Chapter Text
The early summer sun glinted off the pavement as Karasuno and Nekoma formed neat lines outside the gym.
A quiet intensity hummed through the air—five years had passed since Neko-Karasu last match. The two teams faced off, crows and cats ready to clash again.
Hinata—her fiery orange ponytail bobbing behind her—scanned the opposing roster, excitement coursing through her veins.
And then she saw him.
Blond hair. Slouched posture. Eyes flicking down to a handheld console in his pocket like he wished he could disappear into it.
Her jaw dropped. “No way!” Hinata breathed.
The boy from yesterday.
The one she’d met in the middle of the street, who talked about video games and spoke so softly it made her lean in to hear.
Her heart jerked. It was the boy from yesterday!
Her jaw practically dropped. No way.
“Hey!” she blurted, loud enough to startle a few teammates. She pointed at him like she'd caught him stealing something. “You’re with Nekoma?!”
Kenma flinched under the sudden attention, his eyes darting to the side, then to the ground. “Yeah,” he mumbled, voice almost inaudible.
Hinata stormed across the invisible boundary between teams, stopping just short of his personal space. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Kenma’s shoulders curled inwards. “Because… you didn’t ask.”
Hinata's eyebrows shot up. “But you said, ‘See you soon’ You must’ve known something.”
Kenma scratched the back of his neck, clearly wishing he were anywhere else. “Your t-shirt said ‘Karasuno High School.’”
Hinata blinked at his words, her brows pulling together. Maybe there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes—small, but unmistakable.
Honestly, she didn’t know why she was reacting like this.
They were practically strangers.
But still... they had talked. They’d had a good vibe, hadn’t they? It wasn’t just her imagining it.
So yeah—it felt a little like betrayal.
It had been one thing to see two girls standing among Karasuno’s team when they first arrived—already an unusual sight on a competitive boys' team.
The cute short one, all fire and motion, eyes wide and filled with energy. The pretty girl with the glasses, cool and collected at the back, blended into the team like she belonged there.
But this?
A full-on scene had just happened.
Between Kenma—Nekoma’s quiet, cat-like setter who avoided social interaction like it was a virus—and a girl. Not just any girl. A girl from Karasuno. An opponent. In front of everybody.
Nekoma? Nekoma lost it.
The moment Hinata’s voice rang out—"Hey, you’re with Nekoma?!"—followed by her very public confrontation with Kenma, every head on Nekoma’s side turned.
Kenma, as always, was not built for public spectacle. His ears were pink, his eyes avoiding everyone and everything.
But it was too late.
The attention had found him—and so had Yamamoto.
“WHAAAAAT?!”
The roar came from Nekoma’s side, sharp and loud enough to make Hinata flinch so hard she nearly stumbled back.
A tall, energetic player with a shaved head—Yamamoto Taketora—exploded toward Kenma, face a blend of awe, shock, and... was he crying right now?!
“KENMA!!” Yamamoto’s voice cracked at least twice as he pointed dramatically at Kenma like he was accusing him of treason. “KENMA! WHAT!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?!”
Kenma flinched. “Stop yelling…”
“STOP YELLING?!” Yamamoto repeated at an even higher pitch.
“I WILL NOT STOP YELLING! DID I JUST WATCH YOU HAVING A CONVERSATION WITH THIS CUTE TINY GIRL FROM THE ENEMY TEAM?!”
“Her name is Hinata...” Kenma mumbled.
“YOU KNOW HER NAME?!?”
Yamamoto shouted, grabbing the poor setter by the shoulders and shaking him like a maraca.
Yaku was no better. “Wait, wait, wait—since when do you know girls?! Is she your girlfriend?! How—how did this happen? We’ve been staying in the same building this whole time and you never said anything!”
“Wait, wait, wait—what!!! Kenma has a girlfriend?!” Inuoka couldn't believe his ears.
“How’d they meet? Don’t tell me it was over video games—oh my, it was over video games, wasn’t it?!” Kai said.
“Kenmaaaa, you sly cat!” Yaku said.
Fukunaga, ever quiet, tilted his head slightly and said, “...Kenma's got game.”
Kenma looked like he wanted to die on the spot.
His face was redder than a Nekoma jersey.
“S-She’s not my girlfriend!” he yelled, trying to dodge Yamamoto’s hands and failing miserably. “We just talked!”
