Chapter Text
Kei woke up that day with his head pounding. He rolled on his bed, burying his face on the pillows and lightly kicking the blankets that were tangled up with his feet. He wasn’t being able to get a good night of sleep, these past few weeks.
When he opened his eyes, Kei was facing the empty side of his bed, sheets just as messy as the rest of the bed, even if he didn’t sleep on that side. The spare pillow on the other side was lying on the middle of the bed, its sides wrinkled. Kei had probably hugged it in his sleep. He groaned when another sharp pain ran through his skull, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead and hissing uncomfortably. The bed was cold but, for a few minutes, Kei refused to get up, holding the blankets on a tight fist and bunching the fabrics closer to him.
When looking at the empty spot beside him became too much, Kei adverted his eyes, finally getting rid of the blankets and sitting on the edge of his bed, broad back facing the messy bed. He raked a hand through his face and sighed, looking at his window, at his poorly closed blinds. He must have forgotten to close them properly the night before. The light that streamed through it, though, was greyish at best, the cloudy sky and the harsh winds outside hinting on an approaching storm.
He reached for his glasses on the nightstand, putting them on and clearing the blurred edges of his vision. Beside the ordinary nightstand, Hinata’s cellphone charger was still hanging from the wall. Kei still hasn’t chucked it out, as one would think, and Hinata hasn’t came back for it.
–
“Why are you climbing over me?” Kei huffed when Shouyou threw his small body over his.
Yes, Shouyou had gained some inches in height and packed a lot of muscle over the course of all the years they knew each other, but on Kei’s eyes, he was still a midget, always so short. And yet, he still drew so much attention, boundless energy and beauty condensed in one small body.
“I’m trying to get my phone.” He answered, wiggling his body further until he could plug his phone out of its charger, unlocking the screen. “There’s no socket on my side of the bed.”
“Can’t you just get up from the bed and get it like a normal person?” He complained half-heartedly, letting one small smile make its way on his lips. Although the protests, Kei loved to have Shouyou’s body pressed against his, and when Shouyou started to pull away to lay once again by his side, Kei circled his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, tugging him close and keeping him over his own body.
“This is better, don’t you think?” Shouyou replied smugly, turning his bright eyes to him and smiling largely, sunshine filtering through the open window, casting uneven shadows on his tanned skin.
Shouyou kissed him then, all enthusiasm on a lazy morning, phone laying forgotten by their side as lips moved and hands caressed skin.
–
Kei shook his head as stupid memories took his brain space, finally pushing his body up and moving towards his bathroom. He ignored the charger. He didn’t dare look back at his bed.
Kei looked at the reflected image of his own face on his mirror, purposely adverting his eyes from the dark circles beneath his tired eyes, ugly results of poor sleeping habits. He proceeded to wash his face and, when he was done, he searched inside the bathroom cabinets for some medication. He dryly swallowed an aspirin for his headache and reached for his toothbrush, fingers softly hitting the other toothbrush kept there. Hinata’s toothbrush still was at his bathroom sink and the obnoxious orange of it irked Kei beyond measure.
He clicked his tongue as he spread toothpaste on the brush, looking away.
After finishing his morning routine, Kei wandered to his small kitchen, intent on starting breakfast and getting some food on him. Some fresh coffee would do him some good, as well. He calmly started reaching for what he needed, silently, lonely preparing his food.
Routine was something that grounded him and made him calmer. To follow the steps and to do the same thing he did every day were, in a way, comforting. Moreover, it prevented Kei from thinking about ginger hair and too large smiles, wandering hands and bending down, and the warmth that he didn’t have anymore.
“Tch.” Kei clicked his tongue, refusing to acknowledge his inconvenient and bothersome thoughts, still slicing a couple of strawberries with practiced moves of his wrist.
He added the sliced strawberry to a bowl of yogurt, opening a cabinet to search for his jar of honey only to find it empty. He sighed and threw the jar away. He was about to close the cabinet when he saw another jar there, shoved to the side. Kei took it and analyzed the label, realizing it was Hinata’s.
It seemed that all of Hinata’s stuff wanted to stick around; saturating his house with stupid shit he didn’t want. It was worsened everyday, Kei found more things by the minute. By then, almost a month after they broke up, three weeks and two days of radio silence, Kei would have chucked it all out. But it seemed to want to stick around.
