Chapter Text
On the bus to the Olympic village, Kageyama Tobio dreamed of Rio 2016. He remembered the stadium lights, the stands full of fans shouting in all languages. Coach Hibarida clapped him on the back as he stepped onto the court, his first Olympic court at 19 and as a pinch server and he imagined himself as Yamaguchi who had turned the tides of countless games and in this match, that would be him, he would make this rotation last forever, he would stay on this court for another point, and another point after that...
Time sped up. Warm lights. Sweat beading along his temples. The sting of the ball. The ball blowing past his ear and smashing off the ground. He was out. In. Out. Finished.
Dream Tobio didn't know how the numbers changed from 19-21 in set 1 to 22-25 in set 4. Dream Tobio only stared at that board and felt. He felt defeat, he felt it was over so soon; the faces of his teammates swam past his eyes, and from the depths of his chest he felt.
He felt empty, and he was ready to be filled.
"Oi, Tobio-kun. We're here."
A touch on his arm. It was warm, firm. Nice. Tobio's senses left the court and landed him in his seat, arms folded, his head nestled on Atsumu's shoulder.
"Ah. Already?"
It was a dumb question. The bus had stopped, and the Japan national volleyball team crowded the aisle. In the front, Hinata and Bokuto pumped their fists and high-fived each other, and behind them Aran leaned away to avoid any stray arms. As soon as Hinata's orange head disappeared out the door, the guy somehow got even louder.
"Woahh!!! It's the Village! The Village!!"
"Ha ha! This is your first time, eh? Since you were my disciple, it's only right that I show you the ropes!"
Aran's response was fainter. "This is your first time in this Village too!"
Atsumu stretched in the aisle as Tobio grabbed his bag. "Man, I'm so glad Aran-kun is here. Ha, how do you just tap out like that?" he drawled as Tobio yawned. "Ya sleep enough at home."
Tobio shrugged. He didn't know how other people stayed awake, with the white noise hum of the engine, the lights streaming past, the steady vibrations through the seat. Atsumu's breathing, too, how it made his shoulder lilt up and down in gentle waves, and the fresh smell of his shirt.
They grabbed their bags and joined their teammates in the aisle. Tobio ducked his head as he exited the bus and joined the circle of volleyball players, Coach Hibarida facing them from the head.
"Welcome, Japan men's national team, to the Olympic Village. It's 5pm now. You have the dorm building and assignments. Get settled in, and meet at the west entrance of the dorm at 7:30, and we'll walk to the stadium together."
"Yes, coach!" they chorused.
The players had three rooms with four beds each available to them. Sakusa, Ushijima, Komori, and Yaku claimed the first after hardly looking at it, leaving the rest to crowd into the next room. The second was identical to the first, with a white bed in each corner and some simple furniture. Matters quickly descended into chaos.
"Whoa, this bed really is made of cardboard!" Hoshiumi said while ripping off the bedding.
"This bed looks a little short," Hyakuzawa muttered in some concern.
"Ha! You tall people think everyone should accommodate you all the time?"
"I'm sure they have accommodations for tall athletes," Aran pointed out. "This is the Olympics."
"That's right!" said Hinata. "It's a normal bed!"
Tobio's eyes went from Hyakuzawa down to Hinata. "That's because you're short."
"Kageyama!!"
Eventually they agreed they needed to test this out, so soon Japan's Olympic representatives for men's volleyball gathered to stare at Hyakuzawa lying down on the stripped twin-sized bed. His head and feet hung off either end.
Half the team cracked up.
"Hahaha! You look ridiculous!"
Hoshiumi punched Hakuba's arm. "Hey Gao, now you try it!"
"It'll just be the same thing!"
He looks like nigiri, Tobio thought.
The door opened to reveal Sakusa and Ushijima. "Have none of you decided on the remaining rooms yet?" Sakusa asked with a voice that Tobio guessed was irritated. "And why are you stripping the bed? It's been sanitized."
Ushijima considered Hyakuzawa. "That bed doesn't fit you. You should request an extension."
"Huh? What are those?"
Aran waved his phone. "The QR code has all the information. Hey Gao, you don't need to test another bed! Bokuto, why are you jumpin' on yer bed? Are ya tryin' to break it in?"
"Did you hear about how these beds are anti-sex?!" Bokuto exclaimed, his jumping uninterrupted. "I think these will do fine, though!"
"Whaa?? Lemme try!"
"How is jumping on it gonna prove anything?!" Aran yelled.
"Hey Kourai, you only need half your bed. Let me put the other half against my bed and I'll use it."
"Oh Gao, you're gonna need another bed all right, a hospital bed—"
"I'm tellin' you, just request extensions! It's right here—"
"Atsumu-san?"
Atsumu paused some explanation involving a sock. "Eh? What's up, Tobio-kun?"
