Work Text:
As Kageyama approaches the Schweiden Adlers’ training center for the first time, the sight of the doors gives him pause. Tightening his grip on his bag, he allows himself a moment of childish wonder, awed that this is it - he’s finally going to play volleyball on a professional level, with professional players and a professional coach. His grandfather's words float through his mind faintly, and his conviction solidifies.
A cloud somewhere up above moseys away from the sun, and a beam of light strikes Kageyama in the face. This - standing in chilly air and squinting into the harsh morning sunlight - is not a first time thing. This is every early morning for most of his life, the anticipation of being on his way to play volleyball again, and with a familiar excitement thrumming in his veins Kageyama tenses his legs and looks eagerly to his right because I'm going to beat him today - but Hinata isn't there.
His brain misses a step and he loses his balance for a tenth of a second. Of course Hinata isn't here. He's actually the opposite of here, actually, on the other side of the planet, so Kageyama beats him to the gym by default.
Whatever , he grits out internally. I'm going to keep going ahead like normal. That idiot's got to catch up eventually. But when he walks into the arena like a normal person would, it sets in that next morning, every morning for the next week, next month, next year, he's not going to be racing Hinata to the door or anywhere at all, and the aftertaste is sour in his throat.
Once inside, the familiarity of wooden floors grounds Kageyama, resetting his headspace, and the locker room is easy enough to find that he regains his footing without difficulty.
While Kageyama's looking around, acquainting himself with the layout of the room and observing the people who are already there, Hirugami Fukurou walks up and introduces himself as the captain of the team. "I'm glad to have you on board," he says, with an affable grin that starts giving Kageyama flashbacks to his first year at spring nationals. "Here's a locker you can use. Showers are that way, and there's a first aid kit stored over there if you ever need it."
"Thanks, Hirugami-san."
"I know this is your first day, but you'll catch on quickly, so I'm probably not gonna have to hold your hand all throughout practice. And anyways, there's a couple of guys who I'm sure won't mind showing you around a bit."
Kageyama knows what the team's lineup looks like, of course, but it still takes him a moment to realize who Hirugami's talking about. Once he does, one of them is already yelling at him.
"Kageyama!! So Suzaku-san managed to grab you straight out of high school too, huh!?" Hoshiumi, struggling to wrestle himself out of his shirt, is as shrill as ever, sounding both furious and begrudgingly impressed.
"Kageyama Tobio. It is good to see you again. Congratulations on your recruitment." Ushijima pauses in the middle of his own undressing to give Kageyama a polite nod.
"Hey, Hoshiumi-san, Ushijima-san. Thanks," he says awkwardly.
"What are you waiting for?!" shrieks Hoshiumi. "Get changed so I can whoop your ass today!! Don't think I'm gonna go easy on you just 'cause you're a rookie!!"
"I apologize for Hoshiumi's behavior. He has been eagerly awaiting your arrival and is easily excitable, so I hope you will excuse him."
"I'm gonna flatten your 187 centimeters into the dust!!"
True to his word, Hoshiumi does not go easy on Kageyama, not even during warmups. What could have been casual, friendly peppering to get their bodies going becomes hard hits and stinging forearms. Even though it hasn't been that long since the two of them were fighting their battles in the same tournament, Hoshiumi, Kageyama finds, is not the same spiker he fought in high school. He's stronger, and the way he handles the ball speaks to an intimacy of sorts as if Hoshiumi and this ball have taken the next step in an already close relationship.
Everyone else, too, is of a completely different caliber than the players he fought last year. As they move into serve practice and spiking drills, the sheer skill and experience of each of these players screams at him. Kageyama can already feel his fingers itching to set for them in a real game, his mind whirring in anticipation of all the ways he could use them.
Later, Kageyama has a conversation with the coach and an athletic trainer about conditioning, diet, and mental preparation, and this too is different. These people he's working with, he can feel acutely that they are professionals at helping people play volleyball professionally, because for every one thing he's thought of to increase his fitness and skill they've got five up their sleeves.
That runt better not be wasting his time in Brazil, he thinks. I'm going to be so good by the time he gets back.
The next few weeks, Kageyama throws himself into training, practicing, watching his senior teammates, and training. Though he's undeniably skilled, unlike high school every single player here has the advantage of experience on him, so if he wants to get to the starting lineup he's going to have to work even harder than he has previously.
It's a great kind of thrill, really, it is. And the brilliance of it never quite goes away. But gradually, gradually, the novelty of being surrounded by the atmosphere of pro wears off, and it becomes a part of the routine of life in the same way that he grew into his high school jersey until it was a second skin. When that happens, Kageyama starts to get a tiny, nagging feeling that something, somewhere in the patchwork of gears that gave his growth in high school its astronomical fervor, is not altogether right.
It's a Tuesday evening in the gym, and every other player has long since finished up and left. Most of Kageyama's teammates have spouses, even kids, or other myriad responsibilities that befall adults. Even Hoshiumi is busy - he's got a Skype date with an old teammate of his. Kageyama's resorted to slamming serve after serve into the floor on the other side of the net like he used to in middle school, after everyone else had abandoned him to do homework or play video games.
He pauses. Thinks back on his serves today, and oh, he's lost count, and just remembers serving and serving and serving and the feeling of the memory falls a bit flat. It feels off. He remembers some good serves, some bad, and the better ones that followed because of the bad ones, but still something doesn't feel like it should.
If Hinata were here, he would still be in the gym, because he doesn't have a spouse or kids, and he doesn't do Skype dates with old teammates, as far as Kageyama knows. If he were here, it would be his wild grin on the other side of the net instead of empty space and a wooden floor. If he were here, he'd have sweat pouring down his face, trying to bump every cannonball Kageyama would send at him. If he were here, every weak serve would get Kageyama fired up instantly for the purpose of wiping the triumph off Hinata's face. If he were here, every good serve would feel more and more rewarding, if only for the gleam of Hinata's expression, a botched pass, and the scent of challenge permeating the air.
Back when they were both in that small gym, when time wasn't real and there was only volleyball and each other, they'd played so hard not just for the sake of their bets of pork buns or milk boxes, but for the sake of winning.
Kageyama doesn’t feel victorious tonight, and he misses that feeling. He spins the volleyball in his hands, once, twice, then puts it back into the cart. He decides that it might be time to go home.
The official season is weeks away. Ushijima's getting his vertical jump height measured, and Kageyama and Hoshiumi stand together waiting for him. Their older teammates are also there, but the three of them have formed a habit of sticking together lately, birds (or monsters) of a feather that they are.
"347.8," he reports when he gets back, and Hoshiumi's mouth twists into a frown.
"He's been ahead of me since high school, and he was still beating me as of last year," explains the small outside hitter, brows knitted. "I'll need to have improved by at least two centimeters to surpass that." He pauses, then adds to Kageyama heatedly, "You go next. I wanna find out if I beat you and if I beat him at the same time."
Kageyama complies, getting 341. When Hoshiumi returns with a result of 347.2, though he's remarkably frustrated at still not having passed Ushijima, he's elated to have defeated Kageyama by such a large margin.
"Ha! I win! I bet you were underestimating me, huh?!? Well think again, 'cause you've got your work cut out for you if you want to beat me!!"
He's loud, but Kageyama still finds himself drifting into thought. Hinata had never managed to surpass him in high school, but by their third year he'd come close. It wouldn't be a long shot if he'd managed a higher jump in the months that had passed since then. Suddenly, Kageyama itches with the desire to know who's ahead right now. He can't be fully satisfied unless he knows.
He mentions as much to Ushijima, who responds, "Why not just message him and ask?"
Kageyama hesitates. Things have been tense between them, and when they do talk they're not really talking. The last time he texted Hinata about how he was doing, he'd replied in a cheerful way that seemed... not altogether right. Kageyama is bad at reading social cues, but he knows Hinata, and he knows Hinata wasn't being sincere. And when Kageyama mentioned Hinata's training, he'd flat-out refused to answer, saying, "Stupid Kageyama, that would spoil the surprise!" All in all, it's a very unpleasant can of worms that Kageyama's quite reluctant to stick his hand in again.
