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Kageyama had made his fair share of mistakes in the mere twenty years of his life. Many would say that the biggest one he had ever committed would be his former dictatorship in Kitagawa Daiichi, and he couldn’t help but agree. Some nights, when he was walking home alone, he could still feel their hateful gazes on his back; the sour whispers and the word ‘king’ said with more bitterness than anyone thought was achievable.
Most of all, he remembered the disappointment in your sinking gaze as they pushed him off the plank, the anchor of being rejected by his team dragging him into the cold sea that would otherwise be known as bitterness.
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“L/N!” Kindaichi called after you, noticing your disappointed gaze, pressed in the direction of where Kageyama was, slumped on the bench, horror still seeping into the edge of his eyes where shock had receded.
There you were, watching him from across the court where the junior high preliminaries were being held. His head was bowed down, but you didn’t think it was in regret.
“Ah. Sorry.” Walking away from him broke you completely. He had so much potential. He could’ve been the best setter the junior high prelims of that year had ever seen. He would’ve went so far had it not been for his pride and blindness to see what he was putting his teammates through.
He tried to ignore his team’s cheers as they rallied together to boost morale before diving into their next set, one that they hoped to take swiftly, going straight for the kill instead of delaying. He tried to ignore the way you beamed in pride when the second-year setter- What was his name again? Oh, right- Hattori pulled off a setter dump. He hated the bitterness in his heart, the way he cursed his team to oblivion for throwing him to the side like yesterday’s trash.
“Think carefully about what you’ve done, Kageyama.” The coach told him quietly, spotting the way he was glaring at the wooden floor of the stadium. It was a surprise he hadn’t set the floor on fire yet, judging by the intensity of his anger. “None of your teammates are to blame for this decision.”
None of them were to blame?
What a joke.
Kindaichi.
He said the name with more hate than he knew he could muster. The turnip-haired student was the one who suggested subbing in the second-year setter for him, wasn’t he?
Kindaichi.
He directed all his anger towards that one name. He wanted to scream, to yell, to punch someone in the face, but he knew that would only stall his chances of stepping onto the court again.
Kindaichi.
The team cheered as they scored another point, all smiles and grins as the spiker high-fived Hattori. Echoes of ‘nice toss!’ rang from Kitagawa Daiichi’s side of the court. Funny, they never said that to him, he bit back bitterly.
The set was taken in record time. Kitagawa Daiichi swept their opponent off their feet, majority of their attacks going in due to Hattori’s easy-going setting.
“Good job!” He heard you congratulate as you ran onto the court, your team surrounding you as you high-fived and clapped some of them on the back, offering them water and towels as they relished in the joy of victory.
Oh, how he wished he could immerse himself in that joy, too.
But the victory wasn’t his, and it would never be his. Kitagawa Daiichi was no longer his team, but rather your’s, Kindaichi’s, Kunimi’s- But not his.
Not anymore.
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“Why so bitter?”
He glared up hatefully, meeting Kindaichi’s eyes as the teen looked back down at him. They had returned back to school grounds with the promise of returning to the preliminaries the next day. Kageyama had collected his belongings from the locker room, stomping off only to be caught by his yearmates by the school gate.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Kindaichi laughed dryly. “You probably hate me, don’t you? You hate me for being the one that asked coach to take you out.”
He didn’t answer. Who else could it have been?
“It wasn’t Kindaichi.” Kunimi inputed quietly, his eyes cold and ruthless like the sharp edges of an iceberg in a dark night. “Kindaichi was the one who brought it up at the stadium, but it wasn’t his idea. Not entirely.”
You had always been there for him.
From the moment you tried to bond with him as Kitagawa Daiichi’s freshly recruited first-year manager, to his second-year, when you smiled and clapped when he was made the official setter, to the beginning of his third-year, when you tried to make him see sense.
Heck, he was closer to you than the rest of his teammates. He didn’t think he’d ever yelled at you before.
