Chapter Text
Hinata had a good time at dinner.
That was the part he kept reminding himself of when he got back to his apartment and found himself checking his phone.
He had laughed more than he expected to. Ren was funny in a dry, unexpected way, and the others had spent nearly twenty minutes arguing over which restaurant had the worst food in the city. Hinata had contributed an extremely passionate defense of a little ramen place near the training facility, which had apparently offended Ren on a personal level.
It had been normal.
Easy.
And for a few hours, Hinata hadn't spent every second wondering whether Kageyama was okay.
He was proud of himself for that.
He was also, unfortunately, staring at his messages.
**Kageyama:** Have fun tonight.
**Hinata:** thanks!! see you tomorrow :)
That was it.
Two messages. Nothing unusual. Nothing to analyze.
Hinata locked his phone and tossed it onto his couch.
Three seconds later, he picked it up again.
"Oh, come on," he muttered to himself.
He wasn't going to send another message. He wasn't going to ask Kageyama if he was upset, because Kageyama hadn't said he was upset. He wasn't going to turn a perfectly ordinary evening into another conversation about their feelings.
He was learning.
Apparently, learning was annoying.
His phone buzzed.
**Ren:** You survived the group dinner. Impressive.
Hinata grinned and typed back.
**Hinata:** barely. I think I permanently damaged my throat arguing about ramen.
**Ren:** Your defense was terrible, by the way.
**Hinata:** BLOCKED.
Ren sent a laughing emoji.
Hinata set his phone down for real this time and went to shower.
He didn't know that, across the city, Kageyama had been staring at his own phone for almost an hour.
Not because he expected a message.
He kept telling himself that.
He had sent Hinata a perfectly normal text. Hinata had answered. There was no reason for him to expect anything else.
Still, when his screen lit up with a notification from the team group chat, his hand moved before he could think.
It wasn't Hinata.
It was Bokuto.
**Bokuto:** EVERYONE SHOULD TRY THE NEW RAMEN PLACE NEAR THE STATION IT'S AMAZING
**Atsumu:** You say that about every place you eat at.
**Bokuto:** AND I'M RIGHT EVERY TIME.
Kageyama stared at the messages.
He wondered if Hinata had enjoyed dinner. Whether Ren had made him laugh. Whether Hinata had talked about him at all.
Then he felt stupid.
Hinata was allowed to have a life. He was allowed to go to dinner with teammates, make new friends, and laugh at jokes that had nothing to do with volleyball or the complicated mess between them.
Kageyama had wanted Hinata to stop treating him like someone who was waiting around for him.
Now Hinata was doing exactly that.
So why did it feel like losing something?
He turned his phone facedown.
"You're being ridiculous," he told his empty apartment.
The apartment, unhelpfully, did not disagree.
---
The next morning, Hinata arrived at practice with two coffees.
He had bought one for himself and one for Atsumu, who had complained the previous afternoon that nobody appreciated the sacrifices he made for the team.
Kageyama was already there.
Hinata saw him near the court, stretching with his headphones in. For one brief second, he considered buying him breakfast too.
Then he remembered what Kageyama had told him.
You don't have to do things like that.
Hinata wasn't sure if Kageyama had meant the coffee, the breakfast, the constant attempts to be thoughtful, or all of it. Either way, he decided not to make another gesture just because he was anxious about where they stood.
Instead, he walked over.
"Morning, Kageyama."
Kageyama pulled one earbud out. "You're late."
Hinata checked the clock. "I'm twelve minutes early."
"Could've been earlier."
"Good morning to you too, Your Majesty."
Kageyama's mouth twitched.
It was small. Barely there.
Hinata noticed it anyway.
He didn't point it out.
"How was dinner?" Kageyama asked.
The question came so casually that Hinata almost missed it.
"Good!" he answered. "We argued about ramen for, like, twenty minutes. Ren thinks the place I like is overrated."
"He's right."
Hinata gasped. "You haven't even been there!"
"I don't have to go there to know your taste is terrible."
"You literally eat the same three meals every week!"