He figured he could eat his yogurt and strawberry with Hinata’s honey, as to not waste it. When he led the spoon to his mouth, it was freaking trash, all that organic, good-for-athletes shit from one of Hinata’s health food stores. It stuck on his tongue and made his simple bowl taste overly sweet, taste like homesickness and longing and everything that was good and had gone to waste.
His cup of coffee didn’t disappoint him, though. His coffee tasted like it always did and Kei nursed it gladly. His coffee wasn’t accompanied by unwanted memories, Hinata hadn’t claimed that, like he claimed everything else in Kei’s life.
–
“Here, I made you coffee.” Shouyou said, handing him a mug of steaming dark liquid. He settled on the couch together with Kei, adapting their contradicting bodies until he was sitting between Kei’s long legs, back resting against his boyfriend’s chest.
Kei took a sip from the coffee and spluttered. “It tastes like shit.”
Shouyou only laughed, bright and loud and completely unbothered, and rested his head on the broad chest behind him, closing his eyes. “Don’t drink it, then. Put it there.” He motioned to the coffee table beside the couch, grasping Kei’s free hand and playing with his long, skinny fingers, tracing his bony hand and his protruding knuckles.
“I’m not moving.” He finally announced.
And he didn’t. Shouyou kept on warming his cold fingertips with his heated ones, setting them on fire, eyes closed, relishing on that moment.
And Kei let him, drinking the rest of his coffee.
–
Kei sighed, getting up from his couch and entering the kitchen once again, this time to wash his dishes and organize the space. He focused his eyes on the sink, on his hands dealing with dirty dishes and water running through his fingers, not daring to look anywhere else.
His flat was like that. Full of corners even fuller with memories he didn’t want to look at, didn’t want to dig into those small, cramped spaces and clean them up. Hinata was so far away now, but for some reason, he still felt as present as ever, hidden in the walls and in every stupid object he left behind in his wake. It was hard to pretend he wasn’t there, because he was, enveloped in the air around Kei like an invisible reminder of everything he lost.
So Kei refused to look at those painful edges – where one wall met the other and reminded him of the way Hinata had jumped on his arms and locked his legs around his waist and snaked his arms around his neck –, at his uncomfortable, cheap furniture – where Hinata had kissed him like he was something special, like Kei meant the world to him. But as much as Kei sensed Hinata in his space, he wasn’t there anymore, not physically. Not in any way. Except for the way he haunted Kei day and night with no break whatsoever. It was his own fault, after all, and Kei was doomed to sit alone with only Hinata’s stuff to keep him company.
That was why Kei kept his head down. He kept his head down and washed his dishes.
When he was done with cleaning, his apartment still felt as oppressive and stifling as it did since sunshine no longer shone over it. He quickly went to his bedroom and got dressed in jeans and in a large cream-colored sweatshirt, breathing deeply through his nose and forcing everything to remain bottled up. In a couple of minutes, he was at his front door, lacing his sneakers with nimble fingers and grabbing his phone, headphones and a couple of canvas bags, figuring he needed to go grocery shopping.
Stepping onto the street, Kei felt like he could breathe properly. The air around him was cold, the bleak wind messing his hair and slowly numbing his fingertips. Kei hated it and it seemed that winter that year was going to be a harsh one. Looking up at the sky as some random playlist blasted through his headphones, Kei noted that it was probably going to rain that day. He just hoped he would be back home when it started, refusing to go back to his flat to catch an umbrella.
Being out on the street was both refreshing and afflicting. Refreshing in the sense that he didn’t have to deal with finding more of Hinata’s stuff mingled with his own, but afflicting since he didn’t felt like seeing people, all Kei felt like doing was crawling beneath covers and chasing warmth that he couldn’t have anymore.
Entering the market he usually frequented, Kei set his mind to what he needed to buy, grabbing a basket and moving further into the store. He was in and out of the aisles with a trained pragmatism, adding what he needed to his basket and letting himself indulge in a few unhealthy cravings. He was unmindful of his surroundings, everybody else neglected by his muffled ears. Isolated between his headphones and with his eyes focused on the shelves in front of him, Kei kept on shopping, choosing fresh vegetables and checking if there wasn’t any broken eggs on the carton he picked.
He finished his trip after getting some milk and a couple of chocolate bars, heading to the checkout and paying for his groceries. When he was done, putting everything inside his cotton bags, Kei smiled briefly, forcibly at the cashier and left the store.
As he started walking back, Kei stopped by a bakery located one block away from his flat. It sold countless flavors of cakes and pies and, Kei would be able to advocate, their strawberry shortcake was one of the best he had tried, each bite a piece of heavenly sweetness. Feeling like he deserved to spoil himself a bit, as to compensate for all the instants of painful reminders and uncalled reminiscences, Kei decided to buy himself some sweets.