“Bro, she looked mad at you!” Yamamoto shouted again. “You got in trouble with a girl you’re not even dating yet!”
Fukunaga gave a soft hum. “...Dramatic.”
Kenma shot him a side glance. “You're not helping!”
Kuroo, arms folded across his chest, smirked. “You looked like you got caught sneaking out after curfew.”
Yamamoto finally turned to the others, still stunned. “That cute girl just called him out like they were exes or something. Did anyone else see that?!”
“Everyone saw it, idiot,” Yaku snapped. “The entire building saw it.”
Fukunaga, silent as ever, just stood there, watching Kenma. “...That was the most social interaction I’ve ever seen you have in my life.”
Everyone paused for half a beat, stunned at the truth of it.
Then Yamamoto lost his mind again.
“KENMA’S BEEN HOLDING OUT ON US! HE HAS A SECRET GIRLFRIEND FROM KARASUNO!”
“She’s not my girlfriend!” Kenma snapped, ears turning red.
“You talked! You bantered! There was emotion! That’s basically marriage in Kenma-language!” Yamamoto yelled.
“I hate all of you,” Kenma muttered.
Kuroo clapped a hand on Kenma’s shoulder, still grinning. “Too late. This is the most alive Yamamoto’s been all week. You’ve doomed us all.”
Hinata’s face turned the color of a tomato. “Wha—No! I’m not—!!”
And then it hit Karasuno.
They had seen the exchange.
They had heard the yelling.
They had watched their tiny firecracker of a middle blocker march up to a stranger from Nekoma, confront him, get weirdly emotional, looking like someone had personally offended her honor.
And now, Nekoma was howling about “Kenma’s girlfriend,” and poor Hinata had just exploded with a flustered denial.
Karasuno detonated.
“WAIT—WHAT?!?!”
Tanaka nearly choked on his own spit, whipping his head around to stare at Hinata like she’d grown a second head. “HINATA, WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! GIRLFRIEND?!”
“I-I DIDN’T SAY THAT!” Hinata screeched, waving her arms in pure panic. “THEY said it—NOT ME!”
Nishinoya gasped so hard it was audible. “OUR LITTLE HINATA IS IN A CROSS-TEAM LOVE AFFAIR?!”
“I AM NOT!” she wailed.
Sugawara, eyes wide and sparkling with far too much amusement, leaned over to Daichi and whispered, “Should we call it ‘VolleyLove’ or ‘Enemy Setter x Tiny Spiker’?”
Daichi ran a hand over his face. “Can we not start a fan club in the middle of a practice match?!”
“Too late!” Nishinoya cried, practically vibrating with excitement. “I ship it!!”
Asahi looked genuinely distressed. “Wait... is this allowed?”
“Of course it’s allowed!” Tanaka shouted. “But only if he treats her right!”
“HE’S JUST A GUY WHO LIKES VIDEO GAMES!” Hinata shouted back, red in the face, hands flailing like she was trying to bat away a swarm of bees.
“Ohhh, so you did talk to him,” Nishinoya and Tanaka were killing Hinata. “He must’ve made quite the impression.”
They had these silly faces.
“He didn’t! He—he tricked me! Kind of!”
“Kinda sounds like he wooed you,” Nishinoya whispered with wide, dramatic eyes.
“NO ONE WOOED ANYONE!”
Kageyama, who had remained weirdly silent through most of this, finally turned and looked at Hinata like he just remembered something.
“…Is that why you were distracted this morning?”
Hinata looked like she was about to throw her kneepads at someone.
“That’s it!” she shouted. “We’re done talking about this! Focus on the match!!”
She stomped toward the gym with a face like molten lava.
Sugawara leaned toward Daichi again. “Think we’ll get to meet him after the game?”
“Only if we survive Hinata’s wrath,” Daichi said dryly.
Tanaka and Noya already had nicknames prepared.
“Blonde Gamer Boyfriend.”
“The Cat She Tamed.”
They were still whispering them as they filed into the gym.
And in the middle of it all, Hinata buried her face in her hands.
And on Kenma's side, things weren't any better.
The gym doors slid open with a metallic rattle, and both teams filed in under the soft screech of their sneakers on the polished floor.
But the chaos didn’t stay outside.
“Kenmaaaa,” Yamamoto hissed in a stage whisper, still vibrating with energy as they crossed the court to their warm-up spots. “You didn’t deny she was cute.”
“I didn’t say she was cute,” Kenma grumbled, eyes avoiding everyone.
