Chapter Text
I'm tugging at my hair
I'm pulling at my clothes
I'm trying to keep my cool
I know it shows
Kageyama Tobio was definitely dying. If not actively dying then he was most definitely terminally ill. He had scheduled his annual check up a whole month early, scrambling to find answers to his predicament in hopes he could keep what little sanity he had left. To his disappointment his physical exam reflected no abnormalities. On all superficial levels he was in tiptop shape: impressive blood panel, outstanding vitals... he was the epitome of “good health” as his doctor said. He wasn’t relieved one bit.
“If you’re insisting that something is wrong Tobio, I could refer you to a specialist but in order to do so,” he paused on the other line trying to word it as delicately as possible since every attempt had been futile in easing Kageyama into disclosing the more intimate details of his mysterious ailment.
“I‘ll need more information on what your symptoms are. Working this long in medicine I've seen it all. I have been seeing you since you were a baby. There’s no shame in whatever is happening. I want nothing more than to help you."
Kageyama was mortified. There was no way, no chance in any reality that he could put more than the physical symptoms into (vague) words. He knew something was wrong. Something was terribly terribly wrong, but even so he wasn’t ready to be institutionalized, or worse: have his suspicions that it was that.
All the mental symptoms... They were horrific. Much, much worse; he was going coo coo for Cocoa Puffs, completely and totally out of his mind, he could practically hear all the loose screws rattling around in his thick skull.
He groaned and slumped face down onto the kitchen table, wrinkling his nose in disdain. He gave up. It was futile.
“Thank you Yamamoto Sensei. I’ll let you know if my condition worsens.”
He dodged the question inelegantly but with as much pleasantness as he could muster. He knew the doctor only wanted to help. He had initially thought that maybe it would just… go away. Maybe it was some weird phase. But it had been weeks, months, and Kageyama was at his wits end.
“Alright Tobio.” Yamamoto Sensei’s sigh echoed in the receiver. “You have the office number, as well as my personal cell.”
Kageyama exchanged farewells and hung up. Time ticked by as he continued moping on the kitchen table. Mulling over his options, the only person he could tell the more… intimate details was his mother, but he knew that she would patronize and coo at him before she actually gave any advice. He didn't think his blood pressure could handle anymore than it already had.
It wasn't normal to have these uncontrollable urges, and the feelings may be normal to others (per the wisdom of the internet) but absolutely not to him and absolutely not in these circumstances. If no one believed him…he would have to continue to live around it, and so far doing so in Miyagi has proved impossible. So as a last ditch effort, he would have to convince his mother that they had to move, possibly even change their family name. Dye their hair and go by the Yamadas… or something.
Kageyama couldn't continue to get lost in his plight — he needed to focus on finding a solution. His hands dug into his scalp as he gave a low groan, shaking his head like a wet dog as if doing so would fling all the worries away from him. One thing was for sure: he would take those inner thoughts and visions to his grave.
✦✧⭑⭒✧✦
It all started with the heart palpitations.
As far as Kageyama could remember, it was a day like any other. He woke up that morning well rested, sat through his classes with little distractions, and killed it at practice. If anything, he was on a roll today, still motivated by his experience at the training camp with Nekoma and Fukurodani just a few days prior. It wasn’t until he and Hinata stayed after practice to shoot some tosses and crush some spikes that the day took a turn out of the ordinary.
Hinata had changed since the Tokyo training camp — at the beginning of July. He wasn’t sure what it was or what happened, but the way Hinata carried himself on the court was more confident than it had been during the Interhigh Preliminaries. It was subtle in the way he placed his feet, the square in his shoulders. His sharp eyes were as animalistic as ever, hungry for the ball, but had developed a refined edge to them. He was more honed and calculated; less wild and desperate. Kageyama eyed him with curiosity as Hinata spiked ball after ball, trying to determine the right arc in order for the shrimp to make the best use of his wings.
“Gah!” The ball slammed against the wood paneling of the gym floor as Hinata secured another wicked spike. “I know I can get it higher than that.” Hinata huffed with frustration and wiped the beads of sweat at his neck with the edge of his gym shirt.
"C’mon one more!” They’d been at it for a while now and the sun was about to go down, but it took very little to convince Kageyama to set a ball.
“Fine but this is the last one.” He narrowed his eyes to show he was serious and went to go gather one of the balls from the gym basket.