He entered the bakery and asked for a few slices of his favorite sweet to takeaway with him, ignoring the amount of fat that each slice contained and how many he was buying. Kei didn’t care about anything at that point. He proceeded to pay for his purchase, finally taking the paper bag one of the bakery workers handed him and leaving the shop.
As he crossed the street, Kei’s eyes fell on the red Corolla making a turn on his street and driving away. It was an old model, from the nineties or early two-thousands – it wasn’t like Kei was well-versed on cars –, a lot similar to the one he and Hinata had rented once for a road trip towards the south. At that time, even if the car wasn’t theirs, Hinata had decorated the rear-view mirror with some hippie bullshit of his, some sort of keychain that combined a volleyball, a dream filter and a tiny souvenir from his years in Brazil. Kei had asked what the hell was he doing and, in response, Hinata had only turned those bright eyes and unfazed smile to him and shrugged, not having an answer himself. And Kei had went with it, just like he always did.
The memory of that particular trip hurt more deeply than the usual everyday reminders that plagued him. It hurt a lot to think about the way they saved money together, about the way Kei had meticulously planned a simple extended weekend while Hinata believed they had to adventurously go with the flow. Kei didn’t want to think about their shared meals and how they went to bed together and woke up together, on the same bed, for a handful of wonderful days. It specially hurt to remember the feel of Hinata’s palm constantly pressed against his own, hands swinging back and forth while they walked. It hurt to recall and long for the feeling of Hinata’s heated skin under his starved fingers. Most of all, it hurt so fucking bad to miss the way Hinata kissed him, passionate, unrushed, languid, like they had all the time in the world in their hands, theirs to control.
And then, there was no together, no them, no touch or time left.
Kei ran the rest of the way home, groceries jumping inside the bags and hitting each other in his hastiness. Kei told himself he was only rushing to avoid and escape the upcoming rain when he felt wetness on his cheeks.
–
“You are so pretty.”
Fingers being buried on blond hair, tugging softly, honeyed eyes focused only on him, intimate warmth held close, lips kissing and whispering pretty, addicting promises.
“I want forever with you. I love you so much.”
–
Closing the front door behind himself, Kei looked down as he discarded his shoes on the genkan. His glasses’ lenses were moist and Kei clicked his tongue, taking them off. He stowed his groceries inside the fridge and cabinets, deciding to take a bath for lack of better things to do. His weekends – since he didn’t have to go to the museum to work – were by far the worse, when each free time was a pass to the reminiscence to occupy his head once again.
Overall, that was the way Kei dealt with it, searching for useless activities to keep his mind off things, overeating sweets, sleeping in the afternoon and being unable during the night. Furthermore, Kei avoided his phone as much as he could, only answering his brother’s and Yamaguchi’s unnecessary and overly worried texts and the occasional ones from Yachi. It wasn’t like Kei missed Hinata, he didn’t and he wasn’t tempted at all to text or call him, but looking at his current lock screen reminded him way too much of the one he had before.
Discarding his clothes, Kei filled his bathtub with hot water and got inside, sighing in satisfaction at the warm water against his cold skin. His legs were too long, though, and he had to keep his knees bent to be able to fit inside the tub. He slid down until his nape was resting over the edge of the bathtub, eyes slipping closed. While he relished the hot water, Kei heard the rain begin to pour outside, the white noise of drops of water hitting the pavement filling the silent space. He squeezed his eyes shut when he also felt drops of salted water escaping through his already closed eyelids.
Everything felt extremely peaceful in comparison with the mess going on inside Kei’s head, with the way his chest tightened with regret and the anguish of a lost love. The way the rain was calm and soothing, the way warm water caressed his numb skin gently, the way his tears fell silently, everything felt wrong.
He felt like screaming at himself, scratching at his own skin with hate, but he pushed the ugly desires down, for they were useless, they wouldn’t bring Hinata back to him. He blinked his eyes open, looking up at the white ceiling and wishing he could become like that, bare, devoid of anything, good or bad.
Just exist in this world and not be a disappointment every damn time.
Hinata’s shampoo bottles were left over in one corner, sitting empty on the bathtub rail. By their side, there was a crumb of fancy soap, the one Hinata liked to rub on his shoulders and neck. Somehow, they were all citric scented and Kei hated how he – just looking at the greenish bottle – was able to remind him of the way Hinata’s tangerine curls smelled like, fresh and barely sweet.