“But you didn’t say she wasn’t,” muttered Inuoka, nudging Fukunaga, who only nodded sagely with a quiet, “Hmm.”
"I'm going to hack your phone if you don't shut up," Kenma said flatly.
“Romantic and threatening,” Yamamoto said, mock-swooning. “He really has changed.”
Over on Karasuno’s side, Hinata had just tied her shoelaces so tight her foot was going numb.
“You’ve been betrayed by a gamer, Hinata,” Tanaka said solemnly, eyes blazing with exaggerated emotion. “Say the word and Noya and I will take him down.”
“Operation Cat Smack,” Nishinoya whispered, fists clenched.
“I’m fine!” Hinata barked, still blushing furiously. “It was just a misunderstanding!”
Before things could escalate into a full dramatic reenactment, Daichi stepped in, arms crossed and voice calm but firm.
“Enough,” he said, and it cut through the teasing like a knife. “Let it go. We have a match to focus on.”
Tanaka and Noya froze mid-scheme. Even Hinata paused, the tension in her shoulders slowly relaxing.
Daichi looked at each of them in turn. "Let me be frank. We've all just met. We're awkward and fragmented. But regardless, we're facing our first match. We know nothing about Nekoma's team, nor the kind of walls we'll hit. But when we find a wall, that's our chance to jump over it."
His eyes met Hinata’s for a second. “So keep your heads in the game.”
Across the net, Kuroo clapped once, drawing Nekoma’s attention.
“All right, cats,” he said with a grin. “Say it with me.”
Kenma’s shoulders sank visibly. “Do we have to—”
“We're like the blood in our veins.” Kuroo began, loud and proud. "We must flow without stopping. Keep the oxygen moving and your mind working. Let's do this!"
The rest of Nekoma joined in with a chorus of, “Yeah!”
Kenma mumbled, “This is so embarrassing...”
“Don’t be like that,” Yaku said, slapping him lightly on the back. “It gets us in the zone.”
“I’m already in the zone,” Kenma muttered. “You’re pulling me out of it.”
“Too late!” Yamamoto chimed. “You’re connecting whether you like it or not!”
Kenma groaned.
The whistle blew. Both teams snapped to attention.
The court fell into silence.
And just like that, the match was about to begin.
The air was electric.
Whatever tension had lingered from earlier now coiled into focus. The teasing, the questions, the red faces — all burned away under the sharp light of the gym and the thrill of competition.
This was what they came here for.
And neither side planned to lose.
Karasuno shifted into formation on one side of the net.
And then—
“Wait… she’s playing?!?!” The words burst out of Yamamoto before he could stop them, loud and full of disbelief.
Nekoma’s entire front row had snapped their eyes to Hinata.
There she stood, just across the net. The same tiny orange-haired girl they’d seen outside, the one who’d marched up to Kenma like she knew him in a past life, the one who had emotionally stunned their usually unshakeable setter.
Only now, she was in a jersey. Kneepads on. Eyes focused.
“Wait. Hold up.” Inuoka blinked like he was seeing a glitch in the game. “She’s not the manager?”
“I thought she was like the pretty girl with glasses,” whispered Yaku, pointing subtly toward Kiyoko, who was holding the clipboard on Karasuno’s bench.
“Same!” Yamamoto nodded. “The energy was so manager-coded!”
“Noooope,” Kuroo said, grinning as he leaned back slightly, arms crossed over his chest. “She's on the court. That means she’s a player.”
Kenma stared across the net, amber eyes fixed on the short girl now bouncing lightly on her toes, focused, ready to spring.
He felt it, deep in his gut.
He’d hoped she might be something more when they met yesterday—her energy too wild, too bright to just be someone handing out towels.
But this? He hadn’t seen it coming.
Still… it kind of made sense.
Of course it was her.
“I’m sorry,” Yamamoto said, holding up both hands like he needed to call a timeout on reality. “We’re seriously about to go head-to-head with Kenma’s girlfriend?!”
“She’s not my girlfriend!” Kenma hissed through clenched teeth, mortified.
Yamamoto ignored him completely, talking louder now. “This is messed up! You can’t fight your own heart on the battlefield, Kenma! That’s betrayal to the soul!”
Kenma turned slowly toward him, his expression blank but his tone seething. “If you keep talking, I'm going to reveal all your secrets to the world.”
