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“Left, left!” At the call, Yahaba sets the ball to the Wing Spiker position, Kyoutani lunging to get into position and slam it over the net as hard as possible. On the other side, Kindaichi doesn’t even try to block the first ball Kyoutani’s hit all afternoon, knowing full well that it would most likely tear his arms off. Watari even steps away from it, hands up in surrender.
“This isn’t dodgeball, this is volleyball! Make an effort, you two! And Kyoutani! Stop being so reckless!” Mizoguchi chews them out, Yahaba standing by smugly as he watches those three - and Kunimi - getting absolutely roasted for not putting in the ideal effort.
Things have changed since the third years retired from the club. They’re still around, mostly found watching practice from the balcony area, but they don’t participate anymore. Until the beginning of the new year, there’s no newcomers either, so the main team is just these five.
It’s not the same.
It almost feels like, to Yahaba, he’s the only one working harder, trying to make up for he space their senpai have left behind. Watari isn’t pushing himself as much as he could, Kyoutani is pushing himself too much and acting reckless again, and the first years appear to have lost all motivation.
The lost match hit them hard. Not just to Karasuno, but to Kageyama, who they still hadn’t forgiven. It was bordering on plain stupidity and stubbornness now, but Yahaba was holding off on calling them out on it until he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Let’s try that again. Kyoutani, try aiming this time instead of senselessly smacking it. Kindaichi, actually try to block.”
“What’s the point? He’s just going to get it through.” That was another thing Yahaba was beginning to get annoyed at. The way Kindaichi was beginning to snap back, not necessarily being nasty, but with a self-deprecating tone.
“Just try. You’re better at blocking than you think.” A scoff he wasn’t meant to hear, and an inaudible mumble is all he gets in response, before the first year apologises and shuffles into position, holding his arms up ready.
“I’ll set the same as I just did. Aim for a cross-hit.” Kyoutani nods, but the restless fire in his eyes is the same as before and Yahaba knows his ‘advice’ is going completely unheard. All the Mad Dog cares about is the ball and going full force.
But there’s nothing he can do. He’s not Oikawa. He’s not Iwaizumi. He isn’t used to taming Kyoutani, using him like a tool or treating him like a wild animal.
“Ready?”
“Mhm.” Gruff, Kyoutani nods, throwing the ball in, to feed to the setter. Yahaba sets it up, and Kyoutani races in as he sighs. This is just the same as before, except Kindaichi actually blocks. Or tries to, anyways. As he predicted, the force of the spike sends his arms flying backwards, and the ball drops to the floor next to him. His frown deepens, and then he looks Yahaba dead in the eye, no expression.
It’s chilling.
“See? I told you there wasn’t any point.” Inhaling sharply, Yahaba bites his tongue to stop himself snapping something completely disrespectful. He’s had enough of this attitude. It takes him a second to compose himself, and then he ducks under the net, grabbing Kindaichi’s wrist and dragging him over to where Kunimi idly stands around near the back corner of court, where the ball is least likely to come.
“I am sick of you two slacking off. Kunimi, you aren’t even trying! And Kindaichi… What the fuck happened? You were- You used to be-... You were so good. Now you’re just… It’s almost like you’re injured.” The blocker averts his gaze, and Yahaba blinks, softening his hold around the wrist and leaning in closer.
“Are you?”
“No! No… I just… It’s not fun anymore.”
“... What?”
“It’s not fun anymore.” Yahaba steps back, narrowing his eyes. He can’t help but take offence to that, especially as Kindaichi won’t look him in the eye and Kunimi glances between them both, trying to figure out what’s going on.
“What, so I become Captain and suddenly you don’t want to play anymore? Wow, thanks. That’s encouraging. Thanks a bunch.”
“It’s not that! It’s not- It’s not you that’s the problem!” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Yahaba exhales, stressed to the core. He catches Watari talking to Kyoutani out the corner of his eye, hoping the libero is trying to get through to their new Ace that recklessness won’t be tolerated.
“There is a problem then.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not sure. M’probably just being stupid. Again.”
“Kindaichi…” The soft, sad whisper from Kunimi clues Yahaba in on the fact that this is something not even Kindaichi’s best friend knows. And if Kunimi doesn’t know, what hope does he have of finding out?
But he can try. He’s captain now. He can try.
