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Kageyama Tobio, aged seven, doesn’t like the ocean. He likes things clean. Ordered. And the ocean is inherently unpredictable and messy. He can appreciate its power. But that doesn’t mean he enjoys it. Sand in his shoes, the smell of sea water on his clothes. He doesn’t like the ocean.
He has to come every summer. Has to sit in the too small beachside house his father had impulsively rented after the divorce. Has to try and restrain himself from flinching at every hug, every desperate attempt to get him to talk. Has to talk about school, grandpa, volleyball. The ocean air is tainted with his father’s sadness, the ocean is the space between his mom and dad and the space between them. He hadn’t thought he’d ever like the ocean. It seems too sad.
And then he meets Hinata Shoyou, aged seven, who loves the ocean. Sand in his hair, water drying on his shoulders, seaweed stuck to the curve of his ankle, sunburn over his flushed cheeks. And a gap toothed smile. A smile that Tobio can almost feel, a smile that makes him feel warmer than the sun high in the clear sky.
-
“Play volleyball with me!” Hinata says the second summer Tobio touches down on the beach, barely five feet and eyes shining as they focus on the volleyball in his hands. Tobio’s never played on the beach before but Hinata doesn’t care. Hinata doesn’t ask him why his parents split up, Hinata doesn’t ask him why his grandad dropped him off every day. Hinata doesn’t call him weird, or childish, mean or cold. He smiles. Hinata assures him, grabs his hand - so easy and casual - and drags him to the net.
“Toss for me!” He says and jumps without fear. His form blocks out the sun, the sand he’d kicked up spraying behind him, the waves slam against the shore. And Tobio isn’t even aware he’s committed the image to his memory until it’s too late.
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The feeling of cool sand sifting through his fingers calms him. The sun set a little while ago. He’s red faced from the way he’d insulted Hinata, from the way they’d both fought. Tobio is fourteen and he thinks he might be in pain.
Hinata is sat beside him, hugging his legs to his chest, his eyes tearing up like Tobio had just told him his own grandpa had passed away. It’s unnerving to see. He doesn’t understand how Hinata can feel so much about a friend he only sees for the summer. He doesn’t understand why he can't seem to cry about it as well.
“It’s weird,” Tobio says, blunt.
Hinata reaches out, eyebrows furrowed and face set. And he slides his fingers through cold sand to grasp at his hand and hold on tightly. It’s a slow enough gesture that Tobio can move his hand back if he wants, it’s slow enough to be considerate of what he needs. He doesn’t flinch for once.
“You’ll be okay,” Hinata says, like he knows it for fact. Tobio looks at him.
He’s a mess. He’s still crying over Tobio’s grandad. He’s still here, even though Tobio screamed at him. Lashed out.
There isn’t a word he’s come across to describe what Hinata means to him. He’s- not just a friend. It hurts his head if he thinks about it too much. So he doesn’t. He lets himself feel grateful, lets himself look forward to seeing Hinata, falls into the best routine of his life.
The breeze is cold enough now it’s night time but that’s not the reason why Tobio shivers as he turns his hand over and entwines their fingers.
-
“I’m moving,” Hinata says. He’s just turned fifteen. Tobio’s gifted him a copy of his favourite match to watch and followed him home to eat watermelon with Natsu.
They stand in Hinata’s backyard. It faces the ocean without a barrier and the waves almost drown out Hinata’s words. But he hears them as though they were screamed in his ear.
Tobio feels shaken.
Every summer. Every summer he comes here. He learns to navigate his father, learns social cues he’d never cared about before, suffers through it. And he plays volleyball with Hinata. Goes for runs with Hinata. Tosses to Hinata. Eats ice-cream with Hinata, swims, jokes and laughs and talks and talks and talks-
It’s a routine he loves. It’s a routine he looks forward to. It’s a routine that makes him feel human for those few summer weeks. It’s another routine that he doesn’t think he can live without.
Hinata looks like he understands. But there’s no way he can, Tobio knows how good he is at keeping his face unaffected. He holds people at arms length, he doesn’t let them see him vulnerable and Hinata- Hinata is the exception to that rule and he hates it.
He looks away, his heart thudding and thudding. His mind tells him he’s stupid, childish, weird-
“I’m going to miss you,” Hinata tells him instead, snuffing that angry little voice inside him.
Tobio crouches, stares at the pitch black of the ocean beyond the yard, and wonders why it feels like he’s losing himself.
“You have my number and my email and I’m going to write you letters and send in columns to that magazine you like and-!” His vision blurs and suddenly Hinata is in front of him, crouching. Eyes shining.
“I’ll see you on the court, Kageyama, one day, whenever it comes. I’ll play volleyball with you.” It’s a promise. It’s intense. Tobio can’t look away from Hinata’s eyes, can’t stop the swell of emotion. It sounds like forever.
Tobio doesn’t really understand too much of what happens around him. He engages with things that happen in his life almost passively, his parents got divorced, his mother worked in another city, his granddad died. Everything happened around him, flowing around a Tobio shaped hole in the world without stopping to glance over it.
And yet Hinata is here, earnest in front of him. Hinata grabs his attention, gives him his everything without a care. He grounds Tobio, forces him to stand there and consider. Tobio thinks, for a fleeting, terrifying moment, he might lean in and kiss Hinata.