But third-year came, and so did Spring High. Your friendship drifted apart as his dictatorship of Kitagawa Daiichi got worse. His relationships with the rest of his team deteriorated to the point practices became tense and stressful for everyone involved. As the manager of the team, you tried to fix things, but he had been stubborn and refused to listen to you.
Kunimi’s next words shattered his junior high life like it was a fragile wine glass.
“It was L/N’s idea.”
“She planned weekend practices. Early morning practices. Late evening practices.” Kindaichi continued for his friend. “She supervised our practice and helped Hattori improve his serves and sets. She came up with the different types of attacks Hattori would be able to use. She was the one that built up Hattori to be a good setter, so he could take your place if needed.”
A kind smile- Specifically, yours- Drifted into his brain, slammed out of the way by the disappointed frown you wore in the stadium that morning.
“Hattori didn’t want to take your place this morning.” Kunimi added quietly. “He felt like he wouldn’t be able to fit into your shoes. L/N convinced him he could do it.”
Kindaichi and Kunimi surveyed the storm that raged behind the third-year setter’s eyes, deciding that they had said enough. “Don’t bother turning up tomorrow.” Kindaichi told him before the two walked off, the sun setting in the distance.
The next day, Kitagawa Daiichi was defeated in the semi-finals.
But if Kitagawa Daiichi’s victories weren't his, their defeats weren’t his, either.
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[1 year later]
Sweat trickled down his skin like rain down a window pane. His lung surged and fought to oxidise the acid in his blood, but the adrenaline of victory was still fresh, and his eyes were gleaming with joy.
On the other side of the court, Kindaichi breathed just as heavily, having fought back with everything he had. His mind was still reeling from the loss- But more than that was the fact Kageyama actually apologised.
“He’s changed.” Kunimi supplied quietly, joining Kindaichi by the net as Karasuno embraced in a ball of cheers and victory. “He’s not the same.”
“You can say that again.” Kindaichi breathed.
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You were the last person he expected to see.
He had been too caught up with Oikawa joining the game to notice you following after the captain, setting down your first-aid kit as you rushed into the gym. You wore Seijoh’s logo on your back proudly, having gained your acceptance into the team through Kindaichi and Kunimi’s recommendations and persistent insistence. Plus, you had been Kitagawa Daiichi’s manager; most Kitagawa Daiichi volleyball members graduated to join Aoba Johsai and you were no exception.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” He shuffled awkwardly. All his anger at you had dissipated over time, because he had come to terms with the fact that you did what you thought was best for the team. However, that didn’t change the fact that he never rekindled his collapsed friendship with you, nor did it change the truth that he had ignored your advice and ended up exactly where all tyrannical rulers end.
You smiled softly at him, feeling happy despite the defeat your team just suffered. “I’m really glad.”
“... Why?” He blinked back his confusion to tilt his head at you curiously. The tension has dissolved into an odd feeling of familiarity, of days when the two of you were friends.
“You’ve... Changed.” Pride seeped into your expressions as you smiled at him, a gentle laugh escaping your lips. “Maybe one could even say you’re on your way to be a true king. A good one.”
He didn’t know what to say. Speech drained out of him as he stared at you in shock, unsure of how to proceed. “I...”
“L/N!” Kindaichi’s faraway yell startled the two of you. Your two friends- His former ones- Rounded the corner to spot you and Kageyama. “Oh. Hey Kageyama.”
You laughed at how awkward the two of them were acting. Kunimi looked like he’d rather be dealing with Oikawa’s antics, and Kindaichi looked so uncomfortable that it seemed like he was going to attempt to blend in to the wall in an effort to leave the situation. “What is it?”
“Oikawa’s calling for you.” Kindaichi supplied, yelping a little when he made eye-contact with an innocent-looking, confused Kageyama.
“Alright, I’m coming.” You rolled your eyes at the turnip-haired boy, waving a goodbye at Kageyama before you turned on your heels. “I can’t wait to see what kind of setter you become, Kageyama.”
He watched your retreating back, your footfalls echoing in between Kindaichi’s and Kunimi’s, the two boys flanking at your side protectively. A smile traced his lips as he made a mental promise to himself.
He was never going to make you disappointed again.
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