"They're good meals."
"They're boring meals."
"They're reliable."
Hinata laughed, and for a moment, it felt like old times.
Then the conversation stopped.
Not because either of them had run out of things to say. Hinata had about a thousand things he could have asked. He wanted to know whether Kageyama had slept well, whether his shoulder was still bothering him, and whether he had watched the match footage they had been assigned.
But he was beginning to understand that he couldn't fill every silence just because he was afraid of what might happen inside it.
Kageyama returned to stretching.
Hinata took a step back. "I'm gonna warm up."
"Okay."
He walked away without looking back.
Kageyama watched him go.
He had asked about dinner because he wanted to know. He had expected Hinata to mention Ren, and he had prepared himself to hear about how funny Ren was or how much Hinata enjoyed spending time with him.
Instead, Hinata had answered honestly and then gone back to his own morning.
No teasing. No attempt to make Kageyama jealous. No reassurance that Ren didn't mean anything.
Kageyama wasn't sure whether that made him feel better or worse.
Probably both.
---
Practice was rough.
Not because anyone was playing badly, but because the coaches had decided to spend the morning running drills until everyone was tired enough to stop thinking and start reacting.
Hinata loved it.
Kageyama pretended not to love it.
By the end of the session, Hinata's shirt was damp with sweat, his legs ached, and he was pretty sure he had swallowed half the gym's air.
"You're slowing down," Kageyama said as they collected the balls.
Hinata bent over, hands on his knees. "I'm going to throw this ball at your head."
"You'd miss."
"I'd make sure I didn't."
"You'd still miss."
Hinata straightened. "You know what? I hope you get paired with Atsumu for the next drill."
Kageyama's expression turned genuinely offended. "That's too far."
Hinata burst out laughing.
And Kageyama laughed too.
It lasted maybe two seconds before he caught himself, his face settling back into its usual expression.
But Hinata had heard it.
He wanted to hold on to that sound. He wanted to remember that he could still make Kageyama laugh, even after everything.
Instead, he picked up the last ball and put it away.
Kageyama noticed that too.
During lunch, Hinata sat with Atsumu and Bokuto. Kageyama chose a table across the room, where he could hear them if he paid attention but didn't have to join the conversation.
He told himself it was a coincidence.
It wasn't.
He had watched Hinata leave the gym with his teammates and had felt a familiar, unpleasant tug in his chest. The feeling had been worse when Hinata had laughed at something Bokuto said, throwing his head back like the whole world was funny.
Kageyama remembered when he used to be the person who could make Hinata laugh like that.
Then again, maybe he had never been the only person.
That was the problem with memories. They had a way of making the past look simpler than it really was.
"You're staring," Atsumu said from beside him.
Kageyama nearly dropped his fork.
"I'm eating."
"Didn't say you weren't."
"Then shut up."
Atsumu followed his line of sight across the room.
Hinata was trying to steal a piece of Bokuto's food while Bokuto defended his plate with the seriousness of someone protecting a national treasure.
Atsumu hummed.
"Don't."
"I haven't said anything."
"You're about to."
"Was just gonna say he looks happy."
Kageyama looked down at his food. "Good for him."
Atsumu didn't answer immediately.
That was somehow worse than if he had started teasing.
Finally, he said, "You know, it's possible for him to be happy and still care about you."
Kageyama's fingers tightened around his fork.
"I know that."
"Do you?"
Kageyama looked up sharply. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means you've been looking at him like he's about to disappear every time he laughs at something that doesn't involve you."
"I'm not."
"Right. And I'm the most humble man alive."
Kageyama rolled his eyes and returned to his lunch.
Atsumu leaned back in his chair.
"Listen, I'm not telling you to forgive him. That's not my place, and I'm not stupid enough to try. But you can't expect him to prove he's choosing you by refusing to choose anything else in his life."
Kageyama went quiet.
"I don't expect that," he said eventually.
"Then what do you expect?"
The question landed harder than Kageyama wanted it to.
He didn't have a good answer.
