yeah. This again.

They’re in the middle of a habitual competition when he hears a particular voice call out his name, almost sleazily. A 21-year old Miya Atsumu enters the picture, and Kageyama doesn’t miss the way the man leans an elbow on Hinata’s shoulder. He can’t stop his eyes from narrowing at the sight of it, even for a moment.

“Ya trying to start a fight with our wing spiker?” says Miya.

He doesn’t miss the way Miya emphasises the word. It makes Kageyama’s blood boil, especially with that snide look on the MSBY Jackal’s setter’s face. He doesn’t show it on his face, though. He’s not fifteen anymore. He doesn’t get upset when he doesn’t understand something.

The rest of the Monster Generation pop into the hallway at the commotion that is MSBY Jackal’s newest wing spiker: Hinata Shoyo. Kageyama notes, albeit proudly, how both Ushijima and Hoshiumi both compete with Hinata too.

They can’t match what they have, though- no one can.

—

The MSBY Jackals vs Schweiden Adlers match starts. It’s objectively insane. Ridiculously ridiculous, as Tanaka-san used to say when they were kids.

“I’m here!” Hinata shouts so loud. Because he is here. Not in Brazil, but here, in Sendai, playing a match against Kageyama. 

It’s insane.

It’s insane.

The ball threatens to never drop. The battle is evergreen. Kageyama gives his all. For the first time ever, knows that the game is going to last as long as possible, and it’s only because Hinata is here to make it happen.

Somebody better will want to play volleyball with me.

And when the Adlers lose, Kageyama is somehow still the happiest he’s ever been.

—

“Thanks for the game,” says Hinata.

Those are the words he says just before he skips to a stop in front of Kageyama. Sweat still drips off his skin, the way it does down Kageyama’s. He doesn’t miss the genuineness etched into the curves on the ginger’s lips.

It’s too much yet not enough to take in. For a moment, Kageyama considers reaching out to grab Hinata. Or throw a towel at him. Or call him dumb. Anything to keep him from looking so grown up.

But Hinata’s not the only one who’s grown. Kageyama nods back at him.

“Great game, Hinata,” he says.

That's all Kageyama can say, really. Because it takes two seconds and suddenly, Hinata’s calling the rest of their third year core group to “get over here, already!”. They’re greeted by cheers from Yachi and Yamaguchi, and a calmer Tsukishima.

“Do you still go for runs in the evening after matches, Kageyama?” Hinata turns to ask him, amidst the liveliness.

“Uh… yeah.” Kageyama blinks. “I still do. Why?”

Hinata grins. “I knew it. If your routine allows, you should join us. It’s going to be a Karasuno reunion dinner. Everyone’s here!”

Kageyama agrees. Obviously. He already knew of dinner plans beforehand, thanks to the ever reliable Yachi-san and her consistent managerial skills. All he needs to do now is finish some fan interactions, and then an Adlers meet, and off they go.

As he signs fans and lets them take photos and talk at him and his teammates, Kageyama can’t wrap his head around the same thought. That Hinata, after all this time, still remembers that he goes for an evening run after a match.

—

“KAMPAIIII!” Several voices clamor in unison. There’s the loud clinking of glasses, and peals of laughter and shrieks that pierce the scents of yakitori and alcohol. After several years, the original Karasuno Boy’s Volleyball Club team of 2012 are reunited.

There’s so much said that Kageyama can barely keep up. 

“Yeah, it can be a handful teaching kids but it’s also so fun-”

“No, I try not to take projects from them, it’s a complete pain to be truthful-”

“Really? Wow! I never thought he ended up in that kind of career-”

“-and it was great! My roommate Pedro was into anime and all-”

Once again, Hinata sits on Kageyama’s left side. A lot of them bombard Hinata with questions about his adventures. The izakaya is so full they all press closer than usual. Kageyama drinks his glass of beer, reminded momentarily of long bus rides, hazy orange-red tones of sunset, and views passing by faster than he can count. 

Only this time, they’re not teenage boys anymore. Instead, they’re young men- adults. They play volleyball professionally, and also drink a shit ton after matches. It’s what they are now, but Kageyama can’t help but feel so strange about it all.

