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Hinata Shoyo died the day he was born.
And the first thing he did was to cry.
For the memories that hurt, but he ached for.
Shoyo woke up with tears streaming down his cheeks. He could feel the rush of grief, excitement, and comfort in his heart. Lost was an understatement as he sat on his bed, wiping the cold sweat forming alongside his wet cheeks.
He blinked. Twice. Thrice. Before sighing. It’s happening again.
When he’s already calm enough, he stood up. He picked up his phone from the bedside table, and looked at the time. It’s just 3:32 AM.
Today’s his last day in Brazil, probably the reason for the rush he always woke up with ever since last week. He’s excited to come home to Japan, join the team he wanted, and beat Kageyama.
Shoyo looked around his room for two years. The volleyball on the floor was gone, his jersey, and jacket hanging on the door was already folded in his luggage. The room he considered his home for two years now felt like an old friend he knew he could always count on, but he wouldn’t try to. He just liked the familiarity, and sense of knowing it had been a while.
He packed the last bits of what was left inside the room, leaving him with the clothes he would wear later, and the jogging pants he was wearing, preparing to jog outside. He went out of his room, and walked away quietly.
Breeze of Rio enveloped him, slapping him on his face in the process. His mind was once again on the dream he thought was already done with him.
—
Shoyo was running, he didn’t know from whom, nor from what. He was just running. The heavy suit he was wearing was hindering him from running faster than he intended, so he removed them as he ran. He could feel the exhaustion, a sign he’d been running for hours, but he could still hear the horses getting nearby.
He wanted to scream out of frustration, but he was afraid they would locate where he was. He pursed his lips, and was about to give up, when an arm suddenly emerged from his right side. He was about to shout, but a hand moved to his lips.
“Shh… do you want to get caught?”
The voice was deep. No, really. It was deep, low, and quiet, careful not to wake the night.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
“Don’t say anything. Trust me on this.”
He didn’t know why, but that moment, it felt as if the sound of the horses vanished, the fear lessened, and he felt secured.
Before he could even look back to see the person, he found himself lying on the ground. Unlike the first place he’d been, he’s now staring at the shining, green light forming on the sky.
“This is so pretty,” he muttered.
Rather than exhaustion, fear, and anxiety, all he could feel was the comfort the whole scene felt. The green lights kept on moving above, shifting from purple to blue, to green again. His heart never felt this light.
“When we come back, what do you want to do?” he said, eyes still staring above. He could feel the soft grass beneath him moving along the wind.
“Do we have to do something?” It was the same deep, low, quiet voice. Same stress, same intonation.
Shoyo chuckled, feeling the warmth despite the coolness of the wind. “Of course, we can’t not do anything, you know,” he answered, voice having the same tone.
He could not see the man, did not choose to, but he heard him smiled. “Then, I want to be with you.”
Shoyo did not answer, but he knew, he wanted that too.
The northern lights moved once again, turning to purple. He was about to answer, until he felt his chest tightened.
The lights were not there anymore. The sky wasn’t dark, and the admiring green, purple, and blue, turned to depressing pink. He wanted to ask what’s happening, but his chest just kept tightening.
“Don’t say anything! The help is on the way—please h—hang on.”
Shoyo knew the same man was the one speaking, but instead of calming deep, low, and quiet sound, he was almost screaming. His voice was painful to hear for Shoyo.
“W—Why are you...crying?” he asked.
“I told you not to follow me, why are you so stubborn!?” The voice was becoming desperate each second. He wanted him to stop talking too, but he wanted to hear his voice as if it would be the last time.
Shoyo smiled to himself. Not knowing what possessed him, he raised his arms. He look at it, wondering where the blood came from. He shrugged it off, closing his eyes. He wanted to look at the face of the person holding as if he was the most fragile being he’s ever hold. He raised his hand higher, and when felt his hand touching the person’s cheeks, he smiled. His hands wander to the person’s cheeks, marveling its smoothness, to his nose, his soft lips. Still having his eyes close, he moved his hands to the person’s eyes. His lashed were long.
“Y—you must b—be so… beautiful,” he whispered. He could only whisper.
“Shoyo!”
“Shoyo!”
Shoyo blinked again, finding himself in the sand of Rio once again. He caught his cheeks, and again, he was crying. He gulped, wiping his cheeks. “Pedro,” he exclaimed, smiling.
Pedro went closer, brows furrowed. “Why the heck are you crying?”
He saw that? He laughed. “I’m not! It’s the sand,” he said, still smiling.
“Do I believe you?” Pedro asked, face void of emotion.