They took their positions, bodies accustomed to the movements of the set just as natural as breathing. Kageyama set the ball, admiring it as it arched beautifully. He smiled to himself in that split second, silently commending his handiwork. The ball was not too short, not too tall; absolutely perfect for Hinata’s wingspan. It seemed the redhead's feelings were mutual as a wicked sneer split his face in half and his arm snapped the ball fast and lethal. Hinata buckled on his descent, catching himself with one hand braced against the floor as he gulped air. Kageyama felt a bead of sweat slide down his neck and gulped, trying to swallow through the sudden thickness weighing heavy in his lungs.
Hinata snapped up not a second later and laughed “YES!!!” He shook his clenched fists, practically vibrating without restraint.
“Did you see how tall that was! It was perfect!” He turned to beam at Kageyama, and when their eyes connected Kageyama’s throat closed.
Hinata’s hair stuck to his forehead in messy curls. His cheeks were full and flushed, framing the unguarded grin on his face. His almond eyes reflected the last dredges of sunrise pouring warm summer light over them and illuminating the dust motes flowing carelessly through the stagnant air of the gymnasium.
Kageyama felt dizzy. He struggled to breathe, not realizing that he was even holding his breath in the first place. As he made an effort to give critique on the spiker’s landing he felt a painful pang in his chest.
“Guuuhh” He doubled over and clutched his chest as he felt his heart squeeze painfully, throbbing with a hollow ache. He clenched his teeth and waited for it to pass, sensing Hinata approaching him.
“Are you okay??” Hinata’s eyebrows pinched together in concern as he inched closer, hovering unsure.
“Yeah,” Kageyama took a shaky breath as his head stopped spinning and his heart stilled.
"Yeah. I’m fine. Just probably a little sore from the camp.” He stood back up and winced at how his body throbbed as he released the tension in his back. He rolled his neck and shoulder to rub it out. “Let’s pack it up.”
“Okay…” Hinata said warily. “But Kageyama,” His face split into a grin again and he pointed enthusiastically at the net where he had spiked the ball only seconds ago. “That set was so cool!! It went swoosh!! And when I hit it like thwap!!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes shining once more with delight.
“I know.” Kageyama smirked at the middle blocker, the All my sets are cool going without saying. Hinata puffed his cheeks out in annoyance.
“That’s the part where you say my spike was cool.” He huffed and crossed his arms.
Kageyama just laughed in response, turning to gather the balls and prepare to lock up. That was weird. Kageyama had never felt a twinge like that before. He recalled the feeling, zoning out while the redhead rambled on behind him. After they cleaned up they parted goodbyes with clipped farewells.
Later that night, fresh out of the bath, he scrolled on his phone examining Google search results. A variety of conditions looked back at him through the LED screen of his phone. Heart failure…. Unlikely. Anxiety? Not considering his elated mood after the camp…. Muscle pain…. maybe, though he made sure to stretch sufficiently just like every day. The word “Costochondritis” caught his eye.
One click onto an article and a few scrolls later had Kageyama mildly concerned. Signs and symptoms were exactly what he had experienced: sharp pain and soreness in the chest, and the article even states that the pains could be caused by extensive exercise. The “growing pains” were relatively normal and would go away on their own, though. He’d heard of growing pains, but always thought it was more of an abstract concept than a physical one. Huh, ya learn something new everyday he mused. Confident that it would be resolved by itself, he locked his phone and rolled over to sleep.
✦✧⭑⭒✧✦
A couple weeks passed without much to note. Kageyama continued on as normal, days blended together as the team prepared for the Spring Interhigh National Tournament Miyagi Qualifying Rounds (what a ridiculous mouthful). All he could think about was how he was so close to making it to Nationals and all of the steps that the team needed to take to make it there.
He had a list of what they needed to practice exact and thorough down to the hour, and was only a little miffed that no one was following it as diligently as they should. Before he knew it, August came and went. They made it through the Spring Interhigh National Tournament Miyagi Qualifying Rounds (they should really shorten that title, or maybe an acronym?? SINTMQR…. okay maybe not).