It’s a weird, tangled up feeling in his gut. A part of Kageyama wishes he can get up and leave, go for a run until his lungs properly burn off whatever feeling threatens to dig deep into him.

But he doesn’t. Not when everything is almost back to what it was before. Not when everything feels so comfortingly familiar.

“Kageyama-kun!” He catches himself locking eyes with the doe-eyed Sugawara-san. The silver-haired senior flashes him a very cheeky grin, and holds up a bottle of shochu. “You’re too quiet for a good time! Can your favorite senpai pour you a drink?”

“Ah- yes, I can pour you one as well,” replies Kageyama.

“Don’t be so formal!” chides Sugawara-san. “Hinata- shochu!”

Hinata grins and holds a hand up. “Yes, thanks Sugawara-senpai!” 

Kageyama bows his head a bit, as does Hinata, as Sugawara-san pours them both a cup of liquor. He can’t help but notice how Hinata’s hair is shorter now, more cropped. And his arms are thicker now, more defined muscle instead of scrawny limbs.

And when Kageyama catches Sugawa staring at him, eyes flickering to his full cup, he feels his face flush. Quickly, he grabs his cup and downs the booze. It burns all the way down. He’s vaguely aware of Hinata making a noise as he also takes a shot.

“I didn’t know you drink like that, Kageyama,” teases Hinata. The man’s cheeks are very pink from the alcohol. It clashes with his hair. “I thought you’d be all ‘this doesn’t promote healthy muscle building for volleyball’, you know?”

The others laugh at Hinata’s impersonation of him. Hinata presses his hands against his hair, imitating Kageyama’s high school haircut, as if he still had those long, messy spikes to control. 

“Drinking really doesn’t, dumbass Hinata!” Out of habit, Kageyama feels his arm reach out to grab Hinata’s head. And in perfect response, Hinata ducks quickly.

“You two really haven’t changed, huh?” Sugawara-san observes serenely. There’s something in his expression. Something a bit too knowing for Kageyama’s liking. “It brings me back.”

It’s funny how much Kageyama agrees yet doesn’t.

—

The celebrations end way later than Kageyama anticipates, especially with the post-drinking conversation circle outside in the chilly November air. He never truly understands why they have to continue this long talking, but it’s nice to be around people he’s known for this long. Hinata stays by his side, too, which is… really nice.

Gradually, people trickle away and head home. Things like work and school in the morning. Kageyama should have been one of them. There’s still training tomorrow. The Adlers have another match in three days.

But he stays. Because Hinata stays too.

“Kageyama.”

He turns and sees Hinata looking right at him. There’s a small smile on his face, even if his eyes droop from exhaustion. His face is still flushed pink, peppered by the soft yellow twinkling lights of the holidays. He smells like shochu.

“How long are you in Sendai?”

“Uh… I’m staying for a few days.” Kageyama says. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, or the lights coloring Hinata’s face, but he just can’t stop staring. “Most of the Adlers are heading back to Tokyo next week after this league tournament. I have to take care of some family matters back home so I’ll be around a few days longer.”

“Oh, cool! I’m staying for a bit in Sendai too. Gonna spend time with Mom and Natsu,” says Hinata. Kageyama’s painfully aware how close Hinata suddenly is to him. “I think some of my teammates are staying here or going back to our hometowns for a bit, but then back to Osaka.”

“...yeah.”

My teammates, Hinata said. Not theirs. His teammates.

Hinata’s smile grows ever wider. Hinata’s face is still so pink, and every word smells like liquor.  “We should hang out then, since you’re here. After your training. For old times’ sake, you know?”

“Oh.” Kageyama’s heart picks up slightly. “Sure.”

For old times sake.

—

The next day, Hinata and Kageyama hang out after training. It’s funny, but throughout Kageyama’s morning, he half expects Hinata to barge into the gymnasium, the same way he once did as a teenager in a training camp he’s not invited to. He expects to look back and see a shrimpy kid with a personality big enough to make up for his stature demanding Kageyama break his routine and his time for him.

But Hinata doesn’t. He doesn’t because they’re no longer children. Instead, Hinata finishes his own training with the Jackals and waits for Kageyama at a restaurant near the Jozenji-dori. 

“Kageyama. Hi.” He says. 