Kei took the small piece of used soap and placed it in his large open palm, letting the scent of it occupy his nostrils deftly. As he started rubbing his skin with Hinata’s abandoned soap, Kei remembered how the neon cream of the shampoo always sat on Hinata’s palm before he spread it on his unkempt hair, proudly stating that he could keep his eyes open, since that was a children’s shampoo, designed to not hurt one’s eyes. Hinata was a child through and through and Kei could only pretend – vainly, most of the time – to be exasperated by that fact.
Even before, during high school years, Hinata’s hair already smelled like citrus fruits, tropical and refreshing like a summer day.
–
Kei was in his third year when he couldn’t deny it anymore.
On top of that, Yamaguchi seemed to be well aware of it. Every time he deemed it necessary, he would direct a look and a knowing smirk at his best friend with his newly acquainted captain skills. It was unnerving to be on the receiving end on that stare but, most of the time, Kei pretended it wasn’t directed at him.
However, as much as he wanted to, Kei couldn’t deny how his eyes were drawn to the glowing light that Hinata Shouyou was, eyes constantly shifting behind corrective lenses to catch glimpses of his beauty. The way he moved on the court, the way he gesticulated too much when he spoke, the way he was able to crawl under Kei’s skin like no one else could, the way he jumped so high he might as well call it flying, the way he smiled; everything about him was beautifully enrapturing, blinding Kei on a daily basis. Furthermore, he definitely couldn’t pretend that he was watching Hinata just as a teammate, analyzing his progress on court as someone that shared the same position, when his eyes wandered through his body without his permission, lingering on defined thighs and pretty ankles.
Nevertheless, the fact that Kei realized and accepted his feelings for Hinata, it did not mean that he was going to do something about it. Hinata was so far ahead of him, now with plans to even go train beach volleyball in Brazil, far away from everyone and everything he knew. Additionally, Hinata was always attached to the hip with the king and it wasn’t like Kei stood a chance anyway.
Therefore, he stayed silent about it, turning up his snarky comments towards the freak duo, all the while ignoring Yamaguchi.
It all came to an end, though, during the golden week training camp in Tokyo.
All teams were hanging out outside on the grass, eating onigiris and slices of watermelon while laying down, battling against the burning heat of the hot summer days. Even the wind was hot against their already heated skin, thus the refreshing pieces of fruit and cold water bottles were essential.
Kei sat alone while Yamaguchi gave instructions to the first years, arms resting over his bent knees. Sweat rolled down his neck and under his shirt and everything Kei wanted in that moment was a refreshing shower.
“Here, eat this.” Kei lifted his head when he realized he was being addressed, meeting Hinata with his arm thrusted in front of him, a piece of watermelon in his hand.
“I already ate.”
“Captain sent me, so I’m following his orders.” Hinata shrugged, taking a seat by his side. “Come on, Skinnyshima, one piece of watermelon won’t kill you.”
“Tch.” But Kei took the fruit, biting it and refusing to admit that the sweetness and watery qualities of it were indeed pleasant on his tongue.
After Hinata had finished his own piece of watermelon, he laid down on the grass, hands pillowing his head as he looked up at the sky. The sunset was quickly approaching, so it didn’t hurt one’s eyes to look at the bright, clean sky.
Kei sneaked a peak at him from the corner of his eyes, observing how the amber, golden light illuminated Hinata in such a way that he seemed ethereal, untouchable. It was rare that Hinata remained silent for too long and, when he did, it was either mesmerizing or terrifying. Just like his own, Hinata’s hair was longer, his bangs falling over his eyes and spreading freely over the grass, the majestic orange of his hair coloring the dull ground, a few tufts of grass peeking out between the vibrant locks. He was so gorgeous, he sometimes looked like a deity, too pretty to be from the same world as Kei’s. He was so beautiful.
Hinata huffed a small laugh then, shifting his eyes to the side to meet Kei’s, flushed cheeks and a spreading smile. Then, he whispered, “you are beautiful too”, words carried by the warm wind, making flowers bloom between Kei’s fingers just like they did at that time of the year, teenage hope latching inside his chest.
Shit, had he said any of that aloud?
Kei was nothing but a scared boy, though, so he only clicked his tongue and got up, refusing to look back at Hinata’s eager expression and walking away. “What are you talking about?”
