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Shouyou must be dreaming. Or delusional. His grip on his phone tightens as he glares at the screen, as if he’s daring the single line of message to change, dissolving this realm of impossibility he’s currently residing in because this. Is. Not. Happening.
He closes his eyes, then opens it tentatively. The message remains the same. He exits the messaging app, restarts his phone, but no, it’s not a hallucination or a trick. This is actually, 100% real, and Shouyou can’t take it anymore; his lips finally break into an uncontrollable smile and he falls back on his bed, pushing his face on his pillow to smother his squeals and giggles.
He takes another look at his phone, and there’s Kageyama’s reply of ‘yeah, okay,’ to Shouyou’s invitation to a shogatsu festival.
Warmth rises on his already flushed cheeks and he buries himself on his bed once again to squeal some more.
Yeah, he’s probably acting like some school girl in love, but he can’t really refute that, because he is. He is hopelessly, undeniably in love with none other than the bane of his very existence, the person he vowed to crush to a pulp someday, his jerk of a partner and best friend, and all at once, his undignified swooning stops, smile dropping off six feet below the ground, along with his heart, as his chest feels tight, like a barbed wire winds around it.
It’s kind of ironic, really, how something can simultaneously make you feel as if you’re cloud nine high while being subjected into a merciless torture at the same time.
With a sigh, he sits up, wrapping his blanket around himself. It only occurs to him that he has yet to reply to Kageyama, and he types the meet-up details, taking note to add in emojis just to spite him—he can already see Kageyama’s reaction, all grumpy and confused and annoyed, and that makes Shouyou snort—before hitting send.
He places his phone on his headboard and plops sideway back to his bed. Minutes later and his phone chimes again, but he ignores it.
If only ignoring these unwanted feelings he has for Kageyama is just as easy.
Yeah, no, it’s just as hard, because not even a minute passed and he’s already scrambling for his phone, grinning dumbly again at Kageyama’s expected response of ‘Dumbass, the hell is with all these symbols?!’
He’s weak, and he hates it. Stupid Kageyama.
They spend the next couple of minutes exchanging nonsense messages until Kageyama stops responding. He probably got bored or annoyed or a mix of both. It’s always like this: Shouyou is the first to message and the last to send one, and it’s fine, he’s used to it and tries not to take it too personally. He’s probably the only person Kageyama texts, anyway.
Picking up his volleyball, he stalks out of his room to do some lonely passing to kill time before he has to prepare, when a notification sound from his phone startles him.
The world must be ending today, or this is the day Shouyou dies from too much giddiness as he reads—and rereads for an unhealthy amount of time—Kageyama’s late reply. With an emoji.
“Kageyama! Hey, Kageyama-kun! Over here!” Shouyou jumps, which is hard since he’s wearing a pair of geta, as he frantically waves his hands above his head. Kageyama finally spots him, and he gives a nod at Shouyou as he makes his way amidst the throngs of people.
Kageyama stands out like a freaking skyscraper, since he’s a head taller than most of the people in the crowd, but that’s not even the entirety of it. Shouyou feels like he’s watching a scene from those cheesy rom-com movies that his mom and sister likes to watch: jaws dropping open and necks breaking as every eye follows Kageyama as he strides all cool and impassive in his white yukata splashed with stripes of blue that makes great contrast with his dark, raven hair and brings out the color in those midnight-blue eyes, and god, Kageyama looks so—
Stupid. He looks so stupid, because the lanky idiot just tripped on his geta , and it’s probably his athletic sense of balance that prevents him from totally face-planting on the ground.
“Stupid fucking geta and stupid fucking—STOP LAUGHING, DUMBASS!!!” Kageyama roars, face beet red in both embarrassment and anger. Shouyou has never laughed harder in his entire life.
“Oh—my god! K-Kageyama, a-are you al—pfft! I’m sorry! But you looked so s-stupid! Y-You should have seen yourself—!” Shouyou’s sides and lungs are starting to hurt from all the laughter, and he probably just sealed his death sentence because the glare of those steely eyes are murderous.
“I’m going to kill you!” Kageyama growls, and then Shouyou is off, laughing as he snakes around the crowd, Kageyama yelling violent threats behind him. He pumps his legs faster, but the yukata and the geta aren’t exactly the best running gear, and it didn’t take long for Kageyama to catch up to Shouyou.
“Waaaah! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me!” Shouyou shrieks as Kageyama yanks Shouyou back by the collar of his yukata, and he collides with a solid wall that is Kageyama’s chest.
