Work Text:
Out of reach, out of reach.
He reaches his hands out towards the sky, where the satellites sleep and lie.
Closes his hands around the moon, thinks about how he’d like to go home soon.
Into the night, out of sight.
Out of reach, out of sight.
—
Hinata used to stare up at the moon as a child. He’d sit in his mom’s dark, cool car with Natsu sleeping on his shoulder, and face the sky with his head resting on the glass window. He’d see faces and rabbits and goals and ambitions peeking out between the clouds, behind miles and miles of murky black, and wonder what it would take to jump over the moon. If cows could do it, he’d think, the little giant could too, right?
Now he thinks of the moon peeking out between golden curly strands, and thinks of how endlessly more beautiful the sight once was.
It’s a dark cloudy night in Brazil. The stars are hidden behind a shrouded curtain of clouds, yet still the moon peaks out between them; out of reach, out of sight. Hinata checks the time on his phone. It’s a ruse to see the person he misses most, just a face amongst five in the memories of a time worth more than pure gold. He checks his emails, and once he sees that his package is still on route from Japan, gets up from his desk.
“Hey Pedro, wanna play a video game or something?”
—
It started with a keychain, as some things do.
Not just any keychain of course, it was a limited edition dragon-something or another featuring Goku, or Goten, or one of the numerous ‘go’s everyone under 15 goes crazy for. Tsukishima was sure that Hinata would’ve known exactly who it was; and that even if he didn’t he’d make it up. Nevertheless, it started with a keychain.
“Hey shrimp, take this” Tsukishima said, throwing the keychain towards Hinata, who caught it with expert timing.
“Whuh, huh?? What’s this?”
Tsukishima rolled his eyes, “a keychain, stupid.”
Hinata scrunched up his face in mild annoyance, his cheeks growing redder. Cute.
“I got that, Stingyshima,” he said, his voice coming out garbled and smooshed like it was coming from underneath a pile of pillows, “I meant why are you giving this to me? Is it poisoned or something? A listening device?”
Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, “how do you even poison a keychain?”
“I dunno!” Hinata threw his hands in the air. The keychain only barely left his hand, flying off in the trajectory he was flailing in.
Tsukishima watched him scramble to get it back, and once Hinata was on the floor, Tsukishima spoke up again.
“It’s for you. I got it from a gatcha machine my brother made me do a few weeks ago. I was decluttering my desk this morning and found it; thought I’d get rid of it by giving it to someone.”
When Hinata finished grabbing the keychain he stood up to his full height, expression unreadable.
(Was he getting even shorter?)
“So it’s a gift?” He’d said.
Tsukishima flushed at the question. Of course not! He was just using Hinata as a trash can. He was only making his own life easier. He actually did poison the stupid keychain. Any number of excuses flitted across his mind, all of them unable to reach his tongue for reasons beyond his own recognition. He must’ve taken too long to answer, because Hinata smiled a smile that, as cheesy as it sounds, felt like the sun. It was then that Tsukishima, for the first time in his life, realized how much he’d like to feel that smile against his lips.
“Thank you, Tsukki!” Hinata said, voice brighter than the rays against Tsukishima’s skin, “I’ll get you something too! I can’t let you win this one!!” He then began screaming about something or another, running away in a direction Tsukishima didn’t know well.
He was going to get lost.
He was going to keep his promise.
He was going further and further away.
Out of reach, out of sight.
-
“Dear Tsukki’, no that doesn’t sound right… ‘Hey, Stingyshima! It’s me’... UGH that just sounds stupid!”
“Um? Are you alright, Shouyou?” Pedro stands at the entrance to Hinata’s room, he’s got a bag of chips and a look that practically drips with worry, “you’ve been shouting a lot, are you practicing your kanji again?”
“Ah no, I’m just writing a letter to send back home, but this is way harder than I thought it would be,” Hinata scrunches up his face, seemingly deep in thought.
Pedro waits for him to gather his thoughts, opening his bag of chips, and stuffing his face with a handful.
“Hey, are those sour cream?” Hinata asks, hands outstretched.
The chips are placed in his hands with a roll of Pedro’s eyes, “why are you even writing a letter? Can’t you just send a text or an email or something?”
“Mmnghh but then that’s like, ugh y’know?? It’s not really byaam or buoooh and I can't really give him something that doesn’t make him go WAHHH cause then I’ll be losing so- urghh, this is hard.”
Pedro laughs, he sits on Hinata’s bed and just lets himself laugh. It’s amazing, Hinata thinks, how much he laughs these days. When they first met Pedro refused to talk to him, and now he smiles like it’s second nature. It was the same with Kageyama, and Heitor, and even…
“Hey Pedro, if you wanted to give someone something especially special what would it be?”
“Huh? Umm,” Pedro puts his hand on his chin, and Hinata can’t help but smile at how much he reminds him of Kenma sometimes, “I guess it’d have to be something personal. Something that we both know that person wants but wouldn’t buy or make or get for themselves. Oh, or maybe something I wouldn’t usually make, so I guess a letter in your case makes sense since you suck at japanese-“
“Hey!”