"Don't ignore me, Kageyama Tobio!! Now that you've seen what I can do, you'd better start taking me seriously!!!"
No matter what Kageyama does, the feeling won't go away. Hinata's absence presses at him, pokes and jabs him at times, and on the worst occasions reaches into him and sours his mood terribly.
When he finally gets to the starting lineup for an official match, he burns to tell Hinata, to rub it in his face and say I win . But Hinata's not there, so he settles for accepting high fives and congratulations instead of fiery challenges and friendly insults.
When he has to navigate an interview by himself for the first time, he stumbles badly over his words, misses nuances, and feels like he's back at school and failing another test. Hinata would know what to say, would interject cheerfully and make a playful jab at him, and Kageyama would do better because I won't lose to you . But Hinata's not there, so he lets the reporter sense his awkwardness and they hastily end the conversation.
Even passing an ad for the sunny beaches of Rio reminds him of Hinata. What is he learning from playing beach volleyball? What new techniques has he picked up? What kind of players is he learning from? What would it be like, if Kageyama was there with him?
What would it be like if Hinata was here with him now?
Kageyama knows that Hinata's time in Brazil is good for them. Since their very first meeting, there has been a rift between them cracked open by fortune and experience and hard work, and at this very moment Hinata's working harder than ever to catch up.
Still, for three years, having Hinata next to him was a great asset to Kageyama. Without him, Kageyama would almost be paranoid that he's growing stagnant, were it not for the constant encouragement he gets from everyone around him.
And especially, Kageyama wishes more than anything that Hinata could be next to him on the bad days, when the paradise he’d chosen for its landscape of fellow monsters sinks its claws into him a little too hard.
Of course they don't win every game. Even the league champions have to lose once in a while, but the loss on this particular day is worth fifty. They're playing EJP Raijin, who've gotten themselves some terrifying new starters that Kageyama knows. Of course it had to be fucking Suna Rintarou and Washio Tatsuki staring him down from the other side of the net, putting pressure on him akin to the weight of five centuries, and as if that's not enough they've got Komori backing them up too, an rapid, sharp-eyed force that people don't ever seem to notice until the Adlers' spikes stop reaching the floor.
It's impossible. It's not, but it is. Kageyama can't get around them. He tries everything he knows, pulls out every trick and every strategy he can think of. When that fails, he hands the reins to his spikers and silently asks them to score. When that fails, he watches from the bench as the other setter tries their luck, aided by their most talented pinch server and the best players he knows.
They do score, but it's not enough. Not enough of their serves manage to shake that fierce serve receive formation, not enough of their spikes get past both the block and the ground defense, not enough of their blocks or their digs are fast enough to get the attacks that come at them. Worse, they're making more mistakes than they usually do, and try as he might Kageyama can't pull them out of the rattled, desperate mood they're all in.
It's a rough loss for all of them, but as Kageyama sits defeated in the locker room, he feels utterly alone.
He can almost envision a flash of orange hair in front of him, determination carved into the shape of bloodshot, teary eyes, but it fades as soon as it comes. Trying to will it back, he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, then opens them again and stares up at the blur of lights above him. Loathe as he is to admit it, even to himself, he needs Hinata right now. He needs that bright, willful idiot to take him by the shoulders, look him in the eye, and tell him that they'll get the next one together.
Now more than ever Kageyama needs that competition with Hinata to pour himself into. He needs it because otherwise he'll spill apart into a puddle on the floor.
They're standing in the gym during practice, drinking water and hastily wiping away sweat during a short break. Hoshiumi fixes his sharp eyes on Kageyama and says, "What's up with you?"
Kageyama bristles. "Nothing's wrong with me."
"Bullshit," says Hoshiumi. "I've never seen you not have fun playing volleyball in years as much as you have just this week."
"What he means is that your behavior has been different lately, and it has been concerning to us," Ushijima clarifies.
"Mind your own business, Hoshiumi-san," Kageyama says crossly.
He receives an indignant squawk in response. "We're teammates!! You're my setter!! Your business is my business!!"
