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At the blaring of his alarm that morning, Kageyama knows that today is going to be a very long day.
The first thing he notices is the fact that his entire body feels like lead. He groans pitifully as he rolls over to his side, trying his best to sit up but couldn’t because his head feels like it’s about to explode at even the slightest movement.
The next thing he notices after much struggling and finally able to sit up without feeling like he’s about to collapse, is that his entire room looks slightly tilted and he feels awkward as he staggers to the bathroom to get ready for school, like a toddler who’s just learn how to walk.
Since the world feels like it’s about to tip over, Kageyama decides to take things really, really slowly. He lifts his heavy arm and jams his toothbrush in his mouth, doing some movements vaguely resembling that of brushing one’s teeth, watching his reflection all the while. He looks like shit is all he can say; his eyes are bloodshot, hair completely dishevelled, dark circles and eye bags under his eyes making him look even nastier than his normal facial expression would warrant, and his hands, he realises belatedly, are trembling slightly. He frowns.
At the back of his head, he knows what this looks like but he doesn’t want to admit it just yet. Maybe if he perseveres by sheer will alone, he’ll be fine.
Dragging his feet, he slumps into the bath tub he’s glad he had half a mind to fill up upon entering the bathroom, and slinks down into the warm water, submerging everything from the mouth down. He blows air out of his lips, watching the spray of water absentmindedly. Glancing over at the clock on the wall, he has another hour and half before he’s going to be extremely late.
Plenty of time to waste; never mind about that routine early jog he does every morning to school, one day of skipping isn’t going to kill him.
He heaves his body out of the tub and dries up, mind not particularly on anything as he pulls on his uniform. Dragging his bag to the kitchen, he sees the usual white envelope on the table and a note with a familiar handwriting. He picks it up: Money for the rest of the week. Love you.
He stuffs both the note and the money in his pocket and shuffles over to the fridge. There, he sees more post-its.
Tonight’s dinner, on a container. He picks it up and sees that it’s frozen curry.
Buy more of this, kay, on the carton of milk he drinks every day.
For tomorrow morning, on a neatly wrapped bowl filled with washed vegetables.
It goes on in similar fashion. Kageyama scans the entirety of the fridge but doesn’t find what he needs: Today’s breakfast.
He sighs. Cereal it is.
Walking to school usually takes about 20 minutes, but like everything he’s done so far, Kageyama takes his time; hands stuffed in his pockets, he watches his feet as they move in front of the other alternately. He notices how the piece of loose pavement tile he usually likes to step on is gone completely, leaving that part hollow, and sighs.
A few steps ahead, he notes in delight how the kitten he sees every day is eating a stolen fish.
A few steps later, he rounds the nursery he used to frequent.
A bend and he finds himself in front of the park he passes every day. A boy is on the swing, his laugh is loud in the quiet morning as his mother pushes him from behind, laughing too.
A few steps later, he sees Karasuno looming from over the tree tops.
A few steps later, he hears the familiar rattle of chain, the creaks of a paddle and the all too familiar huffs of one red-headed clumsy idiot.
He hears the screech of the brake, followed shortly by the pitter patter of footsteps that is probably goading him into running. He sighs as he feels the other whizzing past him with a battle cry.
It was a bit comical seeing Hinata stop abruptly once he realises Kageyama isn’t chasing after him like he usually does. Kageyama watches as the other skips over before peering at him curiously.
“What are you looking at, idiot.”
Hinata is still regarding him in confused silence.
Kageyama is about to yell at him, never mind that he doesn’t even have the energy to, before Hinata says, quietly.
“Are you sick, Kageyama?”
He clicks his tongue in annoyance, because trust Hinata to be oddly perceptive when he wants to be. Also, he’s still in denial.
“I’m fine.”
Hinata hums thoughtfully, before stretching himself on his tip toes, a hand reaching up to his forehead. He gasps in surprise, at how he is no doubt burning up. Kageyama slaps his hand away, ready to ignore him and stomp his way to the clubroom, but Hinata is fast as he grabs his arm and gasping again at how he could feel his body heat even through his jacket. “Holy shit, Kageyama! You’re burning up! Like really badly.”
Before he can even protest, Hinata is already dragging him to the school gates. “Come on, you need to go back.”
“I’m not going back when I’ve just got here, dumbass!”
Then suddenly, Hinata let go of him. Kageyama has been pulling himself off with too much force that he stumbles and falls on his butt. He glares at the other, who only looks smug.
“Do you need a hand, Kageyama-kun?”