Later, after they had done extra practice with Yamaguchi and Kageyama, playing two-on-two matches while Yachi observed and took notes on the sides, the feeling of a future nostalgia was too present to be ignored. Soon, they would all follow different paths and the three high school years would become sweet memories to look back on. As they modified the pairs so that everyone got to be on the same team with everybody, Kei allowed himself the knowledge that he would miss those moments and all of his friends.
It was bittersweet to think about that but, at that time, with the night approaching and stars flickering in the dark sky, Kei could only feel the sweet side on his tongue.
When they finished practicing for the day, Kei and Hinata were forced to stay back and clean the gym, for they lost on jokenpo to the other two. After everything was put away and the balls stored, they made their way back to the dorms, in order to shower and sleep, another day of practicing ahead of them.
“Tsukishima.” Hinata called halfway. “Can we talk?”
“I want to go shower, Hinata.” Kei replied nonchalantly, even when he was freaking out inside.
“It will be quick.”
With a huff, Kei consented. They sat on the grass once again, now cold, the night breeze gently cooling their bodies, the moon glowing proudly and beautifully in the sky.
“I’ll be direct.” He started. “I never learned how to be subtle about things, so you probably already realized how I feel. I want to say it, though.”
How Hinata felt? Wait, what?
“I held back those feelings for so long… it’s been so long since… I don’t even know for how long, they kinda became part of me.” He continued. “But I’m going away soon and- and before I leave, I wanted to know what answer I would get.”
“So yeah, this is what it looks like.” Hinata chuckled, Kei stunned into silence. “I’m confessing to you. I like you. I like you a lot. And, if… if you want me, I would like to be your boyfriend.”
Kei was never good with kind words; he only knew how to deal with them if they were bathed in sarcasm, so he only nodded dumbly, head spinning and guts somersaulting. “Yes, yes.” He whispered breathlessly, fingers itching to reach and touch.
And when Hinata turned to him, smile as stunning as ever, joyful, relived, infatuated of all things, that was exactly what Kei did. He held Hinata’s face with his too large palms and placed his lips over Hinata’s, gently, shyly kissing the boy that was always unconsciously radiating warmth. Hinata smelled like exertion, sweat blended with tangerines, and Kei was addicted to the contradicting sweetness already.
–
Thinking about the day they started dating would do him no good, so Kei forcedly cleared his mind and got out of the tub, reaching for his towel. Those days, which Kei’s only concern was how they were going to manage a long distance relationship for so long, were long gone, and Kei missed his naivety.
After Kei left his bathtub, unclogging the drain to let his tears go down the drain with the rest of the water, he went back to his room in order to get dressed. There, in between his clothes, the hideous shirt Hinata had bought him as a souvenir from Rio was hanged. Kei looked at it, fingers tracing over its ugly sparkles and brushing the cheap fabric, feeling it in his hands. He contemplated wearing it, probably in one ridiculous attempt to feel somehow closer to Hinata, but decided not to, choosing a simple tee and old sweatpants instead.
By then, it was almost lunchtime and Kei decided to prepare instant noodles for himself, the best option for lazy, heartbroken people, be damned all the excess of sodium they contained. He went to his kitchen and started by boiling the water and taking the too colorful package he had bought that same day, separating its contents until he could put the noodles on the boiling water and, later, add the condiments.
Kei ate his lunch on his couch, legs tucked under a soft blanket while he stared at the pouring rain outside, fat droplets of water hitting his closed window and sliding down until they disappeared, the grey weather almost cinematically synced with his mood. He sighed and placed his bowl on the coffee table, having eaten only half of it.
Kei laid down on his couch and covered himself better with the blanket, looking up. His flat was too silent, too peaceful and Kei hated the sense of normalcy of everything. That, though, was probably his fault as well. How he faked everything was alright.
Yamaguchi had said to him that Kei shouldn’t feel the need to pretend to be fine, to be over it. He said that it was okay to feel sad over the break up and cry because of it and that nobody was expecting him to get rid of those affections in such a short period. Finally, Yamaguchi said that he was allowed to feel each feeling that came with losing someone, that he should witness the painful emotion and then, release it. If he only pushed it away from him, he wouldn’t be able to move on.
The thing was, Kei wasn’t sure if he wanted to move on.
Either way, that was why Kei hated reasonable people. People like Yamaguchi analyzed each situation with a clear head and felt the need to shove that fact in other people’s faces. The worst thing was that Kei knew his best friend was right, but he was too afraid to lose and let go of what he felt for Hinata. He wanted those feelings forever latched onto his lungs; he didn’t want them to become memories of one lover that got away in between other lovers.