He’s dressed warmly, a green scarf around his neck. Kageyama can’t help but wonder whatever happened to the scrawny thing he once knew. He also wonders what Hinata sees now from his view. How much has Kageyama himself changed?

“Hinata.” Kageyama says in reply. He wrestles with the habit of following up with ‘idiot’.

“No ‘dumbass’ today?” gasps Hinata. He makes a show, pretending to press a hand against his mouth as it hangs open. “You’re becoming so sweet. Have you really grown up that much?”

“Dumbass!” 

“There it is.”

“Can we just go already!” Kageyama feels his face heat up. “You idiot! You are so…”

All coy, Hinata looks at him. “I’m so what, Kageyama?”

Irritating. Annoying. Frustrating. The best thing to ever, ever happen to him.

“Oh shut up. Let’s go already.” Kageyama kisses his teeth and marches off, Hinata’s laugh and footsteps close beside him.

—

Throughout dinner, they catch up. With every bite of white rice and ginger pork, they go back to a years old dynamic built from habit and foundation. With every story, they oscillate between being fifteen and twenty-one.

Every time Kageyama looks at that warm face, he feels his stomach twist. It makes him want to scream. Want to throw hands and hurl whatever insult his brain can concoct onto the other guy.

He knows that, beneath all his angry, prickly bullshit, is something terrifying. Something that threatens to change everything they’ve ever built up until this point. Third year high school Kageyama at least had the sense to ignore it because Hinata was going to be far away, but shit, now?

Somebody even better will want to play volleyball with you.

Volleyball is your first love, right?

It scares him. And he’s not one to usually be scared. But Kageyama prides himself in his discipline, and goes back into his routine of swallowing up whatever fear that threatens to destroy him. Hinata, none the wiser.

—

“Uwah, I forget how pretty this part of Sendai is!” exclaims Hinata, after dinner. He throws up his fists in utter delight at the bright winter lights of the Jozenji-dori. “I’m gonna snap a picture for Heitor and Nice!”

The view is objectively pretty. Though the lights are the same old. Kageyama watches as Hinata pulls out his smartphone to take a couple of photos of the lights. 

“Kageyama!” Hinata suddenly cries out. He runs towards Kageyama, positions the phone high up, their faces staring up back at them. “Smile!” 

“Oh, we look good!” Hinata says, when he’s taken probably a hundred photos in the span of seconds. “Like this one! And this one. Oh… I like this one.”

He shows Kageyama one photo. It’s Hinata with his smile so wide, his eyes crinkle at the edges as he flashes a peace sign. Kageyama, on the other hand, doesn’t quite smile. Instead, he looks solemnly at the camera, gaze soft. 

“This would be an amazing spot for a date.”

Eyes widening, Kageyama turns to Hinata. The ginger shoves his hands into his pockets, his expression an iceberg Kageyama is unsure of its depths. “A date?”

“A date. You know, romance?” Hinata laughs. “A cute place to go for walks with a girl you like. Or guy. Or whoever you like. Did you know Sao Paolo is a really LGBTQ+ friendly city? I talked about visiting once with-”

Suddenly, Hinata’s words die down in his throat. His whole face turns red, and he averts his gaze. Kageyama’s eyes narrow at him.

“Visited once with…?” He prompts. A cold feeling spreads down his spine.

“Eh- um, well, okay I did think about visiting once but it was so unserious, but um, well- itwasbackwhenmeandOikawa-sanhadalittlethingIknowyoutwodidn’tgetalonginthepastbuthewaskindofcuteand-”

Kageyama’s brain stops. He only understands one word. One name, to be exact. 

“Oikawa-san?” He says, incredulously. His mouth feels like sandpaper. “And you?”

“It wasn’t serious, okay?” clarifies Hinata, still tomato red. “It was just a stupid thing. Remember when team Argentina came to train in Rio? Well, there was this one beach game where we got piss drunk after… and yeah. It’s whatever now, though. It’s not like we’re anything.”

“Huh.” 

It’s all that comes out of Kageyama’s mouth. His middle to high school rival hooking up with his long time best friend and rival? He can’t quite wrap his head around it. The same way he can’t understand why he’s starting to lose sensation in his fingertips.

“You’re… you’re not upset?” Hinata asks.

