Archive of Our Own

The hospital walls are cold, white, and gray when Hinata first enters the hospital, and after three weeks, they still do not become any warmer.

This is a fact he learns right away. Hospitals, no matter how long you stay in them, do not become more welcoming. Even when he is finally able to leave, go home, and grab some possessions to place around a hospital room dimly lit with fluorescent lights, it doesn't make it feel anymore like home. If anything, it makes it feel even less like home, because every photograph of him holding a volleyball and every golden trophy is a reminder that this room is not actually home, and maybe it never will be.

A week after arriving to the hospital, on the day he actually wakes up from his coma, he's assigned a therapist. Not a physical therapist- well, not yet, anyway- but one to help with his mental health. And at first he laughs at the idea of talking to someone, saying he'll be fine without a shrink, but after four nights straight of nothing but melatonin and nightmares, he takes up the doctors offer to go see one they have in the hospital.

She's a straight-forward and quiet woman with sleek, black, hair and a no-nonsense demeanor, but more importantly, she listens. Sometimes she listens so well Hinata rambles on and on for minutes while she silently jots things down, lost in his own stories and saying things he doesn't mean to share. And she gives him a smile and says she's happy to hear about whatever he spoke about. Sometimes it's actually funny, how quickly he goes from talking about some of the video games he's been playing in his hospital room to how fucked up he thinks life is.

And so, three weeks and four days after he's admitted to the hospital, at 12:00 on the dot, he gets into his wheelchair and heads down the hallway to Kiyoko's office. She moved it to be closer to him, because maneuvering a wheelchair when one of your arms is broken is hard enough without having to go halfway across the hospital. Just like every other day, he knocks once on the door with an arm that hurts to hold up and it's pulled open by the woman.

"Come on in, Shoyo," she says politely, holding it open and stepping to the side while he wheels in. There's a new plant in the corner, right next to a wooden bookshelf with a couple of games and books on it. One of them which he recommended, which he sees a bookmark sticking out of. He smiles, the window in front of him wide open and sunlight shining in until Kiyoko sits in front of him and blocks some of it out. He rests his hand in his lap, the broken one on the arm rest, and gives her a small smile. Even after weeks of doing this, she's still slightly intimidating. "Alright," she says through a sigh, picking up a pen and clicking it open. "How did you sleep last night?"

One thing he had grown to like about Kiyoko is that she wasn't one for small talk; her questions were always straight to the point and allowed Hinata more time to talk about more important things he was actually interested in, such as the latest video game he had been playing (he always got through them in less than a day, which shocked most of his doctors, but gave him an endless supply of games). So they got through the required questions right away, and then Hinata had half an hour to conversate, and Kiyoko would listen happily, smiling, nodding, beaming in interest even though deep down he knew she probably couldn't care less about the latest boss he'd defeated in Minecraft.

"I slept okay. I had another nightmare," he says, feeling distracted as he studies the walls. Kiyoko has hung up some minimalistic paintings and gotten some darker curtains after Hinata had complained about headaches from the bright colors in her office. Little things like that were what made her so likeable, and he smiled despite his last statement. Kiyoko leans a bit closer, showing she's listening, and Hinata realizes she wants him to talk about it. He clears his throat awkwardly. "Oh, it was just about the whole incident again."

She jots something down, brow furrowed. "Interesting. But that's completely normal, Shoyo. You might have nightmares for the rest of your life about it." He definitely doesn't find that very comforting, but he supposes he prefers it over being lied to. She looks back up at him. "However, I can find you something that might help."

Hinata groans. "More medicine? Listen, I appreciate it, but having to take all the medication I already do is so tiring. I feel like I'm melting constantly. It's awful." Kiyoko quirks a brow, then nods slowly, writing down another thing.

"Well, I wasn't actually going to suggest medication, but thank you for telling me about that. I can talk to your doctors if you'd like, we just don't want you to be in pain, Shoyo. The medicine is helping with that," she explains, somehow stern and gentle at the same time. "Do you want to tell me a bit more about it?"

"No," he says, chewing on his lip. "Hey, if you weren't gonna recommend medication, what did you have in mind?" He asks.

"Oh! Yes," she says, then opens her desk drawer. She pulls out a folder and drops it on the desk, flipping through various papers for a minute before settling on one with a bunch of information written on it. She slides it in front of Hinata. "I was thinking maybe it'd be nice for you to have someone to talk to in the hospital. Kind of like a pen-pal, except they won't be from another state or country. Not only will it help you learn to write again, it'll be nice for you to talk to someone your age."

Hinata considers it for a moment. "I don't know, I mean..." He reads over the paper. It's filled with various facts about a person, showing everything except his name, photo, and the reason he's in the hospital. It confuses Hinata. "Wait, so... I'm not gonna know this person? We'll just be talking back and forth?"

Kiyoko nods. "I noticed you two are like polar opposites, except for one shared thing," she says, then gives him a small smile. "You both had a big passion for something before what you went through. For you, it was volleyball. For him- Well, you'll just have to find out." She pauses, leaning back in her chair, satisfied. "So, what do you say, Shoyo? Do you want a pen-pal?"

He closes his eyes for a moment, staring at the blur of colors behind his eyelids and thinking hard while he leans back carefully in the wheelchair. Kiyoko waits patiently, silently, save for the sound of a pen against paper, most likely her just jotting down some thoughts that might have nothing to do with Hinata. A pen-pal, he thinks, chewing the inside of his cheek. Maybe that could be fun. I'd have someone to talk to... Something to look forward to.

Opening his eyes, he gives Kiyoko a small smile. "Alright," he says, not missing the way her eyes light up in excitement for her patient. "You've convinced me. I'm in." So Kiyoko claps excitedly and pulls the paper back, placing it back into the folder, and Hinata can't help but laugh lightly at her happiness.

Hinata taps a pen lazily against a blank sheet of loose-leaf notebook paper, mind spinning. He chews on his lip- a habit that Kiyoko told him he's really got to break, and he quite honestly agrees, yet still does it anyway- and blinks hard and long. His mind feels hazy, unable to focus, and it's especially hard to figure out what to write when he's left-handed and his right hand is the only uninjured part of his body. Even then, the sprain only healed about a week ago, and writing for too long makes it scream in pain.

But Kiyoko looked so excited for him, and he's in desperate need of someone to talk to, so he takes in a deep breath and tries to find out what exactly he can say. Then he thinks, yet again, about the person he's writing to. He only knows he's quiet, shy, reserved. All things Hinata is the opposite of. Though, that was one of the reasons Kiyoko put them together, and he has faith in her that this is a good idea. So he picks up the pen, scratches it onto the paper a few times to get the ink running, and starts writing.

Dear Strange Pen-Pal Somewhere in this Dreaded Hospital With Me.

He squints at the opening line and rolls his wrist a few times. His chunky cast on his left arm holds down the paper lightly, but still doesn't work too well, making it frustrating to write. He lets out a huff of breath, trying to figure out what to write next, but coming up short. What if this guy doesn't wanna hear about Hinata's interests? That would make it difficult, considering his interests are all he has left to talk about.

Or what if he accidentally says something that upsets the guy? He has no idea what he's been through, and getting on his pen-pals bad side is exactly the last thing Hinata wants. He drops the pen, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples when his head starts to ache. He's definitely overthinking this, but he has no idea what to do. Eventually, he takes in his umpteenth deep breath and picks up the pen, deciding to just write. If his pen-pal doesn't like it, well, that's his problem, isn't it?

Nodding to himself furiously, he begins writing sloppily again. I'm not entirely sure what to write, if I'm being honest. This is so strange. I've never, like, written a letter before. Plus, I'm left-handed writing with my right hand, which does not make this any easier. Anyways- You know Kiyoko, of course you do. She's my therapist, too. Isn't she awesome? I love talking to her. I think she's really great... Anyways, do you play any videogames? Recently I've been playing this game called Minecraft- it's really fun. You should check it out sometime.

He stares at his rambling and frowns. Not only is his handwriting barely legible, he sounds like a five-year old. Either way, he shoves the thought away and continues writing. I used to play volleyball, too, if you've ever... Done that. I'm sorry, this is kind of awkward. I don't know anything about you. Kiyoko literally just told me the very basics, handed me some papers and a pen, and called it a day. Haha. Love that woman. But I hope you don't mind my excessive rambling. And I also hope that this isn't random. Like, I hope you want a pen-pal, too, and this isn't just out of the blue. I keep worrying you're gonna hate me... Okay, this is really starting to hurt my wrist, so I'm ending this first letter here. I didn't say my name, but I hope that adds to the fun. The anonymity. Haha, did I spell that right? I heard my English teacher use it once. It's a big word. No it isn't. Alright, bye!

Dropping the pen again, he stares down at his sad excuse for a letter proudly. He presses one of his call buttons and Kiyoko is there in less than ten seconds, looking worried, but then relaxing when she sees the letter. She comes over to the side of the bed, mumbling a quick 'hello' before picking up the letter. She starts reading it until Hinata lightly whacks the paper a bit. "Hey, confidential!" He jokes, just causing Kiyoko to smile lightly and fold the letter in surrender, not reading further.