He wanted Hinata to be his only lover.
But that wasn’t an option anymore, was it?
“Shit.” Kei cursed softly to himself, feeling another headache approaching. He squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, willing the pain to go away. He needed to get over this, get himself together, compose himself, whatever; he had a life to live and he couldn’t go on like this. He had work and his own season of games and, with Hinata constantly occupying his thoughts, he couldn’t possibly keep a cool head.
The most ironic thing of it all, the downright funny side of their relationship, was that they managed a long distance relationship during the two years that Hinata was in Brazil, only to proximity to ruin them. Back then, before moving to the other country, Hinata had claimed with certainty that they could handle it and that he wasn’t about to let Kei go after just getting him. “I pinned for so long, I think I can deal with a long distance relationship” he had said once, curled around Kei on his bed while they relished their last moments alone before Hinata left, hugging each other. And, in the end, he was right. They did managed it. Hinata was always so simple minded and Kei was too young and too in love to question him about anything.
It was a shame, really, that they couldn’t make it work when there wasn’t oceans and continents between them. Maybe distance, the ache of longing, was what worked for them. But that thought hurt, Kei wanted him close, it was just his luck that when he got Hinata back, he was the one to drive him away.
–
“Can you hear me?” Shouyou’s voice rang against his ears, his image a bit blurred as Kei searched for a spot on the university with good wi-fi.
“Yeah, just a second.”
Kei left the building he was in and sat on the grass outside, resting his back against the wall as he looked at the image of Hinata on his phone. He was tanner than the last time they talked, hair trimmed and vibrant as ever, a fond smile spreading on his lips. He wore a tank top, his peeking collarbones and naked shoulders only teasing Kei in a barely appearance. Kei missed him like he never missed anything else in his life, he longed for the feeling of Shouyou’s small body pressed against his own, for his arms to wrap around his boy.
“How are things over there?” Kei asked when he realized that his thoughts were getting overly sappy and that he and Shouyou were just looking at each other with equally stupid smiles.
“You know, just like always.” He shrugged. “It’s very hot and pretty like it usually is. I’m going to send you some pictures later. Pedro took me to a museum the other day. Are you proud of me?”
“Ha.” Kei chuckled, surprised. “Yes, I’m very proud.”
And then Shouyou went on tangents about what he was doing, how he was playing beach volleyball and all the new things he was learning, which places he was visiting and all the new people he got to meet. He was there, alone, on the other side of the earth, twelve time zones separating them and limiting the time they had to talk. He was there, alone, and the world belonged in his hands, grasped tightly in the small realm of his palms.
Realizing he was drifting again, Kei focused his eyes back on his boyfriend, only to find Shouyou already looking at him, a bittersweet smile on his lips then.
“I learned this word in Portuguese the other day…” He started. “Supposedly, it’s a word that only exists in Portuguese? And like, you can’t really translate it? Saudade.” He finally said, his accent coating the syllables.
“Oh, cool. What does it mean?”
“It’s the feeling of missing someone… or something. I guess.” He said. “Like, the word in itself sums up the desire to be somewhere or the melancholy of longing and… and also one’s attachment to someone. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.”
“I think I get it.” Kei said, words pushing against his tightening throat.
They gazed at each other in silence then, memorizing each feature they couldn’t touch, for they were so far away. Saudade.
“Eu estou com saudade de você.” Shouyou said then, the foreign sounds distorted by his accent, by the technology that brought them closer, even if it felt like it wasn’t enough at all. Kei didn’t understand it, but he thought he could grasp what he meant.
“I miss you too, Shouyou.”
“I'll be home soon. I'll be back to you.”
–
Kei was pulled out of his reverie when he heard a door banging, somewhere along his building. That sound reminded him way too much of Hinata leaving, closing the door softly – which was worse, somehow – behind himself, a sense of finality to his actions. However, that was a day that Kei did not let himself think about too often, not while sober, at least, so he erased the troublesome images from his mind.
Kei missed Hinata so bad and, sometimes, the Portuguese word still rang inside his head in all its foreignness from time to time – reminding him that there was a word, in another language, that summed up what he felt all the time.
When he heard another door banging, Kei sprung up from his place on the couch. “Fuck it”, he murmured, walking towards his kitchen. It was too early to start drinking alcohol, but Kei didn’t care about that. In that moment, all Kei cared about was drowning his sorrows in intoxicating liquid, aiming to forget it all, but knowing it would only make him remember everything in great detail and badly miss it. He grabbed an unopened bottle of kahlúa – the only kind of alcoholic beverage he bothered to buy and have it at home – and set himself to prepare a simple drink with it. He decided to make a kahlúa iced coffee, mixing the liquor with a cold brewed coffee and milk, finally adding ice cubes to his glass.