“No. It’s your life.” And it’s true. Kageyama isn’t upset. Not entirely. The feeling is something else. A combination of absolute shock and amazement that someone can just do that. Just let someone in so intimately, only for it to be “just a stupid thing”. “It’s just not something I’d do.”

“You’ve never dated, Kageyama?” Hinata’s eyes go wide. “Not even a little?”

“There was never any time.”

That’s… closer to a lie than anything Kageyama’s ever said. There was plenty of time, especially as a professional player. He knows Hinata knows that. But he’s also not lying. Meeting someone new would mean giving up time, and a lot of it. Besides, he likes his life as it is right now. It’s routine, and safe, and it can’t hurt him.

Hinata looks at him. Really looks at him. And for a moment, Kageyama resents him. Not for looking at him, but for coming into his life once again and threatening to wreck everything he’s ever known.

But then, Hinata starts nodding. “Makes sense. You’re like one of the most popular Adlers out there, yeah? I imagine you’re probably busy with all the press conferences and brand deals and things. I know Atsumu-kun experiences the same thing, but he still likes dating around.”

Kageyama raises an eyebrow and scoffs. “Miya-san makes weird decisions.”

“I know right!” Hinata giggles. “Can you imagine? He wants to date me!”

He what?

Clearly, Kageyama looks flabbergasted because it makes Hinata laugh some more. “Apparently, he’s sort of been interested in me since high school. Crazy, right? I didn’t say yes for now. It’s weird to date in the same team. Remember when that one couple in the soccer team broke up-”

For now. For now. For now.

Kageyama doesn’t remember the rest of the conversation. He’s unsure how they part ways, and how he ends up back again in his childhood home in Sendai. The only thing he does remember is his home is quiet and dark, as he always remembers it to be.

—

That night Kageyama does not sleep.

He’s haunted by the same thoughts. Oikawa and Hinata having a fling. Miya Atsumu wants to date Hinata. Hinata saying no for now. What does that even mean, for now? Does Hinata only say no because they’re in the same team? What if Miya-san and Hinata end up in different clubs? Would Hinata say yes then?

Would Hinata consider them as “just a thing”? What if Kageyama gives his heart, his foundation, his everything to him, only for Hinata to laugh it off like nothing at all? It will destroy him. More than being left behind, the echoes of a volleyball hitting PVC floors. The cracks wouldn’t burst from the ground, but from within.

Or worse- what if things change? And Kageyama can no longer recognize them?

It’s a terrible feeling that pierces his gut and freezes his limbs so badly, it might as well be a hailstorm inside his room in the middle of November.

—

Kageyama avoids Hinata for the next few days. He refuses to respond to any of his text messages. At one point, he stops opening their group chat messages too. 

He knows he’s being a coward (Coward-yama! Coward-yama!!), but he doesn’t care. Once again, he’s filling the role of being Hinata’s meanest friend.

—

“Did something happen, Kageyama-kun?” asks his captain, Fukuro Hirugami. 

Everything.

“Nothing,” is all he says.

—

Kageyama isn’t sure what he’s hoping to accomplish by avoiding Hinata. A few seconds not to think about everything he’s ever known about friendship? Love? But he should have known that it was going to come back to bite him in the ass.

So, when he sees Hinata Shoyo outside the Sendai Arena on the last day of the tournament, standing in all his 5”8 fury, he’s not really surprised. Disgruntled, maybe. Freaked the hell out? Yes. But surprised? No. It’s a stupid, childish thing to do for Hinata, but Kageyama Tobio is equally as stupid and childish to run away.

“You’re avoiding me!” He says coldly. Rage sits in his brown eyes, and it’s foreign. “You’ve been avoiding me! What the actual hell, Kageyama?”

He attempts to walk off, but Hinata’s hot on his trail. They’re microseconds off from a kicking and screaming match, but Kageyama refuses to let it happen. He knows if he opens his mouth he might say something he means. Or even worse, cry.

“I don’t get it. We were cool!” seethes Hinata, as people and places pass them by. Kageyama tries really, really hard to ignore him. “Then suddenly you just cut me off. What are we? Teenagers? Sooo mature, Kageyama.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Really? Because you were absolutely okay with talking to me before I opened up to you about my intimate life.” He snarls back at him. They’re suddenly back to the summer of 2012, fighting over everything and nothing. “Am I really that disgusting to you? Or am I just someone to keep you interested in volleyball?”