"I hope this experience does some good for you," Kiyoko says politely. "I'll take this to his room, and you should get a response sometime within the next few days." She pauses. "The guy you're writing to... He can be sort of closed-off," she says quietly, almost as if he's there in the room, which of course, he isn't. "But I think with your bubbly personality, you might be able to become his friend. If you ever want to stop writing to him, though-"

Hinata interrupts her. "No, no. I won't," he says confidently. Kiyoko nods slowly. "Just deliver that letter to him, and tell him I'll be ready for a response whenever he wants to reply. No matter how long it takes." Seemingly satisfied but still looking a bit surprised, Kiyoko nods once, tucks the letter under her arm, and exits the room. Hinata lets out a breath, flopping backwards onto his pillow and closing his eyes. Sleep comes easily.

Four days later, Hinata gets a response.

He enters Kiyoko's office just like he does every other day, and of course, he right away asks if he's gotten a response. The last three days, Kiyoko just shook her head sadly and showed her empty desk, and while Hinata faltered every time he was told there was no reply, he tried not to let it get him down. But today, Kiyoko beams at him and hands him a paper, neatly placed inside a white envelope and all. Before she can even say 'hello' he's ripping it open to read it's contents. His eyes scan over it quickly, but then focus in, reading the letter carefully.

Dear... Exuberant Pen-Pal Somewhere in this Hospital With Me,

This is weird. Sorry, that's probably not what you want to hear, but this is so weird. I mean, usually pen-pals are across the country from each other, right? For all I know, you could be in the room next to me. And to me, that's just a little bit strange... Why isn't Kiyoko giving us actual pen-pals?

You don't know why, though, I'm guessing... Anyway- if you're not gonna tell me your name, then I'm not gonna tell you mine. And with all due respect, if you don't write back, it would really be helpful. I don't know what to write and I have plenty of friends without some weird pen-pal.

...But I guess if I have to do this, can I ask how long you've been here? You probably won't answer that if I don't tell you first. Actually, you might. You kind of seem like the kind of kid in high school who would never shut the fuck up. Excuse my language, sorry if it bothers you. Just let me know. Or don't, if you don't write back. God, anyways- I've been here for 1 year, 7 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days. My tip? Don't count the days, man. It starts to haunt you. But I can't really stop.

Again, not sure how long you've been here, but get back to me with that, if you're comfortable. If not, I guess I'd be happy to play Minecraft with you sometime. We can even play with some of my other friends, if you'd like? I dunno. Not often I find someone with the same tastes as me in games, or really anything. We do have volleyball in common, though; I played it a lot in elementary and middle school, but I started getting more into music in my late middle school, early high school days. I'm a senior now, though, and... Ah, whatever.

Hey, next time you write me, give me your username. If you don't have a computer, just ask one of the nice nurses for one- trust me, if you do the puppy eyes, they always take pity. But don't take the one with the purple light-up keyboard; it runs super slow. I'll invite you to my realm, and we can go from there.

Bye now... Weirdo.

Hinata stares at the letter, blinking, heart pounding with excitement. He just wrote to a person, someone his age, his grade, and everything, and they responded! It felt like it'd been weeks since he had someone to talk to. Even though his mom and sister visited as often as they could, Natsu never had much in common with him, and his mom often spent time chewing on her nails and talking in hushed tones to his doctor, bags under eyes and worry present in her face wherever she went.

Natsu didn't understand very well- how could she, at such a young age- and Hinata kept it that way. She found coming to the hospital a fun adventure, and whenever she asked about the tubes Hinata was hooked up to and why he could no longer stand up and play with her, he would just laugh and tell her the tubes were giving him superpowers. Her eyes lit up as soon as she heard that, and then every time she came in, she'd ask another question about his powers. It added happiness to her life, and to his own, seeing her so excited.

-And of course, I told her they were giving me an invisibility potion. She asked me to prove it, and when I tell you I panicked... Hinata smiles as he jots down on a piece of paper one month later, writing his fourth letter back to his pen-pal. He'd started to call him 'Raven,' because he slipped up in one of his notes and mentioned he had dark, raven-colored hair. As for Raven, he referred to Hinata as Sun, due to his fiery and bright personality. Hinata liked it, because for once in his life, he felt like he was sunny. Glowing, passionate once again.

The only issue is when he doesn't feel that way.

When it's late at night and he stares out his hospital window, longing for something he can't identify- or maybe he can, but he doesn't bother trying to look for it, because it's too far out of reach. And on nights like that, when he has a small table in front of him over his legs and a blank paper and a pen, and his mind feels fuzzy, he writes.

Sometimes he writes so much his wrist feels like it might fall off and his casted arm aches from him moving it to stop the paper from shifting so often. Sometimes he wakes up in a cold sweat, the image of bright lights and crushed dreams causing him to shoot up in bed, heart pounding, and immediately grabs the paper off the nightstand. And he writes, writes down every little thing he can think of, sometimes to Raven, sometimes to Natsu, sometimes to himself.

"Shoyo," Kiyoko says one day in the office, watching as he sticks his tongue out to focus and scribbles words down on a paper. She never reads what he writes- Hinata asked her not to, and she respects that- but now, she hovers a bit closer. Hinata looks up at her, breaking his concentration. She has her hands folded politely on the desk. "I've been thinking... You're getting your cast off your arm tomorrow, correct?" She asks, and Hinata glances over to the calendar on her wall X's marking off passed days. Sure enough, it's tomorrow, and he glances at his cast.

Grinning at Kiyoko, he nods excitedly. "Yeah, I am! Oh man, I'm so excited. How long do you think it'll be before I can push myself everywhere and use it to write?" Kiyoko blinks. "Oh, sorry, I'll probably have to ask a different doctor... Um, anyways, what were you saying?"

"I was thinking. After you get your cast off, how would you feel about going to group therapy?" She doesn't give him time to respond at first, already knowing what his immediate answer will be. "Listen, I'm just asking you to consider, okay? But I think this could be really good for your recovery. You'll be talking to other people, some who've been through similar things you have, and some who haven't, but still have their own advice to give." She leans back in the chair, giving Hinata a look that he might even call pleading. "Again, I'm leaving this up to you. But I really do think this could be good for you."

Hinata chews on his lip, wigging his toes a bit in their cast, feeling cold. "I don't know," he says. "How many people will be there? How long, and when? And who will I be with?"

Kiyoko inhales sharply. "Well, that's... That's where it gets complicated. We would be cutting down our daily visits to just the weekends, as group therapy will be at 12:00 instead of your one-on-one sessions with me." Hinata doesn't even have to consider it, shaking his head. "Shoyo, listen to me. I know you don't want to, okay? And I hear you. I do. But I really think this will help you. You'll be happier around other people."

Clouds cover the sky outside the window. Hinata glances up at them, the sun hidden, curtains drawn and the first signs of winter showing. It's funny to him, how there was sunshine just two months ago when he was in this office for the first time. He remembers feeling blinded by it, so much so that Kiyoko bought curtains- she never said it was for Hinata specifically, but he knew there was no way she missed the way he squinted on certain days- but now, he misses it.

"Alright," Hinata says hesitantly, glancing down at his left arm, wrapped in gauze and cotton and an orange dressing. A spike of adrenaline courses through him. "Okay, I'll do it."

A heavy feeling sits in his chest when he sleeps that night, and sleep does not come easy, even with the melatonin he took. He finds himself staring out his window again, the view of tall city buildings and bright lights and cars rushing below filling his mind. Usually, the sound is strangely comforting to him; a reminder that he is not the only one in this world doing anything- but tonight, it's all too loud and all too much for him.

Before he really realizes what he's doing, he shuffles out of bed and maneuvers himself into his wheelchair. What's he got to lose? Worst case scenario, he says he was sleep-wheeling and gets sent back to his room. The thought makes him giggle a bit as he opens the door and pushes himself out into the hallway, carefully moving using his good arm. This section of the hospital's lights turned off long ago, the hallways unlit and other doors closed shut.

Hinata continues down the hallway, careful not to strain his good arm anymore than he already has with the hundreds of words he's been writing. The thought of his pen-pal, of all things, pops into his head then, the image of a tall boy with raven black hair and a scary face. Hinata decided not to play Minecraft with him because of his arm, but Raven didn't actually seem to mind. Their letters had started getting sent more frequently, some even in the same day, because all they really had to do was give the letter to Kiyoko and she'd deliver it whenever she could. This resulted in much more talking, even just over the course of the past month.

And he can't help but smile at that thought- that is, until, he's abruptly stopped by someone swinging open the door to the storage closet down the hall. It's a guy with an intimidating gaze who's hooked up to an IV pole standing before him, freezing with wide eyes at the sight of Hinata in front of him. He stares in shock at first, face falling, before quickly rushing out and wheeling Hinata into the closet. Of course he yells in protest at first, but he's not really a match for someone who not only towers over him, but can also actually walk.