Once again, Shoyo’s laughed resonated the midnight. “Of course, you don’t,” he said, putting his arms over Pedro’s shoulder.
“Of course, I don’t.” Pedro nodded. “So, why are you crying?”
Shoyo’s smile faded at that. “Pedro… do you remember the dreams I told you?”
“Dreams? You mean…” Pedro slackened his pace.
Shoyo nodded, still smiling.
“But… the last time you have those was when you’re still in highschool, right?”
Again, he nodded.
The very first time he had a dream he died was in third year high school, it was a whole week he kept dreaming about this certain man who made him feel roller coaster of emotions. One day, he was happy, until he died the last night before his last tournament.
But the man’s face had always been blurry, and he could not even remember details that much.
“And… I think the dreams are becoming intense, Pedro. I can remember every single thing in my surroundings this time, the feelings was intense that it hurts even after I wake up.”
He wasn’t afraid he would sound weird, because it was Pedro. Pedro never judged.
“Then, can you remember the face of the person you’re with?”
His shoulder slumped. “That’s the only thing I can’t,” he muttered.
Both of them fell silent. The sun hasn’t risen yet, and the place was still quiet as it can ever be. All they could hear was the large strokes of the waves in front of them.
“You know what,” Pedro started, walking behind him, making his brows arch. “Think of those dreams as dreams. You’ll probably get your answers maybe tomorrow, or the next day, who knows.” He shrugged. “So, relax your shoulders,” he put his hands on Shoyo’s shoulders. “And let’s head back. Cook something for me.”
With that, Shoyo finally laugh genuinely. He let Pedro push him towards their apartment as he spoke. “I knew you only want me for my meals,” he jokingly pursed his lips.
“Oh, that’s true.”
Shoyo feigned a shock before jokingly furrowing his brows. “Get ready to eat vegetables, then!”
—
Heaving a sigh, Shoyo dropped the black pen he was holding. He pushed his tongue in his cheeks, leaning on the seat.
Of course, he’s not coming.
He should have said it though, instead of making Shoyo hope for his “I’m coming!”.
“Sir, I apologize for interrupting you, but we’re closing.”
Shoyo shuddered at the deep voice of the man who suddenly spoke. He looked up, eyes dropping on the curly hair of his. Oh, he’s the barista earlier.
He nodded. “O–oh, I’m sorry. I’ll leave right away. Thank you for reminding me.” He smiled.
The barista did not say anything, no, it looked as if he was stunned.
Shoyo smiled again. “Do I have something on my face?” he asked.
The barista blinked, shaking his head.
Before Shoyo could ask the problem, the barista already went back to the counter. He shrugged, and went back to putting his laptop inside his bag, fixing the papers he almost finished.
He went out of the establishment, thinking where to finish his papers. His roommate’s probably still with his groupmates, so he didn’t want to go home yet. He roamed his eyes, and was about to give up when a voice spoke from behind.
“Hey.”
“Oh—oh, hi?” he said, confused. Why was the barista calling him?
Shoyo blinked when a faint red stain enveloped the barista’s ears. Well, it’s cold.
“I hope I’m not wrong, but if you’re looking for a place to finish your papers, you can go behind this coffee shop.” He raised arms, pointing to the left. “It’s actually an extension of the coffee shop, and it’s always open for the students. Just present your ID, though you can’t buy a coffee aside from the basic one.”
As he spoke, Shoyo was nodding his head. He couldn’t help but notice the tired eyes of the barista, suiting his deep and low voice just right.
“Thank you so much! You’re a great help,” he said, grinning.
—
This time, Shoyo woke up with a light feeling. It was the same feelings he felt when he just met the person he kept on dreaming.
It’d been days since he came back to Japan, to Miyagi, and after catching up with his friends, he had to leave again to meet his new team in Osaka.
He already knew who he would be teammates with, and all he had to do was to do what he had always been doing, and stepping that even further.
He was nervous, of course, he would not try to deny that, but his dreams earlier felt so real and somewhat comforting the reason why he’s at ease as he traveled to Osaka.
However, he’d always been doing a great job not to let those dreams distract him. At the end of the day, those are just dreams.
“Hinata!”
“Bokuto-san!”
Excitement was an understatement as Hinata joined Bokuto. Everything felt nice. So… nice! The other guys are nice too. Although Atsumu was quite intense when they met again, he was fun too.
“Omi-omi!”
Shoyo’s smile loosened in unfamiliarity when Bokuto screamed. He looked behind him, and there, he saw a man wearing a plain black shirt, and their jersey shorts. His loose smile completely faded when the man looked up.
“Omi-kun, come here!”
Shoyo watched as Sakusa Kiyoomi went near them. His heart tightened at the sight of the tall man, and it felt like bursting when their eyes met. His breathing hitched at that.
What…
“Shoyo-kun?”
Maybe Sakusa Kiyoomi was familiar because of high school. Maybe, until now he felt starstrucked. Even though he knew they’re going to be teammates, he still felt amazed knowing he would be with the nation’s top player in their high school days.
That’s it.
“Hinata?”
That was probably it.
“Hinata!”
“B—Bokuto-san!” he exclaimed, surprised by Bokuto’s scream in his ear. “W—what’s wrong?”
“Bokkun, you’re making him cry!” Atsumu exclaimed.
“What?”
“Look! His eyes are wet.”
Shoyo blinked. His hand went straight to his eyes, and Atsumu’s right, they were wet. Without thinking, his gaze went straight to Kiyoomi, making their eyes meet again. He gulped.
He did not understand, there’s no connection between him and Sakusa, so why did it feel as if he knew him more than anyone else in this huge gym?
“A—ah, I’m not crying, Atsumu-san! I think I pierced my eyes.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “Anyway, this is Omi-kun—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Shoyo closed his eyes abruptly when he heard that. He caught his head, wanting to leave already, but he composed himself.
“Call him that,” Atsumu smirked. “You probably already know him, so this is just for the sake of formality—”
He was not even listening to what was Atsumu’s saying. His mind was concentrating on the loud beat of his temples, the warm feeling of his cheeks, and to the despair in his heart.
“Right Shoyo-kun?”
His eyes widened. “A–ah, yes! Hello, S—sakusa-san.” He bowed.
“Call him Omi.”
Shoyo blinked repeatedly, eyes gazing back and forth to Atsumu and Bokuto as he thought. “H—hello, Omi-san,” he repeated, grinning, hiding his whatever feeling was this.
He was preparing himself to be told off, but Sakusa just nodded, piercing eyes never leaving him.
—
“So… how do you like your eggs in the morning?”
Shoyo bit his tongue when a loud laugh erupted from him as he asked that. They were the only ones in this large amusement park. It didn’t make sense, he knew.
But, did it have to make sense?
“Why are you laughing?” he asked, laughing with him.
“You sound funny,” he said, eyes wrinkling from laughing.
All they did was laugh. Unrealistically alone in the middle of a huge amusement park.
When Shoyo was done laughing, the sun above them was already out. And he’s alone. His brows furrowed. He looked up, and saw the moon. The sky was clear, dark, but the stars around it seemed to light it up.
“Where’s he?” he muttered to himself.
He looked at himself, and his mouth went ajar when he found himself wearing a light blue polo, folded to his elbow, and black pants. When the wind blew, he shuddered.
“Hey.”
He looked behind. As he did, he almost had a loud gasp, but he held it in him. The man's curly hair seemed to be the most put together it had ever been. His skin Shoyo didn't realize he'd always wanted to touch. His lips that seemed to be always frowning to everyone but him, and his eyes that always sparked something inside him as they illuminated the moon.
He's so beautiful that it hurts.
“You’re here,” Shoyo muttered, not caring whether the man could hear him or not.
“I should be,” the man answered, smiling. “I’m the one who asked you to be here.”
That’s… he couldn’t remember. He’s surprised himself that he's here. In the middle of somewhere he didn’t know, with someone he knew nothing of, but felt the most things he’d ever felt.
“Do you want to take a walk?” he asked.
Shoyo nodded.
The man smiled again, going closer, not too close, but enough to have their hands brushing as they walked. Shoyo could see nothing but the large trees around them, could hear nothing but its loud swaying, and the wind whispering to their ears.
“I think… I think I like you.”
Silenced.
Even more silence ensued between them when the man spoke.
He thought he liked Shoyo.
“You think?”
He nodded, not looking at him, ears and cheeks red which made Shoyo’s heart thump even more. “I think… I think of you, that I can’t think of anything else when I think of you.”
With that, it was Shoyo’s turn to be the reddest thing anyone could see.
—
“Omi-san!”
Shoyo laughed when Sakusa rolled his eyes. They were just finished practicing for tomorrow’s match.
A soft smile escaped Shoyo’s lips as he watched the team making fun of each other. It became a normal occurrence to watch this scene, and it always ended up making him feel special… and fun.
“So… who’s driving tonight?” Atsumu started when they went to the parking lot.
When Shoyo was added to the team, he was assigned to be roommates with Sakusa, Bokuto, and Atsumu. They had their own rooms there, and it became his job to cook for the three. It’s usually him, and Kiyoomi.
“I will, but we’ll drop you off at the apartment first,” Sakusa said, face stoic.
Bokuto’s brow raised, hands on his hip. “And why?”
Sakusa sighed. “Groceries.”
Atsumu blinked. “Ah, right. Can we join, I want to buy something—”
“No,” Sakusa cut him off, making Shoyo chuckle. He knew Sakusa wouldn’t allow that. The last time they went to the grocery with the four of them, the two started playing with the cart, resulting in them almost getting kicked out.
Shoyo wiped the tears of joy in the corner of his eyes. “Just give us a list, Atsumu-san, we’ll buy it for you.”
Atsumu huffed.
When they dropped the two, silence ensued between them. The speakers were blasting a kpop song courtesy of Bokuto.
Shoyo might not say it explicitly, but he was glad Sakusa trusted him enough to be left alone with him to do groceries, he also trusted him enough to cook for them, and sometimes with him.
When they reached the grocery, there weren’t that many people, as expected. Like usual, Shoyo would get the cart, following Sakusa who would put whatever he thought they needed in the apartment.
“Hinata, what’s more…”
And the series of asking for alternatives began. Shoyo was leaning on the cart as he talked about the nutrition facts of the milk Sakusa was holding when he felt an eye gazing at him.
He looked up. “The cal…” his voice halted when their eyes met. There it was again, the loud beat of heart, hammering to get out of its cage. “U—uh… Omi-san?”
Still staring, Sakusa blinked slowly, enthralled. “Ah, yes, I’m listening. I guess we’re going to get this?” he asked, eyes turning to the milk.
Shoyo just nodded. “I—I’m going to get something over there, I’ll be quick.”
He did not wait for Sakusa's approval, and immediately left their spot. As he walked towards the toiletries, he was calming himself. He had so many questions he seemed to have an answer, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He’s becoming frustrated because he kept associating his dreams in real life, but he didn’t even have any evidence even to himself because he couldn’t remember anything about the man in his dreams.
No matter how loud his heart beats whenever he’s with Sakusa, he just couldn’t believe it. He could not be here, making hunch about dreams.
It’s not that he didn't want the man to be Sakusa… rather, he’s afraid.
He’s afraid he wanted it to be him.
Before he could grab the bottle of shampoo, frustration got a hold of him. He held onto the storage, slapping his face using right hand.
“Hinata?”
Shoyo was frozen on his spot when he heard Sakusa's voice behind him. He hadn’t even calmed himself enough, but his heart had started thumping again. “O—omi-san, why—how did you find me here?” he asked, eyes widened, still facing his back on him.
“I don’t know. I—I just figured.”
“Hm... are you done?” This time, Shoyo found the courage to face him.
“Yeah… are you okay? You’re red.”
He didn’t know what possessed him. “So are you.” Both their eyes widened. “I—I mean… I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude—
“No… it’s fine.” Sakusa looked at him. “It’s true anyway,” he said before turning his back.
When they got home, Shoyo could still feel himself red. After what Sakusa said, he’s afraid he wouldn’t be able to function properly. It’s true—what did he mean by that? What should he think?
“Have you—”
“Here, Atsumu,” Sakusa threw something which Atsumu caught.
In his peripheral vision, he could see them talking in their eyes, but Shoyo just smiled humorlessly, walking straight to his room to get some sleep.
Hoping to get answers in his sleep.
—
“Kiyo, smile!” Shoyo grinned as he said those words. When they were done, he looked at their photo, but a frown escaped his lips when Kiyo wasn’t smiling, he’s not even looking at the camera.
Shoyo was about to scold him, but stopped himself when he saw Kiyo’s expression. Kiyo was clutching his head, brows furrowed.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Y—you won’t leave me right?” was what Kiyo said.
Confused, he asked. “What do you mean?”
Kiyo looked up, meeting his gaze. His stares were painful to look at, his eyes didn’t have the sparks Shoyo had always been looking at, rather, his eyes were full of despair. “You won’t, right?”
Shoyo nodded repeatedly. “I won’t, Kiyo, I won’t.”
Kiyo snickered humorlessly. “I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly afraid you’ll leave, that even afterlife, you won’t want another version of me.”
Shoyo didn’t know, but his eyes moistened. “It’s only you, Kiyo. That if the multiverse were real, I would find you… I hope I do, and I’ll still be with you.”
That’s just when Kiyo calmed down. He sighed, lowering his eyes. Shoyo felt Kiyo’s hands wandering as if searching for something so he held out his. He held Kiyo’s hand as tight as he could as he whispered, “I won’t leave Kiyo, I won’t.”
Shoyo was about to say something again, but his eyes widened when the hands he was holding earlier were now replaced by his stomach. No… he was clutching his stomach… his bloodied stomach.
“S—shoyo!”
That voice. That’s Kiyo.
Shoyo tried to open his eyes. It was a different scenario again, and the warmth he felt earlier was replaced by fear. He looked down, only to see the gold tunic he was wearing was almost unrecognizable with the blood.
“K—kiyo…’
—
“K—kiyo… Kiyo…”
“Hinata, wake up!”
“Kiyo…”
“Hinata!”
Shoyo woke up when a large hand tapped his cheeks. He sat down abruptly; he was catching his breath as he did.
“What’s wrong?” It was Bokuto.
“B—Bokuto-san…” his eyes dropped on Bokuto beside him, meeting his worried gaze. His hair was damp and there’s still a towel on his shoulder.
“Are you okay? Who’s Kiyo? Why are you crying?”
Shoyo’s eyes widened. “Kiyo…” with the mention of the name, his eyes started to water once again, but wiped them off. He was catching his breath the whole time, thinking nothing but Kiyo.
“Here.”
A glass of water suddenly came to him. He looked up at the source, meeting the worried gaze of Sakusa. His hair was as damp as Bokuto as he held his hands with water. Their eyes remained to each other, not saying anything but their eyes held thousands of words.
“Shoyo, drink up first.” It was Sakusa, and Shoyo could feel Bokuto’s surprised gaze with how gentle Kiyoomi had ever been.
“W—what’s… no, don’t answer. I’ll leave Hinata to you, Sakusa. Don’t do anything stupid.” That was the most serious Bokuto Shoyo had ever heard, but he couldn’t even process it properly.
When they were left alone, Shoyo could hear nothing but their breaths. He drank from the glass Sakusa—Kiyo, Kiyoomi gave, and he could feel him moving to sit beside him as he did.
“Do you understand what’s happening?” Kiyoomi muttered.
Shoyo, afraid to meet Kiyoomi’s eyes, put the glass on the table. He breathed out, leaning on the soa beside Kiyoomi. He was about to say something, but he was more tense than anything right now, making him drop his hand beside him, but shock went through his nerves when he felt another hand there.
“I—I’m sorry… no I don—I mean… no, I really don’t.”
Did Kiyoomi have an idea about his dreams? Was he having his dreams too? Since when did it start?
“Omi-san—”
“I thought it’s Kiyo?” He could hear a faint smile from him, making Shoyo pursed his lips.
“Now’s not the time, Omi-san!”
Kiyoomi chuckled. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Why are you taking this so lightly?” he asked, still afraid to look at the man beside him.
Really… why… because Shoyo had been asking himself questions since his third year, and now that he quite had an answer… It's confusing.
“I… first started having dreams when I was in second year high school,” Kiyoomi started. "It's probably different perspective from yours, but... you get the idea.'
Shoyo’s eyes widened. So… he’s really having the same dreams? And what did he mean by second year?
“It got intense every time I know I’m going to watch your games… but I dreamt someone dying the night before you got pull-out due to fever… and that was the last time I dreamt about that… that’s what I thought, because it went on when I was in third year… when I knew I was going to see you again,” his voice got lowered as he spoke the last words.
Shoyo was afraid, but he still did. He looked at him, and regretted nothing, when his eyes met the same eyes, his heart sparked for. The same black eyes that held the celestial beings in it.
“I can’t remember anything about you when I wake up, but I usually got a glimpse of your orange hair, so I had a lead of who you were,” he said. “And when I heard you’re coming to the team, the dreams started again… and when I saw you again, that’s when I knew it was you.”
Shoyo felt ashamed, because when he first saw him, he didn’t know it was him, but he knew that’s when he started to wish it was him.
“Why is this happening, though…” he chuckled, leaning on the sofa again.
“Maybe… that’s us in different worlds… maybe, your promise’s too strong,” Kiyoomi answered. “And maybe because, I… still think of you… and I don’t want to think of anything else when I thought of you.”
Shoyo’s eyes watered, remembering the dreams. How strong they were in those... lifetimes? Universe? He gulped. “Then… Omi-san… Kiyo…” he sat properly, looking at Kiyoomi’s eyes. “Kiyoomi… do you want to forget those dreams… and finally live in reality... forget the multiverse, and know each other... here? Where no one dies? Where no one cries?”
Kiyoomi’s eyes widened. He blinked, a tear falling down his cheek which he immediately wiped off. “Let’s do it.” He nodded. “Where no one dies… where no one cries.”