Kageyama says nothing, just keeps walking past. He wants to throttle Hinata. More than that, he wants everything to magically go away and for everything to go back to what it was before.

“I really thought we were still best friends.”

That. That stops Kageyama dead in his tracks. The sound of Hinata’s voice breaking. He turns around and is greeted by Hinata’s red-rimmed eyes, face twisted into a picture of anger and hurt. 

We are best friends, Kageyama wants to say. But he can’t make himself say it, even if he wants to. He’s cruel. He’s being cruel right now. It’s being fifteen all over again, yelling at a room and knowing you’ve said something absolutely awful.

This time, though, he’s acting as the king in the room. Instead, he’s playing the role of the world’s meanest friend. There’s no towel crown Hinata can ever fold for him here. He’s not even sure if Hinata would want to remain here, after all this.

“When I left for Brazil, you barely texted back,” continues Hinata. His voice shifts and turns weary. “And we hang out one on one for the first time in literal years, and you just ghost me. Is it because it’s Oikawa? Because I don’t know what you want me to do about that other than say sorry. Or is it because I like both men and-”

Men. Kageyama fights the urge to rub at his face. Women. Oikawa Tooru. Miya Atsumu.

He hates everyone. Most of all, he hates himself.

“Because I wish it was me.”

The words leave Kageyama’s mouth. It shocks them both. Hinata’s eyes go big, and mouth hangs open. Kageyama realizes he’s crossed a line he can never ever go back from. But it’s also too late.

Is volleyball really his first love? Or is it the man in front of him?

“I wish it was me,” he repeats. All his words tremble and his eyes burn- goddamnit why now. “Not Miya-san or Oikawa. Me. So please, Hinata just… leave me alone.”

He walks off. Hinata doesn’t follow.

—

Once again, he’s up all night.

Kageyama stares at the black screen of his phone. There are exactly two more days until he needs to return to Tokyo. Two more days until he can leave Sendai behind and forget how he single-handedly destroyed his friendship with one of the only people who ever bothered to understand him.

Deep down, he hopes that Hinata will call. Or text. Or even send a dumb meme to the chat. Something to prove Kageyama wrong. Something to show that maybe Kageyama isn’t the dumbest man alive.

He waits for the glare of blue light against the darkness. But it doesn’t come.

—

The next day comes. Sunday. So Kageyama follows his rest day routine. Once he’s done with his morning jog and breakfast, he spends the next hour packing his things.

His mother briefly comes over to hand him a plate of cut up apples before she leaves for her work trip to Fukushima, and he accepts it. He’s too old for her to be doing that, but he accepts because it’s the only way he can ever say he loves her too.

His phone pings throughout the day. It’s nothing important though. A few messages from the Adler’s group chat, a few emails from his agent and their PR team about some press conference they want to hold in mid-January.

No messages from Hinata. Not even their Karasuno group chat, aside from a random meme Yachi-san sends around 10 AM.

Idiot, Kageyama berates himself internally. He really is one. The biggest one of all, even. 

Throughout the day, his finger hovers the message button on his phone. I’m sorry. He wants to text. He hates texting, but wants to do this. I’m really sorry, Hinata. Please just forget everything I said. You can go kiss whoever you want.

He ends up deleting the message. Every. Single. Time. Because he’s a dumbass.

—

It’s boring, though, to mope around the house. At some point, Kageyama ends up putting on some warm sweatpants and a loose old sweater that still fits him from high school, and heads outside. The air is chilly, and the sun slowly starts to descend from its place in the sky. 

Kageyama just… wanders. With every step, he thinks of everything and nothing, all at the same time. Thoughts and memories and sensations flash through his mind so quickly, it blends altogether into some measly static. 

He walks and walks, until it slowly dawns on him that he recognizes the landscape he’s walking through. The white walled three story buildings. The same old low grey concrete walls. Karasuno High.

Out of habit, Kageyama follows the same pathways to the back of the school. It’s Sunday, so he doesn’t expect anyone to be there. Though it’s still a nice sense of nostalgia to see his alma mater volleyball gymnasium.