Then he's sitting in a supply closet with a strange guy he doesn't know, about to yell at him when a finger is placed firmly against his lips. Well, he can't really see anything in the closet, so at first it's his cheek and nose, and then his lips. Someone walks by outside the closet, whistling a song Hinata doesn't recognize and jangling around what's most likely a lanyard. The noise continues down the hallway before silencing entirely, and then, yet again, he's stuck inside a dark closet with a teenager who smells vaguely of hospital and sweat.

Hinata clears his throat awkwardly, but he's cut off before he can even get the first word out. A lightbulb flicks on above him, and then three other boys stand up off the floor. The one with poorly-dyed black and blonde hair gives him a small nod of acknowledgement, whereas a tall boy with white hair is practically vibrating with energy.

"Hey! What's your name? Mine is Bokuto." He asks right away, putting a hand out. He, too, has an IV hooked up to his hand, and his skin is pale as snow, clothes hanging off his thin frame. Hinata clears his throat and laughs slightly awkwardly, putting a hand out and shaking Bokuto's. He doesn't have a very firm grip, clearly very weak, but still tries to come off as strong. Hinata can't actually remember the last time he met someone his age and they shook his hand.

"My name is Hinata. You can call me Shoyo, if you'd like," he says politely. One of the other boys, who looks the healthiest out of all of them, kicks his feet around.

"I'm Akaashi."

"And I'm Kenma," the boy with two-toned hair from before says to him. He pulls his phone out of his pocket when it buzzes, clearly disinterested in Hinata, which he's fine with. That leaves him turning to the boy who actually dragged him in here in the first place, a guy with black hair who's wearing sweatpants and a turtleneck that's far too large for him and has a breathing tube for his nose. He blinks at Hinata.

"Um, what's your name?" He asks.

Akaashi steps in. "That's Tobio Kageyama," he says. Kageyama just waves, mouth pressed into a line. Akaashi seems to eye Kageyama, but the boy just gives him a careless shrug, so he continues speaking. "He can't talk," he explains. "Throat cancer. Stage 4."

The room goes deathly silent then, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Even Bokuto stops bouncing his foot on the floor, staring sadly at the floor. Kageyama exhales through his nose, loud enough to break the silence, and pulls a notebook off the shelf behind him. He scribbles something down, then shows it to Hinata.

Quit acting like that. And get out; this is our hangout spot, not yours.

Hinata eyes the handwriting, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over him, but he's shoved out of the closet before he even has the chance to say goodbye. He stares in shock as the door slams behind him, turning the wheels of his chair carefully with his injured arm.

Tobio, huh? He thinks angrily as he goes down the hallway back toward his room. Fuck you.

The next day when Hinata wakes up, though slightly perturbed by the events of yesterday night, he excitedly gets out of bed and into the wheelchair before his nurse can even bring breakfast. She laughs, handing him a cheese stick off the plate but agreeing to take him to the doctor right away. And that's how he finds himself waiting outside the small room, the cast on his left arm feeling like it weighs a thousand pounds. Luckily, he doesn't have to wait too long, because after five minutes the door opens and a little girl exits, admiring her (presumably) now cast-free arm with a smile.

The doctor looks around, then spots Hinata and grins. "Shoyo! So good to see you again. Come on in, kid, let's talk," she says, holding open the door while Hinata enters. He quickly and carefully moves himself up onto the table, antsy to finally get his cast off.

"Yachi, how long will it be before I can really use it again?" He asks while she sets down a clipboard and writes some stuff down across from him. Without turning her back, she answers.

"Oh, I dunno, kid. It depends. I don't want you doing any crazy tricks with it or carrying something heavy, but you can write, you can type, you can move your wheelchair on your own, if you'd like." She sets down the pen with a sigh and claps her hands together, turning back to the redhead. "Whatever you dream of doing, you'll probably be able to do it within the next five minutes, kiddo." Though a senior in high school, he'd almost grown accustomed to being called 'kid' by the doctors and nurses here.

Still, he smiles politely and slightly impatiently and holds out his arm when Yachi grabs the small instrument to remove it. A careful and long minute later, and he's flexing his arm and elbow around until Yachi inhales sharply and tells him to be careful. It still feels sore, and the skin on it is much more pale and has little imprints on it, but it doesn't hurt besides a small ache, and he can move it. That's all that really matters to him, and he grins happily.

His arm feels simultaneously brand new and fresh, and achy and small. Still, he rolls around his wrist and looks at the healed bone. Yachi asks a few simple questions- he powers through them quickly, weeks of Kiyoko's therapy making that easy- before coming to a stop and pressing his lips together. Yachi finishes writing and tucks her clipboard under her arm, checking her watch. "Alright, you're all set, kiddo. Any questions?"

He hesitates, just for a moment. "Am I... When am I going to get the casts off my legs?"

Yachi, who's been doing a fairly good job at keeping a happy smile on her face the entire time, frowns, staring down at Hinata's wiggling toes. "I don't know, kid. Your legs are- Well, the bones got shattered, you know," she says the last part barely above a whisper. "I'll tell you what. I'll make you an appointment a few months from now to see how they're doing, alright?"

He grins, beginning to slide off the table and back into his wheelchair. "Yeah, totally!"

Her eyes brighten. "Perfect. Your nurse will tell you the exact date... sometime." She pauses, as if wondering if she missed anything, but then looks back up at Hinata. "You're good to go. I'll see you soon, kiddo. And be careful, okay? I don't want you to overuse it!"

Hinata is already halfway out the door by the time she finishes and opts to just give her a thumbs up. She shuts it behind him, and he pauses idly in the hallway for a moment. Kiyoko's office is just a few hallways down, but then he remembers group therapy. He checks his phone- 11:55. Taking a deep breath, he turns and goes the hall opposite of Kiyoko's office. It feels strange; a break in his normal routine. Granted, usually he goes from his room, but either way, it still feels strange not going straight to his favorite therapists office.

She said this would be good for me, right? He thinks nervously, chewing on the inside of cheek as he presses a button on the elevator to take him to the fourth floor. He's on the tenth floor, which is actually nice. He spends some nights sitting on the couch by the large, glass, windows watching the world below. The city is always lit up and bright and colorful, and while heights might scare someone else- specifically Natsu, who freaked out the first time she was in the room- he finds it comforting being so high up. Safe and sound.

The view from the fourth floor is almost equally as nice though, and this particular day is sunny and bright. Hinata smiles- he'll have to talk about his experience here to Raven. There's a garden outside the hospital as well- what for, he has no idea. The thought of going there one day and writing about it to Raven is even better, though, and before he knows it he's pulling out his phone to type up a note on all the things to tell Raven about.

And then it's 12:03 and he's still in the middle of the hallway.

Cursing, he shoves his phone into his pocket messily and goes as quickly as he possibly can down the hallway. A few doctors and nurses stare at him funny- one of them even stops and asks if he needs help, and he nearly runs over their foot- but eventually, at 12:07, he's outside a room with a circle of chairs and two, large, glass doors. The natural light shining into the room is nice. Hinata shoves open the door best he can while in a wheelchair. A man stops mid-sentence to help him in, then removes a seat to give him a place to sit.

He does, and then the entire group is quiet, blinking at the new addition. Hinata quickly gathers that he must be one of the only new people in a long time, so he laughs nervously and stares at his shoes. "Uh, hello. My name is Hinata Shoyo- you can call me either." A pause. He doesn't fill the silence, and it's then that he spots a familiar face sitting in one of the chairs. Not a good one, either- storage closet boy gives him a smirk. Hinata glares at him.

Luckily, before he and the boy inevitably get into a staring contest, the boy from before who held the door open for him nods to acknowledge him before speaking. "Nice to meet you, Shoyo. Uh, I'm Asahi, it's nice to meet you. Why are you here?"

The answer comes out before he can stop himself. "I don't know, actually. My therapist told me I should come here and she's never failed me before, so..." He trails off, and Asahi just nods.

"Alright. Would anyone like to share something?" Hinata has never seen a room look so dead, empty, and tired. "Absolutely anyone. Come on, nobody? This doesn't work unless you guys make it work."

A short boy with the front part of his hair dyed blonde stands up. "Hi, I'm Nishinoya, and I play volleyball." Hinata's eyes light up at the thought of someone else playing volleyball, and Nishinoya must notice, because he grins at Hinata. "And judging by the way you reacted, you do too, don't you?" He points straight at Hinata.

"Yeah!" He exclaims. "I do! Well- I guess I did, past tense. Um." He stares awkwardly at his legs, but it doesn't seem to faze the other boy.

"Broken legs are nothing, man. You'll be out there playing volleyball again before you even know it." Hinata smiles at him, and for the first time in a while, it actually feels genuine and real. "I broke my hip once. Now I'm out there doing all sorts of cool moves-"

Asahi laughs gently, interrupting their conversation. "Okay, why don't you two continue this conversation during our break?" He asks politely. Nishinoya rolls his eyes, but sits back down, his smile returning when he meets Hinata's eyes. The redhead returns the happy expression.

The rest of the session goes by smoothly after Nishinoya practically lights up the room with his energy, random people sharing both heartfelt and hilarious stories. Like the time one of the boys, Tanaka, managed to knock down a vending machine with his IV pole and got in huge trouble, but at least he got a free soda. But then there are other stories, much more serious ones about what all the people here have been through.