Slapping the pre-offered hand, Kageyama grunts as he pushes himself up; only to feel the world tip over his feet and he staggers, faintly hearing Hinata’s startled ‘woah’ as he reaches out to steady him. Kageyama groans.
“That’s it, I’m taking you home.”
Kageyama doesn’t really have the energy to protest as he let Hinata drag him over to the school gates. He grumbles the entire way home and Hinata ignores him, chattering about everything in that big head of his. He tried convincing the other earlier that he can walk back on his own, but Hinata simply said, “Nuh-uh, what if you fall in a ditch somewhere and die?” so he resigns himself to this stupid cold he’s managed to catch and the mere existence of Hinata.
When they get to his house, Hinata is trying his best to not rudely peer into the interior since Kageyama has never really invited any of the Karasuno members to his place. He’s never invited anyone to his place, ever.
Hinata looks at him worriedly, “Do you wanna call your parents? Let them know you’re sick?”
Kageyama twitches, “No need.”
Looking completely horrified at the idea of him being sick and alone, Hinata presses on. “Are you sure? Like really, really sure? Who’s gonna look after you?”
Kageyama steps into his slippers, looking back at the other’s worried expression and refrains from saying ‘I’m used to it,’ because that is way too personal. He opts instead for a curt, “Yes.”
Hinata looks like he’s about to protest, so Kageyama says a quick “Bye,” before slamming the door shut. He can hear Hinata’s indignant ‘Oi!’ but ignores it.
He leans against the door, listening to Hinata’s grumbles and his retreating footsteps. He sighs tiredly. Right on cue, his head starts pounding really intensely. Cradling his head, he stumbles into the living room, blindly reaching for the remote to turn the TV on, putting it on the lowest volume out of habit. He falls asleep on the settee, to the soft humming of the screen.
When he blinks awake, it’s already past noon and his stomach is groaning in protest at the lack of food. With a huff, Kageyama slowly crawls into the kitchen. His head feels oddly light, like it’s detached from his body, as he fumbles for a pot to make himself soup.
He stares blankly at the soup he’s managed to make in his state, willing it to simmer and boil so he can sit down and rest his head on the table. He can’t help but note that in a few hours there’s going to be practice, and that he’s going to miss it for the first time since starting high school. He tries to imagine the reactions of the Karasuno members when Hinata announces the reason for his absence.
Just then, his phone beeps with incoming messages. Turning off the stove, he goes to check his phone, only to see tonnes of messages from Tanaka, Nishinoya, Daichi, Sugawara, and mostly from Hinata.
(Tanaka’s ‘KAGEYAMA I DIDN’T KNOW YOU COULD EVEN GET SICK?!!! DON’T DIE’
Nishinoya’s ‘Heard you was sick! Drink plenty of water ;))’
Daichi’s ‘Take care, make sure you rest plenty. Ukai-san said to not come tomorrow too, thought you should know’
Sugawara’s ‘Call if you need anything, kay’
Kageyama scrolls past Hinata’s mostly incoherent texting that involves too many exclamation marks and half sentences and reads only the recent one, which was sent a few minutes ago:
i’m coming over after practice so don’t die yet!!
Of course, now that Hinata knows where he lives.)
As annoying as it is to read through the caps lock and exclamation marks, Kageyama catches himself re-reading them and clicks his tongue in annoyance, embarrassed at himself.
He goes to feed himself with the mediocre soup he’s made, not really tasting anything past warm liquid and squishy textures. He grimaces.
This time he manages to drag himself to his bed, still falling asleep to the drone of the TV.
He’s woken by the sound of the doorbell ringing obnoxiously loud, over and over again. His head is pounding again when he makes to get up, groaning at the noise that’s making his headache even worse. He wants to shout to whoever’s pressing the damn doorbell to fucking shut up already but he can’t even muster enough energy to do that. He ends up groaning into his pillow.
Kageyama is rewarded by momentary peace and quiet when the ringing stops, only to be disrupted by the sound of an all too familiar voice shouting and pounding at his door frantically.
Kageyama! Kageyama! Are you still alive? Oi! This isn’t funny, you know!
He tries to ignore it, he really does, but Hinata is not relenting.
Kageyama! Kageyama! Ka! Ge! Ya! Maaaaa!!!
He’s pretty sure if he ignores him any longer, Hinata is going to knock his door down. He hauls himself off of bed, ignoring his pounding head, made worse no thanks to the other, and patters as quickly as he can to the front door to yank it open.
“Shut up, please.”
Hinata looks shocked at first before he smiles brightly. He sighs in relief. “Oh thank god, I thought you died or something.”