Hinata ambushes Pedro, and the two laugh until lights out; no one but the two of them, and the moon above; as witness to Hinata’s struggle.
Further and further every day.
-
Tsukishima only realized he’d fallen into a habit once he fell out of it.
“Hey Tsukishima-kun, is everything alright?” Yachi asked him one day, it was nearing the end of their second year and their senpais were finally beginning to quit the club. Maybe she thought that was affecting him?
“Well the idiot third year duo have been at my neck lately, but they’ve been doing that to everyone,” Tsukishima places his court shoes in his locker, “and I’ve been a bit busy scouting the middleschool scene with Yamaguchi and Kageyama too. Other than that it’s just the usual for me. Why do you ask?”
Yachi bites her lower lip, giving him an uncertain look, “you’ve just been weirdly distant towards Shou-chan lately, did something happen between you two?”
Huh? Hinata??
Tsukishima closes his locker, his eyebrows furrow imperceptibly, but his hands clench around the locker’s key.
“What gave you that impression?”
“Um, well you haven’t really been giving him food during lunch anymore, and he hasn’t been telling me about any new gifts from you lately,” Yachi looks up at him, compassion in her eyes, “he’s just been a little down lately, so I was wondering if you knew or did anything. Ah! Um!! That’s not to say you did do anything I mean I’m sure you’re super trustworthy Tsukishima-kun, ACK- that is to say I know you are since we’ve been together for so long but, I was just worried and--”
“It’s fine, Yachi.”
The words shut Yachi up instantly. Whether it’s the curt way Tsukishima said them or the look on his face that does it is not for him to know.
“O-okay. Um, well just so you know Hinata’s still in the gym practicing his new jump serve, so… if you had the time you could, y’know,” Yachi fiddles with her fingers, lip caught between her teeth as she looks to the ground. She’s gotten braver. Tsukishima knows this, and suddenly he’s thankful for the amount of work she’s put into bettering herself, and her team.
“I get the message,” Tsukishima tells her. He puts a hand on her shoulder and gives her what he hopes is an appreciative look, “thanks.”
Yachi smiles at him. It’s a gentle, honest smile, and while it doesn’t warm Tsukishima like sunlight, it does bring his morale up. It’s strange, how people’s smiles feel so much heavier these days, how easily they cause his own lips to curve upwards just the slightest bit.
The two of them walk to the nearest vending machine then part ways, and Tsukishima makes his way to the gym with a snack and a drink in hand. He closes his hands around the food, and thinks about how he’ll be able to make up his sudden apathy soon.
-
The days grow shorter, and Hinata grows taller.
His steps grow stronger.
His eyes more focused.
He makes more friends; from Oikawa to Heitor to Nice and all his new rivals, not to mention Pedro. He learns new things; languages and techniques and recipes and new ways to smile, new ways to jump, new ways to reach for the stars.
And he does. Every night.
He’ll look up into the sky and search for the moon. Sometimes he has to arc his neck to see past the buildings, others he only needs to look with the receptionist for his mail. Every night he wonders if the wolves are staring at the same moon he is, if there’s cows making their endless ascent at the very moment, if the rabbits and spacemen have fallen asleep; or if they need sleep at all.
He wraps and unwraps the package in his hands for the fiftieth time, eventually giving up. He knows there’s no way he’d be able to hand it over himself anyway, so why bother? Instead he lays on his bed, thinking of how close he is to realizing his dreams. He reaches to the sky, where he will be in just a few short hours.
Hinata dreams of days long gone, and ones so close he could touch them.
-
They were difficult, those last few days before Hinata had to leave for Brazil.
All the words that Tsukishima had been hiding crashed down in one fell swoop, every single one of them trying to fall out of his lips at once, as though they’d be lost to time if he didn’t say them right that moment. Instead all that came out was a sound that felt dangerously close to a sob, and a feeling that felt fatally close to tears.
“Don’t cry, Kei-kun,” whispered Hinata, close to Tsukishima’s cheek.
“I’m not crying,” Tsukishima said, voice weak between inhales.
Hinata pulled Tsukishima closer to his chest, kissed his temple, then his nose, his cheeks and his lips, “With how you look you’d think I died or something! Don’t cry, Kei, I’ll be home again y’know, I’ll come back.”
Tsukishima just shook his head, hands reaching for Hinata’s, and sighs shakily when he holds them in his own. They’re so close, so warm. Tsukishima is holding onto Hinata’s hands like they’ll disappear if he doesn’t, and it burns him to his core to know that Hinata is doing the same, that Hinata’s tears are falling onto his own cheeks too. They knew of course, they understood the weight of what was going to happen.
“We could always still talk too,” Hinata said, his voice is so quiet and soft against Tsukishima’s shoulder, “it doesn’t have to be forever, I don’t want it to be forever unless you do.”