The first sip of the beverage was comforting and refreshing, the familiar tones of it pleasantly filling his taste buds. Kei finished that first glass while still on his kitchen, hips pressed against the cold counter as his throat welcomed the indulgent drink.
He prepared another serving of it, then, and brought the bottle and everything else to sit with him on the couch again. This one, he nursed it gently, slower and languid, relishing each sip of it. Halfway through his third cup, Kei got up again and took one of the strawberry shortcakes he had bought. It was nice to be able to drink his favorite beverage and eat his favorite dessert, at least. If only that.
As Kei continued drinking more and more glasses of his drink, the inebriated state of mind slowly took over his body, limbs gradually becoming heavier at the same time that Kei felt lighter. In between mouthfuls of his strawberry shortcake, Kei emptied cup after cup, disregarding his rising intoxicated condition.
Without his reasoning to block each Hinata related thought, they popped up with no particular order inside his brain, flashes of bright memories and genuine smiles. Of warm touches and amber eyes. Of soft hair between his fingers and the sweet words of adoration. Hinata flashed before his eyes with his sunny smile, with his tanned, taunt skin. Kei could hear his loud laughter in his ears, hear it ringing in its edges. But he couldn’t touch him. Kei couldn’t grasp Hinata in his fingers, for he wasn’t there.
He existed only in Kei’s longing for him, in the memories that he could only replay and replay inside his mind. Like an awful mantra.
Sometime along the afternoon, Kei plugged his phone into his speaker system, playing some playlist for him to listen. It was amazing how miserable people felt the need to listen to sad songs, in an eccentric attempt to prolong one’s despairing grief.
As the music played, one song after the other, Kei kept on drinking and eating his sweets, unsure if he ignored the songs’ lyrics or his thoughts. Both of those were somehow irritating. When Shrike by Hozier started playing, though, Kei knew that was a song he couldn’t listen to, not when he knew the verses and well-written words by heart. He couldn’t. Not when the song started with a sharp slap to Kei’s cheek, the words “I couldn’t utter my love when it counted, ah but I’m singing like a bird ‘bout it now, I couldn’t whisper when you needed it shouted” hitting too close to his own reality and issues. As the song progressed, though, its soft guitar both soothing and agonizing, Kei let his thoughts wander as well. In some sort of self-inflicted agony, Kei let his martyrdom wash over his body and fill every hollow corner of it.
When Kei thought about how he lost Hinata, he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Hinata himself was the last person he could blame.
Hinata always fought for them, he always aimed for their relationship to last. It was too bad that Kei got in the way, blocking his, their path. While Hinata wanted to move, reach for something ahead of them, Kei planted himself like a tree and refused to do it. Hinata was a call to motion, constantly chasing after something he wanted, unstoppable, but, before, Kei was a scared boy and he grew to be a scared man. Hinata always got what he wanted but, with Kei, he couldn’t achieve that, for he needed Kei to be by his side to reach for it. And he wasn’t.
And now, Kei had to deal with the aftermath of his former absence.
Even before, during high school, Hinata was always there, like a constant reminder in the back of his mind. An explosive presence on court. He pushed Kei forward to work harder, to become a better version of himself, fight for the things he wanted as well. Kei was forever grateful for that.
Maybe that was all left for him, silent gratefulness and constant longing and regret for what he didn't say. He wasn’t able to hold Hinata when he finally decided to leave, but Kei knew that he was going to hold onto those remaining feelings for as long as he could, maybe in a fruitless attempt at having Hinata for longer.
At that point, Kei had ceased to prepare his drinks. Instead, he was drinking shots of his kahlúa, swinging the cups back and letting the liquor leave a burning trail on his throat. As the invisible sun in the cloudy sky started to make its way down, slowly welcoming the moon and the night, Kei was completely drunk already, head spinning with each remembrance, the flashes lapsing quickly through his mind like comets running through dark skies.