He’s about to turn into the area from the street when he sees someone standing inside. It’s a man staring up at the building. Kageyama feels his heart stop at the sight. His hair is short and tangerine-like.

Their gazes meet. Kageyama feels the air knock out of his lungs. Just when he thinks he will never see him again, Hinata is there.

Hinata holds his stare. So does Kageyama, even when he can’t read exactly what Hinata is feeling. At that moment, Kageyama doesn’t dare look away. That would mean defeat. He may have made the most stupid mistake known to man in their friendship, but he still hates losing.

Quickly, he sees Hinata’s gaze flicker towards the club room, then back at him.

And in that moment, Kageyama just knows what to do.

They bolt. Like lightning. Like two damn idiots. Like they’re once again fifteen year old boys with nothing but themselves to prove to the rest of the world. With every step towards the club room, Kageyama forgets growing up. He’s just a boy with his best friend. And first love.

Hinata makes it first, but Kageyama follows only a second behind him. Both of them collide into the concrete with a yell.

Then, there’s silence between them. It’s only pierced by the soft sounds of their heavy breathing. Kageyama enjoys it as much as he can. It’s only a matter of time before the spell is broken, and Hinata remembers exactly who his meanest friend is.

Out of nowhere, Hinata just starts laughing. 

Kageyama rolls on his side to see the tangerine-head laugh. As in, the man is fully clutching his belly and wheezing as if Kageyama told him the world’s funniest joke. It’s absolutely bizarre. He can’t help but stare in increasing bafflement, not understanding exactly what was so hilarious here.

“One thousand and ninety-eight wins,” He gasps between giggles. “And one thousand one hundred losses for me.”

“Ninety-eight!?” Kageyama points out as he sits up. His eyes narrow at the man lying beside him. His math may be crap, but he knows a false count when he hears one. “When did you win the eighth-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. More of, he can’t. Because suddenly Hinata’s hands are on the sides of his face and they’re kissing. It’s so strong that Kageyama finds himself shoved back on the floor again, lips and tongue occupied.

“Bakageyama,” Hinata whisper-laughs against his mouth as they break apart to catch their breath. “You like me back. My Bakageyama.”

They kiss and kiss. It’s hot and it’s messy, and Kageyama just lets it. It’s only when Hinata’s hands start to wander down his sides that Kageyama realizes what exactly is happening.

“Wait! Just wait!” He grabs Hinata’s hand in cold panic. “Doesn’t this bother you?”

Hinata wrinkles his face in confusion. “What does? Making out outside our old club room?”

“No! Actually, kinda, this is not the place-,” Kageyama tries in vain to collect his thoughts. His heart threatens to race out of his chest. “You- this- Aren’t you scared, Hinata you dumbass?”

The orange-haired man in front of him tilts his head to one side. His face looks thoroughly amused, as if Kageyama said a cool volleyball fact. “We’ve liked each other since we were in high school. And don’t be surprised, I’ve always seen the way you look at me. Why would I be scared?”

Of course Hinata wouldn’t be scared. Hinata’s everyone’s pocketful of sunshine. Making friends wherever he goes is second nature to him. He’s not mean and weird and hard to befriend like Kageyama is. Losing Kageyama wouldn’t be hard for him. Not the same way losing Hinata would be hard for Kageyama.

“You’re my best friend,” says Kageyama quietly. Desperately. “You’re… what if all of this… what if we… change?”

What if we don’t work out? What then?

A pause. Then, a soft chuckle from Hinata. His face is so, so fond as he strokes Kageyama’s hair.

“But we have changed, Yamayama,” says Hinata.

“I know that, but…”

But you’re important to me.

“You know, I’d like to think that if I was your closest friend even when you were the meanest king of the court,” interjects Hinata. “I can continue to be your closest friend even now, when you’re more emotionally well-adjusted. Oh, and so much more handsome.”

“I’d fuck up your immaculate daily routine though,” he adds, before Kageyama can register the emotional bomb that just dropped on him. “I try hard but sometimes I just don’t feel like doing disciplined things outside of work, some days. Though I’ve been a lot better at taking care of myself. Will you still have me then, Kageyama Tobio?”

He kisses Hinata then. What a dumbass question.