Hinata doesn't like to think about it, because thinking about what happened to him is sad. And every pitiful look he's given, every gentle touch he gets from an old friend as if he's fragile and about to break, makes him want to scream.

"I think that pity is stupid," he begins confidently. "I don't want to be treated differently because of what I went through, and I told my mom and friends exactly that when I woke up from the incident."

The boy from the storage closet- Kageyama, he recalls- sits there, eyes twinkling, but Hinata doesn't catch it until after he's blinked and it's disappeared.

"Hey!" An energetic voice fills the air as Hinata sits next to a table with coffee and a basket of snacks, chewing on some banana bread and drinking hot chocolate. It's the same boy from before, with the same bit of dyed hair and bright, brown, eyes. "I was thinking about what you said back there, about pity? And I thought it was smart." Hinata feels himself turn red, and just nods and laughs. "I never thought of it like that. But you're right- People are more than what they've been through."

A notebook slams down in front of them. Hinata and Nishinoya both jump, then read. Fuck pity.

He lifts his head to see storage-closet-boy, Kageyama, standing right there, arms crossed with a pencil sticking out of his pocket. Nishinoya blinks at him, then excitedly says, "Yeah, fuck pity!"

Hinata smiles; the other boy doesn't. Luckily, Nishinoya continues carrying the conversation. "Hey, back to before- You said you play volleyball, right?" He turns to Kageyama. "What about you? Did you ever play it? You look tall enough to have played it."

Kageyama shakes his head, picking up the notebook again. A few years. Not anymore.

"That's still pretty cool," Hinata joins in. "Did you ever plan to go to nationals?" Kageyama shakes his head, crossing his arms again, and Hinata is starting to think that's just the guys default pose. "What about you, Noya? You almost look like you still play, but-"

"I do!" He interrupts, bouncing his feet a bit as if he's filled with far too much pent-up energy. Maybe he is. "Well- I play whenever I can. But usually I'm in bed, or I have to bring a nurse with me to whatever gym I use to play it." His demeanor falters then, as if battling mentioning something or not, and Hinata keeps quiet. "I'm kind of too weak to play it now," he adds quietly. "But I had a good run playing it throughout my childhood and high school years."

Hinata pats his legs gently. "We're in the same boat, man," he says, trying to lighten the mood. Nishinoya laughs. "Hey- As soon as I'm out of these casts, we should go and play. It could be fun, even if it's a bit difficult with your strength level."

Throughout this all, Kageyama leans against the table, listening intently. Hinata eyes him curiously as he picks up his notebook and writes something yet again, then shoves it in their faces. Could I join you guys whenever you decide to?

"Oh hell yeah, I knew you secretly wanted to join us!" Nishinoya yells excitedly. Kageyama just nods again, but Hinata sees the way he straightens up a bit, almost excitedly. Maybe that's just the nice thing about Nishinoya's aura, constantly lighting the place up. But then Hinata stares at his pale skin and baggy clothes and remembers something is off, but he chooses to keep his mouth shut.

Kageyama picks up the notebook again, then shoves it in Hinata's face. Let's hope you're better at volleyball than you are at sneaking around hospitals at night.

Baffled, Hinata chokes on his words, making Kageyama's eyes crinkle in the cutest way and a silent giggle to escape him. "You- Asshole!"

"Am I missing something?" Nishinoya asks.

"No!" Hinata yells, rolling his eyes before leaving as quickly as he can to hide his smile, his heart feeling weirdly full for the first time in a long time.

Hinata mindlessly taps a pencil against a blank sheet of paper, feeling tired and lost for words. It's dark outside, and the only source of light comes from Hinata's cell phone, which plays a random episode from Criminal Minds that he thought would be entertaining, but as it turns out, has only made him feel nervous and ready for a serial killer to attack him at any moment. Outside, snow falls down harshly, clouding any view outside the window except for the buildings that are the closest.

A minute passes of silence, save for the quiet sounds of the TV show playing. Hinata sighs, turning to the window and frowning. He feels like he's told Raven everything over the past month. Their letters continued to be sent back and forth, until Hinata eventually had to buy a box to keep them all in. It sits on his shelf now, decorated with all sorts of stickers and drawings (Natsu insisted on decorating it when she came over, and Hinata decided if it would get her to stop nagging him, it was worth it). It makes him smile, seeing two of his favorite things in one place- Natsu and Raven.

Hinata doesn't even realize an entire episode has passed before the credits are playing and the time on his phone reads 12:37 am. He needs to finish this letter before tomorrow's session with Kiyoko. So he picks up the pencil and begins writing carefully with his left hand. Raven had mentioned how much his handwriting had improved since they first started writing to each other, and Hinata had excitedly mentioned that his arm has healed. Raven sent him stickers back to celebrate- where he got them from, Hinata still has no idea- but he placed them around his room and looks at them whenever he's upset for the gentle reminder that someone cares enough about him to give him such a cute gift.

There's this other guy, too, Hinata writes in the letter, scowling. He's at every one of my group therapy sessions. I don't think he's that bad, but he always finds a way to make fun of me... Granted, it's more so playful banter- but still! And then he goes on to mention all the tales from the past month, stating everything about the guy except his name and appearance, just that he's a total asshole. How he poured salt in Hinata's hot cocoa instead of sugar. How he always looks weirdly satisfied when Hinata starts yelling at him. When he mentioned how much shorter he was than him, which actually almost caused Hinata to stand up, injured legs and all, just to tackle him.

All the stupid shenanigans, and yet he still the dark-haired boy is slightly cute, but he doesn't mention that to Kageyama.

"Something is different about you," Nishinoya said one day as they wandered around the hospital. They did this often near the end of the day, when Hinata's section of the hospital was closing and there was a few minutes left of peace and time to walk around before they were sent to their rooms. Hinata had cocked his head and given him a confused look. "You look brighter."

"It's all because of Raven," Hinata had said confidently. "I think- He's one of the best friends I've had in a long time." Nishinoya took a swig out of his hot cocoa.

"Your pen-pal, right? Man, I wish I got one," he said. "Kiyoko put you two together, right?" Hinata nodded. "She's a tough therapist to get. Super cute, too! You got lucky. Tanaka had her for about a month, but then he got transferred to another one when-" He cut himself off. "Whatever. I'm happy for you, man."

Hinata beamed.

I think I wanna play volleyball again one day. When my legs have healed, I'll probably be out of this hospital, and then I wanna get back out there. He pauses his movements, reading over the past few things he wrote. Alright, I'm actually writing this at like, midnight, so I'm gonna go to bed now. I hope to get a letter back from you soon, Raven.

He sets down the pencil and turns to his phone screen, turning off his phone just before the killer in the show has the chance to stab his victim. Twisting his body in a way that definitely is not normal, he turns and grabs an envelope off his nightstand and folds his letter neatly before shoving it into the envelope. He draws a moon on the outside of it. Raven always sends back letters and puts a sun on it. This is the way it's always been, and it's always special to just them.

He flops his head against the pillow, head pounding and mind swimming with thoughts. He inevitably turns his head towards the window once again, where snow continues falling peacefully. It illuminates the room just a bit. Hinata doesn't actually understand the science behind it, but every time it snows, it's as if his room is a bit brighter. He'll have to ask Asahi about it at one of their next sessions; he seems to know everything about the questions the redhead can't answer himself.

With the thought of Raven in his mind and the soft hum of hospital machinery filling his ears, he smiles to himself and lets himself drift off into sleep, dreaming about a time he can actually see and talk to Raven.

I've been thinking about it for a while, and I wanted to give you my phone number. So, here it is.

Hinata stares at the paper, practically vibrating with excitement as he shoves the note into his pocket and wheels as quickly as he possibly can down the corridors of the hallway. He's grown familiar with the white walls and empty feeling that clouds this place, learned to find color and beauty even in the ugly and death-ridden building. But that's the least of his concerns as he violently jams a button on the elevator and goes up a few floors to the familiar room of his friends.

In minutes, he's standing outside the door and leaning forward in his wheelchair to knock rapidly on the wooden door. Nishinoya opens it and rubs his eyes, hair sticking up every which way. The first time Hinata came here, he awkwardly laughed and came inside while it took Nishinoya a few minutes to actually wake up. This time, Hinata snorts at him. "Wow. Looks like sleeping beauty had a great rest." He enters the room while Nishinoya holds open the door, though he does weakly smack Hinata's shoulder with a scowl.

"What are you doing waking me up at the early time of-" He pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the time- "Eleven am?"

"That's not early, dumbass. What time do you go to bed for that to be considered early?" He doesn't actually give him time to answer before he's waving his hand to silence Nishinoya and pulling the note out of his pocket. Nishinoya claps his hands excitedly, gasping. "I got another note from Raven, and you're never gonna believe this, dude." Nishinoya stares at him.

"Well, tell me!" He yells impatiently, charging forward and reaching for the note himself while Hinata laughs and fights back the best he can, holding it against his chest.

"Okay, okay! Impatient, much?" He giggles while Nishinoya rolls his eyes. "Raven gave me his phone number. This would be the first time we've ever spoken outside of our letters. So I came to tell you first, because, well, you're kind of my only friend."

