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After a whole lot of confusion, nerves and hurrying around in circles, the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Club finally arrives at the right metro station. They’re on their way back to the Tokyo Metropolitan stadium for their first official game at Nationals, and several of their members are so excited they could pee - literally.
“When’s the next train?”
“In four minutes.”
“Right then, I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Ah, I’ll go too!” Hinata pipes up.
“I’ll watch your stuff for you,” Yamaguchi offers.
“Thank you!” Hinata shrugs off his childish drawstring gym bag and places it next to the other duffel bags on the bench before jogging after Tanaka.
“Ooh, somebody’s going to miss the train,” Tsukishima teases.
“Shut up!”
Tsukishima smirks and Yamaguchi sighs amiably. It’s far too easy to rile the little volleyball idiot up.
Some of the second-years speak to Yamaguchi while Tsukishima checks the time on his phone. Once they’re on the train it should only take ten minutes to arrive at Kokuritsu-kyogo Station and another ten minutes to walk to where they need to be in the stadium. According to Shimada-san, their assigned court probably won’t be free for another hour or so yet, but the matches are moving faster than usual. Outwardly he doesn’t show it, but Tsukishima can feel his blood thrumming at a quickening pace as well, and he wills himself to stay calm.
The roar of the approaching train fills the station, and Tanaka exits the bathroom just as it’s slowing to a stop.
“C’mon, Hinata!” he calls behind him. He hauls up two huge duffel bags and barrels through the opening carriage doors.
The rest of the team hurries onto the train and shuffles further up the carriage to start stacking their bags out of the way and cramming themselves into seats, chattering all the while, whereas Tsukishima ambles on at a leisurely pace and opts to stay stood near the door. The carriage is pretty full, filled with other people probably heading towards the stadium, and he would prefer to avoid the awkward shuffle off the train later when they finally arrive at their stop.
He hears the telltale ding and the overhead speaker announcing that the doors are about to close. There’s a whoosh, a flash of orange, and at the very last second he sees Hinata bounding in through the doors that click shut behind him.
“Safe!” he proclaims, and turns to smile smugly in Tsukishima’s direction.
“Will you please stop staring at me like simply boarding a train is some cause for celebration?” he deadpans.
The train shudders to a start and Hinata looks around, probably to find Kageyama, or maybe Tanaka and Nishinoya, so they can all babble and make a scene like the excitable idiots they are, but the three prime suspects have migrated all the way to almost the opposite end of the carriage, and there are too many other passengers to squeeze around. If he really tried, the shrimp could probably find an opening small enough, Tsukishima thinks wickedly. But ultimately, Hinata chooses to stay put, wedged between a bunch of strangers and the team’s very put-upon middle blocker. Tsukishima sighs.
“And here I was hoping I would get some peace before the match started.”
“Hah?!” Hinata predictably bristles. As always, his reactions to Tsukishima’s taunts are a great source of entertainment, but he also can’t help but notice some of the nearby passengers glancing their way.
“Quiet, we’re on public transport. There’s such a thing as civility, you know.”
“I really don’t need to hear that from you!” Hinata barks in indignation, and Tsukishima can’t resist a small, amused smile.
“See how well you can behave for ten minutes. When we get to the stadium you can go gwaaah! and uwwahh! to your heart’s content.”
“I’m just so excited!” Hinata bounces up and down on the balls of his feet. “Soon we’ll be playing our first game at Nationals! We’ll be up against real National-level schools! Aren’t you excited, Tsukishima?” His eyes have that sparkle to them when he’s radiating pure, unadulterated joy. It’s an expression that Tsukishima has often pretended not to notice. Like direct sunlight, it’s hard to look at.
“Hmm, I wonder,” Tsukishima drawls.
“You can’t fool me, Tsukishima-kun,” Hinata teases happily, smacking him on the arm, and shrieks when Tsukishima pinches his hand between two fingers. “Ow, ow! That hurts!”
“Ugh, you’re so loud,” Tsukishima complains. The other passengers have gone back to politely pretending to ignore their existence. From an outside perspective he probably looks like a high schooler lumped with the task of babysitting his bratty elementary school student brother. He opens his mouth to tell Hinata as such, gleefully anticipating a characteristic squawk accompanied by an angry flush, when the carriage swerves as the train comes to a turn in the tunnel, and one of the passengers stumbles, knocking into Hinata’s back.
Hinata loses his balance, and without thinking, Tsukishima holds up his arms to steady him. Suddenly, there’s a warm weight bumping against his chest, and he looks down to find a familiar head of orange curls nestled in the front of his jacket. His eyes widen, and he’s mortified to feel his cheeks heating up. Tsukishima briefly renounces his lack of religion to pray to every deity listening that his blush is not obvious to bystanders.
“Oi,” he hisses, darting his eyes around to see if any of their teammates have witnessed this unfortunate event. Luckily, they seem absorbed in conversation, and from that angle they would probably only be able to see the top of Tsukishima’s head through the throng of commuters. Very lucky indeed, as Hinata is completely pressed up against his front, and they’re practically embracing.