Ushijima cuts in again. "If whatever issue you are dealing with is serious enough to negatively affect your mood on a daily basis, it becomes important to us. Thankfully, it has not affected your play significantly so far, but if there is anything you can identify as the root cause of your recent frustration, you are welcome to ask us for assistance with it."
"Nothing's wrong," Kageyama insists. "Is there an issue with my sets? If you have a problem with them, just tell me."
A furrow appears between Ushijima's eyebrows. "We are attempting to help you, Kageyama. Stubbornness and pride will not solve your problems."
Kageyama turns away and busies himself with his water bottle. He refuses to entertain these two busybodies any longer, or so he intends. Only a few seconds go by before Hoshiumi decides he's not putting up with more of this nonsense.
"You miss Hinata," he says loudly, and Kageyama chokes.
" What-no- that's- " After spluttering for a moment and receiving several harsh thumps on the back from Ushijima, Kageyama recovers enough to protest. "No, why would I miss that moron? He's annoying, and loud, and-"
"I'm right, aren't I?" Hoshiumi demands. "We saw you staring at that Rio ad, around the time you started getting all broody, and in our practice games you've been using quicks over the center as often as you can get away with."
Kageyama flushes. "I wasn't-"
"Shut your mouth and listen to the wisdom I’m about to impart on you!" Hoshiumi orders, not unkindly. When Kageyama shuts his mouth, he continues, "It happens to everyone . Even me, strong-willed little giant that I am! When I first went pro, I missed my old team a lot. I used to think, man, this would be so much more fun if Sachirou were here. Or, I bet Sachirou would know exactly what to do right now. Or even, imagine how funny it would be if that fool Gao were with me right now. I know, right? Imagine missing Gao ." He scrunches up his nose. "Anyway, Ushiwaka says when he first went pro, he really missed that guess dude he used to play with."
"His name is Tendou," Ushijima corrects. "And Hoshiumi's point is this: there is no reason to be ashamed, Kageyama. When players form especially close bonds through volleyball in high school, it is natural that they initially feel their absence deeply while playing volleyball when they are no longer teammates. I assure you that you will be able to adjust and your enjoyment of volleyball will increase again."
Before Kageyama can begin to formulate a response, their captain calls them all back to practice and their little bubble of vulnerability pops.
Kageyama sets up a Skype call with Yamaguchi the next evening when both of them are free. In the first few minutes, Yamaguchi simply spends time asking him how he's been and inquiring about various things in his life, to which Kageyama gives mostly one-word answers, except when talking about volleyball. They chat for a moment about how Tsukishima and Yachi are doing, and then Yamaguchi goes into Helpful Captain Yamaguchi Mode.
"So why'd you wanna call? Is there something you want to talk about?"
Kageyama hesitates. Just when the pause becomes slightly too long and he starts to feel awkward, he averts his eyes and manages to force out, "Have you heard from Hinata recently?"
Seemingly taken by surprise, Yamaguchi laughs a little. "Oh, Hinata? Funny, the last time I talked to him he was asking about you too."
An inexplicable hope flares within Kageyama, coupled with confusion. "Hinata asked about me?" Why?
Yamaguchi nods. "He was rambling about some guy he plays beach with? And how that guy is planning to propose to his girlfriend and the two of them were talking about life-long partners, or something like that, and then all of a sudden he asked me how you were doing. We talked a little about your recent matches, and just before we stopped he got all serious and said that you'd better keep upping your game a whole lot, because he's really looking forward to beating you when he gets back."
Looking forward. When he gets back. Beating me…
"Later, he happened to mention that he's really glad to hit any tosses at all, and he likes playing with his beach partner, but he still misses your sets sometimes. He also told me not to tell you that, but oh well." Yamaguchi is smiling amiably, but Kageyama doesn't like the look in his eye. During his tenure as captain, Yamaguchi was nice most of the time, but by the time they were a few months into practice it had become abundantly clear that their freckled friend had developed a mild devious streak.
"Did he say anything about his vertical jump height."
"Um... not really? Though he did talk about how the sand is pretty rough to be jumping off of, so I imagine he's been getting even better in that regard."
"Hmph." Kageyama grimaces. He'll have to work even harder if he wants to stay ahead of Hinata, it seems. But to his delight, he's starting to get excited again.
Later that night, Kageyama sends Hinata a text.
I'm definitely going to beat you when you get back.
The next morning is as good a time as any to start making good on that promise. As Kageyama sets out for his morning jog, the chilly air seems sharper in his lungs than usual, and he feels good. Focused.
Every step is important.
I have to defeat Hinata. Have to get better - more than him.
Warmups feel just as good, if not better. Kageyama starts like it’s one of those days - Hinata says the phenomenon is whenever he gets all calm and concentrated, dubbing it “Kalm Kageyama,” but to him it just feels like everything falls into place when it should.
They start the day by working on serves. The first one feels good, runup flowing without effort, ball coming off his hand nicely, but when it hits the floor Hoshiumi grins and yells, “You call that a serve?!”
The next few go quite the same, and he tries to fight the sensation of unease hooking into his skin. When he straightens up from picking up the next ball, Ushijima gives him a small nod of support. Keep fighting , his expression says.
Kageyama grits his teeth and thinks to himself, Hinata would’ve gotten that last one easily.
I want to say it. I want to say it. I want to say it.
“I’m not who I was the last time you saw me.”
He closes his eyes, inhales deeply, lets the pros’ arena fall away, and serves. When the ball whizzes off the wooden planks, the impact is so loud the echo hangs in the air for a moment and a half.
And so it goes. Practice after practice. Conditioning, training, more practice.
Sometimes, Kageyama loses sight of his vow, and the season is spotted with moments and hours and days when things aren’t fun. But when that happens it only takes a clap on the back from Ushijima or a shouted encouragement from Hoshiumi to get his drive back.
Just in case they’re not there some day or other, Kageyama sets a selfie Hinata sent him from Brazil as his phone’s lockscreen, just to remind himself. It’s good motivation - whenever he sees his flaming hair, his wild grin, and those sharp, intense eyes, he feels the heat of competition begin to boil inside.
During his second year in the V. League, Kageyama gets chosen for the national team. He texts Hinata about it the second he gets notified, and Hinata replies, So cool!!!!!!!!! Then, Don’t let any of those foreign players beat you before I do (*｀へ´*)
When Kageyama goes to the Olympics in Rio, his first instinct is to gape in awe. The competitive atmosphere is so thick it would choke anyone but the highly trained, intensely driven athletes who have earned the right to be there. It's heaven. Later, in his room, it occurs to him to think, Hinata would love this. I want to come here with him someday and take on the world with me.
In 2018, he receives three very important texts from Hinata. The first, in the spring: Back in Japan! When Kageyama gets it, he grins, tells his teammates, and brushes up on his serving accuracy.
The next, a few weeks later: Made it onto the Black Jackals! Kageyama starts keeping a closer eye on MSBY's website and works on his blocking.
The third, near the end of October: Uahhhhh! I'm on the starting lineup for our next match against the Adlers!! You'd better be ready!! Kageyama replies, Of course I'm ready, you runt, and marks that date on his calendar the way he marks all the matches he plays in. Every night until the match arrives, he mentally calculates the days until November 17th.
And then the match arrives.
As fate would have it, when Kageyama sees Hinata again for the first time in two years, they meet in front of the bathroom. It’s almost poetic.
He’s changed. Tanned skin, taller (a bit), and there’s a new surety in the way he walks and talks.
But he still sings that dumb bathroom song. He still grins the same when Kageyama greets him, rough and blunt- “Not gonna have any bowel issues today, are you?”
And when they shake hands pre-match, the challenge in his eyes is still blessedly the same.
Kageyama gets to serve first, as if the universe is telling him to step up to the test. He spins the ball in his hands, allowing familiarity to settle his muscles.
I waited so long; I worked so hard; I really, really wanted to show you this.
Hinata, I’m not who I was in high school either.
He closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and serves.