He wanted Hinata to stay close, but not because he felt guilty. He wanted Hinata to choose him, but not because he was afraid Kageyama would walk away. He wanted Hinata to want him without being asked.
And he wanted to stop being afraid that the moment he let himself believe it, everything would fall apart again.
"I don't know," Kageyama admitted.
Atsumu's expression softened a little.
"That's fair."
Kageyama glanced at him.
"Don't tell anyone I said that."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Your Majesty."
"You're the worst."
"And yet, you keep eating lunch with me."
"Because Hinata isn't here to tell me where to sit."
Atsumu barked out a laugh.
Kageyama regretted speaking immediately.
Across the room, Hinata looked over at the sound. His eyes found Kageyama's, and he smiled.
It wasn't a huge smile.
It wasn't a question.
It was just Hinata, smiling at him because something had made him happy.
Kageyama looked away first.
But he didn't forget it.
---
That evening, Hinata found himself standing outside the gym long after most of the team had left.
He wasn't waiting for Kageyama.
Technically.
He was tying his shoes again because one of the laces had come loose, and it was perfectly reasonable to tie your shoes outside a gym.
Even if you had already tied them twice.
"Your shoes aren't going to run away."
Hinata looked up.
Kageyama stood a few feet away, gym bag slung over one shoulder.
Hinata straightened. "I know that."
"Then why have you been tying them for five minutes?"
"Maybe I like having well-tied shoes."
"You're weird."
"You've known that for years."
Kageyama looked at him for a moment.
"Are you waiting for me?"
There it was.
Hinata could have joked. He could have pretended he was waiting for Atsumu or that he had forgotten something inside.
But Kageyama had spent too long wondering what Hinata meant whenever he did something kind. Hinata didn't want to give him another reason to doubt his words.
"Yeah," he admitted. "I was hoping we could walk to the station together. But if you don't want to, that's okay."
Kageyama's gaze dropped to the pavement.
"Why?"
"Because I like spending time with you."
"You can spend time with me at practice."
"I can. But I like spending time with you outside practice too."
Kageyama's expression tightened.
Hinata felt the familiar urge to keep talking, to explain himself until Kageyama understood exactly what he meant.
He let the urge pass.
Kageyama shifted his bag higher on his shoulder.
"Fine."
Hinata blinked. "Fine?"
"We can walk to the station."
"Oh. Okay."
"But don't make it a thing."
Hinata smiled. "I won't."
"And stop smiling like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you won something."
"I didn't win anything!"
"You look like you did."
"Maybe I'm just happy."
Kageyama didn't answer.
But he started walking.
Hinata followed beside him, careful not to get too close. They talked about practice, about a ridiculous mistake Atsumu had made during a drill, and about whether Bokuto's latest restaurant recommendation was worth trying.
For ten minutes, they were simply two people walking home.
Then Kageyama asked, "Did you have fun with Ren?"
Hinata glanced at him.
"Yeah. He's cool."
Kageyama's jaw shifted.
"Right."
"Why?"
"No reason."
Hinata considered pressing him.
He wanted to know if Kageyama was jealous. A selfish part of him wanted to hear it, because jealousy would mean Kageyama cared in a way that was difficult to hide.
But that wouldn't be fair.
"You can ask me something if you want to," Hinata said instead.
Kageyama's shoulders stiffened.
"I'm not asking anything."
"Okay."
They continued walking.
A few steps later, Kageyama spoke again.
"Are you going to keep hanging out with him?"
Hinata thought about the question.
"If he invites me, probably. He's nice, and I like being friends with him."
Kageyama nodded once.
"Oh."
Hinata's chest ached a little, but he kept his voice gentle.
"That doesn't change anything about how I feel about you."
Kageyama stopped walking.
Hinata stopped too.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The street was busy around them, people passing with shopping bags and headphones, cars rolling by beneath the evening lights.
Kageyama looked at him.
"You can't say things like that and expect me to know what to do with them."
"I'm not expecting you to do anything."
"Then why say it?"
"Because it's true."
Kageyama looked away, frustrated.
"That's what you keep saying."
