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Hinata wasn't ready for it all to end. He never thought he'd say it like that, but, well, it was the truth. And Hinata wasn't much of a liar.
First year, second year, third year—it all went by in a blur, tournaments and people and memories passing in a flash. The dawn of a new morning turned into whirling sunsets and the sunsets turned into dark, cool nights in the blink of an eye. One moment, he was picking a fight with Kageyama over meat buns, and the next, he was standing behind his last high school volleyball game.
In Hinata's third year, Karasuno made it to the Spring High tournament finals, against all odds; they had lost an amazing libero and a power ace and a great captain in the past year. Of course, Hinata being Hinata, he didn't settle for just making it there.
He came to win, with Kageyama and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi and the first and second-years who had joined the fray, and somehow, they did.
It was long and suffering and the whole match lasted five sets, with neither side giving in. The score was 20-19, Karasuno pulling in the lead with one point. The very last second of the very last play was the quick attack. Hinata knew it was coming, he knew it in the back of his mind through the entire game—if they were going to win, and they were going to win, it would be like this. The look in Kageyama's eyes said it all: As long as I'm here.
We're invincible, Hinata finished.
That time, the other team was ready. They had three blockers up and their libero positioned right in the back, but Hinata saw past it. The weak spot, the chink in the armor, where the blocker's hand was tilted ever-so-slightly.
His hand made contact with the ball, a solid sting on his palm, and it blasted past the net. Their rivals dived for it, the sound of knees and limbs hitting the gymnasium floor and the squeaks of court shoes filling the air. They went for it, but the ball slammed against the ground with all the force of Hinata's effort and Kageyama's perfection and Karasuno's spirit, spirit that never died.
It was silent, the white noise filled with leftover suspense, until the crowd erupted with cheers. The Karasuno alumni sat in the front row; Suga stood up and was yelling louder than what must have been humanly possible, as Tanaka swung his shirt around him ("Those are my kouhai!" he bellowed proudly).
“And Hinata Shouyou scores the winning point for Karasuno High! They have officially won the Spring High Nationals! The Little Giant is back!” an announcer yelled.
Hinata's mind spun, and his entire body hurt, but none of it mattered. Someone lifted him up in the air—he wasn't sure who, though it smelled vaguely like Kageyama—as the rest of Karasuno crowded around him. There was screaming and crying and sweaty bodies colliding with each other, as tears welled up in Hinata's eyes.
We won. We actually won nationals, we won.
So, yes, after what was possibly the best day in Hinata's life, he wasn't ready for it to end.
The sunset glowed faintly around him as he pulled his bike next to him. There were only a few days left in the school year until the third-years' graduation ceremony, and it was only a matter of time before he would leave the Karasuno volleyball club for good.
"Oi," a voice called out behind him. Hinata turned his head to see a familiar face.
"Hey," he grinned back. "You going to the bus station?"
Kageyama nodded. "Are you biking home?"
"Yeah, but I'll walk you to the station," Hinata smiled softly.
"You don't have to," Kageyama muttered, but it wasn't a no.
They walked in silence for a few steps, before Hinata spoke. "Kageyama, you know when we won our game the other day?"
"Duh," Kageyama said. "What about it?"
"Well, don't think I'm stupid for asking this-"
"-Too late for that."
"-Shut up! Anyway, when we won the last point, it was with our quick attack, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, I was just wondering, like...why did you give the ball to me?" Hinata blurted out.
Kageyama gave him a distinct look: Are you kidding me right now?
"I was just wondering!" Hinata said quickly, before Kageyama could respond. "I mean, you could have done a dump, or did a back attack, or anything else!"
"You don't make any sense," Kageyama shook his head, almost scowling, but not quite. Hinata knew that to be his default expression. "I can't give you, like, a detailed explanation on it. I tossed to you because I thought it was the best way to score a point then."
"Oh. Ok. Wait, no, not ok, can't you be more specific?!"
“What else do you want me to say?” Kageyama snapped, but there wasn’t any bite in his words. His expression softened, just a little bit. “And, you know, it’s obvious.”
“It was our last game...” he paused, before mumbling something afterwards that Hinata couldn’t quite make out.
“Sorry, what?”
He mumbled again. This time, it sounded vaguely like he was saying tug-a-war.
“I can’t hear you, can you-”
“Together!” Kageyama finally yelled, so loudly that a startled crow flew away from its telephone wire perch nearby. “I-It was our last game together, dumbass. I thought—I don’t know, it just made sense for it to be you.”
“It was always you.”
Hinata stared at Kageyama for a few seconds, his mouth wide open.
"What—d-did you really just say that? That's so—nice, and...and sentimental, and totally not you!" Hinata gave him a suspicious look. "Where's the real Kageyama and what have you done with him?"
"You little—" Kageyama reached for Hinata's head, but he dodged swiftly; it came with years of Kageyama-handling experience.
"We're dating now, you could at least go a little easy on me!" Hinata complained, laughing.
"That's stupid," Kageyama scoffed, his cheeks turning pink. "That's the same as going easy on another team just because you're friends with their players."
"Eh, not really," Hinata said. "But whatever floats your boat."
He sighed, edging a little closer to Kageyama. "Still, it's gonna be weird not going to the clubroom everyday next year."
"Yeah," Kageyama nodded. "It'll be different."
"And we don't get to play with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, or Yachi and everyone else," Hinata said pensively. "I guess I just don't want it to end." He glanced at Kageyama, who was silent. His brows were drawn together in contemplation.
"No one does," Kageyama shrugged. His eyes were a little darker than usual. "But at least you're still playing volleyball."
"Of course!" Hinata said immediately. "Like, that's a no-brainer." He hesitated. "Except we don't get to play it with them anymore."
"That's not true," Kageyama frowned. "Both of them are still playing in college. And we're going to make it to the national team, right?" He said it like a statement, not a question.
"Hell yeah," Hinata grinned. "You'll toss to me, and I'll hit all of 'em." The corners of Kageyama's lips turned up slightly.
The two of them walked further before reaching the sign of the bus station. They stood there, waiting, until what looked like bus headlights flashed in the distance. The sky was darker now, the sun slowly fading into the black of the night.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Hinata stood on his tip-toes and gave Kageyama a quick kiss on the lips. It tasted vaguely like the meat buns they had eaten after practice.
"Wait," Kageyama grabbed the end of Hinata's sleeve. "Do you remember what you said in our first year?"
"Um, Kageyama, I said a lot of stuff in our first year."
"Before the first Inter-High," Kageyama elaborated. "You said you were going to play on the same stage as me, even if it was the world?"
"Oh, yeah, that," Hinata tilted his head to the side. "I remember now."
"So...you still promise that? You'll make it to the world?"
A smile slowly spread on Hinata's face, stretching to the corners of his cheeks.
"Yeah, I promise," he finally answered, as Kageyama's bus slowed down in front of them.
"We'll make it. To the world."