“See you later,” he says instead, swallowing the lump in his throat as he gets up to walk back to his father's rented accomodation.
-
He fails Shiratorizawa entrance exams. He spends half an hour on their campus before his chest feels tight and he walks home with his head down.
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From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: DUDE HEY
Hinata,
Remember the school I told you I wanted to go to? I didn’t do so great in the entrance exams. I didn’t get in.
I know you said it didn’t matter what school I went to, that he’d be proud regardless. But I feel like I messed up. Idk.
Did you manage to figure out how to ride a bike? How’s your new place?
Best,
Kageyama.
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From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: DUDE HEY
KAGEYAMA!
So great to hear from you! Hey, listen, listen,
that school is lame. Its lame. And they don’t understand you like I do, kageyama, you’re awesome and you’re gonna be great and some other team is going to notice that. so don’t give up!!! You haven’t messed up, you haven’t even started yet, so keep on trying and keep on going. The world deserves to see you toss.
I fELL OVER TWICE but I managed to cycle to my new school and back in less than half an hour so success? I think so!
Its nice, its okay, I miss the ocean, I miss playing volleyball with you- mom says when we’re older she can drive us down for a holiday :) I like having my own room AND I like the fields nd stuff but the country is boring. Aren’t u from the countryside, Kageyama-kun?
Ps. im joining my new schools volleyball club
Hinata :P
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From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: DUDE HEY
Hey, you know you’re gonna be okay tomorrow, right? Anyone would be lucky to be ur friend. Ok back to sleep GN!
-
Tobio has to resist the urge to bring out his phone the first day of school. He’s reread Hinata’s email twice already. Once before his morning run, heart thudding in his chest, and once again over his oatmeal, swallowing each mouthful laboriously.
Karasuno High School.
He’d already memorised the walk, so he won’t be too nervous in that regard. But- The lingering loneliness of middle-school keeps creeping back on him, assuring him that no matter what Hinata says, no matter how much he tries, at the end of the day people will misunderstand him. And Tobio will be left alone all over again, on an empty court, will the ball hitting the floor.
He tries. He tries to remember what he did the first time he spoke to Hinata, what it was that made Hinata smile at him like the sun. But he can’t get it right. And then he’s so nervous about getting it right that Tobio- Gets quiet.
Reserved.
He finds the gym, phone still turned off, and muscle memory has him dumping his bag and picking up a volleyball long before his mind registers that he’s still in uniform, that it’s the end of the day, that the actual volleyball club, with their official could walk in at anytime. He feels numb again.
He feels like he did years ago. With his father slamming doors. His mother crying half way through dinner. His grandfather crouching and telling him softly that he’ll be taking care of Tobio and Miwa from now on.
It’s not a nice feeling. And Tobio can’t help but feel like it’s unfair.
He doesn’t want to push people away. He doesn’t want to stay quiet and cold. He doesn’t want to be lonely anymore.
The ball in his hands in rough and firm, but it doesn’t ground him, no matter how many times he tosses it up in the air.
It’s happening again. The reputation that he can’t seem to shake. He had nothing in common with his classmates, didn’t smile quick enough, didn’t nod along enough times. They don’t like him and Tobio knows it’s happening again.
He’s scared of ruining this. The ball hits the far wall and Tobio swears under his breath. If he doesn’t have volleyball what is he? He doesn’t work at volleyball everyday, what else can he do?
He thinks about his grandpa. Remembers the sight of him smiling on the sidelines and thanks the universe that he didn’t have to witness Tobio’s middle-school tournament performance.
“God dammit,” he whispers, staring at the door, at the sun spilling through, for just a moment before he gathers himself, pushes the sadness from his brain. And picks up another volleyball.
As he goes to serve again, he registers the stomping of footsteps. Someone is sprinting, someone is about to jump into the gym and see him here. Someone is about to tell him first years aren’t allowed here, or ask him if he went to Kitagawa First, or if he’s slow, or troubled or-
Someone jumps, higher than he’s ever seen before. And lands with a beam he’d remember in his dreams.
Someone blocks out the sun.
Tobio stares at Hinata.
Hinata stares back at him.
He’s wearing Karasuno gym gear. He’s still tanned. There are freckles across his cheekbones. He shines.
“Shoyou?” He breathes, his heart picking up its pace. The ball dropping from his hand. It doesn’t matter, none of it matters. The coldness is seeping from his body, the numbness is tingling. And Hinata is smiling at him.
“Surprise, Tobio!” Hinata laughs. Pleasant and bright and so familiar that Tobio almost falls, almost trembles. He’s stuck staring so long that Hinata tilts his head, raises his brows. “Kageyama?” He prompts.
He jerks, moves forward in long steps and stops just before Hinata to look down into his eyes and try to articulate how- how much Hinata makes him feel.
Words. They don’t come to him. But Hinata is still smiling. Laughing now, as Tobio wraps his arms around his best friend and hugs him as tightly as he dares.
Hinata squeezes him back around his waist and somehow his hair still smells like the ocean.
“I told you, I promised,” he whispers, muffled against Tobio’s chest.
And Kageyama Tobio, aged sixteen, feels the world slot into place around them.
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