Archive of Our Own

Shoyo Hinata was like an energetic puppy.

This description came as no surprise. Kageyama had already spent many long weeks with the ginger, and the first thing he'd noticed was Hinata's need for constant movement. If they were sitting down, then a foot was tapping. If they were on their feet, then the shorter boy was drumming his fingers on something.

At first, Kageyama had been convinced that Hinata only did it to annoy him in particular. But then, during a minor blowout of theirs, Hinata screamed,

“You're fidgety, too! Every time you sit down, you start tapping your foot! It's so annoying!”

After that encounter, Kageyama paid a little more attention to his own mannerisms. And yes, he did tap his foot – just like Hinata had said.

Since when did he pay more attention to Hinata than himself?

While the idea of knowing the excitable ginger to such a detailed extent was a little odd, it wasn't Kageyama's primary concern. He was more irritated by the fact that his focus had been pulled so entirely from himself. Being on a real team had helped him grow by leaps and bounds, and Kageyama was glad for it. But setters still needed to be aware of themselves. Just how much attention did he devote to Hinata?

So, with a nagging worry in his mind and an electric feeling in his fingertips, Kageyama started to pay attention to everything.

The first thing he noticed was that everyone watched him. In middle school, Kageyama had been so invested in his set that he'd never once cast a look around. That had cost him dearly. Even throughout his high school career thus far, Kageyama hadn't been able to shake his tunnel vision. But as soon as he expanded his view, an incredible array of possibilities bloomed before him.

——————

“I've got it!”

“Left side!”

Tanaka and Hinata both raced for the net, legs pumping and hands straining for where the ball would be. Both were clear choices, either for power or speed. Kageyama reached up for the ball, already charting a course that would shoot it over Hinata's head and allow Tanaka a powerful spike.

Movement flickered in the corner of his eye.

Confused, Kageyama cast a glance to his right. It was for no more than a second, and he barely had time to gauge distance. But as soon as he shifted his focus, he found Asahi staring at him, poised to run.

A perfect shot.

Kageyama balanced himself, then launched the ball directly into Asahi's path. The huge ace let out a triumphant roar as he drove the ball right between Suga and Noya.

On the other side of the court, Tanaka and Hinata let out identical shouts. They raced to Asahi's side and basically crashed into the taller boy, already crowing about something or other. Kageyama stayed by the net. He was content to let the flushed ace accept the praise for that beautiful spike.

God, Asahi had come out of nowhere. Under most circumstances, Kageyama wouldn't have even noticed him.

Kageyama looked up at the net, calculating all the different sets that he could have made. How often did he ignore opportunities like Asahi in favor of what had already been lined up? Kageyama wouldn't call himself rigid, but he did get set in his ways. Maybe there were more plays like that than he realized. Maybe...

“Storm cloud! Get over here!”

Kageyama snapped out of his head and found Coach Ukai staring at him from the sidelines, one thin eyebrow raised. “Sorry, Coach!” Kageyama shouted, shaking himself out of his daze and racing across the court.

“What was that move, huh?” Ukai asked as soon as Kageyama joined him. “I thought you were gonna give that ball to Tanaka.”

Ukai didn't sound judgmental, exactly. Still, there was a gleam in the coach's eye that made Kageyama hesitate. “I was going to send it to Tanaka,” he admitted eventually. Ukai's eyebrow climbed into his hairline, and Kageyama repressed the defensiveness that sprung to life in his mind. “But then, I saw Asahi and decided that he was the better choice. No one was guarding him. No one even saw him.”

For a moment, Ukai just stared at him. Then the barest hint of a pleased smirk touched the coach's face. “Good,” he chuckled. “That's good, kid. Keep an eye out for more stuff like that. Use whatever openings you see, alright? You'll learn what works and what doesn't.”

Kageyama nodded tightly. Ukai waved a dismissive hand, so Kageyama turned and raced back onto the court. As he went, he examined his teammates, who were all scattered across the court. None of them were currently looking at him. But when Kageyama had widened his focus, he'd known that Asahi was waiting for a chance to strike.

Maybe Hinata wasn't the only one who itched for an opening.

And, as it turned out, Kageyama's hunch was correct. His team ended up winning by several points, all of which had been earned with the same unorthodox method. Even more surprising, it was easy. Easier than usual, even. His teammates flowed like water across the court, adjusting to any and all situations. All Kageyama had to do was make one adjustment of his own, and the points basically fell at his feet.

It was a strange feeling. “King of the Court” still hung over Kageyama's head, weighing him down even at the peak of his game. And yet... his sets worked.

He worked.

“Kageyama!”

For the second time in as many hours, Kageyama snapped out of his head. He immediately spotted Hinata rushing towards him, a brilliant smile splitting the ginger's face.

“That was awesome!” Hinata gushed, barely managing to skid to a stop. “We've never scored so many points against Daichi and Tsukishima before!”

Something like pride touched Kageyama's heart. “I guess not,” he muttered.

“Guess not?!” Hinata grabbed Kageyama by the shoulders and shook him roughly. “I'm telling you that that's what happened! Tanaka was like, wham! Then you sent it to Asahi, and he was like, boom! And you sent it to the back row, and Asahi got it, and Daichi was like, 'no way!'”

Kageyama grabbed Hinata's wrists and ripped the ginger off of him. He snarled, preparing to tear into the annoying little decoy for shaking him like that right after practice.

Then he stopped.

Hinata was glowing. Kageyama had seen him happy before (as that seemed to be the ginger's constant state), but this was different. Hinata wasn't fawning over Noya or talking to Tanaka or even celebrating a point he'd made. He was talking to Kageyama. And he was impressed.