"I want to room with you."
"Yeah, of course."
"If we push the beds together and sleep diagonally, it should make it long enough to sleep well."
"Oi," said Aran, "I'm tellin' ya, you can request extensions. It's easy."
"Hehe Tobio-kun, don't just talk about our sleeping arrangements in public. People will get jealous."
"None of us feel jealous."
"It's just sort of gross."
Atsumu smirked. "Tell yourselves that."
"I don't mind!" Bokuto piped up. "Affection is a wonderful thing."
The door clicked as Sakusa left.
It was funny how different Tokyo felt to Rio—not just the tang in the air, the colors, and the heat, but the anticipation thrumming in his veins. Alternate setter Tobio of 19 years old had stood in the back of the Japan team of twelve and hoped to play. Today, with this team, with his team, setter Kageyama Tobio hoped to win.
The speakers turned on. Japan's turn in the Parade of Nations. Tobio stepped into the Olympic Stadium flanked by red and white. Bright lights, empty stands. In front of them was France. Tobio liked the colors of France, the way they organized themselves into red, white, and blue columns.
Hinata bounced with excitement beside him. Somehow Hinata always knew how to wear what Tobio felt. Sometimes the guy worried over nothing, but today Hinata's eyes were afire, matching the vivid stadium lights reflecting through his hair and white suit.
"Is that a camera? Hi Mom! Hi Natsu!" (Again Kageyama remembered how loud Hinata was.) "Kageyama! We're at the Olympics! Only the best athletes in the whole world are here, and we're one of them!"
Tobio didn't know why Hinata kept rediscovering this fact. "Duh." He threw him a smirk. "I told you we were going to meet at the top of the world."
"Hehe. We made it."
Yeah, we did. "Dumbass, I was already here."
"Did you see anyone you recognize yet?! Hey, is that lady posing at the camera that famous US beach player?! I can't tell from here, and with that mask."
It hadn't occurred to Tobio to look for people he recognized, but he sparkled at the thought. "Maybe Maxwell Adams is there."
"We just saw all the volleyball players last year," Atsumu drawled. "And in a few days, we're gonna beat all of 'em."
"We didn't get to play Oikawa-san yet," Hinata pointed out. "Argentina was one of the first ones in, right? Wonder where they are?"
Tobio straightened, as if the name were a candle and Hinata had put his hand to it. It wasn't that the mention surprised him—Oikawa had never left the landscape, even before he became starting setter for San Juan and the Argentinian national team. Rather, the response had been ingrained ever since Tobio saw the man's spike in middle school: Oikawa Tooru. Pay attention.
"Oh, that's Kahgyama's setter senpai!" Bokuto said, even though he had played in the world championship match against Argentina.
Even Sakusa chimed in. "He has a strong serve..."
"Can't be stronger than my serve," Atsumu grumbled.
"Argentina will be even stronger here," Ushijima added. "As will the other countries. Everyone will be using their best lineup."
Tobio nodded. In volleyball, the game to win was the Olympics. Other tournaments were taken seriously, but also used as an opportunity to train the less experienced players. Just due to lineup choices, few here had played against Oikawa the Argentinian setter.
Hinata had always been good with words, and now was no different. "We're gonna be playing against the strongest teams in the world. I can't wait."
This was a Hinata Tobio knew well, one that sent chills, one that lit blazes. In middle school Tobio had seen this hitter under the surface, and finally he was here.
They would win this year. Even against Oikawa Tooru.
DAY 2
While the rest of the team watched the women's match, Atsumu practiced with Tobio in the warm-up gym, with Tobio receiving Atsumu's serves.
In. Out. Received. Out. Out.
Tobio watched another serve smash out of bounds, then looked back to Atsumu questioningly. "You're not focusing well. It's okay since I'm starting tomorrow, but you have to be your usual self for the game after."
It was amazing how Tobio's attempts to be polite could actually be so much ruder.
"Hey, Tobio-kun, don't look down on me. I ain't a chump who lets a loss get in the way of the next win." Focus. Four steps from the serving line. Really really focus.
Jump, hit. Tobio received, but at least not cleanly.
Tobio frowned. "You're... But I think you're angry."
"Yeah! I am angry!" Atsumu gestured for them to take a break and continued complaining on the way to the benches outside. "Ya know, from what you told me, I did expect you to be worried about this old upperclassman of yours, but not all of Miyagi!"
Yesterday, fresh from their loss to Poland, Team Japan watched the afternoon match of Brazil vs. Argentina. Now, the teams were ranked 1 and 4, and Japan had a history of losing to both, so Japan should be wary, yeah, but listening to the Miyagi players talk about it was torture. What a good set from Oikawa-san, Shouyou said as if Shouyou wasn't getting amazing sets all the time from Atsumu. Ushijima fixated on Oikawa's apparently big brain use of Argentina's rookie Matias Delgado. Even Hajime had been riding the Oikawa train, and there's just something so treasonous about your team's trainer rooting for another team.