"First of all, you have Kageyama, too, dumbass. Though he'd definitely just make fun of you," Nishinoya begins, taking a seat on a plastic orange chair by his desk. "Second, that's so exciting! Text him!"

Hinata blinks. "Okay, woah, backtrack- Kageyama is not my friend," Hinata scowls. "He can barely tolerate my existence at the meetings. And he's constantly making fun of me, and do you ever notice how he never gently hands his notebook to me, he slams it into my lap? That's hardly friendly behavior."

"Oh my god. You're an idiot. He does that because he likes you, genius," Nishinoya says with a smile. "That's why he's mean to you. Trust me, I can tell when someone likes someone else."

Hinata, baffled, chokes on his words for a moment before coughing and clearing his throat. "That's so stupid. If someone's mean to you, they're an asshole, not someone who has a crush on you... Besides, I don't like him back." A pause, then he smiles. "He's nothing like Raven."

"Raven this, Raven that, when are you even gonna meet this guy?" Nishinoya teases. "I mean, it's been what, almost three months? You would think you'd figure out who this guy is by now, but nothing." Hinata plays with his hands, staring at the letter and the phone number that taunts him.

"Do you-" He cuts himself off, but Nishinoya's playful demeanor falters at his friends suddenly hesitant expression.

"What's up?"

"Do you really think it's weird that I've never met him?" Hinata finally asks quietly.

Nishinoya ponders the question for a moment. "I think there are far stranger things in the world," he finally settles, gesturing to the machines surrounding his hospital bed. He gives a small smile to Hinata and just hopes it's comforting. "Listen. Writing to Raven clearly makes you happy, and even though I think the dudes a total weirdo just based on the few snippets you've shown me-" Hinata chuckles- "he makes you smile, and that's all I want for my friends. Happiness. Especially in a place like this."

"Thanks, Noya," Hinata says, and the latter just gives him a reassuring smile. "Alright. Okay, I'll text him. I just- I hope it isn't weird between us. Like, would this mean we stop with the letters?"

"Of course not!" Nishinoya exclaims, his playfulness from before returning. "I used to have a pen-pal all the way from Georgia. We spoke every day on the phone and through letters. It's like- Having two different conversations at once, I guess," he settles.

Hinata nods slowly, then pulls his phone out of his pocket. He doesn't get many texts, if ever, but Natsu- who just her first iPod- loves to spam him with emojis and photos of animals all the time. He swipes away the messages she sent, deciding he can deal with them later, and adds a new contact. Nishinoya hovers over his shoulder while he types the numbers into the keypad, adds in his name, and adds it to his phone.

"...What do I write?" He asks. Nishinoya groans.

"Oh, hell no. I'm not going through the whole 'Oh my god, what am I supposed to say, I'm so nervous' thing with you. You type 'hey,' click send, and then kiss kiss fall in love," he says. Hinata bursts into laughter, grabbing his phone back when Nishinoya grabs it to type.

"Hey! Give it bac-"

"Dumbass! You just made me hit send!"

From: Hinata [Sent 11:14 AM]
Hwyhndkn fn

Hinata gapes at the message, feeling his face turn red with fury. Slowly, he turns to Nishinoya, who is clearly trying desperately not to burst into laughter. Hinata feels speechless. "I," he begins slowly, "am going to fucking kill you, Yū Nishinoya."

"Sorry?" He says sheepishly, and quickly sprints towards the door to run. Hinata tries to go after him, but after moving about two feet, he finds that it's actually more comfortable to not chase his friend around a huge hospital when he can't even use his legs. Then the situation all comes rushing back to him and, panicked, he rips his phone back out of his pocket to read over the text.

Read at 11:15 AM.
Raven is typing...

From: Raven [Sent: 11:15 AM]
Bless you.

Hinata feels a laugh bubble out of him, face turning bright red as he facepalms and tries to think of what to write back.

From: Hinata [Sent: 11:17 AM]
sorry about that, my friend grabbed my phone... this is sun, by the way

From: Raven [Sent: 11:17 AM]
Oh, awesome. How are you today?

From: Hinata [Sent: 11:18 AM]
awesome!! dude ur never gonna believe what I'm doing later today

From: Raven [Sent: 11:19 AM]
Really? Tell me about it :)

Hinata feels his heart glow.

"For the last time, Noya, if we met, you would be the first dude to know," Hinata says as him and Nishinoya walk over to the table with all the nice treats and drinks. A month has passed since he first texted Raven, and he's never felt like time has flown by quite as fast. The letter writing kept up, but it became much less frequent once they had other means of communication, and nights of staying up writing letters to Raven became nights staying up texting him.

Nishinoya hops onto the table, holding onto his IV pole and letting out a sigh. "Okay yeah, you say that, but then again, I didn't see you with that jacket last week and it totally looks like something you'd borrow from Raven." Hinata looks down at the black jacket he's had for years and frowns.

"I was wearing this the day we met."

Nishinoya blinks. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that at this point? I feel like I'm more excited about it than you are! I mean, don't you wanna meet him-?"

"Noya," Hinata interrupts sternly. "I'm doing what he's comfortable with. And if that means not meeting him for literal months, I'm gonna be patient with him, alright?"

"Wait, he doesn't want to meet?" Nishinoya asks, baffled.

"It's just-" He purses his lips. "I don't know. We've never really talked about it. Sometimes things change once you know someone in person, and I think we're both scared of that happening. He was the first thing that made me happy in this dreaded place."

Nishinoya looks like his brain has been rattled, but luckily, he doesn't have to think about it for long before a familiar figure approaches them. A notebook is dropped into Hinata's lap, and he grumbles, looking up at Kageyama. He's got his hands in his pockets and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

What are you guys talking about?

"None of your business, weirdo," Hinata fires. Kageyama looks unfazed. "Whatever. Anyways, Nishinoya-" Before he even has the chance to finish his sentence the notebook is grabbed roughly from his lap and being written on messily once again. Hinata pauses his sentence- this is clearly Kageyama's way of interrupting him- and seconds later, the notebook is given back to him.

Will you come with me somewhere? I want to show you something.

It's written quickly and messily, though Hinata guesses that's what happens when you write something with such vigor and speed. Once he's read it, he looks back up at Kageyama, freezing. This is definitely the plot to a Criminal Minds episode. Kageyama's gonna take him to a random closet, murder him, and get away with it. And yet he still looks into his eyes, shrugs, and says, "Alright."

Nishinoya gives them a funny look as Kageyama leads Hinata out of the large group therapy room. "Alright, yeah, leave your poor friend behind! Not like I'll be lonely or anything!" He jokes, but the duo is already out the door before he can say anything else.

"Where are we going?" Hinata asks. Kageyama blinks at him, then writes something down quickly.

Garden.

"Sure you're not gonna kill me in an empty room?" He jokes. Hinata has seen the hospital garden a few times before; it's overgrown with multiple plants and flowers, but absolutely gorgeous in it's own way, and he's always dreamed of being in it one day. With all the snow the city has been getting lately, and the fact that patients aren't exactly allowed out there without authorization, he hasn't been able to find a time to go out there. Even though the two of them technically don't have permission, where's the harm if you don't get caught, right? He allows that thought to carry him through the cold hospital corridors.

Kageyama chuckles, continuing to walk while he writes his response before handing his notebook back to Hinata. Not gonna kill you. It'd be too much work cleaning it up.

Hinata doesn't even know why he feels mildly offended at that. "Excuse me? I can clean up after my own murder, thank you very much." And then Kageyama turns to him, nose crinkling, lips upturned in a small grin, and a small laugh escaping his throat. "Hey, wait, is that-"

"Possible?" Kageyama asks in a quiet and hoarse voice. They stop outside the garden, where he holds open the door for the redhead. "Yeah."

His voice is nothing like Hinata expected. Despite his cold and brooding demeanor, his voice is soft, maybe even gentle, and a lot higher than he expected. That's not to say it isn't deep, though- he doesn't sound like Natsu or something- but he's just a bit above Hinata. His voice is croaky, too, as if he hasn't used it in years, and maybe he hasn't, when Hinata really thinks about it. He just doesn't know why he'd choose to use it now.

The two of them go out into the garden, Kageyama taking a seat on the edge of the bench while Hinata goes next to him. The two of them sit in silence for a bit, the ground cold and wet from the snow they had the other day. That's definitely a hazard for wheelchairs, Hinata thinks, but he keeps his mouth clamped shut until he realizes Kageyama isn't gonna talk until he does.

"Um, sorry if this is intrusive, but- You can talk?"

Kageyama pulls out the notebook again, writing messily. It takes him a minute to get it all down on paper. I have my vocal chords and my voice box. The doctors just advise against me speaking because of the cancer in them. It kind of hurts- He erased that part, Hinata can tell- It really hurts, actually, to speak. But I like to laugh, even when it hurts, because sometimes it's all I really can do.

"That's... That's sad, Tobio," Hinata begins gently. Kageyama just nods, as if he's been told it a thousand times before.