“You can tell us, you know? If it’s stupid, we’ll tell you. We’re here for you.” He thinks he’s making a breakthrough. Kindaichi shuffles awkwardly, opens his mouth to answer and closes it again, biting into his bottom lip and ‘mhmm’ing awkwardly, before he goes to answer again.
“Hey, how’s practice going!?” It’s exactly the wrong time for anyone to interrupt, and yet, Hanamaki and Matsukawa seems to have made a habit of entering at the worst times. Kindaichi clams up, eyes darkening as he holds his secret, and Kyoutani breaks away from Watari as if being seen socialising with his teammates is a crime.
The five scatter in different directions, and Yahaba realises how fragmented it is, how broken they look. Even Hanamaki and Matsukawa glance at him with sympathy, and he clenches his fists tightly.
“Stop running away, you morons! This isn’t going to solve anything! We’re a team! We’re a family! So start fucking acting like it!” His voice cracks on the last word as he shouts at the top of his lungs, face red and fists clenched tight enough that they shake, so overly frustrated with the fractured team. He breathes heavily, hunched over.
“Yahaba…” Watari is the first to run over, tackling his friend in a hug that almost knocks him off balance. Surprisingly, the next to come over is Kunimi, awkwardly latching himself onto their sides, fingers clinging into their shirt material and head on Yahaba’s shoulder.
It’s down to Kyoutani and Kindaichi, and Hanamaki pointedly stares at the middle blocker whilst Matsukawa gestures for Kyoutani to move closer, directing him towards the little family gathering. With a scowl and general look of displeasure, Kyoutani storms over and makes a show of wrapping his arms around the others with a tight squeeze before he tries to run away.
Watari pulls him back, arm around his neck in a headlock, an absolute death grip on his shoulder.
Watari is to be feared.
“I don’t-... I’m not… I’m sorry.” The doors out of the gymnasium and towards the changing room swing open and shut, no one else joining the cuddle. The team - plus Hanamaki and Matsukawa - stare after the empty spot where Kindaichi was formerly standing. A sinking feeling in his stomach, Hanamaki chases after him.
“Takahiro!”
“I’m gonna talk to him! Just keep things going here!” Matsukawa sighs, shrugging off his uniform blazer.
“Hey, Yahaba, set to Kyoutani for a bit. I’ll block.” Yahaba nods, moving to the setter position at the net. But he can’t help glancing back over to the door, as Irihata pokes his head around to ask out in the corridor if everything is okay.
“Focus. We can trust them to deal with the situation.” Yahaba jolts at the sudden appearance from Mizoguchi right behind him, passing over a volleyball. He gives a rare, encouraging smile.
“Come on. I’ll take turns with Kyoutani.” Kunimi and Watari set themselves up to receive on the other side of the net, Matsukawa right up to it prepared to block. His eyes flicker back to the door at movement, Irihata walks back into the room, pacing back and forth with worry.
“That’s not a good sign…” It’s not a good sign indeed, and that sign is accurate. Things are not going well.
Hanamaki sits in the hallway with his back against the changing room door, leaning back against it to try and keep it open just a crack, because on the other side of the door, Kindaichi is standing against it, trying to close it. Not actively, because he isn’t pushing against it, just passively leaning.
“You gonna tell me why you’re so upset?”
“I’m not.”
“Kindaichi, you literally bolted out the room apologizing, and you’ve been kinda sulky these past few days anyways.”
“I’m not sulking. And I’m not upset!”
“Then what are you?” A beat of silence, shoes shuffling against the floor and the door inching open just a little bit.
“Just a stupid kid.”
“Hey, c’mon. Don’t put yourself down.”
“Just stating the truth.” Hanamaki sighs, burying his face in his hands and rubbing at his eyes as if that’ll get rid of the building concern. It’s like there’s alarms going off in his head, but he doesn’t know what any of them are for, just that something is drastically wrong.
“Okay, who told you that? I’m gonna kick their ass.” He waits for a reply. There’s a sniffle from behind the door and he jumps up to his feet, pushing the door open with force and stepping into the changing room before Kindaichi can close it again.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t react. Volleyball has increased all of their reaction times drastically. The first year spins on his foot and crouches down, facing the corner in a little ball, curled up with his hands over his head almost like he’s shielding himself.
“Who said that? Who hurt you, Kin?! I’ll- I’ll threaten them!” The layered on pressure and gentle reassurance in Hanamaki’s tone, his supportive words, and the hand he rubs against Kindaichi’s back wears him down, and with a sigh, he drops his forehead against the wall, closing his eyes.