"I know."
"You keep telling me what you feel, but you don't understand what it's like to hear it from you."
Hinata's smile disappeared.
Kageyama swallowed.
"You had so many chances to tell me. You had so many chances to choose me, and every time, something happened. You went to Brazil. I stayed here. We kept texting, and I thought..." He stopped, his voice growing quieter. "I thought maybe we were waiting for the right time."
Hinata couldn't move.
Kageyama rarely spoke about those months. When he did, he usually kept it short, like he was afraid that saying too much would make the hurt real again.
"I thought if I waited long enough, you'd come back and we'd figure it out," Kageyama continued. "And then you stopped texting me the way you used to. And I didn't know if I was supposed to keep waiting or if I'd made the whole thing up in my head."
"You didn't make it up," Hinata said softly.
"I know that now."
The words hurt more than Hinata expected.
Kageyama looked at him again.
"But knowing you loved me doesn't change the fact that I spent a long time thinking I wasn't enough for you to choose."
Hinata's eyes burned.
He wanted to tell Kageyama that he had been confused, that he had been scared, that he hadn't known how to deal with his feelings. All of that was true.
None of it changed what Kageyama had experienced.
"I'm sorry," Hinata said.
Kageyama looked exhausted.
"I know you're sorry."
"I don't want you to feel like you weren't enough. You were never not enough."
"But I felt that way."
Hinata's throat tightened.
"Yeah," he whispered. "And I'm sorry I made you feel like that."
Kageyama looked down at his shoes.
For a second, Hinata thought he might say something else. Something that would let them take one more step toward each other.
Instead, Kageyama adjusted his bag.
"I should go."
Hinata's heart sank.
"Okay."
Kageyama looked almost surprised that Hinata hadn't tried to stop him.
Then he turned and started walking.
Hinata let him.
He watched until Kageyama disappeared into the crowd, and then he stood there for another minute, trying to accept that doing the right thing didn't always feel good.
He hadn't fixed anything.
Kageyama was still hurt. He was still afraid. He still didn't trust Hinata's feelings enough to let himself lean into them.
But for the first time, Hinata understood something he hadn't fully understood before.
Kageyama wasn't asking him to explain why he'd made the choices he had.
He was asking him to understand what those choices had cost.
And Hinata couldn't undo that.
He could only decide what to do next.
---
That night, Kageyama lay in bed with his phone resting on his chest.
He had left Hinata at the station because staying any longer would have meant saying more than he was ready to say.
He hated that Hinata had looked so sad.
He hated even more that he had wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder, to tell him he didn't have to look like that, to make things easier for both of them.
He couldn't keep doing that.
Not if he wanted to protect himself.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Hinata.
Kageyama stared at the screen for several seconds before opening it.
**Hinata:** I got home. Thanks for walking with me.
Kageyama read it twice.
There was no apology. No question about whether he was upset. No attempt to continue the conversation they had just had.
Just a simple message.
He typed, deleted it, and typed again.
**Kageyama:** Okay.
He set his phone down.
A minute passed.
Then another.
He picked it back up and stared at his reply.
It looked cold.
He knew it looked cold.
But he wasn't ready to give Hinata more than he could manage tonight, and he didn't want to send a warmer message just because he was afraid of hurting his feelings.
Kageyama put the phone away.
Across the city, Hinata read the reply and felt the small sting of it.
He let himself feel disappointed.
Then he went to bed.
He wouldn't punish Kageyama for being guarded. He wouldn't decide that a short reply meant his efforts weren't working. And he wouldn't turn every interaction into a test he needed to pass.
Tomorrow, he would show up.
He would listen.
He would keep choosing Kageyama, even when Kageyama wasn't ready to choose him back.
Not because he expected a reward.
Because this time, he wanted his feelings to mean something beyond what they could give him.
For now, that had to be enough.
And for Kageyama, for the first time in a long while, Hinata's silence after a difficult conversation didn't feel like abandonment.
It felt like space.
He wasn't ready to trust it yet.
But he was beginning to notice the difference.