A hurtling rocket right off the bat, but Hinata manages a clean pass off it. Equal parts pride and frustration flare in Kageyama. Hinata recovers quick, the ball goes to Miya, Hinata makes his runup, and- boom.
He soars.
The ball zooms over the blockers hands and into the back corner of the court, and the arena explodes.
When Hinata lifts his arms and cheers, “ I’m home!” and the crowd answers to welcome him back, Kageyama feels as though he, too, has come home.
Kageyama grins when he loses. He can’t help it; this has been the most fun he’s ever had. If only every game he played for the rest of his life could be like this. There'd be no limit to his happiness.
“That’s 1,096 wins for me, and 1,100 losses.”
The words spark a flare of joy in Kageyama’s chest.
He’s missed this.
When Miya and Bokuto inquire about the win/loss count, Hinata explains. Then the little runt goes, “Oh wait, I haven’t added in my beach volleyball games!” and Kageyama snaps back instantly, so they fall into the familiar rhythm of arguing like they did when they were teenagers.
After they’ve both tired out their vocabularies of words like idiot, moron, and jerk, Hinata goes oddly quiet for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to jump off a cliff.
Then he puts his hands on his hips, and Kageyama can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice as he says, “You know, I think I should get a prize for finally beating you in an official match.”
“What? What are you talking about, dipshit, you already won, that’s not how this works. You can’t just decide on a prize after-”
Hinata interrupts him with a wide smile on his face and a challenge in his voice. “Don’t you wanna know what I want?”
Kageyama glares at him.
Hinata’s expression turns earnest suddenly. “Go on a date with me, Kageyama.”
“What? ”
Suddenly, Kageyama is all too aware of the volleyball net witnessing this exchange, the noise of the crowd is a renewed cacophony in his ear, and Miya and Bokuto are still a few feet away, probably eavesdropping. He splutters for several seconds, then manages to say, “You’re asking this here? Now? What the hell-”
“What better time than now?” asks Hinata, determination and hope shining out of his face. “And that wasn’t a no! So what’s it gonna be?” He blabbers on about this and that, partnership and rivalry, all the while ignoring Kageyama’s rapidly reddening face.
Go on a date?? With Hinata??? Kageyama hasn’t even had time for even the thought of dating anyone to occur to his mind. His brain briefly pauses its short-circuiting, just briefly enough to notice Hoshiumi and Ushijima watching as well, and then Hoshiumi beams and gives him a thumbs-up and what the hell-
“Kageyama.” Hinata’s voice and the feel of his hand on Kageyama’s arm cuts through the chaos of his internal freakout, and his reassuring smile calms Kageyama’s racing heartbeat. “It doesn’t have to be soon, or a big deal, or anything. Just- I wanna play more volleyball with you, and eat meat buns with you, and talk to you, and race you, and-” now Hinata’s the one blushing, and it spreads over his face all the way to his ears- “and I just missed you, Kageyama, so much, and I think I really, really like you.”
There’s a shred of fear in Hinata’s eyes, but over it Kageyama can see himself mirrored in Hinata’s irises. Now, it seems, his answer comes as easy as breathing.
“You’re on, dumbass.” And he sprints off the court towards the locker rooms, Hinata fast on his heels.
Epilogue
Four years later, Hinata and Kageyama meet in front of the men’s bathroom, in Rome's Palalottomatica arena.
“So what’s it gonna be today?” Hinata’s eager grin shines at Kageyama as it’s been wont to do lately.
Kageyama meets him with a stern look. “Whoever’s team loses buys dinner tonight.”
Hinata’s grin widens. “Winner gets to pick the restaurant, too. Unlimited budget.”
“What? No, stupid,” Kageyama argues. “That’s not fair. One of us’s gonna have to pay half a year’s salary just for one meal.”
“Why? Scared you’ll lose?”
“Like hell I am, moron!”
The ensuing scuffle leaves Hinata in a headlock and Kageyama with a rumpled, messy shirt. They’re both heaving for breath, grinning like the idiots they are.
“Well?”
A pause.
“Get ready to buy me the best meal in Rome, because I’m gonna destroy you.”
“You’re on!”