—

“Are you sure?” Kageyama asks again, when they both stumble into his empty childhood home. Into his childhood bedroom. The air electric between them. “Are you really sure?”

“Seriously, Kageyama, just let me lead this time,” replies Hinata as his hands go down Kageyama’s pants, making him shiver. “Oh.”

“What! Is something wrong with it?”

“No,” says Hinata gleefully as he takes Kageyama’s member into his own hand. Holy shit. Holy shit. “You’re just bigger than anyone I’ve ever taken before.”

Rather immaturely, Kageyama celebrates this win. Then there’s a mouth around him, and nothing matters.

—

“Ah- Ahn-!”

Hinata’s hoarse against him. Kageyama presses his face against the untanned part of Hinata’s back. It’s blazing hot inside of Hinata. He can feel every whimper and every quiver. Kageyama thinks he’s the luckiest man alive.

It feels good. So, so good. Kageyama decides to snap his hips a little harder, earning a loud wail underneath him and a smack on the arm.

“T-Tobio!” Hinata cries out, squeezing him so tightly it almost hurts. “Stop being mean!”

Kageyama kisses him instead. Holds him close through every guttural moan they both utter. Fingers intertwined as they explore the novelty of each other’s bodies and first names on their tongues. He can’t help being mean, sometimes. But tonight, he learns he can also be loving.

—

“Osaka and Tokyo are really far away, if you think of it,” says Hinata sleepily, later after all the sheets have been put into the wash. “We didn't have bullet trains in Rio.”

“Mm,” replies Kageyama quietly. “You can just stay with me in my apartment in Tokyo, if you’re ever around.”

“And you with mine, in Osaka.”

“Deal.”

He relishes the relaxedness of the afterglow. As Hinata lazily strokes his hair, he tries not to think of how he could have been having more sex if he wasn't so scared. Truthfully, Kageyama is still scared. Everything feels too good to be true.

“Ka- Tobio?”

“Hm?” 

“I’m here,” whispers Hinata. “At least for right now.”

Kageyama rolls his eyes lightly. “Of course you are, Shoyo. You’re with me.”

—

The next morning, Kageyama tries to get out of his bed at his usual time. Before he can, a strong arm reaches out and pulls him back to bed. He may be a strong man, but he’s not immune to weakness.

“Dumbass!” Kageyama scolds him, when they rush to catch their respective train from Sendai back into the metropolis. They almost miss the train. How stupid. To risk it all for just a few more minutes of cuddling.

As annoyed as he is, he still kisses Hinata goodbye.

—

Six Months Later

It’s 7:30 AM on a Sunday, and Kageyama stirs. The morning light creeps from the sliver between the curtains into the room. 

He turns his head to see a messy bird’s nest of orange hair on the pillow beside him. Kageyama reaches from the sheets to gently pat the sleeping Hinata on the head.  As he does, he hears the faint sound of snoring.

It’s Sunday, so it’s a rest day. Kageyama goes through the motions. He washes up and gets changed. He wanders through the kitchen, with a big yawn, as he places a coffee pod into the machine and starts his morning.

Tap. Tap. Kageyama later hears the sound of quiet footsteps as he’s busy getting through the messages on his phone. Thump. He feels a gentle weight on the crook of his neck and shoulder. The arms around his waist. The lazy press of lips against his cheek.

“Mmph,” goes Hinata in sleepy response, as Kageyama slides him the cup he made for him. “We were gonna go watch a movie later right?”

“Yeah.” Kageyama confirms. 

“Can we just stay home today? I’m tired.”

So they do. They watch some random things on the couch as Hinata presses himself beside him. Kageyama rolls his eyes in exasperation as Hinata takes forever to scroll through the options and finally hands the remote to him to decide instead.

After lunch, Hinata suddenly turns to Kageyama, a glint in his eye. “Let’s do some serve practice at the park nearby!”

“I thought you were tired?” says Kageyama, raising an eyebrow.

Hinata grins. “I changed my mind!”

“Dumbass.”

But there’s no bite. Just softness. It earns him a cheeky smile, and a quick peck on the lips. 

—

Kageyama knows his routine is no longer perfect. More often than not, it’s a steady foundation that Hinata just happens to wreck every so often. He tries not to, but he usually does.

But Kageyama doesn’t mind.