The past month he knew Kageyama told him everything he thought he needed to know. Kageyama is cold and brooding; he doesn't make friends (but he likes Nishinoya and Hinata, and the little storage closet crew, and okay, maybe he does make friends). But he keeps them all at an arms-length, he's noticed. Even in group therapy, he seems to sink into his chair and make himself unknown, never being called on and never being encouraged to talk about himself. And at first, Hinata found it sad, and pitied him.

But then he remembered his own words the first day in group therapy. Maybe he doesn't want to be viewed differently, Hinata thinks as he watches the way he fiddles with his hands before picking up his notebook to write again. Hinata leans back in his wheelchair- at least as far back as he can without toppling over- and takes in a deep breath of the cold air. He's left the hospital a few times to get some air, mostly when an hour goes by and Natsu starts complaining about being cramped up, so he takes her around outside the hospital, but the air when it's cold out is unmatched.

Kageyama sets the notebook back down in the lap. Gently, almost hesitantly, and Hinata almost finds it strange. What happened to your legs?

Hinata blinks. "Well, that's blunt," he laughs nervously. Kageyama looks into his eyes, unwavering while Hinata runs a hand through his hair. "I don't see why it's any of your business." A pause. Kageyama doesn't look hurt, nor surprised, just shrugs and grabs his notebook back.

Kageyama writes again. Do you wanna hang out at the storage closet tonight?

Thinking he misread it, Hinata laughs, then smiles, and it's as if he can't stop. Maybe he's actually starting to make an effort, and Hinata couldn't ask for something better. "Yeah. Yeah, I would love to! What time?" Kageyama nods in approval at his excitement, standing up and holding up ten fingers, presumably to tell Hinata to be there at ten 'o clock.

"Hey, wait!" Hinata yells as Kageyama walks towards the doors, then stops abruptly. Hinata pauses. "Why are you suddenly being... Like this to me?"

Kageyama hesitates for just a moment before pulling out his notebook. He writes. Holds it up to Hinata, pages flapping through the wind. Life is too short for me to be a dick to everyone.

Living in a hospital, Hinata doesn't like what that implies, but he says thank you anyway and follows him back inside.

Hinata finds himself going to the storage closet just about every night.

The first night in there, it's cramped and quiet and the other people there seem less than ecstatic to have someone else with them. It smells like cleaning supplies and teenagers and sweat, the same way it did the first time he was there, but Kageyama's eyes light up in a way he never sees them do, so he decides to stay. He doesn't smile often, Hinata notices; there are little smirks here and there when someone makes a joke, but they never quite meet his eyes, as if he's scared to truly let himself feel happiness.

Little things like that are what Hinata notices about him, and what he writes to Raven about, sometimes. How his entire life seems like a shield to protect himself from anything that could potentially hurt him in any way, and it's hard to be laughing with someone when you know that those laughs aren't coming from their heart, but from a chamber of lies, pre-rehearsed and fake. But then they do meet his eyes sometimes and Hinata wonders if he's looking too deeply into it.

He's like a quick attack in volleyball that Hinata can't figure out, but that's never stopped him before, and he doesn't let it.

Akaashi, Kenma, and Bokuto are there the first few nights, but after a few days, disappear overall. Akaashi was released, Kenma presumably has better things to do, and Bokuto was moved to another hospital. Kageyama and Hinata are there just about every night, though. Hinata arrives at 10:00 on the dot, and the door is opened and he's let in and they giggle quietly while thinking about how stupid of an idea this is and how much trouble they'll get in if they're caught. He can't remember what they talk about exactly, sometimes. On the night of Kageyama's birthday in December, though, when it snows outside and it's just three days before Christmas, he writes in a different way.

His handwriting was always messy and rushed, and Hinata always thought it matched the way his mind worked fairly well. The smarter the person, the messier the handwriting, right? And Kageyama seemed fairly smart. But when he hands Hinata his notebook that night, after writing carefully and neatly, something shifts inside of him.

It's snowing.

Hinata reads it, over and over again. The storage closet has one window; it's smaller than any other one Hinata has ever seen, but it's there, and Kageyama can clearly see the flurry of white outside, the kind of snow they quite often in this part of town. He's staring out it at the city below, twiddling with the necklace Hinata gave him for his birthday just a few hours ago. The storage closet is silent as Hinata studies the words in the notebook, wondering why they look so damn familiar, when-

Oh my god. He looks over at Kageyama and blinks slowly. He looks distracted. Pale. You're Raven.

"What?" Kageyama mumbles, lifting his head up, eyes widening. He snatches the notebook out of Hinata's hands, writing his message, and Hinata let's his voice- which he's only heard once before now- ring in his head, over and over again, smooth with cracked edges, broken and beautiful. What name did you just say?

"I said-" Hinata pauses, chewing on his lip, heart racing. Kageyama looks like an animal under threat, hypervigilant as if ready to run at any moment and eyes clouded. "I said you're Raven. I'm- I didn't..."

"Hinata."

"Raven- Tobio- I didn't mean for this to- Like I thought-"

"Hinata."

He doesn't even register the way his name rolls off Kageyama's tongue. Uncertain, but full of kindness. Cracked. Rough edges, yet smooth. It hurts his brain.

"Please. I don't want to stop being friends. I didn't-"

And then Kageyama is leaning forward and enveloping him in a hug. His head rests on his friends shoulder, and he doesn't even realize he's shaking until his teeth chatter and his heart feels like it's moments away from beating out of his chest. Kageyama's IV pole gets tangled underneath his arm, but he doesn't move away, still leaning down in that strange position to hug Hinata. Neither one moves. Kageyama clearly doesn't hug people often, because his breathing feels strange and his arms are uncertain. But Hinata lifts his arms and wraps them around him in return.

A minute passes. The world stops spinning around Hinata, breath returning to his lungs, and he begins to wonder if that really happened. Kageyama grabs his notebook again, turning to a fresh page and writing. Neatly, carefully, kindly. I would never stop talking to you. You're my friend, Hinata.

Hinata laughs, but it isn't at him, it's rather out of happiness. Then the night continues on; usually the duo leaves the storage closet and goes their separate ways at midnight, but tonight, Hinata doesn't even think to check the time until it's well past four in the morning and his eyelids are heavy and his throat hurts from talking too much. And they talk about everything they can think of; the letters, their texts, the nights spent staying up late discussing life, everything except the fact that they're both in a hospital and they're both gonna part ways one day.

That thought stabs Hinata in the chest when he leaves Kageyama at 4:37 in the morning, going down the hallway. It hurts the most when he flops down into bed and shoves his face into the pillow, thinking about the way Kageyama sounded when he said his name, thinking about the way his hugs suck yet he wishes he would give them more often, and how his handwriting is neat and how he texts with proper capitalization and punctuation. How blunt he is without even thinking twice about how he sounds. How, after discovering he was Sun, Kageyama looked something other than empty. Maybe it wasn't happy, maybe it wasn't full. But it wasn't empty.

It hurts, Hinata thinks, because they were in a storage closet, Hinata is in a wheelchair, and Kageyama is hooked up to an IV.

He doesn't dream that night.

Christmas comes and goes the way Hinata expects it would in a hospital; Nishinoya buys practically everyone in their group therapy group presents, as does Asahi, and there's punch and drinks and cookies. Hinata finds it easy to socialize with most of the patients there, even getting into a heated conversation with a boy named Tanaka about the best Pokémon (he wins that argument) while Kageyama leans against a wall drinking punch out of a sad, red, cup.

He left Tanaka and Nishinoya that night to go stand by Kageyama. The conversation is almost a blur in his head, though he doesn't even know why, really. But he still goes to sit by his friend- friend?- yeah, friend, he finally settles. He takes a sip out of his own red cup.

"You look like you're thinking," Hinata says quietly. His head spins.

Kageyama leans down to set his cup on the ground, then writes, setting the notebook down in front of his friend. I am. Will you come with me somewhere?

"The garden?" Hinata asks, and Kageyama shakes his head. Shrugging, he nods, and Kageyama lies to a nurse about helping Hinata grab something from his room. Then they're going through the corridors again.

The walls don't look as gray as they did when Hinata first came in here.

Maybe it's just because Kageyama is walking through them with him.

Either way, the duo makes their way to the elevators and Kageyama presses the highest button on the elevator. "Gonna push me off the roof?" He jokes.

Kageyama gives him a disturbed look at just the thought of that. He pulls out his notebook again. Nah. Too much work, plus my fingerprints would be on your chair.

"Wow, I see you're a smart killer," he says as the two of them reach the highest floor. Kageyama just rolls his eyes and leads the two of them out of the elevator and towards a metal door that looks large and heavy. Kageyama holds onto his IV pole and pushes it open with as much force as he possibly can, then holds it open for Hinata, who quickly follows through. The cold night of the winter air hits his face right away, the hospital roof slippery. Kageyama carefully leads the two of them as close to the edge as possible without it being dangerous. Hinata frowns, staring at Kageyama, who gazes out over the city. "I don't understand, what-"

He turns his head and gasps, gaping at the beautiful view. The buildings are all lit up with Christmas lights, cars zoom by below, and Kageyama is smiling when Hinata looks at him. It doesn't look entirely full- there's something just a bit off about it- but he looks sort of happy. But then remembers where they are once again, how off it feels, and stares at his lap.