The acidic words died on Kageyama's tongue. A strange ball of emotion suddenly weighed heavy in his chest, and he hurriedly released Hinata from his iron grip, striding past the shorter boy.

“Hey, where are you going? Kageyama? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine!” Kageyama snapped. This time, habit won over, and he shot Hinata a murderous look. “Would you stop pestering me? I'm tired!”

As soon as the words were out, guilt replaced Kageyama's momentary frustration. For a split second, he even worried that he'd hurt Hinata with his outburst (which was... a first for him). But the ginger's grin never wavered.

“You're not tired,” Hinata laughed.

Kageyama wanted to ask how the hell Hinata could tell. But that question only made the uncomfortable ball of emotion in his chest feel heavier, so Kageyama settled for giving Hinata a quiet “tch.” He crouched next to his bag, and Hinata immediately bounced over to him, hovering around like a giant, red-headed puppy.

And really, he couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed.

——————

Kageyama's second observation was that Daichi and Suga were a force to be reckoned with. On the court, both were solid players, and their combined energy and familiarity created devastating power. But the real danger was in how well they communicated, both on and off the court.

——————

It was a sweltering hot day. Kageyama stood outside the gym, huddled in the shade of the only nearby tree. Hinata sat at his feet, knees tucked against his chest.

“Can't you give me more room?” the ginger whined. “I'm dying!”

Kageyama scowled. “If you'd just stand up, you wouldn't be in the sun,” he snapped, kicking at the shorter boy's arm. It was with no real force, though, and Hinata dodged the blow with only an affronted noise. “If anything, you're taking up more of my space. I'm just as hot as you are.”

“I ran more today!” Hinata retorted. The ginger stood shakily, and Kageyama watched, amused, as Hinata held out a dramatic and accusatory finger. “All you've been doing is serving!”

“And?” Kageyama bit back. “That still takes effort!”

“Not as much as running does!”

“Don't tell me you're tired?”

“N-no, of course not!”

Just as Kageyama was considering whacking Hinata over the head and letting that be the end of it, a calmer voice drifted through the air. He froze. Hinata opened his mouth, but Kageyama slapped a hand over the shorter boy's mouth, pressing a finger to his own lips. Shhh.

“-just think that Tsukishima would do better if we adjusted the lineup. He's a solid player, but he doesn't like relying on Kageyama so much.”

“Moving him wouldn't help, Suga. Tsukishima has to get used to Kageyama's sets. Kageyama shouldn't have to change completely to his liking.”

“I know. At least they're both improving. Kageyama is trying to work with what Tsukishima wants, and Tsukishima is... trying. A little bit.”

Kageyama suddenly regretted eavesdropping on the conversation, as it was quickly taking a personal turn that he really didn't want to hear. But Hinata's eyes gleamed, and if Kageyama dragged them both away now, the ginger would never let him live it down. So he reluctantly drew his hand away from Hinata's mouth, then poked his head around the tree.

Daichi and Suga stood across the dirt field, sheltered by the main building's overhang. The two third-years faced away, but Kageyama could still clearly see Suga waving his hands around as he spoke.

“Kageyama? What are they talking about?”

Hinata shoved himself out of the tree's shade, which also sent Kageyama stumbling. A caustic comment boiled on his tongue, but he bit it back, settling behind Hinata with only a low growl as a warning. The ginger seemingly ignored him.

“They're doing well for a bunch of knuckleheads,” Daichi said warmly, and Suga laughed. “Especially Hinata. The kid does a good job adapting to all the changes we throw at him.”

The ginger in question made a noise like a strangled bird. Panic spiked through Kageyama's mind, and he clamped a hand over his companion's mouth yet again. Hinata struggled, but the shorter boy couldn't gain any leverage and eventually gave up. Not for the first time, Kageyama thanked his lucky stars for being taller.

“All the first-years have been doing well,” Suga added lightly. “We don't give Tadashi enough credit. He's been working really hard ever since we played Aoba Johsai. Did you notice that he's been running extra laps?”

Daichi was silent for a moment, head tipped to the side. “Really?” the captain murmured eventually. “No, I didn't. How do you know?”

“He beat his best track time this morning. Coach was busy with Yashi and Kiyoko, so it went completely unnoticed by everyone else. But he was really proud of himself.”

“Hmm. I'll have to congratulate him on that.”

“I already did. But it's always nice to get praise from the captain himself.”

Daichi drove a teasing elbow into Suga's side, and the gray-haired boy laughed. Again, Kageyama felt a twinge of discomfort at listening to such a private and friendly conversation. He tried to inch backward, but his shorter captive immediately strained against his hold. Kageyama gritted his teeth. Alright, it looked like he couldn't move yet.

“Oh, Daichi.” Suga hesitated for just a moment. “What are you going to do about Hinata? He did it again today.”

Hinata went unnaturally still. Nervousness suddenly threaded through Kageyama's mind, and he struggled to keep the limp ginger on his feet while maintaining steady breaths. Did Daichi and Suga have a problem with Hinata? Surely they would have mentioned it by now.

“I know,” Daichi sighed. The captain tipped his gaze up to the sky. “It's not his fault. We're the ones who trained him to follow Kageyama so closely, and he's still finding his style. He'll grow out of it.”

Kageyama frowned. What on earth did he have to do with... whatever the issue was?

Suga patted Daichi's shoulder. “It wasn't too bad,” the third-year soothed. “It was only a couple of times. Like, that one rally when he didn't block your spike. I wouldn't worry about it.”

A faint smile touched Daichi's face, and the two turned their heads together, falling into a quieter conversation. Kageyama didn't move, nor did he release his squirming prisoner. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Daichi and Suga both laughed and left the overhang. “You know best,” drifted over Suga's shoulder before both third-years entered the gym and disappeared. Kageyama waited for two whole seconds. Then he released his hold.

“Finally!” Hinata wailed. He clutched at his neck with fluttering fingers. “I couldn't breathe! I thought you were trying to kill me!”

“You were fine,” Kageyama snapped. “My hand was over your mouth. I wasn't even touching your disgusting, sweaty neck!”

Hinata made an offended noise, seemingly bothered by his neck being described as “disgusting,” then turned and snatched his bottle from the ground. On another day, Kageyama might have fanned the flames of their little spat. But now, he stood silently, thoughts pinging around his head like a rogue pinball.

He hadn't noticed Hinata's gaze on him at all. Kageyama was far from the most observant one on their team, but even he could tell when someone had locked onto him. He and Hinata had been on opposite teams for their practice match, and Kageyama had barely paid the ginger an extra glance. He'd assumed the feeling was mutual.

But, apparently, that wasn't the case.

Even thinking back on it, Kageyama couldn't think of a single instance when Hinata had guarded him specifically. Daichi and Suga had clearly seen something that he couldn't.

Kageyama glanced at Hinata, who had settled himself on the ground once again. “Stop focusing on me when we're on different teams,” he ordered, kicking at the ginger's leg. Just like the first time, Hinata batted him away. “You're supposed to pay attention to your teammates.”

“I do!” Hinata protested. “I don't know what Daichi and Suga were talking about!”

A crooked grin crept over Kageyama's face before he could stop it. “Why don't you go and ask them?”

Hinata's only response was a hard smack to the shin. Kageyama aimed a third half-hearted kick at his shorter teammate, then settled back against the tree. Coach Ukai would call them back into the gym soon enough, and Kageyama wanted every moment of fresh air he could get.

Still, Daichi and Suga's conversation echoed in his head for the rest of the day. Every single match that Kageyama played, he kept his eye on Hinata.

He couldn't figure out what the captain had seen.

——————

The third observation was that Yachi really wasn't so bad. Kageyama had been indifferent to the new manager initially, but he soon found her to be much more colorful and interesting than expected. (And, Kiyoko was much kinder than he'd realized.)

——————

Kageyama collapsed against the gym wall, groaning in relief as his aching legs were finally given a chance to rest. Thank god that Coach Ukai had finally taken pity on them... or least on Kageyama. The rest of the team was still running laps around the gym – punishment for a particularly “pathetic run,” as Coach Ukai had called it.

Why Ukai had given Kageyama a break, he didn't know. But he wasn't about to complain.

Kageyama squeezed the last drops of water out of his bottle, then let his eyes flutter shut. Practice was only halfway through, and he was already weary to the bone. An extra-large dinner might be in order... did he have rice at home?

“Kageyama.”

It took all of his self-control not to sigh. Talking was the last thing Kageyama wanted to do at the current moment, but he reluctantly peeled his eyes open and peered up at the unwanted intrusion. Kiyoko looked down at him.

“Hey, Kiyoko,” Kageyama wheezed. He winced at how ragged his voice was and clambered back to his feet. “Sorry. Do you need something?”

Concern flickered in Kiyoko's eyes before she spoke. “Yes. Yachi and I are-”

“I'm here!”

The shout burst through the gym door like a physical blow. Then Yachi charged out of the main building. She reached the gym a moment later and stumbled to a stop, hands on her knees as she gulped in oxygen. Kageyama almost smiled. Well, Yachi certainly didn't lack enthusiasm. He could respect that.

“I'm so sorry, Kiyoko!” Yachi gasped after several seconds of panting. “I got held up in class since Ms. Tamiyo wanted me to tutor this really annoying guy, and then-” Yachi's gaze suddenly landed on Kageyama, and she let out a terrified yelp. “U-uh, hi! I didn't see you!”

Kageyama blinked. Was he supposed to apologize, too? Or was it a one-sided thing? God, he didn't know how to interact with Yachi. She seemed simultaneously terrified and awestruck in his presence. While Kageyama was perfectly capable of holding short conversations, he didn't know to break through Yachi's nervousness.

Thankfully, Kiyoko chose that moment to step back into the conversation. “I want Yachi to meet every member of the team, and Coach Ukai said that you guys would be taking a break soon. Where's your better half?”

A strange look crossed Yachi's face, but Kageyama ignored it for the time being. “I think Hinata's outside,” he said, waving a hand in the vague direction of the absent ginger. “Takeda needed help carrying some boxes or something.”

Kiyoko's shoulders rose and fell in a silent sigh. “Thank you,” she muttered. “I'll go get him. Stay here and talk to Yachi.”

Before Kageyama could protest that Yachi was one conversation away from passing out, Kiyoko strode out of the gym. Kageyama stuffed down a frustrated huff, then turned to Yachi.

As expected, the blonde girl trembled like a blade of grass in the wind. She stared at him with wide, brown eyes, and her hands were clenched in shaking fists.

Nothing for it.

“You don't have to be scared of us,” Kageyama said flatly. Yachi flinched as if struck, and he realized that he would have to be more delicate. He took a deep, calming breath, then continued, “We're not going to hurt you. I know Asahi's big, but he's... he's like a human marshmallow.”

A crimson blush spread across Yachi's face. “Sorry!” she squeaked, squeezing her arms to her sides. “I know! Everyone has been really nice to me, and Daichi was super understanding when I talked to him this morning. It's just...” Yachi trailed off with an embarrassed noise. “Look, you're scary! I don't mean to offend you, but it's true!”

Kageyama wanted to be offended. Really, he did. But he wasn't a complete idiot. He knew what vibes he gave off, and Hinata had even called him a “big, scary wolf” on a few occasions. It wasn't surprising that this abnormally timid girl was terrified of him.

“I don't hate you, okay?” Kageyama sighed. “I know I'm not as friendly as Hinata or whatever, but I'm just another person.”

Yachi's shoulders relaxed at the mention of the ginger, and relief touched Kageyama's mind. Good.

His relief was immediately followed by something cold and ugly. Yachi and Hinata had really hit it off fast, hadn't they?

Kageyama waved the feeling away as soon as it arrived. Of course, they had. The two were similar enough to be brother and sister, even though they looked completely different.

“Hinata really helped me settle in,” Yachi admitted. Her voice has lost some of its previous tremble. “He's so friendly. It seems like he's never met a person he doesn't like!” Yachi shot Kageyama a curious look, and he flinched at the sudden intelligence burning in the blonde's eyes. “I was a little surprised that he's so close to you, actually. You two are so different.”

“We're not close,” Kageyama blurted. The blatant embarrassment in his voice sent coils of anxiety spiraling through his stomach, and he quickly added, “He's a pain in my ass, but Daichi and Coach Ukai like to pair us up.”

Yachi tipped her head to the side. “Didn't Kiyoko just say that Hinata is your better half?”

Kageyama scowled, though it wasn't ego that fueled his reaction, and he knew it. “He's not,” he grit out, ignoring the maelstrom whirling in his head. “Hinata is one of the best spikers on our team, and he's the only one who can hit some of my sets, so we have to work together a lot. That's it.”

“Oh."

A strange silence fell over them. Tension corded through Kageyama's arms and legs like an after-workout burn, and bursts of nervous energy shot through his nervous system. God, he just wanted to leave this awkward situation and get back to playing volleyball. The rest of the team had to be done by now, right?

Just as Kageyama was considering simply walking away, Yachi thrust out a hand.

“I'm sorry for bringing up Hinata,” she mumbled. She kept her gaze averted, staring at a point on the floor. “I shouldn't use him as a crutch when I'm talking to you. Uh, I never really introduced myself. I'm Yachi. It- it's nice to meet you.”

For a long moment, Kageyama could only stare at the peace offering. Finally, he looked back up at Yachi. The blonde girl still refused to meet his eye, but...

Maybe she did have potential.

“I'm Kageyama,” he said, shaking Yachi's hand. The blonde's gaze snapped up from the floor, and Kageyama inclined his head slightly. “You made that poster for the fundraiser all by yourself, right? How'd you do that?”

Like a switch being flipped, Yachi's demeanor did a complete 180. “Oh, my mom works in business and advertising!” she chirped. Her hands flapped around as she talked, and her eyes gleamed with excitement. “She's been teaching me how to do graphic design ever since I was a kid! After working on posters and stuff for so long, I got interested in the programs I was using! So I've been learning how to code this year, too!”

Kageyama raised an eyebrow. “You know how to code?” he repeated, a little impressed.

Yachi flushed dark red. “U-uh, I mean, I'm not very good at it, and I-”

“I don't really know anything about coding,” Kageyama interrupted stiffly. He felt painfully awkward in the face of such a foreign subject, but something about Yachi's enthusiasm was infectious. And... it was good to see her looking comfortable. After all, the volleyball team had given Kageyama a home he'd never expected to have. It was only fair that Yachi had the same experience.

So Kageyama stubbornly shoved down his embarrassment at feeling stupid and asked, “How does coding work? Like... where does it start?”

Yachi stared at him. Kageyama squirmed under her intense gaze, but he refused to shy away or back off. It was about time for him to learn to hold long conversations – especially since this girl might be his manager once Kiyoko left.

Then Yachi exploded once again, and it was like she'd never stopped talking. “It starts with the computer itself!” she gushed. “No, wait, that doesn't make sense. Okay, so it starts with a program!”

For the next fifteen minutes, Kageyama listened intently to Yachi's crash course in coding. He didn't understand half of what she said, but the enthusiasm lighting up her face made up for her complete and utter lack of teaching skills. When someone tapped his shoulder, Kageyama was a little disappointed by the intrusion.

His disappointment evaporated when his brain registered what he was looking at.

“I found Hinata,” Kiyoko announced dryly. She clutched the back of the ginger's shirt with her right hand. Hinata looked like he'd been dragged through hell and back, his hair a mess and sweat dripping down his temples in torrents. Kageyama couldn't decide if he wanted to frown or snicker. “Turns out that he and Takeda got lost. Yachi, we'll talk to Hinata once he's not dying."

Yachi gaped at the ginger. “Okay,” she said faintly. “Is he alive?”

Kiyoko glanced at Kageyama, then shoved Hinata at him. Kageyama quickly caught the exhausted ginger, but he still opened his mouth to protest being assigned as Hinata's caretaker. Kiyoko's glare silenced him.

“He'll be fine,” the taller manager decided. “Make sure he stays hydrated, Kageyama. Coach Ukai said that you two are going to be working on spikes today.”

“I will,” Kageyama promised, and he shot a glance at the boy crumpled in his arms. Hinata hadn't said a word since his impromptu arrival. That was... worrying. “I'll talk to you later, Yachi,” Kageyama said, nodding to the blonde girl before turning to Kiyoko. “Thanks for bringing him back in one piece.”