Kageyama felt electric after shutting down Ohigiminami High. He carried over the high of triumph into their last match. Tossing and setting, spiking and receiving as much as he could against their last hurdle: Kakugawa High. It was match point and all Karasuno needed was a seamless set against Kakugawa’s defense. Kakugawa set the ball over the net, Nishinoya received it and called out to Kageyama.
It was moments like these, when the other team was sweating buckets in exhaustion and anxiety that Karasuno’s team attack almost guaranteed their success. With every member running full on towards the net Kageyama prepared to cup the ball in the palm of his hands, trusting that the shrimp was close behind.
As he prepared to set the ball he chanced a glance at the middle blocker. Hinata was beaming, almost maniacally. His eyes flashed, darting from Kageyama’s own to the net. The air between them sparked with the knowledge that he didn’t have to ask for this toss: that it belonged to him. Kageyama’s stomach swooped as he directed the ball towards the pull of Karasuno’s number 10 who spiked it so fast that Kageyama thought he missed until the reverberating echo of the ball slamming the wood floor rang clear as a bell.
The final whistle blew, signaling their victory. Kageyama let go of the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The crowd roared with both exhilaration and disbelief. The cheers slowly faded into the background as he locked eyes across the court. He felt like he was underwater: all the sound around him was muffled, like cotton was stuffed into his ears.
He flushed even hotter despite his uniform being soaked through with sweat. His head jumbled into knots, lungs working to grasp as much oxygen as they could. Hinata stared back breathing, just as hard, his smile growing impossibly in size at the prolonged eye contact. Kageyama felt a hollow feeling in his stomach as it dropped again, his heart picking up and his hands twitched with an indescribable weight. He stepped forward in an effort to…
What, exactly??
Before he could continue that train of thought the spell was broken as the Karasuno Volleyball Club dog piled both he and the Middle Blocker in celebration of their well deserved victory.
✦✧⭑⭒✧✦
Ever since that day Kageyama found the redhead occupying his life much more frequently. It wasn't as if the squirt was in his life more. No, more like his presence became more…. prominent. Whereas Hinata merely occupied the background of his days before The Interhigh Incident in August, now it was as if Kageyama's eyes couldn't stop seeking him out. He was no longer a fixture or a fly on the wall. No, he'd slowly morphed into a teeny tiny abrasively neon orange hurdle to jump over whenever he was in proximity.
At times Kageyama feels similar sensations to the cardiac salsa he felt on the court at the Interhigh Tournament. It was on a regular day that he noticed it. Kageyama sat at his desk in the middle of an English test daydreaming over the next steps to Nationals. He was staring off and out into space as an orange blur caught the edge of his vision. He turned his gaze towards the tangerine headed dolt one row back on the other side of the room. Hinata had one hand in his hair pulling at the locks as if doing so would yank the answer from that empty head onto the paper itself.
The other hand was loosely curled around his pencil, its eraser being devoured by the anxious nibbling of pearly white teeth. Kageyama wrinkled his nose at how unsanitary it was, and he was about to turn around again until his gaze pulled, lingering on Hinata’s lips. Were they always so…. pink?? and they looked soft…. ? Plush. He felt his cheeks heat at the line of thought. Hinata seemed to sense the gaze, looking up and locking eyes with the Setter, pencil pulling at the swell of his spit-slick bottom lip.
Kageyama caught fire, eyes widening in terror as his heart leapt out of his chest and up his throat. Mortified, he spun his head so fast he felt like he was going to throw up, pass out, or combust (or maybe even a combination of the three). As soon as the period ended he stumbled to the infirmary, willing his stomach to stop churning and his heart to still. If he threw up no one knew the wiser because there was absolutely no chance he would miss practice this close to Nationals.
It only really escalated from there. Before The English Exam Incident, Kageyama's life was simple and consisted of two equally simple things: Volleyball and Things That Are Necessary To Do To Play More Volleyball (i.e.: school). After The English Exam Incident, Kageyama's blissfully routine days were over. The beginning of the end practically occurred overnight. His days became jumbled and odd, and what once was The Life and Times of Volleyball and Things That Are Necessary To Do To Play Even More Volleyball eventually morphed to include Weird and Compulsive Observations Of His Teammates and Even Weirder Mystery Illness (Heart Failure ??), which he would later come to assume was one and the same.
He became increasingly aware of himself the weeks following The Original Incident At The Interhigh Tournament . Before he was even aware of it his eyes began to drift over to Hinata, and by a week’s time he had come to learn an embarrassingly large amount about the orange haired small fry that held absolutely no significance to Volleyball (or Things That Are Necessary To Do To Play Significantly More Volleyball for that matter). Absolutely asinine things such as the fact that Hinata chewed all the ends of his pencils.
Not one class would go by in which an eraser was spared, so much so that he used a collection of stand alone erasers which curiously never had a single nibble out of it. Another thing Kageyama noticed is that Hinata's writing supplies were kept in a cylindrical pencil case that was shaped like a long tan colored dog… From what Kageyama could see from across the classroom, it looked furry, and upon further observation that assumption seemed to ring true as Hinata had a tendency to "pet" it from its bread shaped head to its stubby tail every time he zipped it open or closed.
On one particular night Kageyama realized that this oddity (the whole observation thing because Hinata being the sole proprietor was obviously a coincidence) was out of hand. They had just locked in their place for Nationals after defeating Shirotorizawa. He and Hinata stayed behind to practice drills, both too fired up and antsy to call it a night. It was slight, but Kageyama was sure there was something different about the bouncing boy ever since their victory against Ushiwaka.
The more Kageyama took stock of the boy, the more he realized that he evolved with every game they played. He was like an ever morphing machine, constantly turning gears and pumping out steam. He wondered if he himself was transforming alongside him, and that thought irked him a bit.
This development was always reflected in the way Hinata carried himself around the court: a silent maturity demonstrated by the way he continued to hold his head a little taller than he had previously, though Kageyama supposed anyone who defeated The Wakatoshi Ushijima would stand just a bit taller. Regardless of the rhyme or reason, Kageyama couldn't keep his eyes off the Middle Blocker throughout practice nor their solitary sets afterwards.
It seemed the shrimp felt the same as they both locked eyes throughout the evening well into the night, both smiling, eyes ablaze with determination and a flicker of an unnamed emotion. Of course, Kageyama pushed it out of his mind and focused on his tosses. Wordless nods and shakes of the head commented on whether a particular set was good or not. They pointed at the ball and net with their eyes, the brief eye contact punctuated their conversations and ignited a faint hum that throbbed at the base of Kageyama’s spine. He drifted, mind empty, as his body moved autonomously between sets; the companionable silence settled warmly around them and a charged energy filled the spaces between.
By the time they wobbled back to the locker rooms they were about as stinky and gross as sweaty high school boys could be. They both cleaned up in a daze, body weak from the long day and hours of exercise. It was when Kageyama, zombified beyond belief, attempted to stick his arm sluggishly through its corresponding hole in his t-shirt that he noticed it. It was a warm scent, mostly sweet with a slight musk — like a forest soaked by light rainfall. It smelled pretty good and he closed his eyes, inhaling the calming aroma, his body lax from the combination of the scent and lingering heat from the shower.
He hooked his hands into the neck to sling the shirt over his head, when around the corner of lockers walked his traffic cone colored teammate. The smell grew in intensity as he approached, towel around his neck one arm using it to rub at his locks which were dripping onto the floor and running rivulets down his body. Kageyama, sporting a full flush, turned back toward his respective locker so fast he felt dizzy. He took another deep breath to steel himself and oh, that was a mistake. His heart picked up pace as the warm forest rain morphed into a tsunami that bulldozed his senses.
Somehow the room felt overwhelming as the clean scent of body wash and the heat radiating from the boy next to him churned his insides. The space between them felt too close, yet too far. He gulped and shut his eyes, slamming his locker door, opting to ignore the squeak of surprise from the boy behind him. Kageyama snatched up his gym bag in a rush to escape the heat of the room.
He was halfway around the row of lockers when Hinata spoke up "Ah — Kageyama," Kageyama froze in his tracks and glanced out of the corner of his eye. "Do you wanna stop by Ukai's on the way home?" The pipsqueak continued, eyes trained on the towel now being wrung in between his hands. Kageyama eyed a droplet traversing from his jaw down his neck, settling in the crook of his collarbone. The pit in his stomach clenched and Kageyama tightened his fist around his bag strap in response.
"I should probably…." Kageyama’s voice broke so he cleared it, floundering to dodge the request. He averted his gaze back toward the doors to the gym, willing the ridiculous amount of blood in his face to redistribute to the rest of his traitorous body.
"It'll be really fast!" Hinata insisted, "Promise." Kageyama sighed in exasperation. He didn't have to answer as Hinata knew what that meant. The spiker perked up, digging further into his locker to pull out a shirt. Kageyama eyed the droplets pearling down the expanse of Hinata's sparsely spotted shoulders and —
Kageyama clenched his teeth and stomped out the double doors, throwing a gruff "I'll be waiting outside" behind him.
✦✧⭑⭒✧✦
Hinata chirped nonstop on the way to Ukai's conbini. Kageyama was still on edge and flustered from…. whatever that was in the locker room. He walked alongside the short boy, tense from head to toe, offering nothing more than short affirming noises. They were greeted by the clerk who worked nights for Ukai, and Hinata waved back. Kageyama followed the boy as he prattled on and on about the teams they'd be facing at Nationals and cool moves that went " Don " and " Fuwa!!! ".
It wasn't until the raven haired teen almost ran over his orange teammate that he was brought out of his reverie. Kageyama jolted back, the glowingly familiar scent of petrichor wafting up from Hinata's freshly washed hair ( fluffy his mind supplied unhelpfully). His blush bloomed across his cheeks in betrayal.
"No way…." With Hinata's back to him, Kageyama could see his shoulders contract as the shrimp clutched the straps of his backpack (as Kageyama definitely did not notice he did often).
Kageyama cleared his throat, "Wha — "
"I can't believe…." Hinata's small frame shook and Kageyama panicked. Why was he panicking? He reached forward to turn the Middle Blocker around when with just a thread of space between them, Hinata leaned forward and away. The redhead slammed his tanned arms on top of the metal display which creaked in protest at the dramatic force. His upper body vibrated in excitement.
"These !!!" he exclaimed.
Kageyama slouched to lean around the small boy and see what he was referring to. The glass case the sun kissed idiot was drooling over displayed a variety of buns and breads. The case was “HOT!!” as the warnings along each side informed them. The row in which Hinata seemed to be jazzed about was what looked like a new selection of…. meat buns? Pork buns. Kageyama curled his lip in disgust, he did not want to know how long they had been incubating for.
"I cannot believe Ukai started selling pork buns! No way, no way !!"
He whipped his head back around to beam at the Setter, shoulders shaking and eyes gleaming in excitement. Close. Their noses were practically touching — Kageyama swallowed and bolted upright, feeling the irritatingly familiar flush as his blood ran hot at their previous proximity. As he straightened automatically, he hit his head on the display jutting out from the case which further outlined "New!!" pointing directly where the two athletes stood. That definitely knocked sense into him as his heart stilled significantly and his cheeks dulled to a soft warmth.
"I didn't think you liked them so much?" He glared at the offensive sign, guiding the conversation away from whatever the hell was happening to his psyche.
Hinata blew out a thin breath at that "Dummyamaaa," He groaned, "everyone knows pork buns are far superior to literally any other source of carb or protein." He lifted a brow as if this fact was widely known and accepted.
"Well I've never had one." Kageyama muttered indignantly.
"WHAT!?“ Hinata all but practically screamed. Kageyama startled, thankful that the only other person in the vicinity to witness the idiot's outburst was the clerk who was face deep in his iPhone.
"They're literally to die for! The soft steamed dumpling outside with the shredded spiced pork inside…." his hands made grabbing motions, twitching as they hovered at elbow height. "They're good for your diet! They're easy to pick up and they're easy to eat! They're a perfect meal for literally any occasion. They. Are. Perfection."
He sighed dramatically and turned to press his nose against the glass in longing. That was until the redhead withdrew with a hiss not a second later as the glass, which had been sitting at who knows how hot for who knows how long, singed him. The tension in the raven haired teen dissipated at that. Kageyama snickered at the shorter's misfortune to which Hinata, red nosed and cheeks puffed, pouted at him and motioned to the clerk to order some to go.
And by some pork buns, he meant that Hinata had bought all of them. Kageyama couldn't say he was surprised, but he couldn't help but pick at him regardless.
"You know there’ll probably be more in the morning. You'll get a stomach ache if you plan to finish them all tonight. Though I suppose you're used to that, huh?" He smirked at the shrimp in good humor.