“S-shut—ha—up, dumb—ha—ass—” Kageyama pants, and Shouyou tries not to think too much about Kageyama’s hot breath billowing against his nape. The shivers and goosebumps he can’t control, however, and he should be winded after that run, too, but nope, his lungs have become nonfunctional at this point. He doesn’t even want to describe the multitude of things that are happening to his heart right now.
“U-uhm...Kageyama-san…?”
Kageyama must have realized the compromising position they’re in or he notices all the weird stares and whispers directed at them, and he releases his hold on Shouyou with a shove, none too gently.
Shouyou busies himself with adjusting his yukata, hoping the flush on his cheeks would subside as he does. He takes a little peek at Kageyama (he can’t help it, give him a break, geez), who’s still panting slightly, beads of sweat dotting his face, and he wipes it with the sleeve of his yukata. Shouyou suddenly has this weird comparison of sweaty, heavy-breathing Kageyama in his jersey versus Kageyama in a yukata, and he can’t quite decide which one is better.
That’s probably weird and creepy, but what the heck, it’s not like it’s the first time he has random thoughts about Kageyama’s general good-lookingness. Though Shouyou will admit, there’s a pinch of envy in there, too, because he knows he will never reach that level of effortless beauty; he probably looks stupid and gross with his unruly hair and sweaty face, huffing like a pig trying to catch his breath.
“Oi.”
“Hmmm?”
He’s running a hand through his damp hair, trying (and utterly failing) to tame it, when he faces Kageyama, and other boy is about to go off, as Shouyou has anticipated, but then his mouth opens soundlessly, glaring eyes going wide as he stares at Shouyou. Like a deer caught in headlights.
Then deep blue eyes blink rapidly before they slide away from Shouyou’s face, only for them to trail down, very, very slowly, before dragging up again to meet Shouyou’s eyes. Shouyou might be imagining it or it’s the light from the lanterns, but there’s a hint of pink on Kageyama’s cheeks as he presses his wet lips together, Adam's apple bobbing prominently when he takes a gulp.
Shouyou gulps as well.
“Uhmm...Kageyama?” His voice cracks against the dryness of his throat. Consciousness about his appearance triples, and he squirms at the intensity of that stare, but for some weird reason, he can’t seem to pry his eyes away from those steel blue eyes.
Kageyama is the first to break eye contact, looking off to his side with a frown.
“You look...different,” he mumbles, and Shouyou almost didn’t hear it if it isn’t for his senses that’s highly attuned to Kageyama right now. He stares down at his black yukata; it’s an old thing, but he’s only worn it once before. It’s not particularly fancy or impressive, but he does remember his mother saying it makes his eyes and hair more noticeable, as if his orange hair on its own isn’t a glaring beacon already.
But he’s not quite getting what Kageyama means—he’s wearing a yukata, too, as does the majority of the people around them. Maybe because he’s used to seeing Shouyou in practice clothes and school uniforms?
Eventually, Shouyou just shrugs. “Well, duh.”
Kageyama looks at him with that odd, almost frustrated look on his face before he briskly walks away without preamble.
Weird. And rude.
“Hey! Bakageyama, wait up!” Shouyou shouts as he runs after the other boy.
Surprisingly, Kageyama does stop to wait for Shouyou, but he’s being unusually quiet all of a sudden, staring straight ahead as they walk back to the bustling stands. Once or twice, Shouyou catches Kageyama looking at him in the corner of his eyes, snapping them back in front again with a frown when he sees Shouyou watching.
“What’s your problem?” Shouyou asks, because it’s weird, Kageyama is being weird. More than usual, anyway. “Is there something on my face? Do I look stupid in a yukata?”
Kageyama stops walking then and faces Shouyou, leaning forward until their faces are mere centimeters apart. Shouyou instinctively leans back, and he can feel the heat starting to crawl back on his cheeks at the intense scrutiny.
“No, not stupid,” Kageyama says in that annoying—and definetely not sexy—deep voice. Then he straightens, and nods at the rows of food carts and games. “What do you want to do?”
‘That’s a very dangerous line of questioning,’ Shouyou wants to answer, but he has enough sense to swallow those words down, and, instead, he smiles, and says, “Let’s try some takoyaki first, I haven’t had dinner yet!”
At the mention of food, Kageyama perks up, excitement apparent on his face like the dork he is, and then they’re rushing to get to the first takoyaki stand they see.