"I wish we met another way," Hinata says before he can help it, looking down over the edge and feeling cold.

Kageyama pulls the notebook out from under his arm. What do you mean? he writes, resting a hand against the fencing on the roof.

"Like- Not in this hospital," he says truthfully. "I wish we were, like, friends in high school, or something. And we bumped into each other in the hallway, or got assigned for a group project. Everything about this, it just feels- Like it was meant to go another way," he whispers. The wind howls in his ears. "I wish things were different sometimes."

Kageyama doesn't hesitate before writing, I don't.

Hinata looks up at him. "What?"

I don't want another Hinata, he writes after a moment, gazing out at the city, face blank. Hinata continues reading. If we met another way, it wouldn't be the same. I wouldn't have you, I'd have some sort of... Impostor Hinata. He looks down at Hinata's bright orange casts on his legs and smiles softly, writing again before gently placing the notebook back down in his lap. I would miss you if you were someone else.

"But you wouldn't know," Hinata argues, but there's no conviction behind his voice. Just mindless talking, empty arguments. "You'd just think it was me if we were in another universe."

"No," he says quickly, dark eyes meeting Hinata's light ones, and the redhead feels his heart jump at the sound of his voice. "I would know. And I would- Miss you. A lot." He lets out a huff of air, closing his eyes and wincing, and Hinata wants to tell him to stop overusing his voice if it hurts, but he loves it. He loves the way the words come out of his mouth. "I... I think you're my soulmate."

Hinata laughs.

He doesn't actually know why he does, and Kageyama gives him a funny look when does, and suddenly, he's bursting out laughing. And then crying. A lot harder than he means to, sobbing into his hands while Kageyama stares down at him. Hesitantly, he crouches down in front of Hinata and moves his hands out of his face, making their eyes meet. He gives his hands a small squeeze, smiling softly. "I didn't- Mean to start crying."

Kageyama grabs the notebook that still sits in Hinata's lap and turns it, writing before turning it back to his friend. Did I say something wrong?

"No," Hinata says breathlessly. "No, you said something really, really, right, Tobio." His lip trembles for a moment longer before he gives him another reassuring smile. "I guess I still don't know how to feel about everything, even after months of being in here."

Hey. Take it from someone who's been here for a year? Kageyama writes, and Hinata reads the words upside-down. It doesn't really get less confusing. But it gets easier. You'll figure it all out, I promise.

The night still feels strange. As if things are meant to be different. But he doesn't let it get to his head. "God, I hope so," Hinata says, and the flicker in Kageyama's eyes reassures him that he will.

The first time Hinata walks again is on the sixth of January in the late afternoon.

Well, walks is a strong word, actually; the first time he steps off the table in Yachi's little doctor's office and tries to stand, he topples over onto the ground, and then she's worriedly helping him back onto the table and scolding him about how he needs to listen to her instructions before trying to walk again. He just laughs sheepishly and rubs his knees, which are extremely sore, but stretches them back and forth carefully. It hurts; he stops.

Yachi sets down her clipboard and pen, turning back to Hinata. "Alright, kid. You might wanna walk with a walker for a bit, or just keep using your wheelchair. Your muscle's have really worn down, and it'll take some physical therapy to get them back to the way they were before..." She continues on while Hinata tunes her out, in awe at the fact that he can actually walk again. Well, maybe not yet, but his legs did heal, and that's what matters to him.

His happiness is quickly flushed away when a thought pops into his head. "Hey, Doctor Yachi?" She stops talking, perking up. "...When am I going to leave the hospital?"

She hesitates for a moment. "Well-" She's quiet again. "We aren't sure Hinata. But right now, we think it's best for you to stay here for the time being so we can keep treating you."

"But I'm-"

"Shoyo, I think the more important question is, when do you want to leave this place?" Yachi asks, leaning against one of the other tables and folding her arms. "When times get tough, you have two choices," she begins slowly. "Stand up and fight back. Or let it consume you. You decide what you're going to do."

He doesn't quite understand what she means by that, but still nods silently when she leaves the room to get him a walker.

Hinata starts to lose track of time in the hospital, somewhere between here and there, but never certain on what day of the week it is.

He isn't sure what causes it. He starts tracking how many days have passed based on the conversations he has with Kageyama in the storage closet. Each night is different; but it isn't in a good way. Hinata notices how Kageyama's writing gets sloppier, how his skin has gotten paler, how the bones in his wrists protrude a bit more and how he has to start wearing a thicker sweater to stay warm. He stops speaking at all; Hinata doesn't encourage him to, because he'll never admit how much the way Kageyama says his name makes him feel alive.

"Why do you never call me Shoyo?" Hinata asks one night as the two of them sit on the roof. Hinata stands with both hands firmly planted on either side of his walker while Kageyama leans against the fencing around the roof dangerously, gazing out at the city. He writes sloppily before showing the notebook to Hinata.

When you call someone by their name, you get attached.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hinata asks curiously, on the verge of being defensive. He pauses. "You don't... Want to get attached?"

Kageyama doesn't meet his eyes, but he shakes his head, writing again. I didn't exactly mean it like that.

"Then how did you mean it?" Hinata asks, confused. "The way you worded that, you clearly meant you don't like attached to people, but we're friends, right?" Kageyama's gaze looks far-off. He doesn't respond.

The rest of their time is silent, and he goes to bed at eleven pm that night, head clouded and thoughts fuzzy.

Weeks later, Hinata feels like he's never truly known Kageyama.

It's a silly thought. He's laying in bed one night in late January as it snows, hard, outside his window. An episode of Criminal Minds plays in the background, just to provide some noise and light, but Hinata can't find it in himself to focus on it. Not when he's overthinking every little interaction he's ever had with Kageyama. None of it actually makes sense; he knows everything about Kageyama. He can recite all his favorite things from memory, could tell you the way his room is arranged, his little sister's favorite song, and yet he doesn't truly know anything about his friend.

The two of them sit outside of an old gas station, Kageyama drinking water (probably the choice Hinata should have gone with) while Hinata takes swig after swig out of his peace tea. The sun begins setting in the distance, and they both know the hospital is probably going wild trying to figure out where the two of them went. He isn't sure when he became so reckless, and he almost wants to pin it on Kageyama, but he doesn't know why he has, either.

A notebook is placed in his lap. The sky is pretty.

And it is. An explosion of all sorts of purples, pinks, and oranges covering a used-to-be pale blue sky. So beautiful and colorful, yet Kageyama's eyes look dull, as if he's struggling to see it himself. And it's in that moment that Hinata wishes there was a way to explain colors, but he can't find a way to explain the beauty of dark red and lilac purple, so instead he parts his lips slightly and takes another sip from his drink.

"I agree," he says quietly. The air is thick; he doesn't know why.

Can I ask you something?

Hinata's eyes flick from the notebook back up to Kageyama's eyes. Dark and void. They look sad. "Yeah, go ahead."

Silent scribbling. His mind feels fuzzy as he looks down at the words. What happened to your legs?

Hinata feels his heart sink, shivering slightly at the question, feeling frozen. He stares down at his now cast-less legs, bent knees, pale skin, and feels speechless. There are cracks in the pavement. "I crashed my car a few months back on purpose. Suicide." He pauses, takes in a breath, trying to figure out when it all changed. "I was gonna play volleyball full-time, but after that incident... I'm not sure what I'll do now that I can't."

You can't?

He shakes his head after a moment. "Doctor's don't recommend it. Plus, it's kind of too late for that." The wind blows through his hair. "Hey, Tobio?"

Kageyama nods.

"What happened to your throat?"

The wind whispers something, tangling through Kageyama's dark hair, his eyes pale and accompanied with bags. He looks nothing like before. Hinata had seen him every single day in the past few months, but he'd never seen someone when they were dying, and it hurt more than any accident ever could.

"I was a singer," Kageyama's rough voice begins slowly, and much to Hinata's surprise, he smiles. The corners of his lips tug up as he does, soft, pink lips, looking full. He closes his eyes as if remembering a better place, recalling a better past. "And a good one. I performed on more stages than I can count." He closes his eyes and exhales sadly, frowning. "I got diagnosed with laryngeal cancer, and I could talk. But it hurt." He takes in a shuddering breath, bottom lip trembling. "And I don't mean it hurt physically- well, sometimes it does, but that isn't the point. It hurt knowing that every word I spoke could be my last," he whispers. "So I stopped talking." He turns to Hinata.

"And then I met you." There's tears running down his face, something Hinata never thought he'd see on Kageyama's face in his life. "Suddenly it was like- It was like I could sing without my voice. Alive, the same way I was whenever I was on a stage."

Hinata smiles, feeling a tear roll down his own cheek, staring into Kageyama's eyes. "Tobio?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad that I'm alive."

Kageyama smiles again.

The last time Hinata sees Kageyama is on February 17th.

