Chapter Text
Kuroo blinked as he took in his surroundings, which were certainly not his tiny Tokyo apartment.
Where … ? What…?
He was winding down for bed just before this. Well, kind of.
Okay so, he was reading through the partnership contract the Japanese Volleyball Association was striking with Bouncing Ball Corporation for the V. League collaboration videos. He hadn’t been in his management position that long but his ties with the Monster Generation and world-renowned streamer Kodzuken certainly helped the project he proposed gain traction. The idea had been simmering in his head for years at this point. All he was doing was triple-checking the legalese and maybe dozing off a bit.
Way back when Coach Nekomata stood tall above him and shared the importance of joy in playing volleyball, Kuroo had known, even if it was just a small seed then, that he wanted to pay it forward and connect the future to the sport that gave so much to him. His heart thrummed alongside every jump and block, every dig and spike, every serve and toss, even now on the sidelines. What better way than to show that thrill to the masses and lower the net by showcasing how human these monsters of men can be?
Kuroo broke his musings to examine the area, especially with all the cheering that erupted in the stands. It had been a while since he stood in the cheering sections above the courts. What a small wonder to see the children down below so intent and focused on the next play. Examining the sports hall, it looked like the far left court finished up their match and the gray-blue and white uniforms had won against the ones in soft grass green and white.
He squinted more closely down below, scanning the rest of the courts. So, It was a no to this being the Tokyo Metropolitan Gym. And since it wasn’t finished just yet, that also ruled out the Ariake Arena. Maybe a local school gym? No, space’s too big, Kuroo contemplated, It looks like a middle school tournament… But where? And how?
As he shuffled in his mental map of prefecture gyms he has visited since his short tenure in the JVA’s sports promotion division, he began to walk around, getting up from his slumped sitting position with a small groan. Belatedly, he realized that he was still in his work clothes, dressed up in his three-piece business attire of a white dress shirt, black slacks, and vest. Reaching into his pocket, he found his tie rolled up and a handkerchief, but no phone.
Strange.
Considering the ongoing matches below, there was a safe bet in finding a matches bracket somewhere in the vicinity. Scanning the area, he left the gymnasium proper and backtracked towards the entrance. As he crossed the threshold of the audience sitting area, he felt a sense of deja vu hit him. Kuroo quickened his pace a tad as the surrounding area was becoming clearer. In one of the open waiting areas, there stood a familiar art piece with its large tilted face staring back at him as he took the iconic wall decoration in.
Kamei Arena Sendai?
Well, at least he had been here a few times with the sports promotion people enough to recognize the structure from the inside. It helped that between the three V. League Divisions there were quite a few players on team rosters that hailed from Miyagi.
Is this some sort of dream maybe? pondered Kuroo, now a touched more concerned with the confirmation that he wasn’t in Tokyo anymore. Maybe the curry he had last night wasn’t settling in his stomach. This was just a tripped-up lucid dream made up of all his ongoing concerns right now.
He knew the first match of the season for the V. League was going to be in Sendai in a couple of weeks, and with a reunion years in the making. After all, who wouldn’t want to catch the Freak Quick duo standing on opposite sides of the court? The Schweiden Alders vs. MSBY Black Jackals match was going to be a showstopping opening to the rest of the season. The unknown rookie on the Black Jackals was going to cause a lot of heads to turn towards volleyball. Kuroo wanted to make sure he seized the opportunity to persuade Hinata Shoyo to work with him on the collaboration videos.
He was pretty excited about the match, for other reasons. Many of the country crows will probably be among the masses in the crowds. Most of the Karasuno graduates had kept in contact with other volleyball players they’ve befriended (or intrigued) through the years, forged friendships through their trials of volleyball trainings and tournaments. They were always a riot and a half to be around. Though, admittedly, Kuroo recognized it had been almost a year or so since he’s really seen hide or hair of anyone, even with his friends located in Tokyo. He was buried in his work and acclimating to the pace of his job. This would be the first time he would have more fun than he would normally have with work, particularly because there would be so many friendly faces to check in with.
And maybe… Well, if he was able to catch some one-on-one time with a certain someone, he wouldn’t mind.