Maybe Kageyama’s weirdness was just him being hungry, because after they stuffed themselves with food, he’s pretty much normal after that. He shouts and grinds Shouyou’s head when he’s annoyed (Shouyou’s intentional doing, of course), then gets all smug and cocky like a jerk when he wins over games (“Noooooo! You cheated! One more!” “Stop being a sore loser and accept defeat, dumbass.” “No! One more!”), and all sparkly eyes and wobbly mouth when they see another food stand they’ve yet to take a try at.
Shouyou had no doubt Kageyama would enjoy himself, despite being such a stick in the mud about social gatherings, though it’s mostly just Kageyama being a clueless idiot when it comes to these things. That’s one of the main reasons, actually; he genuinely just wants Kageyama to have a good time, he wants to have this image of smiling, dopey Kageyama be imprinted in his mind, to have this memory be as happy and warm and fuzzy, not only for Kageyama, but for Shouyou, too, so it can cover and overwhelm that vague, yet ever-present ache in his chest, as it throbs and twinges every time he sees the person he’s in love with for who knows how long, smiles so free and warm and beautiful.
And Shouyou feels too unworthy to indulge in this rare vision of rosy cheeks and soft grins, yet he continues his selfishness, capturing every moment, letting that warm feeling seep deep in his bones, relishing it. Because he can’t keep doing this, he can’t continue letting his greed run rampant until it ruins everything they’ve worked hard for, the friendship they built through hard-earned trust and faith, the perfect partnership they’ve sowed and sweat blood to achieve.
It has to stop at some point, not everything has to be carried all the way to the end when it’s becoming too heavy, too crushing. He’s not sure how long he’ll be able to keep it all in tight bounds until it rips everything apart in a chaotic mess he knows he won’t be able to repair.
“Ha! That’s three out of five now, you loser!” Kageyama declares as he slams the toy rifle down with a triumphant sneer. Shouyou just sticks his tongue out and pouts. Why did he have to challenge Kageyama in a shooting game? That’s basically declaring defeat even before they started. He hands his own toy rifle back to the guy manning the shooting game with an annoyed huff.
“Stop sulking. Here,” Kageyama says as he thrusts something in Shouyou’s arms. He’s now holding a red, fluffy teddy bear with glass eyes, button nose, and a stitched smile. It’s kind of cute. He looks at Kageyama with a questioning brow.
“Uhh...why are you giving me this?” he asks.
Kageyama just shrugs. “I just want to.”
“Yeah, but...why?”
Kageyama groans. “If you don’t want it then just give it back! You don’t have to be a little shit about it!”
Shouyou side steps when Kageyama tries to grab the teddy bear.
“Wait, I didn’t say I don’t want it!” He says with a laugh as he hugs the bear tighter. His face must be in the same shade of red as the plush toy, but he beams at Kageyama, nonetheless, his heart threatening to soar right out of his chest.
“Thank you!”
This has to end somehow, but for now, Shouyou lets himself be selfish.
It’s hard to find a convenient spot to view the fireworks, but they eventually found a secluded bench a few meters away from the gathering crowd with a nice, clear view of the sky.
They’re sitting side by side as they munch on their cotton candies. It’s mere minutes before midnight, but it feels as if time is slowing down and stretches into hours, years, decades, and all Shouyou can feel is the staticy feeling of their knees touching what with the bench being so small; Aka-chan, the teddy bear, needs to sit, too.
The silence shatters when Shouyou hears a hushed murmur of:
“Thanks for inviting me.”
Shouyou smiles. He’s afraid of what will come out of his mouth if he looks at Kageyama, so he directs his gaze up at the cloudless, velvet night sky, and he almost laughs because it’s as if he’s looking at Kageyama’s eyes this way.
“No problem,” he says.
It’s quiet again after that, but this one is more comforting. He can hear the faint hustle and chatters of the people, the rhythmic chirping of the crickets, the soft whistling of the breeze as it caresses his face.
It’s perfect.
“Kageyama?”
“Hmm?”
“We’re friends, right?” He swallows the thick, solid lump starting to clog his throat, taking in a quiet but sharp inhale, steeling himself.
“What the hell are you on about?” Kageyama snaps. Shouyou can feel his glare on the side of his face, but he wills himself to remain looking ahead. This is probably a spineless, cowardly move, but that’s fine. He’ll be needing the final dregs of his courage soon enough.