“My parents are divorcing. Neither of them want me.”
“Wh- What...? What do you mean neither of them-...”
“I- I hear them arguing at night… All the time, really… Just- Just they leave the stuff about me until night, I know they hit me but I- I love them and I thought they loved me, an-and I think they think I’m asleep but I’m not, and- and-!!” He’s starting to get frantic, speech and breathing speeding up and Hanamaki knows he has to calm Kindaichi down or he’s going to burn himself out.
“Alright, alright, take a nice, sloooow breath, okay? Just in and out, try matching my count, yeah? In, 2, 3, 4… Out, 6, 7, 8…” The breathing is shuddered and uneven, hitching in paces, but it’s an attempt, and Hanamaki eases him through it by rubbing his back. He tries not to think about what he's heard. I know they hit me. No wonder he shielded himself when Hanamaki barged in.
“That’s it, c’mon, turn around.” Kindaichi wipes at his eyes and slowly shuffles round, still looking at his own feet. Hanamaki puts a gentle hand on his shoulder, and a wobbly, uncertain smile is sent his way, as if the first year was trying to reassure him.
“C’mere.” Hanamaki leans in, wrapping his arms around gangly shoulders, and pulling Kindaichi into his lap, squeezing tightly. It takes a split second for the shock of being hugged to wear off, and then Kindaichi melts into it, burying his face in Hanamaki’s shoulder and bringing his shaky arms around to cling to the the back of Hanamaki’s shirt. The first sob is torn out of him almost painfully, jolting his entire body.
“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I- I don’t know what you heard, but it’s not true, okay? It’s not true.”
“Y- You don’t even know…” The warbled cry pierces deep into his heart and Hanamaki exhales slowly, screwing his eyes shut. Just what had this kid, this fifteen year old had to overhear from his own dysfunctional and abusive parents? I know they hit me. There's a lot of damage to be undone, and Hanamaki intends to start the healing process.
“No, no I don’t. But I know it’s not true, okay?”
“Wha-What if it is? What if I really am jus-just a stupid kid, an’- and not even good at volleyba-ball?”
“Woah, no talking like that! It’s not true! You’re in class five, and you’re great at volleyball!”
“But it’s my fault we lost…” A small tap to his shoulder reprimands him for taking the blame entirely onto himself.
“M’sorry…” Hanamaki rubs large circles on his back as he cries into his shoulder. When the choking sobs turn to hiccups and hitching breaths, he pulls away, forcing on a small, comforting smile and using his thumbs to rub away the tear tracks on Kindaichi’s face.
“I can see how we set you off now. Talking about family when- when that’s happening…”
“I don’t have a family anymore.”
“Hey, hey! That’s not true! You got us! You got the whole team! Seriously, Kindaichi, it doesn’t matter if me, Iwaizumi, Oikawa and Issei are off to college. It doesn’t matter if none of us are blood related. We’re the family that’s always going to be here for you.”
It almost sets the waterworks off again, but Kindaichi bites at his bottom lip and sniffs, nodding. There’s a new spark in his eyes, as if Hanamaki’s words have given him light. With a grin, Hanamaki stands up and offers him a hand.
“Let’s go back to the others, yeah?”
“Y- Yeah!” The second that they re-enter the gymnasium, Hanamaki pushing Kindaichi forwards encouragingly, the game stops. Kindaichi sheepishly rubs at the back of his head.
“I’m- I’m sorr-” He doesn’t even finish his sentence before a weight slams into him, Kunimi barreling into his front and hugging on tightly. The rest of them follow, Matsukawa watching from afar with a chuckle, and the addition of Iwaizumi and Oikawa up on the balcony observing with soft smiles.
“Don’t keep these things to yourself, stupid! We’re your friends, aren’t we?!” Kindaichi blinks, shock melting into a warm, heartfelt grin.
“Mhm. I’ll keep that in mind.” Kunimi pinches his arm roughly, sticking a tongue out, and Yahaba even knocks his knuckles against Kindaichi’s forehead.
“I understand that you’re dealing with two things at once, but stop pulling away from us! We’re here to help you! We’re your team!”
“I know, I know! Hanamaki-senpai already chewed me out!”
“Hey! I did not!” Kindaichi laughs, just allowing the second years and Kunimi to cling to him, even roughing him up a little with affection. It feels like they love him. It feels like he belongs.
It feels like a family should.