The taller girl's lips twitched in a smile. “Not a problem.”

Hinata let out a pathetic groan, so Kageyama decided to take his leave before the ginger emptied the contents of his stomach. He hauled Hinata further into the gym, then settled both of them against the gym's wall and dug a fresh towel out of his bag.

It took almost five minutes of fanning and squirting water into Hinata's mouth before the ginger revived. Finally, to Kageyama's relief, Hinata's eyes fluttered open.

“Were you talking to Yachi?” the shorter boy slurred.

Kageyama frowned, thrown by the odd question. “She's not here right now,” he said slowly. “Did you hit your head or something, dumbass?”

The haze in Hinata's eyes cleared, and he propped himself onto his elbows. “No, not right now,” the ginger said, fixing Kageyama with a surprisingly intense gaze. “When Kiyoko and I walked up. I heard you guys talking.”

Something in Hinata's stare made him feel uncomfortably nervous.

“Yeah, we were talking,” Kageyama muttered. “Why does it matter?”

In a split second, Hinata's stare morphed into an eager grin. But it was laced with frailty that Kageyama couldn't explain. “So you like her!”

Kageyama's brain struggled to process the conversation he was having. The answer was no; he didn't like Yachi – not in the way that Hinata was implying, anyway. But there was no way for him to say that that didn't sound defensive or stupid.

Finally, he offered, “Yeah, I guess. She'll be a good manager once she learns more about the game.”

Hinata's grin widened, and this time, it seemed genuine. “I like her, too! I was really hoping that you'd warm up to her since it kinda seemed like you hated her at first.”

This was more familiar territory. Kageyama snorted and settled himself against the wall next to Hinata. “I don't hate her,” he said archly. “I never did. She was just so skitterish that I didn't know how to talk to her. But I guess she's just like you.”

Confusion flashed through Hinata's caramel eyes. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“You're so bright. When you start talking about something you're passionate about, you just... light up.”

Silence hung between them. Slowly, painfully slowly, Kageyama's brain caught up to the words that had tumbled out of his mind. Heat blazed across his cheeks like wildfire. Kageyama shot to his feet, almost tripping in the process, and hurried away from Hinata before he could make even more of a fool of himself. He steadfastly avoided the questions thrown at his back.

Hours later, Kageyama still kept his head down. However, as he cast one more look around the gym just to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he caught Yachi's eye. The blonde waved enthusiastically at him. After a moment, Kageyama inclined his head a little and raised a hand.

Yeah. Yachi had potential.

——————

The fourth and final observation was perhaps the most worrying. It was simple: Kageyama cared about Shoyo Hinata (the stupid, impulsive carrot top) way too much.

——————

As soon as Hinata entered the gym, Kageyama knew something was wrong. Regardless of the weather or how tired he was, Hinata always started each practice with an infuriatingly enthusiastic “hey, guys!” Kageyama had even witnessed Hinata greet an empty gym before abashedly walking out and giving him an embarrassed wave.

But now, the ginger's head was down, and he dropped his bag next to Kageyama's without a word.

Kageyama paused in serving. “Hey, Hinata,” he called, more out of habit than anything else.

“Mmm.”

The single noise sent alarm bells wailing in Kageyama's head. He frowned, tucking his ball under his arm.

Hinata had stripped out of his jacket and collapsed against the wall. Now, the ginger was untying his shoes like he had nothing to do and nowhere to be. It was so out of character.

“Hinata,” Kageyama tried again. The ginger said nothing. He scowled and launched his ball at the shorter boy's head with an annoyed, “I'm talking to you, moron.”

What Kageyama expected to happen was that Hinata would snap to attention, catch the ball, and shoot him a dirty look accompanied by some kind of insult. What actually happened was that the ball hit Hinata directly in the cheek and sent him sprawling.

Kageyama's heart leaped into his throat, and he took off across the court. “Hinata!” he shouted, worry clawing at his chest. Kageyama skidded to his knees just as the ginger began to groggily sit up. He heaved a silent sigh of relief. “Are you okay?” Kageyama asked. He immediately flinched at how concerned he sounded and added, “You have to catch with your hands, you know."

“Sorry,” Hinata mumbled. He rubbed his eyes a few times, then gave Kageyama a bleary smile. “I'll catch it next time.”

Kageyama blinked. The power of speech abandoned him, and all he could do was stare down at this apathetic ginger who was such a far cry from the ball of energy he had to deal with day in and day out. For as much as Kageyama complained, he relied on Hinata's constant spirit. They were the grindstones that kept each other sharp.

“What's wrong with you?” Kageyama asked. Again, the simple sentence came out much more concerned than he meant. But this time, he didn't really care. “You're all... deflated.”

Hinata flinched, and a wall crashed down behind his eyes. “Deflated?” he repeated, a pitch higher than usual. “No, I'm not! Y-you're seeing things, Kageyama!”

The ginger turned away with something akin to an indignant huff, but the light in his eyes wasn't the same. It wasn't teasing and full of indomitable life. It was just... an act.

Kageyama cast a look around the gym. He and Hinata were the only ones there. The rest of their team was god knew where, and Coach Ukai was seemingly running late. There was no one to help Kageyama with this problem.

No, not “this problem.” There was no one to help him with Hinata.

He wasn't good with words. He was even worse at opening up to people, as the rest of the team so loved to point out. But damn it all, Hinata's blank gaze and limp movements made Kageyama more worried than he'd ever thought possible. So, without any other tools at his disposal, Kageyama squatted next to his shorter teammate and looked him over.