The traitorous mind of his flashed images in quick succession of broad shoulders, heavy with a familiar responsibility he knew well; a steady, sturdy gaze in wide, honest chocolate brown eyes, and the upturn of a smile with an edge of competition, daring him to keep pushing. For what? Kuroo never got a clear answer, being the coward he was. He never confronted the more-than-friendly interest he had (has?) for Daichi. The tired excuse of concentrating on getting Nekoma ready for Spring High was his scapegoat, and every opportunity he had was squandered. Kuroo was, believe it or not, just too tongue-tied to actually confront his feelings for the captain that brought Karasuno to Nationals.
It wasn’t a big deal! Life happened, and he was keeping himself busy. It would just be nice to catch up with Daichi was all. If he could. If he wanted to. Would he want to?
Yeah, definitely not overthinking this. No, not at all. Kuroo chided himself lightly. He shouldn’t be so invested in something he may never muster the courage for.
Moving forward, he made his way over to the front of the entrance, not really taking in too much of the surrounding area now that he was within reach of his goal. As he spied the board of interest, he saddled up in front of it.
Clear of everything else, the board had a single poster page with all the matches neatly lined up in black ink. From the looks of it, it was still early in the tournament with the second-round elimination matches only partially filled. As he scanned the page, confirming he truly was in Sendai for the Miyagi prefecture’s junior high volleyball tournament, his gaze stopped at one detail that tilted everything he knew on its axis.
2010 Miyagi Prefecture Junior High Volleyball tournament
What .
Kuroo’s jaw dropped considerably. He barely took in the names of the schools like Shiratorizawa Junior High Academy, Kitagawa Daiichi, Taihaku, and Izumitate as he tried to process what he was seeing. He was in Sendai and eight years into the past, with no clear explanation. Kuroo felt himself card through his hair and pulled near his roots. A feeble attempt to physically and mentally wrap his head around this. Or maybe jar himself awake from this reality he was currently in.
How ? was the only thought that Kuroo kept coming back to. He began to pace himself in the front of the gymnasium, manic with excess energy to burn as his thoughts raced in figuring out how he transported temporally and physically. It helped matters none when he moved away from the building proper and confirmed that Kamei Arena was back to its former title of Sendai City Gymnasium.
Oh, he wanted to scream.
Instead, Kuroo moved towards the shaded area hoping to recollect himself in the peaceful garden, so he can figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now.
His spiraling thoughts grinded to a halt at the soft sound of sniffles. Looking around the space, he noticed a boy tucked into a corner of benches alongside the threes, hidden partially from view. The boy was wearing the same green uniform he noticed earlier in the court. Now that he was closer, he could even make out that this was probably the team captain, the large number one emblazoned on the back of his uniform.
Ah. Kuroo softened, his personal stress second to the plight in front of him. A loss can sting a lot, and Kuroo knows that experience all too well. His heart went out to the kid. As he started to move towards him to share some conciliatory commiseration, his hand froze in mid-air, another problem aborting his action.
Should he be interacting with people? It’s not like he was going to run into anyone he knew… right? What were those movies with time travel always on about? Kuroo felt superbly unprepared for any of this.
Gods, okay so 2010 put himself at about…
Before he could calculate the likelihood of potentially running into a mini-version of someone, the sniffles turned into quiet sobs, as if the boy couldn’t contain his emotions anymore but he needed to let it out while clamping down on the noise. Kuroo felt his heart break a little bit more at the muffled sounds. Kuroo couldn’t watch this boy feel so down anymore.
Kuroo stood up and reached over to tap the boy’s shoulder lightly, schooling his face in a manner he hoped wasn’t too intimidating or creepy.
At his touch, the boy whirled around, and, at that moment, Kuroo knew he was in deep shit.
Sawamura Daichi.
A fourteen-year-old Sawamura Daichi in the flesh.
Kuroo gapped at the miniature version of his rival ( friend, crush, person you’ve pined over since your last year in high school- shush, Tetsurou! ) while mini-Sawamura tried to apologize for his disturbance, all deep bows and an attempt at a steady voice while trying to keep face in the situation.
Of all the people he could run into… he couldn’t even appreciate how cute Sawamura was with his baby fat-ladened cheeks and awkward limbs because his mind was awhirl with the sole fact that he was so fucked .
“Ah, no, no, it’s okay!” Kuroo blurted out, trying to hold on to some part of his sanity, and stop Sawamura from apologizing when it was his fault for disturbing him, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Sawamura stopped mid-bow as he looked up ( and up and up. How is he so cute !? ) to Kuroo, those same chocolate orbs he had seen steady and resolute back in high school, now timid and sad, “I’m fine, sir.”
Oh no. Kuroo was not ready for any of this.
“Hey now, it’s okay to be sad. Tournaments are a lot, not just physically, but emotionally too,” Kuroo quickly countered, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. Tentatively, he sat down on the other bench beside Sawamura and motioning him to sit back down, “Match didn’t go so well?”
There’s a look that flashed quickly over Sawamura’s face, reminiscent of ones Kuroo has seen opposite the courts as they played each other, mulish and stubborn, before it was hidden over the mask he insisted on upholding in front of Kuroo. “We tried our best. It just… wasn’t enough.”
Kuroo offered his hands up in the air as a symbol of surrender. Even now, young as Sawamura was, the shades of his captain voice were there. He wasn’t going to fight him on this. Not when he heard the gut-wrenching sobs and the knife-twisting cries. There was a yawning feeling beginning to fester, and Kuroo knew then he couldn’t handle even a past version of Sawamura upset. This wasn’t a loss like that against Kamomedai where conciliatory hugs were welcomed.
“I’m not saying you didn’t, kid, but losses happen. Here, take this,” he said, opting to at least try and comfort, and pulled the handkerchief for Sawamura to use, “Where’s your team?”
Sawamura took the proffered item and sat back down, gently swiping away at his adorable plush-like face and cute-as-a-button nose as he explained that he took some time for himself while the team regrouped and tried to watch a couple more matches before they were heading home.
It seemed to be calming him down some, which Kuroo was grateful for because he’s not sure what was going to do him in first. The fact that Sawamura was adorably pocket-sized without the tenacious and intimidating aura he carried as the tireless captain of crows? The fact that even as a still-growing teenage boy Sawamura has the shades of the natural-born leader, ready to defend his team and lead them with his head held high? The fact that Kuroo was obviously and irrevocably facing the cold truth that the crush long ago was definitely not something dormant, but alive and well?
He groaned internally. He was not ready to unpack any of this right now.
As Sawamura quieted down, Kuroo spoke up, “It’s okay to feel this way, you know. Losses hurt, but you can learn from them. Keep playing to your fullest. You’ll never know where that’ll get you.”
The boy stared back at him, handkerchief crushed in his hand before he looked away, staring down at his knees and mumbled something. When Kuroo hummed in confusion, he spoke up just a tiny bit louder for him to make out, “I know we did our best, but… what if we-- what if I’m never good enough to play, especially against schools like Shiratorizawa? I want to keep playing. A single match is… It’s just not as fun. Losing isn’t fun.”
Kuroo frowned at that. He remembered when he and Daichi would commiserate about how it took a lot to keep their team going year after year. How their captainship was filled with anxiety on if they were doing their team right with their leadership. How, in their own minds, they would see the worst-case scenario coming to life. Thankfully, their ticket to Nationals culminated in an unforgettable experience at the Spring High. He hadn’t realized the feeling of inadequacy had run deeper.
If he remembered correctly, Coach Ukai didn’t sign on until the first time Nekoma and Karasuno had met and played during that Golden Week match-up. Was Daichi always feeling this pressure back then? To perform his best, even if there were no pillars for him to fall back on?
“You enjoy it though, yeah? Playing volleyball?” Kuroo asked.
“More than anything!”
At that impassioned proclamation, Kuroo smiled fondly and leaned back into his seat, thinking back about his earlier thoughts on volleyball.
Careful not to topple into the carefully laid-out planter boxes, he responded, “Then, there’s no need to worry. You know, there’s a saying I think you’d like. When you do what you love, success will come. My first volleyball mentor shared that with me once, and it has stuck with me even now.” Kuroo owed Coach Nekomata a lot; perhaps, it was time for another visit.
He continued on wistfully, thinking of the future he saw Sawamura’s counterpart, his Daichi, if you will, achieve, “You clearly love volleyball. Keep doing what you’re doing. It’s going to pay off one day, you’ll see. Who knows, you might even make it to Nationals one day.”
He saw Sawamura light up as he replied, “You know, sir,” — he still choked internally at formal address, was he really so old to this Sawamura? Twenty-three (almost twenty-four) was a respectable age! — “I’m going to attend Karasuno High next year! That’s where the Little Giant soared to the Nationals stage a few years ago.”