“Aren’t we, Kageyama?” Shouyou insists.
He hears an exasperated sigh. “Of course, we are, idiot. You think I’ll put up with you this whole time if we’re not?”
A streak of tear drops then, as if the pressing heaviness in his chest squeezes it out, but he lets it roll down his cheeks. It’s dark enough where they’re sitting and Kageyama hasn’t noticed. He won’t let him.
So he smiles. “I know.”
Because he needs that confirmation, even if he already knows. He wants to hear it in Kageyama’s voice, wants to hear it loud and clear and true, that what he has with Kageyama is nothing beyond the boundaries of friendship. It’s the plain and hard truth, and he knows. He understands.
But that doesn’t make it any less painful.
As the fireworks explode through the dark sky like fiery flowers blossoming amongst the stars, Shouyou faces Kageyama, watching his expression as his face lights up in vivid colors just as those lips curl up in a small smile, a picture perfect scene of simple happiness.
“I love you.”
The thundering clap of each fireworks that burst above drowns out Shouyou’s voice—he can barely even hear himself. But it’s fine. It’s never in his intention to be heard, as all the other times he’s said it before, even if those past instances are just tiny whispers or longing sighs. Not that it would make a difference with him saying it out loud; Kageyama still didn’t hear him.
And Shouyou decides then, as he looks back up at the sparks of brilliance littering the sky, that this is the perfect opportunity for it to finally come to an end, to leave all these unwanted feelings of both joy and pain with the passing year. He’ll enter the new one with a clean slate, freeing his heart from the burden, and it’ll be hard, he knows it will be, but he—
“Me, too.”
A deep voice cuts through the booming noise as if everything tunes out to an indiscernible hum just for Shouyou to be able to hear it. He whips his head at Kageyama, who’s already staring at him, deep blue eyes that are a hundred times more breathtaking and mesmerizing than the fireworks that blurs into nothing but a mere backdrop.
“Wh-what…?” Shouyou rasps and he can taste salt in his wet lips, then there’s two warm hands cupping his face, gently brushing the tears he didn't even realize are flowing nonstop.
“Dumbass,” Kageyama whispers, but there’s not even a hint of annoyance in them, only swelling affection, and Shouyou must be imagining it, because why...what...how, and then Kageyama gives him the answer to every question that there is and ever will be.
“I love you, too.”
And time and space becomes irrelevant, as the sparks that burst warmth in Shouyou’s chest ignites like a supernova and puts all fireworks into shame when Kageyama pulls him close with a hand that curls on the back of his head to press their lips. It’s hesitant and shy, movements no less clumsy, but it’s intoxicating and heady and Kageyama’s mouth is mind-numbingly sweet from all the cotton candy, and Shouyou pulls back for a moment, because this can’t be real, this can’t possibly be real.
“K-Kageyama…”
But it is, this is real, this is actually happening, as Kageyama leans in again with a tiny, impatient growl, as if he’s been deprived for so long and every push and slide of his lips against Shouyou is demanding, imploring, and Shouyou finally gives in, surrendering himself fully and wholly. His heart that he has so carelessly emptied fills rapidly until it’s overflowing, but this time, he lets it, and none of it spills because Kageyama is there to accept it all, readily, as if he’s waiting for it. As if he’s meant to.
“You suck at this,” Kageyama says when they part, and Shouyou can only huff out a short laugh because his lungs are still struggling to regain proper breathing. Kageyama is not faring all that well, either, despite the smirk on his stupidly handsome face.
“You’re one to talk,” Shouyou says eventually, then he’s the one pushing their lips into a bruising kiss this time. He’s practically straddling Kageyama now, and Kageyama makes that annoyed noise again before he clasps his large hand over Shouyou’s thigh.
With their lips still entangled, Shouyou steadies himself with his arms around Kageyama’s neck as he swings his leg over the other’s lap, Kageyama steadying him. Then those hands instantly find their way on Shouyou’s waist, pulling him closer, holding tightly, desperately, as if Shouyou has any intention of going anywhere except here.
“Kageyama, do you—” Shouyou starts, but the rest of his question is swallowed with another eager push of those soft, moist lips, but then Kageyama pulls away, enough for him to answer:
“Yes, Hinata, yes.”
There’s no room for talking left after that, as Shouyou is fed with kisses after sweet kisses filled with so much promise of the following year, and the next ones after that, the fireworks drumming in the background like an applause.