Hinata's shoulders were hunched. The ginger seemed to be hiding in his jacket, using it to deflect everything the world threw at him. Scratches and bruises decorated his palms and face (which he always had from throwing himself on the ground), but they were deeper than usual. And Hinata's caramel eyes were... dull.

It was wrong. It was all so wrong.

Kageyama's body moved without his permission, and before he could even form a plan, he found himself sitting next to Hinata, shoulder to shoulder. The shorter boy cast him a curious look. While the reaction gave Kageyama hope (as it was the most energy Hinata had shown since walking in), it also filled his throat with putty.

What was he supposed to say in a situation like this?

“What are you doing?”

Kageyama clenched his jaw. He had Hinata's attention now, and a faint gleam of life sparkled in the ginger's eyes.

Here goes nothing.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Kageyama said shortly. He tore his gaze from Hinata's and stared at the opposite wall, pressing down the unruly nerves in his stomach. “You're being so... quiet. It's freaking me out.”

Hinata said nothing. Belatedly, Kageyama realized that he had expressed none of the concern he felt... which was both good and bad, depending on how he thought about it. For a long, painful moment, the two of them just sat there. Finally, Hinata broke the silence.

“My aunt dropped by last night."

Kageyama frowned a little. He wanted to ask what that had to do with anything, but one look at Hinata's pale face convinced him to stay quiet.

“She's always been my favorite,” the ginger continued quietly, a small smile touching his face. “The cool one, you know? Always messing around and giving me presents. She even snuck me out of the house one time! But...”

Hinata's shoulders hunched even further. Kageyama kept his mouth shut.

“Last night, she had a little too much to drink. When I told her about this club, she...” Hinata's knuckles turned white from how tightly he clutched his jacket. Kageyama fought the urge to unwrap the shorter boy's hands from the fabric. “She told me I was wasting my time. She wasn't even being mean about it. She just thought that I'm not good enough at volleyball to get anywhere.”

Anger flooded Kageyama's chest like a dam being broken. His first instinct was to hunt down Hinata's aunt and give her a piece of his mind. His second was to slap himself for the first instinct, and his third was:

“I thought you were determined to be the best,” Kageyama said slowly. “No matter what anyone says.”

The haunted look fled from Hinata's eyes like storm clouds being chased away by the sun. “I am going to be the best!” the ginger snapped. “And I'm going to stay on the court longer than you! It's just... she was my favorite aunt, man. And she's got a point. I'm putting all of my time into volleyball, and don't get me wrong, I love every second! But... it doesn't really help me. My grades are terrible. College is gonna be-”

A laugh bubbled out before Kageyama could stop it. Hinata's face screwed into a ridiculous pout, and Kageyama broke down laughing. He desperately tried to regain his composure, but Hinata's offended, “What? What's wrong with my face?” only made it worse.

Finally, Kageyama managed to quell his hysterics. “College?” he repeated incredulously. “Since when do you give a damn about college?”

“I always have!” Hinata barked.

Kageyama rolled his eyes. “Sure. Look, you're not wasting your time. You know as well as I do that volleyball is basically your lifeblood. Hell, Daichi, Suga, and Asahi – they stayed for this sport. Who cares about your grades? Your talent could get you a scholarship.”

For about three silent seconds, Kageyama and Hinata simply stared at each other. Then Kageyama processed the little speech he'd just delivered, and suddenly, fleeing the gym seemed very appealing. Unfortunately, his pride wouldn't let him run. So Kageyama settled for muttering,

“I mean, as long as I'm around. You're screwed if we go to different colleges.”

A tiny smile lifted the corners of Hinata's mouth. It wasn't much, and it was nothing like the ginger's usual beaming grin. But it was enough.

“I mean, maybe we'll go to the same one,” Hinata mused.

“Fat chance. You can't keep up with me.”

“Hey! My grades are better than yours!”

Kageyama scowled and shoved Hinata roughly. The ginger toppled over with a squawk of protest, but a second later, he was back on his knees, reaching for Kageyama's shirt. Through the haze of annoyance that always seemed to follow interacting with Hinata, Kageyama felt his shoulders relax.

Things were back to normal.

Even Daichi's roar and ensuing lecture at finding the two of them scuffling weren't enough to dim Kageyama's relief.

Only days later did Kageyama find out (by eavesdropping on Suga and Daichi) that Hinata had done some midnight practicing the night of his aunt's visit. Even after being smacked around by someone he cared about, the ginger hadn't lost his passion and drive.

After learning that, Kageyama made a silent promise to himself. So long as he was around, no one would ever crush Hinata to where he wouldn't get up again.

——————

What had started out as a simple experiment concluded with Kageyama possessing more knowledge of himself and his team than he'd ever dreamed. At first, he didn't even realize how much he'd learned. The complete puzzle only fell together a few days after making his vow.

——————

“Kageyama!”

Kageyama looked up instinctively at the call, and he glanced over his shoulder curiously. Hinata charged towards him, a wide grin splitting his face. A matching smile immediately tugged at Kageyama's lips. But as soon as Hinata skidded to a stop next to him, Kageyama pushed the smile away and snapped,

“Could you have taken any longer? I could have walked there and back by now.”

Hinata glared at him, but it was amusement, not venom, that swirled in the ginger's caramel eyes. “I bet you can't even run right now,” he muttered. “You seemed so tired when practice was over.”

Annoyance carved out a little piece of Kageyama's self-control. “You think I'm tired, dumbass?” he asked lowly. Hinata's eyes flashed, and just like that, Kageyama's self-control disappeared into the night sky. He took off down the street. Hinata's indignant howl trailed behind him like a cape of victory.