Kageyama just sighs and opens the door wider to let Hinata in, noting how the gates are slightly ajar, no doubt the other’s doing. He can’t even be angry, especially at the sight of the big white plastic bag in Hinata’s hand. Hinata brandishes it with a proud smile. “Courtesy of the senpais… and me, of course.”
Kageyama sighs and gestures him to come in already, and Hinata does, muttering a soft, ‘Sorry for intruding,’ as he slips on the guest’s slippers.
Hinata takes in everything with a soft gasp, though Kageyama isn’t sure what’s so amazing about the house. His eyes land on the TV and he promptly looks over at Kageyama, “Were you watching that?”
He stomps over to switch the TV off, feeling embarrassed over nothing. It’s not like Hinata knows why he keeps it on anyway. “No.”
Giving him a weird look, Hinata shrugs before making himself completely at home, venturing into the kitchen and depositing the plastic bag onto the table. He looks around and spots the pot and peers inside, ooh-ing at the content.
“Didn’t know you can cook, Kageyama.”
Kageyama grunts, “It’s just soup.”
Hinata pouts. “And here I thought I was about to bless you with my superb chicken soup, and nurse you back to health.”
Kageyama just raises a brow. “What do you know about cooking?” Then his brain catches up to why Hinata’s here in his house. “And I can take care of myself, thanks.”
Completely ignoring him, Hinata pushes Kageyama out of the kitchen. “Now, now, don’t be shy Kageyama,” he thumps his fist to his chest, looking way too proud, “I’ll have you know, I’m used to taking care of Natsu whenever she gets sick.”
Shooing him to go to his room and rest, Hinata starts rifling through the plastic bag. Kageyama isn’t particularly interested in what the other is planning on doing, much too glad to go back to lying down miserably in his bed.
He listens to the faint sound of clanging and chopping, and if he strains enough, he can actually make out Hinata humming some random tune under his breath. Kageyama rolls onto his side, burying his face into his pillow as he takes in the evident sounds of another person in the house, and sighs.
Instead of the soft humming from the TV, Kageyama drifts off to Hinata’s soft humming.
There is a distinct smell, but Kageyama can’t really pinpoint what it is because he’s still in that in-between phase of asleep and awake. The smell becomes stronger and more discernible the longer he concentrates on it and suddenly it’s right under his nose.
Kageyama cracks an eye open, a bowl of chicken soup greeting him and he frowns. Since when can a chicken soup materialise itself and levitate on its own. He hears soft laughter and his eyes search for the source when he sees amber eyes looking at him with amusement, there’s a familiar tinkle to them.
His frown deepens when he hears those eyes say, very softly, “Time to eat, Kageyama-kun.”
He’s about to ask them how come they can speak when he realises those eyes actually belong to Hinata, who came over to take care of him; who managed to somehow cook a really tasty looking chicken soup.
“Did you blow up the kitchen?” Is the first thing that he blurts, and is rewarded by an indignant huff.
“Rude.”
He sits up slowly, cradling his head as the pounding starts again. Without his consent, a pathetic whimper escapes him and he feels a hand holding him up. He would have glared but glaring would make his headache even worse so he just ends up staring dumbly.
Hinata pushes the bowl at him again, urging him to take it.
It’s surprisingly good, Kageyama admits begrudgingly, better than his sorry excuse of a soup; so good that he’s asking for another and Hinata seems really pleased at that and shoots off from the floor with a, ‘be right back!’
Kageyama’s never really had anyone look over him while he eats, so it’s a bit unnerving to feel watchful eyes on him as he eats his third helping. It doesn’t help that Hinata’s being uncharacteristically quiet the entire time.
He peeks over to see Hinata still looking at him and almost chokes on his soup. He covers it up with a fake cough, which prompts Hinata to slightly panic and fuss over him. “Are you okay? Do you need water? I’ll go get water!”
After being practically force-fed some cough syrup and paracetamol, (successfully declining two other medicines that Hinata’s convinced will make his fever go away faster with a loud You’re gonna fucking kill me, dumbass!) Kageyama realises that the sky is already a dark blue, almost pitch black. He says this aloud and Hinata peers out the window, unconcerned.
He shrugs. “It’s fine, my mum already came over with my stuff while you were sleeping.”
Kageyama is trying to process the fact that Hinata is staying over. He’s never had a friend over, much less one staying the night. “You don’t have to stay the night,” he grumbles, not looking Hinata in the eye.
He forgets that Hinata sometimes can be really intense without intending to, and he’s doing it right now, looking at him with an unreadable expression before shrugging, his face back to normal.