A few seconds pass, and as he calms down from the initial panic, he realizes Hinata hasn’t moved from his compromising position, and he's still huddled against the taller boy’s chest. Ordinarily Tsukishima would think he’d have flung himself away from him by now, holding up his fists and weakly asking if he wants a fight. Why hasn’t he done that?
He grabs Hinata by the shoulders and wrenches him away. “Oi, moron –”
Whatever he was going to say, when he's faced with Hinata’s expression, it dies in his throat. He wishes he had his camera, because Hinata right now is quite the picture. The smaller boy’s eyes are wide, and his hands are still bunched in the front of Tsukishima’s jacket where he braced himself to catch his own fall. He worries his bottom lip between his front teeth, and his cheeks are stained with a deep flush, the kind he gets when Shimizu-senpai speaks to him directly. There’s a pregnant pause, and the longer Tsukishima stares down at him, the redder he becomes. He casts his eyes sideways to avoid Tsukishima’s gaze, but he still doesn’t shrink away, or loosen his grip on Tsukishima’s jacket.
Well. That’s interesting.
Tsukishima opens his mouth to say something – what, he has no idea – but Hinata chooses that moment to shake out of his trance. He sucks in a startled breath, eyes wide as saucers, and he attempts to wriggle away from Tsukishima’s vice-like grip on his shoulders.
“Um! Sorry! I’m sorry, Tsu–”
It’s a surprise to both of them when Tsukishima pulls him back into his chest, muffling Hinata’s responsive squeak. They stay like that for a moment, both boys breathing a little shallowly. Tsukishima has never been more thankful for a crowded train carriage. One, for blocking the sight of them from their teammates. Two, even if he doesn’t quite want to admit it to himself, for allowing this lucky accident to occur in the first place.
The train then slows to a stop, the doors slide open, and passengers move to get off. Hinata stumbles again as he’s brushed against several times. As other people on the platform move to get on the train, Tsukishima chooses that moment to shift their positions so that Hinata is between him and the door, his smaller form eclipsed by Tsukishima’s height. He is now concealed from the rest of the carriage. If anyone looked over, all they’d be able to see is the taller boy’s back. Hinata blinks up at him, bewildered, wordlessly seeking an explanation.
“Shut up,” Tsukishima mumbles. Hinata balks, and looks like he’s going to speak, but Tsukishima interrupts by folding him tighter into his chest. “Until our stop,” he murmurs. “We can’t have everyone bumping into you between now and then.”
In response, small hands tighten on the front of his jacket, and Tsukishima tries not to look too pleased.
With serene fascination, he watches the tips of the shorter boy’s ears visibly redden, and he wonders if Hinata can feel just how fast his heart is beating against his chest.
*
“Hey, Tsukki!”
Yamaguchi catches up to him when they exit the underground, and Tsukishima slows his pace to fall into step beside him.
The second the overhead speaker announced they were approaching Kokuritsu-kyogo Station and Tsukishima saw the others stand up to retrieve their bags, he pointedly separated himself from Hinata. As he turned away to pick up his own equipment, he caught a glimpse of the other boy. Hinata’s face had been priceless, effortlessly etching itself into his memory: eyes that had been wide were now heavy-lidded, in a faraway expression that almost looked sleepy, if not for the tell-tale warm glow of his cheeks and blown pupils.
Tsukishima is already making a mental map of the inn from his memory, contemplating the best moment to drag Hinata away from the others and into a quiet corner.
They got separated when everyone had poured out onto the platform. Kageyama immediately seized Hinata by the arm and demanded to know why he was spacing out at a time like this when they needed to be focused for the upcoming game, Hinata seemed to whirr back to life to snap a retort, and they were off, as if the past ten minutes never happened. Tsukishima pretends not to be bitter.
“Tsukki, are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“Were you hot on the train? Your face looks a little warm.”
“Oh… a bit, I guess. I was stood next to one of the heaters.”
“Ah.”
They walk in companionable silence for a few moments. The others are in front of them, loud as always, drawing the attention of other teams and attendees as they make their way to the Metropolitan stadium entrance. Tsukishima lets his gaze drift towards a certain pint-sized redhead, who is gabbling excitedly with Tanaka about one of the flags they can see hanging above the doors. Apparently, it’s a sponsor they both recognize, and it’s a big deal somehow. Tsukishima privately thinks it doesn’t warrant that much enthusiasm, but he can’t say he doesn’t admire the view of Hinata’s shining face.
“I’m sure if you ask nicely, he’ll help warm you up before the game, too.”
Tsukishima stops in his tracks. Horrified, he turns to look at Yamaguchi, who is trying and failing to look innocent. His eyes glimmer as he takes in his normally-stoic best friend’s flustered expression.
“Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone else noticed. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Tsukishima exhales, feeling his shoulders relax.
“…Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Although, I’ve been thinking, I could do with a new pair of volleyball shoes…” he trails off, a sly smile tickling the corner of his lips.
“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”
“Just kidding, Tsukki.”