What about their awesome libero, Kiyoomi asked. What about their all-around star hitter Carrera, added Hoshiumi. What about Brazil, the number one team in the world? No no, Miyagi didn't care about that. It was Oikawa this, Oikawa that.
The worst of them was Tobio.
"Oikawa-san's strong," said Tobio. "With him as their setter, Argentina will be a different team."
Ugh, there he goes again. "You can say that about any setter." Atsumu sprawled onto a metal bench, pausing his reply to aggressively suck his water bottle. "I'm gonna ask ya this straight. Are you sayin' yer gonna lose? 'Cause I'm not gonna let Coach put a loser on the court, even if it's you."
Tobio pressed his lips, but before he could reply, his eyes caught onto some athletes approaching the gym. Atsumu followed his gaze to see none other than the infamous ex-pat himself.
Oikawa Tooru wasn't that handsome, with his shit-brown overworked hair and matching shit-brown eyes and shit-eating smirk. His height was unimpressive, landing him between Hajime on his right and Delgado, Argentina's 5, on his left. Atsumu returned Oikawa's head-tilt and leer with his own.
"Kageyama, Miya," Hajime greeted, blinking in surprise. "I thought everyone went to watch the women's match."
Atsumu shrugged. "And I thought Argentina had its own trainer. What, Argentina prefers ours?"
Oikawa's smile was bright and treacly. "Yoohoo, Tobio-chan. Long time no see. And this must be the other setter on Japan, nice to meet you, I'm Oikawa Tooru. Hmm, looks like nobody told you that Iwa-chan and I are best friends. That's too bad, to be out of the loop on your own team."
Yes, beating this man was going to be very, very sweet.
Hajime elbowed Oikawa. "Oi."
Tobio gave a careful, almost apprehensive nod. "Hello, Oikawa-san. Delgado-san."
Delgado returned a more openly flustered nod. "Ohayo, Kageyama. San."
"What are you three practicing?" Atsumu asked. "Spiking form?"
"Something like that," replied Oikawa. "What about you? Ah, if it's just you two, it's probably serving and receiving, huh? Want me to join? It's probably boring with just you two."
Tobio's face illustrated an internal battle, and the winner ended up being his volleyball side. "You want to join?"
"Maybe. After all, we're not in the same pool. If you keep playing like you did yesterday, we might not get another chance to play together in these games."
Tobio scowled. "We're going to advance to the quarterfinals."
"You have to win to advance, Tobio-chan. Tomorrow you're playing Iran, right? You better make sure to win that one. If you still need help from your senpai, well, you know how to get it."
"No thanks." All eyes turned to Atsumu, even Delgado who clearly didn't understand this conversation. Atsumu smiled. "We're doing just fine. You should focus on your own game. You're 0-1 as well."
"Me and Tobio-chan are just catching up. Oh, sorry, you must be feeling left out."
"Hey, Shittykawa—"
"Not at all. I'm aaall caught up. Ah." Atsumu shook his bottle. "It's empty. Tobio-kun, could you refill it for me?"
"? Okay." When Tobio leaned in and grabbed the bottle, Atsumu took the opportunity to ruffle his hair. "Thanks, Tobio-kun. Also could you get me the chips I like from the machine?"
Tobio grumbled a bit, but didn't shrug off the touch. "What's with you today?"
"Just feelin' tired, also thinkin' you're real cute."
"Do you need Iwaizumi-san to look at you?"
"I'll be fine. But I'll feel better if you can get me the chips. Please?"
Tobio looked like he was about to say no, but Atsumu used some puppy eyes and made a show of wiping his brow, so Tobio just puckered his lips and headed off to the vending machines.
"Thank you, Tobio~" Atsumu called after him. As Tobio turned the corner, Atsumu looked back at Oikawa with a most smug expression.
Oikawa tutted. "Making Tobio-chan do your bidding like that is a bad look, Mr. Fox."
Iwaizumi sideeyed Oikawa. "Hearing you say those words is sort of irritating. Look Miya, we'll go ahead and start warming up. If all of us do practice together, great, but let's not pick any fights, and in the Olympic Village of all places."
"Aw Iwa-chan, who said we're starting any—ow! That hurt! Aren't you an athletic trainer? You should be treating me gently!"
"Honestly, haven't you grown up at all since you left—"
Delgado gave such a confused bow Atsumu almost felt sorry for him. "Chau."
Tobio hurried back with the water bottle and chips, and Atsumu was going to assume he hurried for Atsumu the World's Most Amazing Boyfriend and not because he was that eager to see Oikawa again. Tobio glanced around. "Did the others go in already?"