"I could eat all these and be perfectly fine, thank you." said shrimp huffed with his burnt nose turned up in defiance. Kageyama’s heart swelled at the gesture. He felt fuzzy with the familiar bickering, his smirk softened a bit at the edges.
"Uh huh, sure." Without thinking, Kageyama hunched over to poke the button of Hinata's nose. Hinata swatted his hand away, the apples of his cheeks red from the crisp night air, twitching in an attempt not to crack into a smile. Kageyama withdrew his hand reluctantly.
"Besides, I was gunna give Natsu some.... And if you want one it's fine too."
Hinata's lips twisted into an odd shape at that last line of thought, reminiscent of the expression the volleyball nerd wore during their English Exam. Kageyama froze, his hand hovering between them at his own line of thought.
"Here, Dummyama," he dug in the plastic bag, handing over a paper pouch that had two meat buns in it. Kageyama took it and turned it in his hands at a loss for words.
This kind of gesture was…. new. He didn't really know how to navigate it. A couple beats of silence fell between them as they both stared at the white paper wrapping as if it were a particularly complicated puzzle. Kageyama opened his mouth to give thanks before Hinata cut him off.
"Ya know, you've been kinda weird lately." He said simply. Kageyama looked up at that. Hinata's brows were pinched, eyes trained on the pork bun in Kageyama's hands while his mouth moved minutely as if chewing on his words.
"Like…." he paused as he prepared to think out loud, "You already suck at conversation and stuff. You've been even more…. quiet and reserved I guess. No, that's not right…" He scratched his head in thought.
"Ugh ." He looked Kageyama straight in the eye, stomping his foot in mild annoyance.
"I can't put my finger on it! But I can tell! Whatever it is — it's not like you, ya know?? Usually you're super annoying! You're constantly picking on me and giving me critique that I don't even ask for. But recently you've been quiet?? Not quiet, but, like — distant? Like your mind is elsewhere! But not volleyball elsewhere cause when you're in that mood you have this creepy smile on your face, but not like elsewhere like you're daydreaming. It's like you're bothered by something and keep thinking of it! and…. and you're not as annoying the last few weeks and it's weird!"
Hinata huffed at his own rambling and pinched his brows in consideration at his own words, looking back down to the paper wrapped pastry.
"I just can tell, okay?" he huffed. "If something's wrong or you need to talk, ya know I — we are always here for you, right?" His teeth picked at his chapped lips, hands crinkling the plastic bag of pork buns as he chanced one last glance towards Kageyama.
Kageyama's heart squeezed the moment their eyes connected. The contact sent a shock up his spine and wiped out any train of thought he had to reply to Hinata's worries. It only lasted a breath before Hinata averted his eyes back down as he opened the plastic bag to fish a meat bun out for himself.
"But not like homework, okay? You are on your own for that." He bit into the pastry and chewed, turning his head to seemingly gaze down the street, his ears tinged pink, bitten from the crisp October breeze. Kageyama watched the steam rise and curl from the meat bun. He was never good with words even before whatever was happening to him these past few weeks.
Without a clue as to what an appropriate response would be, he reached out to ruffle Hinata's hair in an attempt to reassure him. Hinata made a muffled noise of surprise as the heavy hand mussed his hair. Kageyama's mind unhelpfully pointed out how soft the strands were between his fingers. The increasingly familiar scent of rain, wood, and honey wafted between them. Hinata's gaze lightened at the gesture, his mouth smiling regardless of how stuffed full of pork bun it was.
"I'm fine, stupid." He assured, snatching his hand back and placing it safely in his jacket pocket. It felt heavier. He tightened his grip and tried to shake off the weird thoughts, feeling a bit self conscious. Hinata rolled his eyes upward, unconvinced.
"If you say so." He mumbled, mouth full and spitting pork debris into the air between them.
Kageyama soured at that, throwing a disgusted look in response. He was about to tell him how he really shouldn't talk with his mouth full when he spotted a piece of food moving in tandem with Hinata’s chewing. When that seemed to be the end of that conversation, Hinata finished his meat bun and unceremoniously wiped his hands on his jeans. He gathered his bike and waved goodbye. Kageyama offered his own farewells as the boy slung his leg up and over and onto his bike. Kageyama’s eyes honed on the corner of the teenaged toddler’s mouth in mild confusion. He contemplated that shredded piece of pork over and over all the way home.