It only took a few seconds for Hinata to catch up, and the two of them flew down the hill towards Sakanoshita Store. Kageyama's legs burned, but he didn't slow down in the slightest. Not when Hinata's eyes glowed in the dark, radioactive and electric with the thrill of competition.

Of course, Kageyama regretted this impromptu race as soon as they reached Sakanoshita Store. Hinata out-touched him (barely), then immediately face-planted into the dirt. Kageyama would have laughed, if not for his body choosing that exact moment to give out as well. He collapsed to all fours with a pathetic wheeze.

The cherry on top was that the two of them had an audience. The audience in question consisted of Tanaka and Noya, both of whom started laughing hysterically.

“You little idiots!” Tanaka cackled, squeezing his sides. “Coach told you to rest up, not work even more!”

Kageyama pushed himself onto his knees and flipped Tanaka off. The second-year only roared in response.

“C'mon, guys, cut it out,” Hinata mumbled. The ginger had picked himself up off the ground and was army-crawling towards the second-years. Kageyama barely stopped himself from offering a helping hand. “I won, right? I beat him?”

“That's what you're worried about?” Kageyama asked dryly. “Besides, I won!”

“No, you didn't! Tell him, guys!”

Tanaka and Noya glanced at each other. Identical, shit-eating grins spread across their faces, and before Kageyama could say anything, the pair hurried away. He snarled, then glanced down at Hinata.

“Dumbass.”

“Jerkface.”

It took a few more minutes of panting before the two of them recovered. Hinata was the first to get up, and he held out a hand with innocent eyes. Usually, Kageyama would have slapped it away. But damn it, he was tired and sore. So, he reluctantly accepted the ginger's help and hauled himself to his feet.

The rest of the team had already settled onto the picnic table outside Sakanoshita Store (Kageyama was convinced Coach Ukai had set it out just for them). When Kageyama and Hinata approached the table, they were greeted by enthusiastic waves and Daichi's outstretched hand, which held a piece of paper and some yen – the team's snack orders.

Kageyama glanced at Hinata and raised an eyebrow. The ginger didn't even say a word; he simply vaulted over the table and plopped next to Noya with a lop-sided grin. Kageyama sighed and took Daichi's list.

The next ten minutes were spent shopping. Kageyama didn't quite know the store's layout, and Coach Ukai was nowhere to be found. Eventually, though, Kageyama managed to check off all the orders except for two.

Noya and Hinata had both neglected to mention what they wanted.

Idiots, Kageyama thought absently, chewing his lip. Hinata liked spicy foods after a brutal practice, so Kageyama snatched a pack of flaming-hot chips and dropped it into his basket. As for Noya... what would the libero want?

Just as Kageyama was considering picking something at random, a memory presented itself. Noya had brought an energy bar to practice a few days ago, hadn't he? He'd claimed that it was a manmade miracle and chowed down on it like a starving man. God, what had been the brand?

In the end, Kageyama decided that remembering the brand name was a lost cause. However, he recalled blue packaging, and that little detail was enough for him to find the energy bar a few rows down. Kageyama checked the list one more time, then placed all of Daichi's money on the counter and left the store.

In his defense, the captain would have only gotten a few hundred yen back, anyway. Ukai deserved a tip for putting up with the team.

“Here,” Kageyama shouted, shouldering through his teammates and emptying the contents of the basket onto the table. “Eat up!”

The team attacked the pile like a pack of hungry lions. Kageyama smiled faintly at the enthusiasm, then rounded the table and slipped next to Hinata. Why he chose to be right next to his object of constant frustration, he couldn't have explained. But in some odd way, the way that Hinata kicked his leg under the table was... comforting. Kageyama slumped forward onto the table and decided not to think about it too much.

A hand tugged at the sleeve of his jacket.

“Kageyama?” Hinata murmured. The ginger looked at him with wide, puppy-dog eyes. “Where's my snack?”

“You didn't ask for anything,” Kageyama muttered back. Hinata's face fell, making his puppy-dog eyes even stronger. Kageyama only managed to hold out for a few seconds before he sighed and stuck a hand inside his jacket, pulling a bag of chips from his inside pocket. “I got you these. I didn't... want them to get crushed.”

The gloom cleared from Hinata's face, and suddenly, the ginger's smile became positively radiant. Kageyama wanted to look away (both out of embarrassment and to keep from going blind), but he kept his gaze fixed on the shorter boy.

“How'd you know?” Hinata asked, awestruck. Kageyama shrugged defensively, letting the ginger pluck the chips from his hand. “Thank you!”

Kageyama grunted in response and slumped back over the picnic table. The strange ball of emotion had returned to his chest, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. It hadn't really ever left. Now, it seemed even heavier after seeing Hinata's smile.

Why?

“Hey, this is my favorite energy bar! Thanks, Tanaka!”

By mere chance, Kageyama picked out that snippet of conversation amongst the many at the table. But as soon as Noya's voice reached his ears, Kageyama tensed. Right on cue, Tanaka glanced across the table. Kageyama narrowed his eyes at the second-year.

“I didn't buy the snacks today, Noya,” Tanaka said innocently, never once breaking eye contact. Kageyama curled his lip, and a devious smile spread across Tanaka's face. “It was Kageyama.”

Kageyama groaned internally and sunk as deep into his jacket as it would allow. He even stooped to tucking himself next to Hinata, which earned him a puzzled look from the ginger. However, fate chose to ignore his pleas for mercy.

Noya leaned around Hinata, wearing his trademark dazzling grin. “Hey, thanks, Kageyama!” the libero said brightly. “How'd you know I like this stuff? I bet Tanaka told you, right?”

