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When he wakes up, you’re there. You stroke the hair out of his face, but he doesn’t notice, as usual. His eyes flutter open; seem to meet yours for a split second.
Kageyama Tobio, your first love.
Kageyama Tobio, the man who would not love you until you loved yourself.
Kageyama Tobio, your murderer.
Well, not exactly.
And anyways, if you were sent back, back to middle school, back to when you first met him you’d do it all over again. Every single bit of it.
Even if it caused you this pain.
Kageyama sits up, puts his head in his hands and breathes deeply, something he does every morning. After observing him for such a long time, (its been around 5 months) you’ve thoroughly learned his everyday routine, every bit of it.
You knew what he was doing; the pieces of his mask clicking together like a complex puzzle, emotions repressing with a loud snap.
Ah, maybe if things had been different.
Just maybe.
And then you’re being transported back, exactly 5 months and 13 days ago, at 6:15 AM. You were late to practice, an abnormal occurrence.
While you were running towards the school, a good ten minutes away, your phone startles you, ringing loudly. You stop to fish it out of your pocket, but keep walking while answering.
Ugh. Why did your bikes tire have to pop today of all days?! Interhigh was so near and your team needed you, dammit.
Your boyfriend’s grouchy voice flows out of the cellular device, and you smile, of course.
“Oi, where are you-“
“Sorry!” You interrupt, before he can go on a long rant about you constantly being late and start jogging again. “My front tire was flat, so I’m walking over there!!”
You hear him release a long breath. Was he perhaps worried about you? Aww, how cute. You voice your thoughts and Kageyama hisses at you through the line.
“You’re such an idiot! Stupid, dumb, idiot!”
“Embarrassed?” You laugh, giggling as you picture his red face, probably looking around so none of the others can hear him.
“Of course not!” He snaps at you, but as usual, you take that as a resounding yes.
You had to smile, your boyfriend was adorable.
Oh, if only you’d have turned back, or maybe walked a little quicker or a little slower, you wouldn’t have been in this predicament.
But, you didn’t, and five minutes later you watch as the car comes straight towards you, desperately saying “I love you, Kageyama, I love you so much.” You don’t quite remember how you knew that you were going to die, but you seemed to be frozen in the headlights of the white car that slams into you a split second later.
Somehow, you were glad that you had managed to say that. At least you got to die with Kageyama’s words flowing through your muddled head.
“Hinata?! Shouyou, what happened?! Oh my god, Shouyou please be okay, are you okay please answer me I love you too, please tell me that you just dropped your phone or something, did you fall I love you so much please be safe please please plea-“
And then your hearing shuts off, replaced by a high pitched tone, vison blurring quickly. The last active thought you have is whether this is what the world looks to Kageyama when he doesn’t have his contacts in.
After that, there’s nothing.
For a while too, it was so boring. You felt like you were floating in a sea of black, except black wasn’t the color, and this color had no color, and no sound, yet it was simultaneously all colors and all sounds.
You don’t remember exactly what happened, but the next thing you know the world turns to light again and you’re sitting on your bed at home, and no one acknowledges you, no one notices that you’re there. Not even Natsu, who comes into your room to cry, and when you try to comfort her and tell her “I’m right here!” she completely ignores you.
That’s when you head over to Kageyama’s and accompany him; being around family was too saddening.
At least you could be near the person you loved the most, hear his voice and feel his warm skin, along with his cold feet and hands, which he would entwine with yours when you cuddled under the covers, carefully hidden away from the rest of the world.
And yet, the Kageyama that you observe is not the same that you left.
He doesn’t attend your funeral, and you don’t either.
When your teammates knock on his door, he doesn’t answer at first. But then he lets them in, but he doesn’t look at any of them, doesn’t cry.
Kageyama doesn’t cry, except when it’s 3:00 AM and he wakes up with a cry of “Hinata” and you’re there, gentle fingers on his back, reassuring him, you are there. But of course, he ignores you, and shakes violently.
He never attends school the next day, completely broken until he can reassemble his mask again; hide his fear and feelings from the world.
No, Kageyama doesn’t cry, except when he stares at the picture of you two on his nightstand, hating himself bitterly.
He doesn’t cry, except when its 5:00PM and he comes home from volleyball practice and smashes the first thing he sees against the floor. Only once has it been the picture frame of you both, and that’s been the only time that you swear that he could feel you as well, face against his back, invisible tears not staining his shirt, invisible touches not felt.
You’ve had to watch as he comes home and reaches for the biggest knife in the kitchen, raising it over his arm in fury.
You’ve had to watch him breathe like a bull, watching the knife shake in his hands as he throws it away, and you breathe a sigh of relief because no, you didn’t want to see him bleeding out on his own kitchen tiles, his beautiful warm blood staining the cold white tiles in splatters.
Instead, he scratches, and burns. He puts the water when he washes his hands on excruciatingly hot or arctic cold, and stares at then as they turn red, to purple, to normal again as he decides that that’s enough.
You watch, as he scratches his thighs a little too deep, a little too strong, watches as he picks at his scabs, refuses to let them heal.
You watch patiently, as he slowly but surely kills himself.
You’ve had to watch, and it’s fucked you up so badly.
You’re brought back into the present as Kageyama stands, avoids looking at himself in the mirror, avoids all reflective surfaces. He doesn’t want to see the hollow cheeks and dark circles that ring under his eyes.
The bath starts to run, and you’re not surprised when you see his head go under the hot, steaming water, burning his skin viciously.
A small smile comes to your face when he doesn’t come up for a while. Maybe now you could finally be free, maybe you could move on from this accursed universe, this doomed timeline.
But then he’s sputtering, coming back up, spitting out the steaming water with disdain.
He hated himself, and you can feel yourself start to hate him too.
Maybe, maybe if this was a different time, maybe it would go better, you think, but until that timeline comes, theres nothing else to do except die.
After all, no one fit better to Kageyama Tobio than Hinata Shouyou.
And if you’ve survived 10,000 other timelines just to reach this one, you would wait for the next one as well.
And then maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.
Maybe, just maybe, Kageyama Tobio could finally, finally be happy.