Fond indulgence made its way to Kuroo’s face, softening at Sawamura being able to bounce back at the thought of the future. It helped that he knew what the future held for this Sawamura. A resounding comeback with a series of amazing plays for the crows who grew their wings from near nothing but their sheer will, all from the ground up. A touchstone amid the chaos that tempered and refined the abundance of talent and passion and ignited the passion of aggressive plays that knew no fear from his team. Hell, he knew it carried on beyond the courts. Daichi was an upstanding citizen doing his part to keep his community safe. A respected individual that even the monsters of volleyball acknowledged and listened to.
“Yeah? Well, I’ll be looking forward to it. Keep your receive practices up. Going for those digs is just as important as the attacks.”
Okay, so maybe this was skirting the line of some time travel rules or whatever. Kuroo can handle the fallout afterward. Because, honestly, who could deny anything to that face? The one that struck him as just another captain, unassuming and trustingly sweet surface. He was certain of that foolish assumption, lulled in until he shook Daichi’s hand way back when. Underneath that sweet, strong-jawed face belied a cunning wit that would rival his own provocations.
Besides, it’s not like he asked to be put in this situation anyway. All those super complex plotlines were always more Kenma's realm than his.
At this point, Sawamura tilted his face in puzzlement at Kuroo’s unsolicited advice. The urge to pinch those cheeks swarmed Kuroo’s brain before he could toss it away. Ugh, so cute .
“Do you play volleyball, sir?” he asked.
Kuroo smiled, still soft and indulgent, as he replied, “Yeah. Ever since I was little. Then partway through college before classes had gotten to be too much, but I did. You know, I’ve even made it to Nationals once.”
The sparkle came back into those round, dark brown eyes, alight with excitement as Sawamura said, “Really?!”
Kuroo himself blinked at the reaction, brain stalling and cheeks growing warm. He scooted a little closer to Kuroo as well in his eagerness to learn more about someone who played more intense volleyball matches. Honestly, teenage boys shouldn’t be this endearing, but Sawamura proved to be the exception to the rule in Kuroo’s eyes. The kid showed some honest interest, and here he was infinitely pleased by the thought he couldn’t even keep a blush off his face.
Laughing to himself quietly, Kuroo began to share some stories of his volleyball player days. He made sure to skirt the exact details of some of Karasuno’s exploits with their practice matches (there has to be some rule about the time travel butterfly effect or whatever, right?), but he still shared what he could.
Sawamura was a captive audience, hanging on to his words. He oohed and ahhed at the right moments, asked follow-up questions, and laughed alongside the retellings. There may still be some faint tear tracks and his lower eyelids showed signs of wear, but that megawatt broad grin? Outshined everything.
Had he ever shared this with Daichi? He should. It was nice to recount the memories of amazing plays or epic fails. He even included some random volleyball shenanigans he’d gotten up to over the years during training camps with Fukurodani. Those were always a riot.
With the lull in the conversation, Kuroo’s glance shifted briefly towards the world outside of this shady hiding spot. He’s not one to want to end the conversation, especially as Sawamura started sharing some of his experience with volleyball. It was refreshing to see the sport they loved from a more novice perspective.
Sawamura, perhaps picking up on the movement, caught himself mid-story. He seemed to have some sort of realization and Kuroo swore that he might have some red in his cheeks. “Ah. I probably should get going. Thank you so much for talking with me, sir.”
Before Kuroo can say anything in return— and to introduce himself properly because this sir business needed to stop —Sawamura bounced up off his seat and bowed deeply. Lifting himself up quickly, Sawamura’s crushed fist came into Kuroo’s view, reaching out towards him, and in it, the handkerchief.
He began to apologize, “I’m sorry about the handker-”
Kuroo waved his statement off, cutting in with, “Don’t worry about it. Keep it. I’ve plenty. Guess I’ve kept you here long enough, huh?”
Before Sawamura can respond, he couldn’t help but add an additional remark, “I’m glad to have met you.”
He was being too sincere at that parting statement, but he couldn’t help himself. He’s learned a lot in the last few minutes about Daichi and himself. Some he didn’t think he’d addressed; others, he didn’t even know. So, whatever this time travel thing was, he was at least glad to see and learn a bit more Daichi albeit through this younger version of himself.
And hey, while they were at it… Kuroo figured, In for a yen, what’s a thousand more?