“Fuck you, fuck off,” Tsukishima dug his hands into the back of Hinata’s shirt. He was going to be so far away, so far away, and that thought hurt him to his core, “god I fucking hate you.”
Hinata laughed, he laughed, and laughed; each one sounding like every tear he’d ever shed in a competition. It rung in Tsukishima’s chest like Seijoh, like Kamomedai, like Dateko, it filled him like he’s hollow; echoing through every inch of him with emotion. Tsukishima knew the kind of person Hinata was, that this was a challenge like any other, but unlike volleyball Tsukishima knew that there was more than just Hinata’s pride at stake.
This time it was Tsukishima’s heart on the line too, and though neither of them wanted to, they eventually had to let go.
“If it doesn’t work out,” Hinata joked bitterly between inhales, his face blotchy and red but smiling that sunny smile Tsukishima was slowly learning to despise, “you could always date Kuroo-san or Lev or something. Maybe I’ll even get Kenma to have a one night stand with me or something!”
Tsukishima grunted and it made Hinata laugh again.
It sucked, the situation they’d found themselves in. It was Hinata’s fault, yet here he was acting like he had all the time in the world to make it up to Tsukishima.
And maybe he did, maybe he really did.
There wasn’t any proof of the fact yet, but maybe there would be one of these days. That fact too came on Tsukishima’s nerves.
Yet of all the things that pissed him off, none did more than how easy it was to joke about it all; how easy it was to just talk to Hinata. Here was the same guy who’d promised he’d never be friends with Tsukishima holding him like there was nothing more precious in the world, or maybe even the universe. The same guy Tsukishima had just broken up with, smiling like they were old childhood friends and not two exes with an unresolved mountain of tension between them.
It was so easy for them to talk. They didn’t even have to ignore the fact that it had all happened. The elephant was in the room and they were sitting on its back like it was an amusement park ride.
Tsukishima had nothing to give this time but a promise, and a shitty one at that. It sucked, but Tsukishima was patient, and Hinata was stubborn. So they laughed and laughed, deep into the night.
Tsukishima silently wished that Hinata would be home again soon.
-
Hinata used to stare at the moon as a child, fairytales and nursery rhymes flying through his head as he reached towards the sky.
Hinata used to stare at the moon as a teenager, spikes and blocks and a horribly tall mean boy taking up too much space on his mind.
Hinata used to stare at the moon as a young adult, memories and sensations from years ago still coming back to him after all that time, a life he appreciated even when he’d managed to end it.
Now Hinata is staring at a pillow hurtling towards his face at record speeds.
“GYUHK-!”
Tsukishima laughs, “serves you right for leaving for so long you dick.”
“Is this how you welcome home your highschool sweetheart shittyshima?!”
Tsukishima hits him in the face with his pillow again, “yes, and that one was for your gift.”
“Why you-“
The two wrestle on Tsukishima’s modest double bed, laughing like they didn’t ever have a reason not to; like the world never stopped turning for a second while they were apart. Maybe that’s because it really didn’t. They lived their best lives, shared it when they could; both good and bad times, cried and shouted and cheered alongside each other and their other friends.
Hinata manages to pin Tsukishima down and giggles. He looks down at the moon, peeking out between golden strands; still beautiful, breathtaking, annoying and smug as all hell. Hinata leans down, reaching closer, closing his hands around his moon; his stars and his sun and his whole wide universe.
“I win, Kei-kun,” he mumbles into a kiss, “now you have to date me.”
“Again,” Tsukishima adds. His voice is deadpan and his smile is so sappy it gives Hinata cavities. Sweet like strawberry shortcake and waffles with syrup.
“Again,” Hinata repeats, and he kisses him once more to make up for lost time.
When he pulls away he sees that Tsukishima is smiling.
He’s smiling and it’s so full of life that Hinata can practically feel it, and it feels good. It feels like it was worth it, it feels like coming home, it feels like an answer to every question and uncertainty he’s ever had in his life and it feels so damn good.
Then Hinata realizes something Earth shattering, so silly and real that it makes him giggle from where he’s sitting straddling Tsukishima’s waist. Then Hinata laughs, arms outstretched, basking in the joy of the world itself. He laughs and colors spill out of his soul, painting the room in bright blues, warm yellows, and neon oranges. He laughs, and the sound rings in every corner of the universe, through every artery and capillary in Tsukishima’s veins.
Hinata laughs, because he’s finally done it. He’s finally got everything he could’ve ever dreamed of within his grasp. He’s finally given Tsukishima the perfect gift, wrapped in the taste of citrus and sweat and summer, dancing with the beat of the blood pumping through it. He’s finally won the bet they’d placed years and years ago. But more so than any of those, he’s finally proved a hypothesis years in the making.
Just like the bunnies and the wolves and the cows and the men on tv-
Hinata Shouyou is over the moon.