“He didn't tell me anything,” Kageyama muttered. “I, uh... I saw you bring one to practice the other day.”

Noya's grin slipped. “Really? You remembered that?”

God, Kageyama just wanted to sink into the earth or throw something. Anything to get both Noya's and Hinata's gazes off of him. “Yeah.”

For a few more painful seconds, Noya stared at him. Then something akin to respect flickered through the libero's eyes. Before Kageyama could figure out if he'd just imagined the moment, Noya returned to his seat with a simple, “I guess it doesn't really matter how you knew. Thanks again!”

Hinata immediately turned to face him, mouth already open.

“Don't say a word,” Kageyama snarled. “I will kick your ass.”

The ginger made a face but said nothing. Kageyama grunted, silently relieved, then finally turned his attention to his own snack. It was at that moment that he realized he'd neglected to get himself anything to eat.

“Want one?”

Hinata was holding out his bag of chips with raised eyebrows. Kageyama sighed heavily and accepted a single chip.

Half an hour later, Coach Ukai showed up at the store and shooed them away. Well, the actual words that came out of Ukai's mouth were, “What the hell are you kids still doing out?! Go home before I run you out of here!” Regardless of the exact phrasing, the team scattered, and Kageyama found himself wandering the dark streets with Hinata.

For the second time in as many hours, Kageyama wondered why he'd paired off with Hinata. Most of the time, he couldn't wait to get away from the hyperactive ginger and enjoy some precious alone time. And yet... Kageyama really didn't mind the company.

Peaceful silence hung between them. The only sounds were their shuffling footsteps and heavy breaths. Every so often, Hinata would sniffle and rub his nose, but other than that, they were quiet.

Eventually, though, Kageyama got worried.

“Did your brain stop working?” he asked. Hinata shot him a confused look, and he rolled his eyes. “You're only quiet when Coach Ukai is talking to us. What's going on?”

“My brain is fine!” Hinata snapped. “I was just... thinking.”

“Did you hurt yourself in the process?”

Hinata threw a weak punch, which Kageyama easily deflected. They scuffled for a moment, grabbing at each other's bags and jackets, then continued walking.

“We're a good team, aren't we?” Hinata said suddenly. It was a statement, not a question.

Kageyama thought for a moment. “Yeah,” he agreed eventually. “We're not perfect, and there's a lot that needs to be fixed. Especially your terrible receives.” Again, Hinata tried to hit him, and again, Kageyama dodged it. “But you're right. We have potential.”

A malicious glitter sprung to life in Hinata's eyes. “I'm sorry, what was that?” the ginger asked innocently. “Did you just say that I'm right?”

“Shut up!"

The two walked for a few more minutes, Kageyama seething and Hinata giggling to himself. Soon enough, Kageyama's ire faded into the night. It was too peaceful out not to feel a little more forgiving than usual. Besides... the stars shone high above them. Even in the middle of the suburbs, a dazzling array of constellations sparkled overhead.

“Hey, Kageyama?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you like the stars?”

It was a simple question, but it was laced with something Kageyama couldn't explain. He stumbled to a stop and glanced over at Hinata. The ginger had stopped in the street and was admiring the stars with a gentle smile, his hands curled around his bag's strap.

“I've always loved the stars,” Hinata continued softly. “There's this amazing spot right behind my house where you can see the whole sky. It's like... you're the only one in the whole world. It's kind of like how it feels when you set a ball right into my hands, and I feel like I'm flying. It's kinda lonely. But at the same time, you know that there's someone nearby.”

If ever there had been a moment to render Kageyama speechless, it was this one. He'd never heard Hinata speak any quieter than an excitable ramble, let alone be so... introspective.

Hinata suddenly met his gaze. The shorter boy's caramel eyes seemed to ripple in the moonlight. “Are we a good team?”

It was the same question but with a very different meaning.

Kageyama and Hinata had only known each other for a few months. Before that, they'd been rivals divided by a net. But now?

Now...

“Yeah,” Kageyama said quietly. “I think so.”

A warm smile touched Hinata's face. It was different from all the others Kageyama had ever seen the ginger wear. It carried the same energetic undertones as always, but it was softer at the edges. This was a smile meant for one person and one person alone.

Kageyama shoved his hands into his pockets and prayed that the darkness of the street hid his lop-sided smile. He gently knocked Hinata's shoulder, then continued down the road. The ginger followed suit, and they fell into easy synchronization as if they'd been walking together since childhood.

“I've never seen that view you always talk about, you know,” Kageyama mused. “The one from the top of the net.”

Hinata gave him a thoughtful look. “Really? But you're always so... passionate! I know that I'm not a setter, and you think it's the best position and all that, but... don't you ever want to be the one to hit a perfect spike? Don't you want to see that view?”

If someone had asked him what his first thought was in response to Hinata's question, Kageyama would have claimed to have felt jealous of never hitting a spike. In reality, his head was flooded with a million and one memories from all their practices and official games.

Hinata, landing on the floor after blazing through the other team's defense.

Hinata, turning to look at him with fiery eyes and a triumphant grin.

Hinata, shining brighter the sun after every successful spike and carrying that glow with him for days.

“I'm good,” Kageyama murmured eventually. “I don't need to see it for myself.”

The rest of their walk was spent in silence. It was a peaceful silence, though, and when Hinata peeled away towards his house, the ginger's smile reflected the same contentedness that Kageyama felt in his very bones.

As Kageyama stood at the top of the hill, watching Hinata walk away bathed in moonlight, he realized something.

The strange ball of emotion in his chest was finally gone.