“Hey, before you go, I wanted to share something with you,” Kuroo spoke up and motioned for Sawamura to come closer, as he pivoted his upper body forward, hunching, “Stick your fist out like this,” and his hand closes into a tight fist as he guides the boy to do the same.
“Now, bam!” exclaimed the sports promoter as he raised his own first, though with his pointer and middle fingers up in a V for victory, above Sawamura’s, “To your success in volleyball.”
The puzzled look on Sawamura’s face was just as endearing as any other look he had shown today, but Kuroo knew he had to explain before fawning over him (again).
“It’s a thing I did with my best friend. We, well, I promised to get our volleyball team to be number one in Japan and get us on the Nationals stage. This was our way of reminding each other of that promise. I want to share that with you because I know you’re going to go far.”
There’s a wistful smile that graced Kuroo’s face as he thinks about Kenma. He had certainly taken to heart their promise, the quiet, observant kitten of Nekoma old, making a splash across the internet.
A resolute look crossed Sawamura’s face as if motivated by the impromptu gesture. At least Kuroo hoped. It’s a small thing to part with, this ritual, especially since he hasn’t used it since that Battle of the Garbage Dump so long ago.
“Thank you so much!”
Sawamura bowed again, the polite boy that he is, before running off to find his teammates.
Once Sawamura was out of sight, Kuroo sighed as he slumped back to rest on the bench backing, an arm tossed over his eyes to further block out the light. The short, but hair-raising interaction was almost too much for him. Atop that, he’s still not sure what he was supposed to do with the whole I’m-eight-years-and-several-hundred-kilometers-too-far-to-be-where-and-when-I-am bit.
Kuroo took a moment to recollect himself. What a day . Or maybe night. Was he dreaming? Was this real life? Gods, what was he going to do if this was truly his life now, stuck in the past? What would he even do?
Shaking himself physically to ward off the mental spiral that was surely coming on, he took a few deep breaths in and out, holding for a few counts each time. As he sat back again, this time with closed eyes, he let his mind wander while he kept count.
In and out.
Maybe the mindfulness video that Akaashi sent him, and made him watch through, would come in handy today.
In. Two, three. Out. Two, three.
Honestly, he should follow his own advice though.
In. Out.
Soon, Kuroo found himself drifting.
And then black.
“Ngggh.”
Groggy, Kuroo came to with his face buried amid what he thought were the contract papers he was working on. Drool pooled a bit towards his right cheek, which always made him feel worse off than he was. Gently, he began to pry around the edges of the paper sticking to his face and setting back onto the counter of countless other sheets while he reoriented himself back to his apartment.
One sore back and a myriad of work-related items strewn about? Check.
One work outfit that he shouldn’t have been sleeping in? Check.
A vivid memory of all that entailed which somehow included time travel? Check.
Well then.
Not exactly a resounding check-in he was looking forward to. If anything, that left more questions than answers considering he didn’t know what to make of the fact he met a young Sawamura Daichi. He didn’t feel anything different. He remembered the fuzzy, warm feeling of just being able to talk to the boy about the good memories of volleyball. And the ache of wanting to talk to the Daichi of now.
His brain was still waking up from whatever stupor he was in, but it was doubtful that even with an alert mind he can make heads or tails out of… all of this. Time travel or dream or whatever it was didn’t leave any lingering effects, so he can at least take comfort in that.
He does feel more at ease though. As crazy as whatever happened did, there's a calm within Kuroo that can't necessarily put a reason as to why. Maybe he stressed-imagined it all.
With a stretch of his arms, and then legs, Kuroo went about making his makeshift sleeping corner more hospitable before turning towards the rest of the apartment, still mulling over what he learned from that… bizarre trip to the past.
Kuroo was finally getting some caffeine in him before he spied his phone right on the edge of the workspace he cleaned up. Unbidden, a thought came to him.
Now’s the time to buck up, Tetsurou.
Not taking a chance to second guess himself, Kuroo opened it quickly and typed a message before sending it off. Heart in his throat, he placed it down and hoped for the best.
Cat Captain >> Hey, Sa’amura-san! Any chance you’re heading to Sendai for the V. League opening match? I’ll be there. We should catch up.
Crow Captain >> So formal, Kuroo-san. What’s the catch?
Crow Captain >> I wouldn’t miss it. Now, what’s this about a meet-up?