It's late at night. Rain falls down from outside the window while Kageyama sleeps on a hospital bed, the only signs of his life being the heart monitor that beeps slowly every few seconds and his soft exhales. Hinata places his finger under his nose every few minutes just to make sure he's still there, but sits by the hospital bed, silent, hand over his. He doesn't try to wake up his friend, and will never admit how badly he just wants him to wake up, to be here, to talk to Hinata. He's never wished someone would aggressively slam a notebook in his lap more than now.

"Is his family coming?" A voice asks from the doorway, causing Hinata to tiredly snap his head to the side. Nishinoya stands there, hair messy and playing with the sleeves of his hoodie. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, almost as if hesitant to be here, but Hinata smiles.

"No," he says, then sighs. "Kageyama told me they're busy most of the time."

He scoffs. "Assholes."

"What?"

"How could they not be here?" Nishinoya asks with a kind of raw anger Hinata has never heard from him before. He's gotten into plenty of petty fights with Nishinoya before, but that's what they were- petty, funny, laughed off in the end. He approaches the bed angrily, yet almost carefully at the same time, too hesitant. He squeezes his eyes shut as he pulls up a chair and asks a quiet, "he's dying, isn't he?"

Hinata sniffles. "Yeah," he says quietly. The heart monitor continues beeping. Soft and slow, second after second. "I just don't get it."

"Get what?" Nishinoya asks solemnly.

"Where the time went," he whispers, bouncing his leg up and down, foot hitting the ground at every other beep of the heart monitor. "I thought maybe we would both get out of here. And I can't believe I never noticed that he was-" He cuts himself off, taking in a shuddering breath. "What was happening."

"You can't blame yourself for that," a voice says brokenly, and Hinata jumps at the sound of Kageyama's voice. He looks up at the redhead, blinking slowly as if struggling to focus. He looks to Nishinoya and nods in acknowledgment.

Nishinoya stands up before he even has the chance to say anything. "I'll, um- I'll leave you guys alone." He exits out the door, closing it gently behind him.

Hinata feels his vision blur with tears for the umpteenth time that night. "Hey," is all he manages to say. Even after the hundreds of letters he sent to him back and forth, the countless nights spent staying up texting where they exchanged far better conversations and far more complicated words, all he can manage is a simple greeting. One word.

Kageyama looks exhausted as he parts his lips and softly mumbles, "I'm dying."

Hinata blinks, hoping the better his vision is, the easier it'll be to memorize Kageyama's face. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he says quietly. He breaks into a coughing fit, wincing in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, and Hinata almost thinks he's fallen back asleep until he squeezes his hand again.

Hinata takes in a deep breath, heart racing. "Kageyama, can I tell you something?"

He takes a moment to process it before nodding lazily.

"I love you."

Kageyama goes still before confidently replying, "no, you don't."

Hinata feels cold. "Yeah. Yes, I do, Tobio."

"Why would you lie to me?" Kageyama asks, almost angrily, and Hinata hears his heart monitor start beeping just a bit too fast for comfort.

"I'm not lying to you."

"You said you loved me!" Kageyama yells, causing Hinata to flinch. "Why would you tell me that? Why now?" He cries.

"Because it's true, you idiot!" Kageyama stares at him, eyes wide, and Hinata stares back with an expression he guesses is entirely the same. "It's you. It's always been you." He takes a moment to gather his words, feeling lost. "Since the moment I read your letter. When you called me the sun. I knew that I wanted you to be by my side forever," he says, voice cracking.

"Shoyo-" Kageyama chokes. "I didn't- I never..." He stops, clearly out-of-it, and Hinata knows he's losing him, but he holds onto his hand so tightly, as if it'll somehow make him survive. "I think I'm not afraid anymore."

Hinata thinks that's just about the weirdest thing he could choose to say right now, yet it still stabs him a thousand times in the chest somehow.

"Thank you." His voice is so raw, Hinata knows it must be killing him to speak right now, but he doesn't stop him, trying so desperately to commit his voice to memory before it's gone forever. He's never wanted to remember someone so badly in his life. "For giving me my life back."

The hospital room is silent for much shorter than Hinata hopes it will be before the sound of a flatline rings in the air, and Hinata feels Kageyama's grip on his hand soften and soften and soften until he's gone.

"No no no- If you saw it yourself, you would not be saying that," Nishinoya says playfully as he and Hinata enter the house and kick off their sneakers. "It was literally the biggest bee I've ever seen in my life, man."

"Oh my god. You're just a coward, I bet it was the size of my pinky," Hinata teases, hanging up his coat while Nishinoya gently whacks his shoulder and scowls.

"You're not even-!"

"Boys?" The two of them are interrupted when Hinata's mother comes to the front door, holding up a small envelope. Hinata frowns, tilting his head slightly and trying to recall why it looks so familiar. "Shoyo. This was delivered to you by the hospital." She hands it to him and walks away without a further word, while Hinata studies it. There's no writing on it, just a symbol messily drawn in the corner o the envelope. And it takes him a moment, but he realizes-

"Tobio," he mumbles. Nishinoya peeks at it over his shoulder. "Hey, can we- Can we do this tomorrow, or something?"

Nishinoya studies his face. "Shoyo-"

"Please?" Thankfully, Nishinoya nods hesitantly and slips his shoes and coat back on while Hinata rushes up the stairs, clutching the letter against his chest, feeling like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He studies it for far longer than he should, almost terrified to open it and see what it says.

But, hesitantly, he tears the flap of the letter off and pulls out a small piece of paper. A USB drive falls out with it, which he places to the side while he reads the letter.

Shoyo,

Hi. If you're reading this, and the hospital listened to my requests, it's sometime in January and I'm... Gone.

I'm sorry about this. It's almost funny. I have written countless letters to you, but for my final one, I feel lost for words. I have no idea what I should say. There are so many things I wanted to tell you while I was still here, but I was afraid.

I don't know of what, exactly, if I'm being honest. But I was.

Do you remember that one night in December where we went up to the roof? You asked me if I was afraid of death, and I told you I wasn't. When you asked why I didn't have an answer. But I think I have it now.

Because of you. I'm not scared anymore, I can... I can rest peacefully knowing I spent my final months with someone as amazing as you.

I really hope you play volleyball again, Hinata, or do something else you're passionate about. And I need you to know that what you've been through doesn't define you. You are more than your experiences with this shitty world.

You told me about how you wished things were different sometimes, but I don't feel that way. If I could do it all again, all of this, I would not change a single thing. I don't want to meet you in a crowded high school hallway, or a coffee shop, or some volleyball tournament- I want you. This you.

I am glad we crossed paths. I'm eternally grateful for the short time we spent together.

I'm watching over you, always, and wishing for your happiness, sun.

Thank you.

- Raven.

Five years later, Hinata enters a crowded stadium with a guitar slung around him and a light feeling in his chest. He walks up a short flight of stairs to the backstage area and takes a seat, smiling at Nishinoya, who's already sitting on one of the couches. He meets Hinata's eyes and returns his excited smile.

"Hey! You ready?" He asks.

Hinata exhales shakily. "Yeah, I am."

"Hey." Nishinoya places his hands on his shoulders and gives him a stern look. "You've got this. This isn't your first rodeo, alright?" Hinata nods slowly, carefully, trying to quiet his nerves. "You got this, man. I promise you do."

Hinata draws back the small curtain on the side of the stage and steps onto the stage. The lights are dimmed, so dark he can barely see the back of the stadium, but he can see and hear the screams coming from the crowd. He lets himself close his eyes, just for a moment.

Tobio,

It's taken me five years to write back to you, but I finally think I have a response.

If you're reading this right now, I have a few things I need to tell you. First of all, I miss you. Every day, I reread the letters you sent to me, every single one of them, wondering what I could have said or what I couldn't have said. I think about you constantly. I see you everywhere.

God, I don't even know what to say.

I just- sometimes I find myself staring up at my ceiling, thinking of you.

It’s so quiet in my room in those moments. I can only hear the beating of my own heart and the gentle breaths coming out of my nose. No heart monitor, no cars racing outside a hospital window.

Placid, and calm. Sometimes I look at the moon.

And I think of you. And it hurts.

Sometimes, it hurts so much, I can’t breathe, and then I have to spend several minutes just trying to figure out how to do a basic human task. Breathing. Inhale oxygen, exhale carbon dioxide, it’s all bullshit.

He adjusts the grip on his guitar and smiles at the crowd in front of him, people roaring and filling the stadium with noises of excitement, excitement for him, to hear his songs.

I hate it. But I will never hate remembering you. You lit up my soul again. You gave me hope. You made me feel like a star, like a sun, glowing and burning brightly even after my dreams had been crushed and my life was practically over.

The lights on the stage adjust, dimming further, but then suddenly exploding with light. Blinding, flashing, bright, in-his-face but all sorts of beautiful.

Kageyama. I don't know if I believe in soulmates.

Somewhere out there, up above in the sky, he hopes he's watching over this moment. Proud, happy, listening- at peace.

But I believed in you. And that thought used to hurt me a lot. But it doesn't anymore.

He takes in a deep breath-

Thank you, Raven.

-and plays the chord, smiling, truthfully, knowing he is Hinata and Kageyama is with him forever.