“I don’t really feel like leaving you alone. Not when you’re this bad.”
He’s about to protest, he actually feels a lot better now, but of course that’s when he starts shivering violently. He feels a gentle hand push at him to lie down.
Kageyama whimpers pathetically, feeling his body racked over with cold sweat. He shivers again, so Hinata starts tucking him in, smothering him in layers of blankets he snatched from his cupboard.
Remembering that Hinata’s staying the night, he mumbles, “We don’t have a spare futon.”
Hinata shushes him, and he feels slightly miffed but he’s too weak to even do anything. “It’s fine, I’ll sleep on the couch.” Tucking the blankets firmly around him one last time, Hinata smiles triumphantly at his masterpiece, patting him. “Now sleep.”
Kageyama can feel the cough syrup starting to kick in, his eyelids heavy as he blinks tiredly. Hinata smiles gently before making his way out the room, Kageyama watching him sleepily. He’s never been coddled before, so used to fending for himself, and he appreciates what Hinata’s doing for him but he’s too out of it to even articulate his gratitude.
“Hinata,” he calls out, his words slurring. When he hears Hinata humming in acknowledgment, he mumbles, “Thanks.”
Right before he completely passes out, he hears Hinata laughing softly, “You’re definitely nicer when you’re sick.”
Waking up the next day, Kageyama feels a lot better. His body still feels like lead. He sighs softly as he rolls over to his side, not wanting to wake up just yet. He can feel the dull throb of his head that doesn’t feel like it’s about to explode at even the slightest movement. As he lazily sits up in bed, he notices that the room still looks slightly tilted and he still staggers awkwardly to the bathroom, to wash his face.
Just like yesterday, Kageyama takes his time, feeling sluggish. He stuffs his mouth with a toothbrush, doing some movements vaguely resembling that of brushing one’s teeth, watching his reflection all the while. He looks less like shit; his eyes are back to normal, hair completely dishevelled due to the hours he spent sleeping, dark circles still there but without the eye bags making him look less nasty than he did yesterday.
He forgoes morning bath because he still has the shivers. He pulls on a jumper and a sweater over it, then a pair of socks. He drags his feet to the kitchen and sees a familiar post-it on the table, but with a different handwriting. He picks it up: made more soup, make sure you finish it up :))))
He folds the note carefully and stores it in his pocket and shuffles over to the stove to heat up the soup; Today’s breakfast.
He feels a whisper of a smile. Soup it is then.
Still feeling lightheaded, Kageyama swallows down his meds; he drifts off to the sound of his own breathing.
The next time he wakes up, it’s to the chime of his phone. He fumbles for it blearily, squinting at the too bright screen to see who texted him. Of course it’s Hinata.
i come bearing meat buns!
He notes in surprise that it’s already late into the evening, which means he’s slept the entire day off. Then he hears the doorbell ringing, not as incessantly as yesterday, thankfully.
Kageyama rubs his face as he trudges to the door, making sure there isn’t any dried drool. Hinata beams at him, brandishing a paper bag that smells like meat buns. His stomach growls.
“Uhm, I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to eat that yet.”
Hinata pushes his way inside, slipping on his slippers. “Nonsense. You’ve been eating soup for a day and a half now; it’s time to eat solids.” His voice trailed off, and Kageyama is about to ask what’s wrong when the other points at the TV, peering at him cautiously. “Not watching TV today?”
Kageyama feels his mouth go dry and he thinks he can feel heat creep up the back of his neck. It completely slipped his mind this morning to turn the TV on, he isn’t sure why. He shakes his head, unable to form words without sounding like he’s about to cry. He isn’t going to, but he sort of feels like it.
Hinata shrugs, pushing him into the kitchen and onto the chair. “Here,” he hands over the paper bag before setting about to make tea.
The moment Kageyama opens the paper bag, the smell that wafts through the kitchen is enough to make his mouth water, if he isn’t sick out of his mind; instead he feels his stomach rumble not out of hunger but of something else.
“I feel sick,” he announces.
Looking over his shoulder, Hinata laughs slightly. “It’s fine.”
He stares at the warm bun warily, the same bun he loves to eat every day after practice, and takes a small bite. The taste is overwhelming, too much for his still ill body, and he swallows with great effort. He makes a gagging noise, earning a chiding ‘Oi!’ from Hinata.
It’s taking too long to finish just one and Hinata has bought two. Kageyama looks at him pleadingly, “I can’t finish this.”