"Yeah. Thanks." Atsumu opened the chips as Tobio sat next to him. "...By the way, you never answered my question."
"About—whether I'm expecting to lose?"
"Yeah. And, so we're clear, ya don't wanna play a game like that, but it's okay if ya feel that way now. I know that that guy had a big influence on you." Even if he really shouldn't. But Atsumu kept that to himself, because Tobio's face went still, save the small scrunch of his brow and a petite pull of his lips. It was Tobio's thinking face.
It was a clear day, and though the gym's awning spared the bench the summer heat, Atsumu's shoes started to broil under the sun. Atsumu ate his chips as he watched sweat bead on Tobio's temples unnoticed. Behind them gym shoes squeaked incessantly between the hollow echoes of smacked balls, and in the distance Atsumu thought he heard some speakers, their words too faint to make out the game. Suddenly Tobio glanced at him, thinking apparently done. Funny how his eyes glowed even more in the shade.
"I'm looking forward to playing against Oikawa-san. It's fun to play against strong people. I don't know if I expect to lose. But I worry I will?" Tobio's eyes dropped. "Because when I play against other people, I feel ... I think, 'I want to catch up to them, I'm going to learn what they do.' I feel that way when I watch Oikawa-san, but when I played against him, sometimes—sometimes I thought, 'Maybe I can't learn that, maybe I'm broken.' I haven't felt that way in a long time."
"That's ancient history, ya know. You don't need to remember high school, not about him or you."
"Mm. True. Atsumu-san doesn't remember anything."
"Oi."
"I admire that about you." Tobio lifted his head to him. "I look up to Oikawa-san. And I really look up to you, too."
Atsumu grinned over the lip of his water bottle. "Then watch me closely. I'll show you why I'm the best setter, in high school and now."
Miya Atsumu had always paid little attention to all the press that had called him the best setter of this and that category. If he was the best, he'd prove it during the game. If he didn't prove it, he would practice harder and prove it next time. But now Atsumu felt the urge, just a little, to remind Tobio that however good this Oikawa was, Atsumu was probably better.
DAY 3
We have to win against Iran. We need to win this. I cannot screw this up. Hyakuzawa Yuudai found these words less motivating than stressing.
A year ago, a lifetime ago, Yuudai had been ecstatic about making JNT. And he had had no nerves about playing in the other international competitions—well, not no nerves, but a manageable amount of nerves, the sort of nerves that made you just a little more alert and push yourself just a little harder, the kind that melted once the game rolled in earnest. But this was the Olympics, and he and Hakuba were the only middle blockers. If he had an off-game, there wasn't a replacement.
Somewhere between the loss to Poland and the current game against Iran, Yuudai wondered if he wasn't just having an off-game. His spikes kept getting blocked or bumped. His reactions were all over the place, and he kept jumping a bit too early or too late. The worst moments were those seconds after he jumped, suspended in the air with nothing to do but reflect on his mistakes.
After the set ended, he still felt himself hanging there, unable to move forward.
The team quickly made over to the bench, guzzling water as the coach went over some quick adjustments for the next set. Yuudai stole a glance over at Hinata, who was listening with clear eyes, bouncing on his feet with visible eagerness. This was Hinata's first time at the Olympics too, but he played every bit as well as Kageyama, a true star who'd made the team at age 19.
"Hyakuzawa." Yuudai glanced over at Coach Hibarida. "Did you catch that?"
"Yes, thank you, coach." Yuudai's lips pressed. There was nothing unkind in the coach's demeanor, but Yuudai couldn't help thinking that if Team Japan had brought a reserve middle blocker, then he'd have been subbed out yesterday. "S-sorry, I know I haven't been doing well so far."
"Don't worry about it," Hibarida reassured. "Every athlete gets Olympic jitters, and it's your first time."
Not Hinata, Yuudai thought with a twinge of envy. Then again, Hinata Shouyou had shown up uninvited to a training camp, and not only got to stay but impressed Washijo enough that the coach later hooked him up with volleyball training in Brazil. He wasn't sure if Hinata had ever truly been nervous in his life.
If Hibarida noticed Yuudai's disbelief, he didn't say anything, instead migrating over to have a quiet word with Kageyama, which left Hinata free to talk to.
"Hey, Hinata," Yuudai began. "Uh. You're playing really well."
"Eh? Yeah, did you see that spike I did that one time? I threaded it right through!"
Yuudai offered a weak smile. "Y—yeah, it was great. Er, I was wondering how you, uh, make yourself not nervous?"
"Oh." Hinata thought about it as he drank some more water. "I guess I haven't really been nervous? I'm just really excited! I mean, it's the Olympics!"
Kageyama's flat voice interrupted. "You got completely strung out before a game in high school. You'd go to the bathroom five or six times before a game."
"Well, yeah, I did do that. But you know, that was high school. After all those visits to the bathroom, the fear's been flushed out of me..."
Hinata's face somehow looked exactly like the face of someone recalling memorable incidents in bathrooms. The break ended with few answers, and the next set began.
Rankings only indicated which team was consistently the best. The best team of the day, the hour, could be any of them. Yuudai kept his eyes on the players across the court and tried to think of them as merely human. He watched the ball and tried to shake the feeling that Iran's setter knew where Yuudai would think the ball would go, the feeling that Iran's libero knew where he would spike it. Even with Hibarida's suggestions, they were barely hanging on. 7-8. 10-9. 14-16. Yuudai jumped and jumped and jumped. The collar of his jersey soaked with sweat. Iran's serve, and Komori returned it as a B-pass. Kageyama set to Yuudai and Yuudai tried to tip it over the blockers, but the libero got it easily.
"A great defense from Iran—a spike down the middle for the point!"
14-17.
The point dropped like a rock in Yuudai's stomach. Why had he tipped that ball? He supposed—he supposed he thought he couldn't spike it, even though that was crazy, because he could hit any ball, and Kageyama could set any ball. A tip just seemed safer.
Can we win the Olympics by playing safe?
Do I deserve to be on the team if I do?
The next rally went to Japan after the blockers fell for Hinata's decoy slide. That man never hesitated—that's what an Olympian should be. And it was fine. It was good, actually. Yuudai was just having an off-day. Kageyama didn't seem to have picked up on that, so all Yuudai had to do was tell the setter—
"Hyakuzawa."
Yuudai turned to Kageyama. Kageyama always had this air of being vaguely pissed, and Yuudai braced himself for criticism.
What Kageyama said was, "You're hitting my next set, so get ready."
"Uh—"
Kageyama went back to position, hands behind his head as he waited for the serve. Damn, if Yuudai argued with him now, the opposing team would hear and might figure out what they were up to. Best to just concentrate on the approach. Make sure to get the distance, watch the ball...
The rally started. Just like that, the ball went towards Iran's setter. Where next? Yuudai's body tracked it before his brain did, and he jumped with the hitter across from him. The hitter smashed it through him and Hinata and it rocketed off Yaku. Kageyama was already sprinting for it. It was a seriously awkward dig, should Yuudai be ready to just send it over? No, this was Kageyama. If he said he'd set for Yuudai, then Yuudai better do his part.
Yuudai backed up, started to run. Kageyama's hands reached for the ball. Yuudai felt the thrust of his muscles against the ground as he launched himself into the air, and already the ball arced gently towards him, ready to be smashed. He'd be above the blockers, he could see it—
Hyakuzawa slammed the ball into the open court floor, as if the other side were empty.
"16-17!" the announcers crowed as the team pounced on Yuudai. "Japan won back those points in a blink of an eye!"
"Awesome hit!" Hinata yelled.
Yuudai chuckled. "Ah, yeah, it was lucky..."
Bokuto slapped his back (way too hard). "Haha what?! Keep practicing it then, until you know it isn't luck!"
"Bokuto-san's right," said Kageyama. "I'm going to give you lots of opportunities to practice."
Yuudai felt like he'd signed a deal with the devil.
In the next rallies, Yuudai jumped. And ran. And jumped. Holy hell, he jumped so much. Kageyama made do on his promise to let Yuudai practice, and Yuudai realized how insane Hinata was for jumping like this pretty much every rally. There wasn't even time to think about a previous hit anymore, the moment his feet hit the ground it was either time to start blocking or making an approach.
The rest of the game flew by. They never recovered from the bad start, and despite close sets, Iran won 3-1. As the team did their cooldowns, Hibarida pulled him aside.
"How did you feel about your performance in that last set?"
"We lost..." Yuudai began. Hibarida raised an eyebrow and patiently held this wry expression as Yuudai took a drink from his water bottle. "I did better there than the first set," he admitted. "And the second set. I just...I wish I'd played like that from the beginning. Then we would have won. Iran's a team we were counting on beating to advance."
Hibarida grinned. "I thought you were great at the end, too. Without those first sets, you wouldn't have been that player we saw. The timing got easier, right?"
"Y-yeah. I got more used to it, so I was able to relax."
"Good. I want you to remember that feeling going forward. Confidence is like any other emotion. The more you feel it, the easier it is to remember it."
"Yes, coach. Oh," Yuudai added, catching Hibarida mid-turn. "Thank you, coach. For asking Kageyama to keep passing to me." Hibarida stared amiably at him. "B-because I saw you tell Kageyama..."
"Ah? Ah." The corner of Hibarida's mouth turned up. "You know, why don't you ask Kageyama-kun what I told him?"
Hibarida, left practically whistling. Yuudai blinked, now curious to know despite this would involve talking to Kageyama. It wasn't that Kageyama was (deliberately) mean, but he was honestly even harder to talk to than Miya Atsumu. Miya could say some pretty wild things, but he at least responded. A conversation with Kageyama would die before you even realized it happened, and you were left wondering if that void of silence in the end was actually a void of 19-year-old-Olympian-Silently-Judges-National-Team-Rookie.
"Hey, Hyakuzawa!" Hoshiumi punched him in the side. "We'll get 'em next time!"
Komori chimed in. "Yeah, good game!"
"Thanks, guys..." Yuudai offered a smile as his eyes searched for Kageyama. Naturally, the setter was arguing with Hinata about something again, both apparently done stretching. Why don't you ask him? Yuudai waited on it. And waited. Now they all headed back towards the dorms. Once Bokuto pulled Hinata away, Yuudai slid in next to Kageyama. Nothing to it. If this was going to go badly, the coach wouldn't have told him to do it.
"Uh, Kageyama-san?"
Kageyama turned to him.
Yuudai cleared his throat. "What, uh, did the coach tell you? At the end of the second set, when he pulled you aside?"
Kageyama tipped his head. "...Oh. Coach Hibarida told me to make sure we win the next game."
Thump. After that hellish game, Yuudai barely recognized the sound as his heart rather than another ball. "So you...threw this match?"
Kageyama shot him a look of complete offense. "No. We could have won this match. I only set to people who can score. Now you also know you can. Right?"
And maybe it was because he was staring at Kageyama so much, but Yuudai thought the man's eyes widened with genuine question about whether Yuudai had picked up this fact that seemed so obvious to the two-time Olympian, the fact that Hyakuzawa Yuudai could play here, too. Yuudai bit his lower lip, thankful that his mask hid it. "Yeah, I...yeah, we're going to win next time."
Kageyama's blunt voice held no doubt. "Yeah."
DAY 8
Being in a relationship meant that sometimes you had to make sacrifices. For Atsumu, that sacrifice was getting up at the ungodly hour of 7:30am, because the Karasuno cuckoos finished their morning jog by then and could not wait one more second to have breakfast. Now, Atsumu wasn't some sort of clingy boyfriend that needed to do everything with Tobio or was jealous that Tobio would be eating with Shouyou all the time, but he wasn't going to stand for the possibility that Tobio's pictures would all be with Shouyou and not Atsumu, and then Atsumu would get texts from Osamu and Miwa teasing him about whether Tobio's moved onto Shouyou, and then once Tobio finally caught wind of it he would rectify the situation by taking lots of pictures of Atsumu, but Tobio took pictures like a grandma, and suddenly the world would be flooded with blurry photos of Atsumu's half-open eyes and everyone would tease Atsumu about them, again.
So Atsumu dragged himself to the dining hall (the duo's offer to carry him there, while tempting, sounded unwise) and slowly woke up over a breakfast of coffee and volleyball talk.
"Atsumu-san, your game yesterday was so good!" Shouyou crowed. "I'm so jealous I didn't get to play!"
"Heh, it was good, wasn't it? 'Course, that's just business as usual."
"Anyone could spike off your sets," Tobio agreed, which never got old, but this time Tobio added, "Sakusa-san seems more comfortable with your sets than mine."
"Huh, that so? What can I say, ya still gotta work up to my level."
"Yeah."
"Kageyama-kun, are you saying you've been beaten?"
"No, shut up." Tobio swiped for Shouyou but only came away with a few locks. "What sort of sets does Sakusa-san like?"
Atsumu slurped the rest of his coffee. "Can't you just ask him?"
"I did. He said, the best one. I do that, but I can tell, he's not as fast on them as he is with your sets."
"Maybe he just likes me more."
"What do you do that Sakusa-san likes?"
Atsumu leered at them as Shouyou smothered a snicker. "Okay, ya don't have any business lookin' that puzzled."
They were bussing their trays when Shouyou, naturally, spotted a person of interest. "Hm? Do you think that guy needs help?"
The two setters followed where Shouyou was pointing. Said guy had their back to them, but he was hunched over his tray in visible distress. Atsumu could tell he was tall, and something about that reddish curly hair was familiar...
Tobio jumped. "That's Maxwell Adams!" he hissed. He had a way of tensing up that made him look like he wanted to beat someone up, but was actually just him vibrating with intense excitement.
"Ahh....oh!!" The lightbulb went off in Shouyou's head. "A US player!" He looked really proud of himself for figuring that out even though the guy's jacket obviously had stars and stripes over it.
"We should talk to him," Tobio gritted through his teeth. "Or maybe. No. Or should..."
"Tobio-kun," Atsumu drawled, "stop fangirling or he's gonna mistake ya for an amateur."
"Let's say hi!" Shouyou dragged Tobio over by his sleeve.
Maxwell Adams was a good setter, but honestly Atsumu didn't see what made him special in Tobio's eyes. His serving and blocking were both average for the Olympic level. Still, Atsumu tagged along, because his boyfriend was excited and he liked to see his boyfriend being cute.
"HELLO!" Shouyou and Tobio yelled in unison. Presumably masks muffled people's voices, but normal rules didn't always apply to the Karasuno duo, and Adams nearly startled out of his seat.
"How are you?" Shouyou asked in English. Once Adams turned to Shouyou, Atsumu understood why the guy had looked so stressed out—his hands were covered in raw egg and egg shell, and so was his food tray. A few splatters on his clothes also placed him in the line of fire.
"Ah, Team Japan! I—sorry, I've got all this egg on me. I don't know why it's raw..."
Atsumu burst out laughing. "The raw eggs are only by the rice! They have them labeled in English, too." He waved in the direction of the bar, the words EGGS (RAW) readable even from this distance.
Adams turned a blotchy red at that. "Oh..."
"It's an easy mistake to make!" Tobio interrupted with a lot more passion than the situation called for. "Languages are hard! It's also hard for me to read Japanese when there's a lot of kanji." This was said half in Japanese, but Adams pretended to understand and nodded along.
"Tamago gohan is the best dish ever!!" Shouyou said. "I can get you another egg so you can try it!!"
"Oh no thank you, I, I'm good thank you no thank you," Adams said politely but very hastily as he napkined egg slime off his hands. "You're, uh, you're Shouyou Hinata. I'm pleased to finally meet you. Tobio Kageyama and Atsumu Miya, of course, good to see you again."
The wattage on Shouyou's face tripled. "!! You know who I am!"
"Of course!" Adam pepped up, like a plant that was watered for the first time that week. "You're so fast, and your vertical is amazing! I watched so many of your Ninja Shouyou videos. I was surprised to see you join the indoor team, but you've been doing even better there, I think!"
"Aw, really? You don't say?" Shouyou asked, rubbing the back of his neck as if there was a switch there that would make him more humble. "Wow, that's so flattering. I really have to thank my mentors..."
Meanwhile Tobio's intense silent stare practically screamed that he wanted to be praised too.
As if on cue, Adams added, "Tobio and Atsumu, too, your ball control is really amazing. Tobio, the way you can set from pretty much anywhere—and Atsumu, I don't think you've ever made a bad set."
Tobio lit up.
Atsumu folded his arms. "Heh, of course not, I'm a setter."
"Japan's videos also get tons of views, you know, your matches, highlight reels, interviews, everything," Adams continued wistfully. "Like, a lot more than the teams before you. It's great that the current Japan team is able to get so much love and support from your country. You know, in the US, they don't really care about indoor volleyball, it's hard to find sponsorships, and sometimes even our families don't really watch our games..." Wow, the atmosphere suddenly turned real gloomy. "...but like, you guys are amazing and have been doing so well! And you all look so good on camera, and in person! It'd be crazy if you weren't all swarmed with fans!"
Shouyou looked psyched. "Do you think so?"
"Definitely! You're crazy charismatic, you know. You always do some great plays, and your interviews are hilarious. I'm so glad you've got fans who translate them all to English, I watch a ton of them."
"Oh, you are too kind..."
Atsumu was starting to think getting Adams to call you charismatic was no particular feat. Off the court, the guy was proving to be as compelling as a scarecrow. Anyway Shouyou and Tobio drank it all up, and by the time they left the egg-soaked Adams they were beaming.
"We're famous, Kageyama! And this is even before we've won gold!"
"Of course players should know the other players, dumbass," Tobio said around his smirk.
"Hmm, maybe I should get some egg on rice, too..."
"You two," Atsumu sighed, "I'm gettin' tired followin' ya."
DAY 9
"Kageyama, to the left."
Tobio's thoughts veered back to the present. The upholstery on the bench was starting to stick to his sweaty back, and the lights above him flooded into his eyes. He shifted his leg to the left per Iwaizumi's instructions, and the trainer held the ankle, moving it around and testing it in that careful way that Tobio had seen Iwaizumi do toto do others, not him.
Iwaizumi let go and helped Tobio up, signaling he was done. "You'll be fine, but we'll have Miya start the next game."
Tobio would prefer to play himself, but he liked watching Atsumu play almost as much. Either way he gave a nod. "Thanks, Iwaizumi-san."
"Just take care of yourself. I haven't seen you overdo it the way you did today before. Don't make it into a habit, or you'll have to miss even more games." Iwaizumi's mouth pressed into a flavor of grimace that reminded Tobio of the first practice game against Seijoh all those years ago, the one where Oikawa with his ankle still healing only joined at the end.
"I didn't overdo it," Tobio pointed out. "I've played plenty of games like that before." Running as hard as he could, jumping as high as possible, leaving nothing in reserve. Despite their win, Tobio didn't feel like their performance as a team had improved after he went all out. A part of him couldn't shake off the feeling that the reason was because he couldn't pull out Sakusa's potential—of course he worked well with the opposite hitters, and Hoshiumi, and Bokuto was just as impressive, and now Hyakuzawa was doing really well. But he was sure that Sakusa was getting stuffed just a little more than he usually did.
"Yeah, back when you were younger. But now that you're getting old, you can't be as reckless as before."
Tobio was about to argue that he wasn't reckless, but instead he said, "I'm not old."
Iwaizumi cleared his throat into his hand. "There was a study that concluded that most volleyball players reach their peak performance at 25. You're 24. I'm not saying you won't improve as a player, but soon you're not going to bounce back from injury the way you used to. So don't go out there trying a bunch of new stuff, all right? I usually don't have to worry about you, let's keep it that way."
The transition between the gym and his nighttime jog happened while his mind turned over Iwaizumi's words. Peak at 25. He was 24. The cool night air blew across Tobio's face. His breathing held steady, in in out out. His feet launched off hard pavement, always forward.
Run and you'll get stronger. Get stronger and you'll get better. Another building passed. Progress. Right now his body was telling him his journey would be endless. But it was Iwaizumi.
"Hey Kageyama." Hoshiumi's voice blared in from the left. Hoshiumi never ran out of breath. "Don't you usually run with Miya at night?"
"Ah. Yeah." It was only a slightly different flavor to run with his old Adlers teammates now instead. "Atsumu-san's busy watching recordings right now."
Ushijima glanced over. "Is he studying for tomorrow's match?"
"Probably not. I didn't tell him he'd be starting." For some reason, Atsumu had gotten it into his head to watch USA matches, even though the knockout setup had them as far away from that team as possible. Quarterfinals would be Poland, and after that would be...
"Best to let him know. Last time we lost in the quarterfinals."
Hoshiumi hmphed. "Well, now I'm here. I bet Poland's looking down on us after we lost to them in the preliminaries. They won't even know what hit them."
"Let's win," Tobio agreed. "Though I'll need to play better in the knockout rounds."
"Huh? I thought Miya was starting... Oh, is this an Oikawa Tooru thing?"
"...Yeah."
"He is formidable," added Ushijima.
"Wakatoshi..."
When it came to Oikawa Tooru, Tobio was never sure whether the anticipation he felt was nerves or excitement. Probably both. But tonight in the wake of a mediocre game and Iwaizumi's words, the former started to win. Kageyama Tobio refused to be the reason Japan didn't medal this year. He couldn't be the one holding his team back anymore, not ever again.
Yet Tobio hadn't solved the puzzle of his hitters yet. If it were Oikawa, he would know what to say to Sakusa, how to set to Sakusa so that he would feel confident in his sets. If it were Atsumu—well, Atsumu's sets simply screamed It's all yours, it was part of what made Atsumu's sets so beautiful, so of course Sakusa would have confidence in those.
"Um, Ushijima-san, Hoshiumi-san," Tobio began. "What does it feel like my sets are saying?"
"What your sets are saying ?" Hoshiumi repeated. One thing Tobio always appreciated about Hoshiumi was how expressive he was; it made him easy to read. Right now Tobio read that Hoshiumi had no idea what Tobio meant.
"What...what impression they give." Did that count as an explanation?
"Hmm, well, they're pretty flashy, since they come from anywhere but all land in the same place. But of course you should be at that level if you wanna keep up with me, so I guess they just give the impression that we work together."
"Oh. Thank you."
Ushijima's response didn't come until they passed the next building. "If I had to answer, your sets say that you are always thinking about the game."
"...Is that good or bad?"
"It's good." A pause. "But I wouldn't know whether prioritizing it that way is the best in all situations."
"Do you think Sakusa-san wants a different kind of set?"
Hoshiumi raised an eyebrow. "This about Sakusa? Why don't you ask him?"
"I did. He said my sets were placed well."
"That's that, then. Don't overthink it, Kageyama. It's the hitter's job to hit his balls best he can. If he wants something changed, then it's his job to tell you."
"....Mm. Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
"You are welcome."
"Wakatoshi, I don't know if you said anything useful."
The atmosphere felt easy. There was a springiness in each of Tobio's steps. As they completed their lap, Tobio glanced over at his Adlers teammates. They were about 26, 27. Past their peak, according to Iwaizumi. And spikers peaked earlier than setters, Tobio knew that at least. The next Olympics would be 2024. 29, 30.
Tobio had not yet imagined a world where he wouldn't keep climbing higher and higher with his teammates. But he found himself saying, "We'll win gold this time."
Silence, save the asynchronous beat of their shoes on the pavement.
"Of course."