“Oh my--Kenma’s got protective boyfriend energy!” Yamamoto howled.
“Shut up!” Kenma hissed again, but his ears were turning red, and the damage was done.
Meanwhile, the rest of Nekoma still looked stunned, staring at Hinata like she’d just stepped out of an alternate universe.
“She’s so short,” Inuoka muttered.
“But she’s got that wild spark,” Kuroo added with a glint in his eye. “This is gonna be fun.”
"Oh, one last thing guys!" Yamamoto started off dramatic, as always. "Final reminder before we go in—Karasuno’s number 10? Yeah. Super cute. But!” He paused, holding up a finger like he was making a solemn announcement. “She belongs to Kenma. So no drooling! Eyes up, hearts locked.”
The entire team broke into chaos.
“WHAT—” Kenma jerked upright, his face went bright red. “I—What are you talking about?!”
“You did not just say that out loud.” Kai said.
Yaku, wide-eyed, whispered, “But she really is cute though.”
Fukunaga gave a deadpan, “...Mm,” which somehow made it worse.
Kuroo grinned, ever the instigator. “Rules are rules, Kenma. Yamamoto’s got a point.”
“I hate all of you,” Kenma muttered.
Yamamoto just beamed. “It’s okay, man. We support your forbidden romance.”
Kenma didn’t respond—mostly because he was too busy considering the possibility of jumping ship to another school.
On the other side of the net, Hinata glanced up—locked eyes with Kenma for the briefest second—and smirked.
Kenma blinked.
She didn’t look embarrassed anymore.
She looked excited.
And that—that—made Kenma straighten up.
Because maybe Yamamoto was being dramatic (he always was), but this wasn’t just a game anymore.
This was about to get interesting.
The ball sailed from Kenma’s hand with quiet precision.
It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t showy. Just exactly where it needed to go.
Asahi stepped in to receive—
Thud.
The ball hit his arms and rebounded higher than intended, too much spin.
“Oi! Asahi-san!!” Nishinoya barked from the back, eyes wide. “That's what you get for ditching a month!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Asahi winced, already moving back into position.
But the chaos didn’t matter.
Because Kageyama was already under it.
The second his fingers touched it, Hinata was gone.
A blur.
She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t check the toss. Her eyes were closed—and she still jumped.
Faster than anyone could react.
CRACK.
The ball slammed into Nekoma’s court like lightning off a rail.
It tore past Kenma’s left shoulder so fast it ruffled his hair.
Not one part of him had even twitched in time.
The ball hit hardwood.
Whistle.
Silence.
Then—
“What just—!!” Yamamoto stuttered, eyes wide.
Inuoka flinched so hard he nearly stumbled. “That was—! That was crazy fast! How?!”
Yaku’s eyes were wide. “A quick attack from a place like that?!” He turned to Kuroo, disbelief in every syllable. “How’d they pull that off?”
On the sidelines, Nekomata's jaw was on the floor. "What the heck was that?! Your girl jumped with her eyes shut. She couldn’t have seen the set!”
Takeda and Ukai giggled in pleasure at seeing how their opponents were taken by surprise.
Back on court, Kuroo was the first to snap out of it. “Well, crap,” he muttered. “They’ve got that kind of weapon?”
Yaku nodded, still staring at Hinata like she was some kind of volleyball cryptid. “She’s fast. Faster than I expected.”
Kenma remained still, amber eyes on the girl who had just landed light as a feather on Karasuno’s side of the net. She bounced back into formation with a grin, turning just slightly to glance his way.
He blinked once.
“She’s good,” he said calmly, mostly to himself.
“She’s insane!!” Yamamoto replied, shaking his head.
Kenma’s gaze lingered, not on her smile, but on the steps before it. The way she’d leaned in, the rhythm of her run-up. The point of contact.
Quietly, behind narrowed eyes, he began calculating.
She jumps before the toss is even made. They rely on perfect timing. If I break that rhythm—
He kept his thoughts to himself.
Kenma’s heart was racing.
Not pounding from nerves—but something else. Something wired into his spine.
He couldn’t even name the feeling.
But the echo of that smack was still ringing in his ears.
And then—
“Nice quick,” he called softly toward the net.
Hinata lit up. “Thanks!”
But even as she smiled, Kenma’s brain was already tearing the move apart.
He wasn’t loud. He wasn’t flashy.
But he was watching.
And the next time they tried it—
He’d be ready.
X