Half aware of what he was doing, Kei reached for his phone laying on the coffee table in front of him, its screen pitch black. He placed his thumb over it, instantly unlocking it with his digital. Kei starred at his background, a doodled dinosaur Yachi had drew for him years back, until the screen darkened and, eventually, locked again. He proceeded to unlock it once more, tapping against the screen to press pause on the playlist and fiddling aimlessly with it until he opened his message app. On his most recent contacts stood Akiteru – with his overly and unnecessary worried texts –, Yamaguchi spamming him with stupidly wise advice, Yachi – with her badly concealed attempts at checking on him – and Koganegawa, bothering him with trivialities.
Kei passed his eyes quickly through all of those until he found the icon with a Hinata picture attached to it. He clicked on the tiny circle to expand it, being displayed with the sunny, gorgeous smile Hinata was always sporting. In the picture, he was wearing his Black Jackals jersey and Kei missed the feeling of being able to be proud of him, pleased at the heights he had reached.
He took a look at their previous conversations, scrolling up before they stopped talking. Hinata didn’t send him ‘good mornings’ that Kei secretly loved anymore, he didn’t send selfies of him practicing and fooling around with Bokuto-san and he didn’t send dumb bird videos either.
He missed him so badly.
After weeks of radio silence, of denial and petulance and stubbornness, Kei could admit that he missed Hinata Shouyou. And he wanted him back. Without thinking about what he was doing, with alcohol coating his actions and sleep slowly advancing on his tired body, Kei pressed his thumb over the audio feature, starting to record a message.
“You know,” Kei started, settling himself against the couch cushions, “every time I think about you, it’s with a sense of lateness. Of stuff I couldn’t understand back then or was… or I was too late to reach for it – when I did understand it – and too late to say the things that I needed to. The things that I wanted you to hear.”
“But I guess it does make some sort of sense.” Kei shrugged, even though he was alone and no one could see him. “Looking back at it, you were always miles ahead of myself, looking up and forward. Even back in high school.”
He sighed as more memories filled his mind, of how Hinata moved on court and was greedy and hungry for everything he wanted. A beautiful beast was what he was. After moments of silence, Kei resumed his monologue. “You were always like that, always running forward and chasing after what you wanted… I wasn’t- I just never was able to catch up. And you left me behind.”
Kei released a choked up laugh as the words fell from his lips without much filter, spilling his thoughts with no particular logic. He felt tears pooling on his eyes. “Who am I trying to fool saying that bullshit? You and I both know that the problem wasn’t that you didn’t wait for me, but that I was too scared to hold your hand when you reached for mine and chase for that middle ground together with you.”
“Anyway, I guess that was a lesson I needed to learn… sooner or later.” One lone tear slid down his cheek, the salted drop clinging to his skin until it fell down onto his shirt. “I’m just glad you endured me for so long, I’m glad for the time I had with you and… and I’m never letting go of it.”
‘I’m just- I’m just extremely mad at myself, y’know?” He sniffed, more tears trailing down his pale skin. “I’m so frustrated that I am this… this difficult person, so hard to deal with. And I know that you had to deal with my bullshit until you couldn’t anymore. Until it became too much. And I hate myself for putting you through that.”
Kei roughly wiped his face with the back of his hand, angry tears falling from his eyes, a sob breaking free from his chest. “And you know what, Hinata? I want to get to a point in my life where I can just love myself. Appreciate the things about me. Not because I like the way I look in someone else’s eyes but because I like the way I look in the mirror. Because, and I guess you know that as well, people are not guaranteed. You left me. You fucking got away from me and left a bunch of your stuff around my house. And every day I have to deal with finding some new shit of yours.”
Kei breathed harshly in order to ground himself, unbothered to wipe the tears that fell freely then. “I’m the only guarantee in my life, you know? So I want me to be in love with me. That’s what I’m going to aim for right now. So that I don’t need someone else to do it.”
“Maybe… by doing that, I can be a better lover for someone in the future. As to not put that burden on innocent shoulders.” He said, more calmly, tired of being sad and miserable all the time, sleepy from his intoxicated veins. Then, Kei chuckled, laughing at himself. “I don’t think I can ever be with someone else, though, so I guess it won’t be of any use. I don’t think you want me back either so I’ll have to deal with loneliness.”
“Ha! A taste of my own medicine, am I right?”
“Anyway, I don’t know why I’m sending you this.” He sighed, eyelids dropping. “After you didn’t reach out and I didn’t reach out either. I guess it’s really over then. I just didn’t want this to end with you leaving and closing the door behind you while I couldn’t utter a word. You never deserved someone like me; you deserved someone who could treat you right. I never knew how to do that when we were together.”
“Because of that, I- I just wanted to say that… I am sorry. I’m sorry for what I put you through.”