Just like yesterday, Hinata force feeds him the second bun. Kageyama is too busy pushing down the urge to throw up to even yell at the other.
“That wasn’t so bad was it.”
Kageyama glares at him, not daring to open his mouth lest he spills everything he just ate on the table. Hinata slides a steaming cup of tea to him and he takes it wordlessly, flushing down the unpleasant after taste.
When Hinata deems him okay, the other starts recounting the day to him. They spent the day with the usual drills of receiving, spiking, and serving, and then they had a match against Karasuno’s alumni team. They lost, again.
He didn’t realise he was dozing off until Hinata starts calling his name. Kageyama snaps his eyes open, staring blankly at the other, who seems to be holding back laughter; he scowls at him and that seems to be Hinata’s cue to throw his head back and clutch at his belly as he laughs loudly.
Hinata wheezes, “God, you looked so funny.”
“Shut up.” He grumbles.
Then suddenly Hinata reaches out a hand to his forehead, checking his temperature. Kageyama is too stunned to do anything else but stare at the other. To his credit, Hinata seems to notice Kageyama’s lack of response and is about to ask him if he’s okay when he realises he had leaned in too close and that their noses are now brushing. Hinata pulls back immediately, face red.
Kageyama’s eyes are darting everywhere, not really sure where to settle on; anything except on the boy in front of him.
Hinata clears his throat. “Well, your fever’s gone down now.”
Kageyama grunts in reply, still not sure what to do.
Hinata stands up too fast the chair screeches harshly against the floor; they both wince at the sound. “I should… go home. Now.” Hinata says, to no one in particular.
Biting down on his lip, Kageyama nods. He doesn’t want Hinata to go back just yet, but he’s not really sure how to react given what had just transpired. It’s all too confusing for his still muddled brain.
They both walk quietly to the front door, Kageyama with his hands in his pockets, Hinata fiddling with the strap of his bag. He steals a glance at the living room, considering leaving the TV on once Hinata’s gone back home, but the other catches him, a frown on his face. “I can stay, if you want.”
Swallowing down the ‘yes please’, Kageyama shrugs. “You can stay if you want.”
Hinata’s looking at him weirdly again, and Kageyama can tell that he’s dying to ask. The question, what about your parents? hanging in the air, and frankly, Kageyama wishes Hinata to just get the hint already. That they’re not gonna be around until the weekends, even then, he won’t really see them.
Hinata makes a call to his mother instead, telling her he’s staying over again. Kageyama could hear the faint sound of his mother’s voice. He’s never met Hinata’s mum before but he imagines her to be like Hinata, all warm and bright.
Snapping his phone shut, Hinata grins at him, the awkward moment from earlier forgotten, much to his relief. “You up for a game or two?”
Kageyama rolls his eyes. “I’m still sick, idiot.”
Hinata whines. “Come on, just one game and then I’ll let you sleep.”
So they ended up on Kageyama’s bed battling over their DS. One game turns into two, and it might have turned into three if not for Kageyama’s sudden shivering and Hinata’s tendency to overreact. He’s once again bundled up in too many layers of blankets.
Hinata is sitting on his bed, refusing to leave until he falls asleep. Kageyama tells him that’s creepy but he ignores him.
They end up lying next to each other, Kageyema squished to the wall to make room for Hinata as the latter lies on top of the blankets. Hinata is telling him about that one time Natsu got chicken pox. Kageyama feels his eyes droop heavily, the meds kicking in, Hinata’s voice lulling him into a deep slumber.
When Kageyama stirs awake, he is greeted by a pair of amber eyes staring at him. He blinks sleepily, taking in the other boy lying next to him; they are so close, Kageyama notes, Hinata is still staring at him and is making no move to scoot further away, not that he minds the proximity, surprisingly. The morning light illuminating his room through the window is giving Hinata an ethereal glow, and Kageyama wants to laugh because nothing about the other boy is ethereal; he’s loud and annoying most of the time, but there he is nonetheless, glowing.
“You’re still here,” he says, stupidly.
Hinata shrugs. “It’s Saturday.”
“Practice?”
Hinata shakes his head, “No practice today.”
Kageyama hums.
They are blatantly staring at each other now; neither is showing any signs of looking away. Kageyama resists the urge to poke Hinata in the eye, just to make sure he's real, because that would definitely ruin the tranquillity of the moment. He curls his fingers into his pillow instead.
“Hey, Kageyama,”
“Hm?”
“Can I stay over today?”
“Sure.”
Hinata wiggles to get under the layers of blankets, settling in with a huff. Kageyama watches him silently, scooting closer. They both fall asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing.