Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dear Red,

Do you ever have those days when you’re no longer sure you’re even human?  

In fact; you’re pretty sure there’s no possibility you’re human.  Because humans, from a very young age, can interact with one another without seeming like a total airhead.

Someone on my team asked me a question in the club room three.  times.  before I realised he was talking to me, and by then it had been such an uncomfortably long moment of silence after, it was too awkward to ask again.  

The worst part?

I still don’t know what he was even asking me.

On the way home, I tried drafting a message to him to apologise, figuring that’s the least I could do.  But the more I wrote, the more I realised I was way over explaining myself.  Which meant I was over thinking.  Which meant I was probably making a far bigger deal over it than I needed to.

But I still felt bad.  So I sent him the text anyway.

You know what he replied with?

‘No worries :)’

And no.  The :) was not even the little picture for :).  It was actually just :). 

I have to see this guy tomorrow.  He’s my underclassman.  He’s supposed to look up to me, but now I wouldn’t even argue with him if he pulled me aside tomorrow and politely asked if I never speak to him again.

I know you’ve never met my teammates, but I promise, he would be able to ask a completely unreasonable request sound totally reasonable.

Unreasonably yours,

Nine

My unreasonable Nine,

Look.  I get it.

Sometimes you just gotta stop and think.  Ya know?  And it’s really not your fault if someone asked you a question during prime thinking time.  Although I am sorry for the :).  You’re definitely not a guy who deserves a :) (derogatory) tacked on to the end of a text after a heartfelt apology.

At least he knows you’re sorry?

Today in class (probably also thinking)(and probably too hard about you) my teacher asked me some abstract question about whatever organism we’re studying in biology, and I snapped out of my thoughts so hard there was a very audible CRACK.  Which was the sound of my knee hitting the desk as I jumped out of my seat.  Which gave away that I was thinking too hard, and not about organisms.

My teacher reprimanded me and I was late to club activities as a result.  

They didn’t like that either.

What I’m trying to get at is: you’re still human.  I’m sure of it.  Maybe the rest of the humans should just stop troubling us when we’re caught in our own thoughts.  Because if your thoughts are anything like your emails, they’re obviously much more interesting than whatever anybody else has to say.

:) (affectionate)

Red

“What’s with the scary face?” Hinata asks me, pressing in way too close for someone who just called my smile scary.

“None of your business!” I reply, quickly locking my phone before he can read the affectionate Red sent me.  Which I’m trying really hard not to think about.  Because I really do need to be on my best behaviour after the incident with my underclassman yesterday.  It still bugs me I have no idea what he was asking me.

“You were probably just looking at new knee pads or something!” Hinata says, finally returning his attention to pulling his training clothes on, while pulling his school uniform off.

I respectfully look away.

It’s not that Hinata doesn’t have a nice body (he’s still way too skinny for a third year, but his muscle definition has come through), and Hinata doesn’t know my secret anyway, so even if I chanced a glance, I doubt he’d think anything of it.  But it feels more disrespectful because he doesn’t know my secret.  Like I haven’t disclosed this really important part of my identity and if I just start ogling his chest in the club room without any context, he’s probably going to think I’m judging him for not bulking up enough yet.

Which I kind of am anyway.

But not in front of him.

Thankfully, he’s always too eager to get to practice, so he probably wouldn’t have noticed even if I was ogling him.

Not that I would.

Because he doesn’t know.

Not about Red, I mean, although he doesn’t know about him either.  

“You’re not gonna ignore our underclassmen again, are you?” Hinata asks me.  When I cast a look out of the corner of my eye, I see he’s finished pulling on his gym clothes and is crouched down to tie his shoes, so I deem it safe to turn back around.

“I told you, I wasn’t ignoring him!  I just have a lot on my mind!”

“How?  It’s all air in there anyway.” Tsukishima appears behind us, like a ghost, dumping his school bag into the corner.  Yamaguchi trots in behind him.

“Hey!” I, and to my surprise, Hinata, yell back.

“Whatever,” Tsukishima says, wearing that vaguely annoyed, vaguely he-doesn’t-actually-care look that makes him seem constipated.  “Just don't traumatise them too much before inter-high starts.”

“I’m not…I didn’t!”

“Used your allotted number of big words for the day, Kageyama?”

Something is building inside of my chest.  A heat I can’t contain but don’t want to set loose.  I only grab my sneakers and storm out, not apologising for knocking his shoulder with mine on the way.

Where does he get off making fun of me just because my words don’t always work?  Just because he finds it so easy to get good grades and keep up with volleyball practice?  

I don’t stop stomping until I get into the gym, where it’s blessedly quiet.  I quickly pull on my sneakers, and start warming up, alone, composing a reply back to Red in my mind as a way to distract myself.

Red,

We’ve determined neither of us are book smart.  It’s why this assignment was surprisingly so easy.  And see, I thought there was probably a time I wouldn’t even have been able to spell ‘surprisingly’ with the correct numbers of Ss or whatever, but now I know that’s just someone else talking.  Someone else outside of my body, who I don’t have the right words to tell to shut the hell up, because my words don’t work outside of my body like I wished they would.  Someone who happens to be in my club but is such a massive asshole about it.

And it wasn’t until you did I realise I could make them work at all.

I think the point I’m trying to make is; I wish it was always this easy.  Maybe if I asked that asshole for his email address so I could write down every comeback I’ve ever composed two hours after he’s already whittled away at whatever confidence I might have had that day, he’d realise hey.  I actually do use my brain.  And not just for club.

But if I asked him for his email then he’d probably have a few more colourful replies that would make me feel twice as stupid, negating the whole plan to begin with.

Anyway.  I better get going before he sees me writing this and asks if I’m practising my ABCs.  Or I might actually punch him and get detention for real.

A little bit smarter with you around,

Nine

Okay Nine,

You’re way smarter than even all that.  

Remember when I couldn’t think of the word for ‘hammock’ and I kept calling it a ‘porch sock’.  You thought I was crazy, and after two days of me just calling it a ‘porch sock’, you finally put me out of my misery and reminded me, and I quote, “hey, scrub, it’s actually called a hammock”.

I promise I will never live that one down, and I’m only reminding you of it now because I care about you and want you to feel as smart as I know you actually are.

Don’t ever say I didn’t do anything for you.

I know the kind of asshole you’re talking about though.  There’s one in my club too, and there’s been many times I’ve considered putting the staple gun to his forehead and seeing how many I can fire into his scalp before I’m stopped.

My guess?

Twenty-two.  I’ll have to get someone smart to check the math though.  Wanna volunteer?

By the by, it might not be the way you’re using your words, but who you’re using them with.  I have to email my dad if I ever want to hear from him at all.  He’s always too busy and in some messed up timezone for us to have a proper conversation over the phone, so it’s how we keep in touch, and let me just say, our emails to each other are definitely not nearly as detailed or refined as when I write to you.

You make it easy for me as well.

I should go too, but just know your brain is beautiful and if I could, I’d kiss it better.

Porch socks for life,

Red

He called me pretty.

He wants to kiss me.

Okay, he called my brain pretty and said he’d like to kiss that, but I count it.  Nothing could have put me in a better mood.  Nothing.   Even though the new move Hinata and I have been struggling with worked three times in a row today.  Everyone was so ecstatic to finally see us make some progress with it, that underclassmen I accidentally ignored yesterday high-fived me, so I think I’m also forgiven for that.

But Red calling me pretty is still the highlight of my day.  Even if he did tell it to my brain.  And he doesn't know what I look like.  I feel like I’m walking on clouds as I make my way home.  

Hinata came into the gym after my initial storm out, and asked if I was alright.  For some reason, I knew he was being genuine.  That he knows just as well as anyone how easy Tsukishima gets under the skin, and picks apart at your insecurities until you’re wearing them on your sleeve.  But more than anything, I didn’t want to think about it.  Or Tsukishima, so I just grumbled an I’m fine and slammed the ball over the net instead, the sound of it drowning out any last comforts Hinata had to give.  Hinata rushed over so we could start receiving practice, which was the greatest comfort of all.

So he’s also kind of an airhead, and seriously annoying, but at least he kind of knows how to make me feel better.

Unlike my mother, who only nods at me in greeting, pointing to the phone pressed to her ear as an explanation of why she’s not actually greeting me while we do our daily crossing of paths in the entryway.  I only nod back and head to the kitchen to reheat dinner.  I hear the front door open and shut behind me, and know I’m alone again for the night.  Fine by me; it means I can use the big screen downstairs and email Red without fear of my mother walking in and looking at it over my shoulder.

Volleyball match playing, rice and tofu steaming on a plate, and my laptop open beside me.  It’s a pretty good night.

Okay Red, hear me out.

I’m usually careful about how and when I email you.  Forgetting to log out of a school computer with my account still open for anyone to find is my worst nightmare.  Leaving my phone around in the club room or at practice and that asshole guy reading the preview of your email before I can delete the notification (don’t worry, I always remember to read it later).  And always locking my bedroom door at home.

Then it occurred to me, for my mother to want to read my emails over my shoulder, she’d actually have to care about what I’m doing when she’s not around.  And considering she’s never around and has never expressed any interest in what I do, I could probably project our emails on a wall in the front room and she still wouldn’t notice, much less take the time to read them.

Not that I would ever do that anyway.  Our emails are ours.  That’s how I like it.  That’s how I want it to stay.

Do you ever think about coming out?  I’ve thought about it several times.  Always on the rare occasion my mum is home for longer than a few minutes, or telling my friends when we’re eating lunch on the roof.  Just slipping it into conversation for a little bit.  It’s not like I want it to be a big deal, but I know anyone I’ll tell, they’ll make it a big deal.  When really, what does it change about me, other than I won’t be taking a girl to the school festival?  Or trying to impress the dance club during practice?

But I know once it’s out, it will change everything.  I don't think I'm ready for anything to change.

Anyway…another night in, alone on the couch!  And the only thing my mum will notice I’ve done is if I’ve taken some of her good ice cream.

What do you think?  Do I dare anyway?

Also, next week is golden week.  Club during golden week always takes way more of my time and energy, which isn’t a bad thing, but it does mean I’ll miss you more.  Reception out at the cabin is spotty.  And before you say anything; I’ve done it twice before already.  It’s not some set up for a horror movie, not that you’ve ever seen any, because your taste in movies is terrible.

Still like you the most though.

Nine

From what I can piece together of Red’s homelife, he has a pretty active one, so his replies are slower at night, but it doesn’t stop me from refreshing my account every thirty seconds between rallies.  When the game is over, I switch over to Netflix and flick through the movies, settling on one I remember Red recommending me last week.

They’re usually kids movies, or at least movies where nobody dies and everyone lives happily ever after, but I don’t mind even if it's not my taste, because it’s something else Red and I can talk about later.  Even if he always tells me my compliments are ‘backhanded’ and that I’m ‘missing the point’.  I let myself smile at the memory, refresh my account again (nothing) so settle in for ninety minutes of Disney princesses trying to reverse some strange spell that was entirely their fault to begin with.

I promise, it’s not weird that I only know Red through email.  It was a school assignment.

Our modern english teacher, Miss Baxter, got us to make new email accounts on the school server, under new names, because we’d be writing emails to someone she would randomly assign us.  The catch?  It would be totally anonymous.  Why?  No idea.  I think she said it had something to do with experimenting about how we perceive others and how others perceive us.  I’m sure she explained it better than that, but as we’ve already determined, I spend a lot of time trying to pay attention and not a whole lot of time actually paying attention.  

But I was assigned Red.  Not his real name; we each had to choose an alias.  Our first emails to each other were pretty awkward, only a few sentences each, mostly about the weather, and how dumb the assignment was.

As we got more familiar with each other, we started writing about other stuff, still mostly relating to school, because disclosing anything else still felt too awkward for the both of us.  I learnt he loves his club so much he wants to continue to do it professionally after we graduate.  I told him I feel the same, but I want to travel the world when I do it.  I learnt he likes baking, but he’s not very good at it, and he’s really close with his club’s manager.  I told him I don’t have a big sweet tooth, but back in first year, I could never say no to my upperclassmen when they bought me sweets after practice, so now I have them after practice out of habit.

Then one night, my sister was home, and she and mum were at each other’s throats again.  The house was loud for once, but in no way that was good and it was making me anxious, so I ran upstairs to hide in my room.  In a fit of frustration, despair and, I think most of all, loneliness, I wrote an email only two words long.  All it said was.

Red,

I’m gay.

Nine.

And then I passed out. 

Of course, I woke up in the morning, remembered what I’d done, and spent the whole morning simultaneously too scared to check my emails and also needing to check them more than anything.  Miss Baxter had made it very clear from the beginning that we were to write nothing inappropriate through these emails, and if someone did, to bring it to her immediately.  She’d find the source (she had a list) and they would be reprimanded accordingly.  My stomach was in knots all morning.  I missed so many digs during morning practice, I made Hinata look good comparatively.  I face planted my diving receives and ended up with a bloody nose.  I couldn’t think about anything other than that I had just disclosed my biggest secret ever to a complete stranger.

I went to modern english expecting to be pulled aside instantly.  I expected someone in the class to be avoiding my eyes, making a point not to look at me, and as a result, making it way too obvious who had ratted me out, and I'd had have no way to blame them.

Who would want to know this random person you were meant to be writing to for a stupid modern english assignment bats for the other team?  That he’s in your class?  That he might even sit next to you?

But I got through the whole class without any incident.  Everyone was acting completely normal.  Too normal in fact (or that might have been the paranoia).  Either way, by the time class was over and I was able to escape to a hidden corner of the school and finally work up the courage to check my emails, I found the most glorious reply waiting for me.

Nine,

Me too.

Red

And so through our mutual love of, well, men, we started writing to each other far more in depth than was strictly necessary for the assignment.  And then the assignment was over, we handed in our reports (sans the aforementioned big secret)(the first and probably only A I’ve ever received), but we kept our email accounts.  We continued to write to each other.

To confide in each other.

To flirt with each other.

There’s very little I know about Red, and yet I feel like I know everything important.

We keep it distant.  We keep it vague enough to keep each other's identities a secret, but not so vague that it still feels like we're talking to strangers.  And it works for us.  It means I can tell Red anything and everything, with none of the identifying features that make it mortifying to do so.  

For example, I told him how terrified I am of the dark.  Still.  And at last year's away camp for club, because I obviously couldn't bring a night light as a second year, I strategically placed myself as close to the window as possible, thinking maybe the light of the moon would give me some sense of safety.  And then it was cloudy all week and I couldn’t sleep anyway.

But Red doesn’t know it’s one of the tallest third years in the school and volleyball club vice captain that still has this debilitating, and frankly, embarrassing fear.  Just like I don’t know who the guy in my year is who was responsible for burning down the home ec room last year, and subsequently putting the school in a very heavy and expensive legal battle, which almost shut the school down entirely.

My secrets usually border on the embarrassing, but I’m kind of terrified of some of the secrets Red has shared with me.  Terrified in a good way. 

Despite knowing I like guys for a while now, Red is the first guy I’ve ever liked.  Sugawara always used to give me heart palpitations (and several embarrassing boners) in first year, but I wouldn’t count that as a crush.  At least not like I have on Red.

It was only last month, during a late night email chain when Red and I were in a heated argument over what is the best movie snack (it’s hot cheetos or bust, by the way) that I realised how much I like him.  How much I look forward to his emails and his stories and his compliments that, for once, feel genuine.  I like how easy it is to talk to him, because it’s never easy to talk to anyone.  I like how sometimes his emails will stop mid sentence, and I’ll have to wait hours for the rest of it, because he got distracted and hit send before he could finish his thought and then promptly forgot to finish his thought at all and only remembered when he was in the middle of wondering why I hadn’t replied yet.

That’s another thing that kind of makes me so giddy.  Imagining Red waiting for me.  

Because I’d wait for him.  I am waiting for him.

My daring Nine,

Please, I’m begging you, I need to know.  Did you do it?  Did you steal the ice cream?  If so, what flavour?  We always have our freezer stocked with popsicles (raspberry, lime and orange) for my sibling, but she’s cute and shares them with me when we’re watching movies together.  And the movies are always great because I have amazing taste, actually.

About golden week: pretty good timing honestly, because I'll be away too.  Our replies might be even slower than slow.  I’ll miss you terribly, but at least I’ll have essays of gossip to share with you when I get back.

Club during golden week is chaotic.  Someone is always sick, someone is always playing pranks and my own club asshole is always telling us all to shut the hell up and go to sleep even though it’s only 8.30 and we’re teenage boys stuck in a room together.  What did he expect?

But it’s fun and I’m looking forward to it!  There’s a guy in my club who always sleep talks so I make sure to get the spot beside him.  He never says anything I can make sense of, but I know one day he’ll spill a really juicy secret I can use against him.  Plus, our manager always brings us brownies on the last day!

If I ever get the recipe from her, I want to share them with you.

In answer to your other question, of course I’ve thought about coming out.  My family is pretty open about that kind of stuff, so I don’t think they’d care.  My friends are pretty cool too.  But, and for the same reasons you are, I can’t bring myself to say anything.  I agree with you; everything will change, when nothing has to.

Too bad the world just isn’t us and no one else.  We wouldn’t have to come out to each other, and we could skip straight to talking about the more important things, like that your movie snack choice is terrible and I wish you’d reconsider.

But I like you all the more anyway,

Red

He must like me.  Like, like like me.  You don’t offer to share baked goods with a specific person if you only kind of like them as a maybe friend.  

“You’ve got that creepy look on your face again,” Hinata says, his fuzzy head of hair that’s far fuzzier than usual appearing at my elbow.

I still can’t get the smile to disappear, despite just being called creepy again.

“It’s just a good day,” I say simply.  That’s right.  My mood is so good I don’t even want to bite back.  I know Hinata is looking at me weirdly as a result.

“Uh…okay?”  A moment of silence I can almost pass as peaceful hangs between us.  “I mean, I guess it is the start of training camp!” Hinata starts babbling.  “It’s almost the best time of year!  Besides when we go to nationals.”

I huff.  “Wrong again.”

“Huh!?” Hinata makes a face at me, brows furrowed, ready to be insulted.

“Best time of year is when we win nationals!”

His face softens as he mirrors my determined grin.  

“Yeah!  Of course!”

“This is a pretty close second though,” I say, stretching my arms above my head.  The morning started pretty cool but it’s rapidly warming.  Of course we’re the first ones here, too.  It’s been like this every year.  And I don’t mean we’re a few minutes early and just happen to be the first ones here; it’s one of our ongoing competitions.  All three years though, we’ve managed to arrive at the exact same time.  “Playing volleyball for a week straight.  What could be better?”

Hinata stretches too, bending so far back he almost topples off the bench.  I grab his jacket and yank him back upright before he goes over.

“Nothing!  Except-”

“Except winning nationals again.”

“Exactly!”

There’s more silence.  Usually, this kind of silence between us doesn’t weigh on me.  It’s comfortable and light, just a product of both of us awake slightly too early, but Hinata is stiff, wiggling on the bench beside me, and it makes me think he’s trying to figure something out.  Like how to say something he otherwise wouldn’t.

“H-hey, Kageyama?” He starts, and his voice shakes with nerves.  I hum gently, to let him know I’m listening.  “Are you-”

There’s a scuffle of footsteps on gravel behind us.  We turn, the rest of the third years heading toward us.

“And I tried so hard to be late,” Tsukishima says.  We know he’s joking though.  As loud as he wears his ‘don’t care, never did’ attitude, Tsukishima actually really cares a lot.  It’s what makes him a good captain.  He’ll never hear that coming from me, however.

“Wouldn’t do you any good anyway,” Hinata replies.  “You’re still stuck with us for a whole week!”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes.  We end up having a much more friendly conversation with Yamaguchi and Yachi while waiting for the rest of the team.  The first years are next to arrive, always so eager for their first training camp.  Second years are next, still excited but the novelty of staying home for a week with a bunch of friends has worn off slightly.

Training starts soon after, Coach Ukai giving us a day to work on the bare basics.  He wants to get all the underclassmen decent at receiving and diving digs before we start inter-high, although they’re all better than Hinata ever was at this stage, so it’s a lot easier to train them.

Which I make a big deal of telling them.

“I wasn’t that bad!” Hinata whines, also while missing a receive so it bounces too high off his elbows and ends up flying off in a random direction.

“Sure, scrub!  Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

The first years laugh.  It makes me kind of proud I can make anyone laugh.  Make anyone laugh not at me anyway.  Tsukishima seems to be keeping his distance from me, small mercies.  I’m still sour at him for the other day, and he’s obviously in no rush to apologise.

“Alright!” Coach Ukai calls.  “Break for lunch.  Drink lots of water, but don’t eat too much.  After this, we’ll split up into threes for practice games.”

First day is whatever lunch we can bring from home, which means there's a variety of packed to the brim lunches and convenient store bought bento boxes.  The first and second years sit in a big circle together, and while it’s not like we feel excluded, us third years always end up on the outskirts anyway.

Yachi is sure to walk around asking anyone if they need her to refill their water bottle.  It’s entertaining to watch some of the first years shake their heads, vehemently refusing, despite their water bottles rolling on the floor, empty, beside them.  Yachi has really come into her own, and she carries the same confident yet supportive air Kiyoko did when we were first years.  I still don’t understand what the fuss is about having a pretty girl on the team, but I suppose no one would get it if I was making the same fuss about Red if he were to walk through the door just now and declare his love for me.

“Kageyama?  Is that all you have?” Yachi asks, officially free of her duties and opening her own lunch.  Everyone glances to my food.  I didn’t think it was that bad?  A few power bars, some pickled vegetables and a lot of white rice.  I shrug, taking a huge sip from my own water bottle (that I filled myself).

“It’s just what I had lying around at home,” I said.  “We’re fed the rest of the week anyway.”

“ Geez, Kageyama!” Hinata frowns at my lunch like it smells.  “I thought you were rich or something!”

I roll my eyes.  “I am not rich!  Mum wasn’t home this week and I didn’t have time to shop.  Cause, ya know?  I was getting ready for golden week!”

“Here!  Have some of mine!” Yachi attempts to fill my nearly empty box with some of her own stuff but I pull it away before she can.

“I’m not taking your lunch, Yachi.  I’m fine!” I say, using my long arms to my advantage, and keeping the offending container far from her reach.

“But you’re exerting yourself way more than I am!”

“You work just as hard as I do.”

“That’s objectively not true.”

“I’m not taking your food, Yachi,” I say again.

“Fine,” she sighs, finally halting her attempts at leaning over to give me any of her lunch.  “Then please enjoy some of Hinata’s.”

“I will.  Wait.  What?” My bento box is suddenly full of fried rice, apple slices, those little sausages mums (but not mine) cut into the little octopi shapes and some cucumber sandwiches in the shape of stars.  I look up to see Hinata finishing basically the same in his own bento.

“You runt!” I say, attempting to give it back, rather weakly though.  I have to admit, Hinata’s mum makes really nice fried rice.  She uses a lot of sesame oil and gives it this really nutty flavour which I didn’t know I loved until I went over to their place for dinner one night.

Hinata finishes in record time and slams his lid back on his box, effectively cutting off any access to it and any chance of returning the food.  

“Done!” He yells triumphantly, grains of rice stuck to the corner of his mouth.  “I’m gonna go wash up and then head to the bathroom!”

And he’s off, jogging away, singing this week's rendition of the potty song.

Yachi giggles beside me.  “We just care about you Kageyama.”

I grumble some sort of thanks and just eat the food, which is just as delicious as I suspected it would be, secretly thankful for them both as I do.

I finally found a spot in the cabin where my emails will download that’s not in one of the main areas and putting my business in view of everyone else.  I have to lean out of the second floor window so far I’m in danger of falling out, or dropping my phone, but at last I can read Red’s reply.

Nine,

I’ll make this quick.  Because let’s just say in order to get the service I need to write this, I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be, and if I’m found I’ll be sent home and not only would that be really embarrassing, but I would cry about it, which is even more embarrassing.

Golden week is going well!  My friend is being as stubborn as ever.  He doesn’t have a great home life, and sometimes what little signs he shows of it worry me, but I guess we can all team up to make sure he gets lots of mum kisses from our manager (and I’m pretty sure she likes him anyway) while we’re here.  It’s almost 8.30, so the asshole is going to tell us to start going to bed any minute now.  And someone has already thrown up in the showers.

If it was me, you will never know.

It’s been fun, but I still miss you heaps.  

Eagerly waiting for your reply,

Red

He misses me?  That means he likes me.  He wouldn’t just miss me (and miss me heaps) if we were only friends.  It’s times like this I want to ask him out so badly.  I know we’re in a mutual understanding that the emails are working for us; there’s no pressure to be or act a certain way.  We can just be ourselves, our real selves, with one another.  No bullshit around.

But I want to meet him.  I want to ask him out.  I don’t even know where we’d go, but even if we just went to the park and passed around the volleyball, or any ball, that’d be nice.  That’s something I want to share with him.

It takes a whole balancing act on my part and I have to twist my fingers uncomfortably to tap out a reply, but I do anyway.

Red,

What is it about away camps with no service and going somewhere you’re not allowed to be to get it?  Isn’t that dangerous?  I know the teachers still have landlines or whatever, but sticking all of us in a group together with no technology seems like they’re just asking for us to run rampant, and then they still get mad at us when we do?

I’ll never understand adults.

I’m glad your week is going well!  I still haven’t made up with my own asshole in club, and we’re doing a fantastic job of ignoring each other.  I can tell coach thinks we’re being stupid, he called us ‘dang youngins’ which he only calls us when he’s really frustrated with us, but I’m not the one who needs to apologise for being a Class A Jerkwad.

I wish you were here.

We could team up against the jerkwad together.  I have a feeling we’d be unstoppable.

Keep thinking of me,

Nine

The little whoosh noise finally sounds and I let out a sigh of relief.

“Watcha doing?”

And promptly almost drop my phone like I mentioned before I was so afraid to do.  I also jerk upwards so hard my head hits the edge of the window, which makes me let out a colourful word I shouldn’t be saying with first years somewhere in the house.  The giggle comes from above, however, and after cautiously leaning out the window and twisting around, I spy Hinata sitting on the very edge of the roof.

“What the hell are you doing up there, runt?” Followed by the much more important question.  “How did you even get up there?”

Hinata, clutching his own phone in his fingers, points to our right.  “There’s a ladder on the balcony.  I think some serviceman left it here when they were doing maintenance last week.”

I find the ladder and trail up to the roof.  The roof tiles make clacky noises under my feet and I’m careful of one slipping out from beneath me and sending me sprawling to the bushes below.  I make it to Hinata in one piece however.

We sit together for a moment, silently, feeling the night breeze.  The house is old and has no ventilation, so it’s pleasant up here.

“Did you just come up here for some air?” I ask.

Hinata shrugs.  “Something like that.”  I hum in acknowledgement.  “What about you?  What’s got you so desperate to use your phone?”

A little shiver goes up my spine, realising if he had been sitting any closer, he could have seen my email to Red.

“Oh, just, telling mum I’m okay.”

Hinata frowns at me.  “You know you’re terrible at lying.”

I grind my teeth together, my mind swimming for any other kind of excuse.

“It’s fine,” Hinata says, waving a hand to dispel my desperate need to give him an answer.  “I won’t say anything if you don’t.”

Relief washes over me.

“Thanks.”

We sit there in silence for a few more beats, the cicada calls almost too loud, but thankfully the moon is out and glowing.  I might actually be able to sleep tonight.  Then I remember this morning.

“What were you going to ask me before?” I ask him.  

It’s Hinata’s turn to stiffen, suddenly making it a point to not look me in the eye, a hand mussing up his already mussed hair.

“Oh.  That.  Well…” he trails off.

“Spit it out, we’ve got to get to bed.”

Hinata flounders some more.  He seems to calm suddenly though, as if resigning himself to some kind of unwanted fate, before turning to face me with big, earnest eyes.  It kind of takes my breath away.  I’ve never noticed how big his eyes are before, and I realise now how they take up half of his face.  They’re really expressive too.  I can almost tell exactly what he’s thinking right now; which is weird because usually I can never tell what anyone’s thinking ever.

“Kageyama,” he starts.  “Are you…um.  I mean, do you like…”

After some more backwards and forwards with himself, he finally just takes a big breath, and says nothing.

“Never mind,” he says instead, sounding almost defeated.  “It was stupid anyway.”

Coming from him?  Probably.  But even I can tell when it’s the wrong time to say something like that.

“Ask me later,” I tell him.  Hinata clutches his phone between his hands so hard I’m surprised the screen doesn’t crack.

“Yeah.  Thanks.”

Then it’s silent again, and we sit for a few more minutes before we hear Tsukishima calling for everyone to start heading to bed.

“There he goes.  Right on time,” Hinata mutters, a giggle coming from his lips.  He unlocks his phone, seemingly to check the time.  “It’s not even 8.30!  What a grandpa!”

I stand up too, and with both of us clinging to each other, it’s a little easier to make our way over the uneven roofing.  “Let’s call him gramps all day tomorrow.”

“First one to get a reaction out of him gets the biggest piece of chicken at dinner?”

“You’re on!”

We manage to get back inside unscathed and unseen.  Setting up our futons doesn’t feel as final as I thought it might.  I know we’re all going to stay awake long after lights out anyway.  Whispering secrets between one another and gossiping over which girls we think are the prettiest.  Well, they’ll be gossiping over which girls they think are the prettiest.  I’ll remain awkwardly silent the whole time, writing emails to Red in my mind, the only pretty person I could possibly care about.

I don’t even know what Red looks like, but I know he’s pretty because he makes me feel pretty when he calls me that, despite not knowing what I look like either.

Yamaguchi is rolling out his futon beside mine when Hinata asks him to switch places with him.

“Why do you want to sleep next to me so badly, dumbass?  I’m not holding your hand to the bathroom or whatever!”

Hinata cackles as he dumps his cover on top so it’s just a mound of blankets beside mine.

“Because you sleep talk!”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes, you do!  And I’m waiting for the day you let out something seriously juicy!  Then I’ll blackmail you to give me the best tosses ever!”

He’s such an idiot, I want to smother him with his own pillow.

“I’m going to send you the best tosses anyway, dunce!  They need to be the best so you can spike the best so we can be the best and win!”

This causes Hinata to flounder again.

“Y-yeah…well!  You’re my rival!  It’s unfair I don’t have anything over you!”

I just roll my eyes and get settled under the covers.

“Whatever.  It’s not like you’ll hear anything I say, even if I do sleep talk.  You always fall asleep first anyway.”

We spend some more time arguing, before even Ukai gets sick of us and tells us all to shut up and rest up or we can give up and go home.  He’s really good with the pep talks.  True to my theory, Hinata is snoring softly in about five minutes, while I wait for my eyes to adjust to the dark and mind my building anxiety.  Thankfully, the moonlight is doing its job and casting a blue glow over the room, like I wished it had last year.  It lights the darker corners and reminds me I’m not alone, and it’s safe enough to fall asleep.

It’s just as I’m settling, sleep comfortably soothing over me and making my limbs heavy and my head foggy,  when it all hits at once.

And suddenly, sleep is the farthest thing from my mind.

Nine,

Remember how I said our manager has a crush on my friend?  The stupidly stubborn one?  Well, apparently she’s going to ask him out today!  I’ve been trying to gauge whether he likes her back or not, but it always feels too awkward to ask.  We’re not the best of friends or anything, but how do you find the right moment to ask someone who they like like?

He’s never shown any interest in her?  But I don’t really take that as a bad sign; just that he’s a little distracted by club.  Which makes sense, us being here and all.

Do you think, if we knew who each other was, we’d be this insufferable too?  Would one of my friends be asking you if you liked me?  Would one of your friends be asking me if I liked you?

The answer would be yes, of course, but even knowing that information, would we then take a million years to ask each other out?  I like to think no, that’d we’d just go for it and see what comes of it.  I’m not a fan of wasting time, and not knowing the answer kind of makes it more fun.  But I suppose it’s a lot easier to say all this, knowing we won’t have such an opportunity, at least not for now.

Maybe one day.

Red

Hinata is Red.

Red is Hinata.

Hinata and his flaming red hair.

I know he (Red) is waiting for me to reply. Thankfully golden week is keeping both of us busy, so I don’t have to reply yet.  And think of a reason why I didn’t reply right away.  But I can't work up the courage to write to him (Red) knowing it's him (Hinata).  

It’s funny how obvious it is now that I know.  That we’re both away on golden week and don’t have cell service.  That we both have a jerk on our team who bosses us around and makes us go to bed at 8.30.  He’s worried about my homelife, and shared his lunch with me yesterday.  I can even remember last week, Red mentioned he got in trouble for spacing out in class, and was late to club that day.  So was Hinata.

I've been waiting so long to find out who Red is, but I didn't even consider the possibility I might not like the answer!  I keep trying to find holes in this theory.  Maybe I’m wrong.  I’ve never wanted to be wrong so badly in my life.  But everything Red has mentioned about himself matches Hinata to a T.  Hinata has a younger sister, so he probably keeps popsicles stocked in the freezer for her.  I don’t know anything about Hinata’s dad, which stands to reason why they have a relationship mostly over email.  Red said he has someone in his club who sleep talks, and then Hinata announces he waits for me to say something stupid so he can use it against me.

There are no holes.  The mystery is over.  And I’m not okay with the answer.

On top of all that, now I have Yachi to worry about!  

Of course I didn’t notice that she liked me.  She’s so nice to everyone, how was I supposed to notice she’s extra nice to me?  And Hinata is trying to push us together, like some creepy matchmaker gremlin.

“Kageyama!” One of my underclassmen call, and I blink back to the present just in time to hear the ball land on the floor behind me.  “What’s the point of spiking practice if you won’t block?”

I stammer an apology, feeling my cheeks burning, and force myself to pay attention.  Right.  Both of us are distracted.  Both of us are busy.  I’ve got some time to sort this shit out, and figure out how to tell Red, or Hinata, that this has to end.

“Kageyama, can you come with me for a second?”

I almost spit the sandwich in my mouth onto the ground.  Hinata laughs at me while I choke, but slams my back in silent support.

“I…what?  Why?”

Yachi waits for me to clear my throat and for my eyes to stop watering.

“I just need a little help, if you don’t mind.”

I do mind.  I really, really do mind.

“Go on, Kageyama,” Hinata shoves me toward her.  “You go help Yachi, I’ll clear the court for our three-on-threes.”

I look to him, begging for help with my eyes, which he doesn’t see because this is what he wants.  He wants to push Yachi and I together, despite having been flirting with me for months now.  And I’ve been flirting with him.

My head is a mess.  This is all a mess.

“Uh, sure, Yachi,” I agree, slumping forward to follow her out the gym and toward the outdoor water tank.

I figure if I can just tell her I’m not interested, if I can get this over with, it’ll be one less mess amongst the rest of the mess.  And honestly, Yachi will be so busy with the underclassmen and helping Coach Ukai and Takeda sensei, we won’t have time to feel awkward around each other.

Or, she could get really mad at me, call me a jerk, tell everyone else I’m a jerk, and then no one will talk to me for the rest of the week.  No one will want to play volleyball with me, and I’ll have to be benched.  At a fucking training camp.

But I can’t just say yes?  Hinata has told me I’m a terrible liar, which I am, and I don’t want to lie to Yachi.  She’s my friend.  She deserves my honesty, even if it might hurt her.  And me.  

Oh, fuck, I’m spending the rest of golden week on the bench, aren’t I?

We stop at the water tank, under the shade of the tree, which feels like a momentary relief compared to the scorching sun and my flaming feelings making my stomach burn.

“Y-yachi?” She hums to show she’s heard me.  I swallow, but it doesn’t go down, so I choke again.  She turns to me, concerned.  “Yachi, I just need to say this!”

She pauses, confusion on her face.  She really does have a pretty face, and any guy would be lucky to be getting a confession out of her.  I’m just not that lucky guy.  I can’t be.

“Kageyama?  Are you sick?  Do you need some of Hinata’s nausea medicine?”

I shake my head, swallowing my anxiety again.  “No, I just need to tell you, that I think you’re a really great friend!”

She's still silent as she raises one eyebrow, a nervous smile on her face.  “I think you’re a really great friend too, Kageyama.”

God, she sounds so genuine.  

“R-right,” I continue.  “And, I want to keep being your friend!”  The confusion on her face deepens.  Until it morphs to worry.  “And, look, I really don’t want to be benched this week.  It’d be really embarrassing for the vice captain to be benched at training camp, but I also don’t want to lie to you.  Because you’re a really great friend.  So I just have to say: I’m sorry, but I can’t accept your feelings!”

I hang my head, finally done, finally the words are out.  I clutch my towel in my hand, feel the sweat roll down the back of my neck, and try to keep my heart from jumping out of my throat and onto the ground where it wants to roll away.  It’s silent between us for such an uncomfortably long time, and I begin to think Yachi might be winding up to yell at me, or worse, cry.

“O-oh. Right,” she says instead.

Then we both stand there in more uncomfortable silence.

To help move this along, and also for something, anything to do with my hands, I grab both cages of the now full waterbottles Yachi has been standing beside.

“I’ll take these back,” I say, and try to hurry away from her without it seeming like I’m hurrying away from her.

Once I get back, Hinata bounces up to me, and I can’t help glaring at him.  He did this.  He’s stupid enough to do this.  Hinata frowns back.

“What?  What’s with the look?  Are you constipated?”

I scoff, huff, and drop the waterbottles at his feet with a loud crash.

“Dumbass.”

He yells at me the entire way back to my place on the court, asking me why I’m in such a pissy mood. I don’t answer him, just begin tossing balls to distract him, which works, though he follows along with a scowl also on his face.

It’s not like I can tell him what’s wrong even if I wanted to.

That he’s the one I’m meant to be in love with.  That he’s the one I thought understood me more than anyone all these months.

That he’s the one I could never be with.

Red,

I’m going to have to stop emailing you for a couple of days.  Golden week is busier than I thought, and we’re in such tight quarters anyway.  After all, I wouldn’t want anyone to see this over my shoulder.  

Nine.

The dawn of the third day brings with it such a bad headache I almost call in sick.  Almost.  But that would mean missing volleyball.  It’s the only thing that gets me out from under my covers and down toward the dining room for breakfast.  It’s also the only excuse I have for not emailing Red, or Hinata, anymore.  Once this week is over and we’re back at school like normal, I’m going to have to sort this shit out.

My only other saving grace is Hinata doesn’t know I'm Nine.  I have the upper hand.  I could pretend Nine is moving schools and therefore won’t have access to the school server anymore.  I could pretend he died.  That seems a little over dramatic, but I’m so mentally and physically exhausted, I can’t think of anything else that will get me out of this.

I reach the breakfast table with the others, and Hinata is starring at his phone, a crease between his brows.  I want to sit as far away from him as possible, but of course we’re all sitting in our little clumps, and the only space left is beside him.  I sigh heavily and drop myself in the empty space, pointedly not looking at him and not asking what’s wrong.

He tells me anyway.

“Natsu is sick.”

“I didn’t ask- wait.  What?” I finally meet his eyes, where the hurt is slowly slipping away as he realises my quick temper got the best of me before I could pay attention and have a human moment with him.  See, if he knew I was Nine, he'd already know I’m not good at this empathising stuff.

“My sister is sick; mum says she has a bad cough and a fever,” he says again, a little irritated.  And honestly?  Warranted.

“Is it serious?” I ask, my heart picking up pace for a different reason.  Natsu is still so small, I can’t imagine her in such pain, and with the bare understanding as to why she is.

“She had a terrible night's sleep and can’t keep any food down.”

I don’t miss that Hinata didn’t really answer the question.  He must be worried sick.  Yachi, sitting on Hinata’s other side, puts a hand on his wrist in comfort.  

“Do you need to go home?” she asks gently.

I nod quickly.  “We can explain it to Takeda sensei; he’ll understand.  You can be back in time for the afternoon game.”

We can see Hinata thinking about it.  Seriously thinking about it.  Like me, there’s very little that could tear Hinata away from volleyball, but his kid sister is high up the list.

“If it's serious enough for me to miss training, it’ll only worry Natsu more, which will also worry my mum."

Yachi and I share a look, silently agreeing that no matter what, we have to be Hinata’s distraction today.  We can’t leave him alone.

It works for the morning.  I can see Hinata throwing himself into training and helping to wrangle the first years.  But his spikes are off and his receiving is piss poor (more than usual anyway).  It’s the little things.  Like how he pushes the food around his plate at lunch, or doesn’t even open the carton of milk I bring him from the vending machine.  Our underclassmen are worried too, and even Tsukishima has backed off for the day.

I feel helpless.  Yes, Hinata drives me up the fucking wall, and the apparent love of my life is this little shit who gives me the shits.  But he’s still my partner, and I know his family well.  It's no surprise he's so worried for his sister, even volleyball isn’t helping anymore.

It’s in between sets during the afternoon three-on-three that I excuse myself to run back to the cabin.  I hurry up to the second floor, out to the balcony, up the ladder, and crawl along the roof until I get to the centre.  It’s scorching hot up here this time of day, the tiles catching all the heat and radiating it back to my arse, but I open my phone and start drafting an email.

Red.

Don’t ask me how I know this.  I just got a feeling, but if something serious is happening, stop trying to keep it to yourself!  You’re at golden week, one of the only times of the year you’re surrounded by people willing to help.  Call on them.  There’s no point keeping yourself down if you’re just going to drag everyone down with you.

Sincerely (someone who used to be very guilty of this)

Nine

Hinata, miraculously, is better throughout the second set.  

Apparently, he managed to get a hold of his mum while out at the water tank, and she says Natsu’s fever broke and she’s ravaging dino nuggets like she’s been starved all year.  She’d just been set down for a nap when Hinata got off the phone.  We all release collective sighs of relief.  I nudge him with my elbow, sharing a smile with him, that for once, he takes as is and doesn’t call creepy.

“Right, so can you stop receiving with your face and get us some points then?” Tsukishima asks, right on cue.

“I haven’t received with my face since first year!“ Hinata counters, just as fighting ready as ever.

I meet Hinata back up on the roof that night.

“We’re gonna get in so much in trouble one day,” Hinata giggles as I settle beside him.  He grabs my elbow as I do, steadying me along the edge.  He let’s go once he’s sure I’ve got my balance back.

“Well, it wouldn’t be training camp without Coach Ukai losing his voice trying to get us to behave.”

“Speak for yourself!  I’m so well behaved!  If he’s yelling, it’s because he’s yelling at you.”

He’s grinning as he says this, poking fun at me, and I don’t have a rebuttal, too relieved he’s back to his old self.

“We’re literally both risking broken necks just to get some time to ourselves.  He’s definitely going to be yelling at you too.”

Hinata just laughs, rocking back on his butt.  I don’t touch him, but my hand flies up, ready to catch him if he starts to fall.  It’s quiet again, calm and easy.  The moon is bright again tonight, which brings me a further sense of relief.  I don’t know if I can handle another sleepless night.  Which reminds me why I can’t sleep at all.  And suddenly I feel awkward, sitting here, next to someone I know very intimate details about, and who knows intimate details about me.  And he doesn’t know I know those details about him.  And he doesn’t know he knows those details about me.

This is such a mess.

“Do you think we can try that new move tomorrow?  In the afternoon game?” Hinata asks, looking at me with that breathtakingly earnest face again.

“It still needs way more work,” I start to say.  “But I suppose there’s no better time to try it.  Otherwise we’ll never get used to using it in such high stakes.

“Just do what you did the other day to make it work!” Hinata says, like it’s that easy.

I try not to look at him anymore.  Afterall, he was the reason I was able to make it work.

“I don’t think I can.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Nothing is complicated with you,” Hinata scoffs.  “It's one of the reasons I love you!”

This.  This almost sends me off the roof.  And I know without even looking, it might do the same to Hinata.  God, the silence is deafening.  I know that’s such a cliche, but it’s a cliche for a reason, because I can’t hear anything around me anymore, despite the night once being full of noise.  The cicadas were screaming, and now they’re dead silent.  The breeze is gentle but the leaves don’t touch.  The first years are running rampant inside, but there’s no thudding footsteps or screams of terror.

“I-I just mean,” Hinata starts.  I hear him swallow, thick and solid, cutting through the silence.  “Like…”

“I know what you meant!” I cut him off.  Fuck, rejecting two people in two days is hard work, and my patience has run thin, which means Hinata gets the short end of the stick.  “Just forget about it.  We don’t need to make this weird.”

I can tell this is the wrong thing to say, because I always know when I’ve fucked up being a human when I’m around Hinata.  I see his whole body curve inwards out of the corner of my eye, dejection weighing heavy on his shoulders.

“Shit.  I just meant-“

“I know what you meant!”

Ouch.  But seriously?  Warranted.

Hinata picks himself up, slapping my hand away when I try to help him, and uses his anger to weigh him down as he storms over the roof and back to the ladder.  I wait for his wild hair to disappear before I put my head in my hands, clutch at my hair, and try not to scream.

Nine,

I don’t know what brought this on, but thanks?  I guess.  Maybe I needed the vote of confidence.  I’ve had a really shit day, maybe not quite in the way you were hinting at, but your words help nonetheless.

I wish I could tell you about it all without getting into the theatrics and the specifics.  I really need someone to talk to right now.

Potentially yours,

Red

We try the new quick the next day, and we fucking suck.  I’m trying to do a good job, striving for perfection, like I always do around him, but I’m so stuck in my head from last night and his latest email that I can’t get into the headspace I need to make this work.  Hinata is missing just as much as I am, which is making us both frustrated, which is making us both snappy and troublesome.  Finally, Coach Ukai tells us to get off the court for a few minutes and get some space.  He thinks its the stuffy air inside the gym that’s making us this rancid.

Outside, Hinata races for the water tank.  I remain out the front of the gym, not wanting to follow him and crowd him further.

I sip my water, contemplative, wondering how I’m going to fix this fucking mess without hurting him further.  I doubt he’s going to take being rejected twice from the same person that he thought were two different people very well, but I don’t know how long I can keep reading his emails without him thinking it’s not me.

“Hey,” Tsukishima calls, also on a break from his own game.  “You and shorty in the middle of a divorce or can you be grown men and talk it out?”

I scowl at him.  “Stay out of it, Tsukishima!”

“Would that I could but being captain means your stupidity is my business.  Fix it!”

He doesn’t wait for me to argue back, only turns and storms back into the gym.  I sigh, tugging at my hair again in frustration.  You know you’re in trouble when Tsukishima is right.

I suck in a deep breath and go to find Hinata.  

He’s got his head under the streaming tap, water travelling in rivulets down his neck and into his shirt.  I step up to him, and I know he notices me, because his knuckles whiten minutely along the rim of the concrete sink.  I take a deep breath, trying to calm my raging nerves, but rage on they do and I’ve just got to stop being a coward and deal with this.  Or I’ll be the one responsible for ruining the team’s dynamic.

“Look, I’m-“

“I’m sorry.”

I pause, taken aback by Hinata’s voice.  It’s weak, and cracked, and heavy.  He slowly reaches up to turn off the faucet, pulling his soaking head out from under the tap, and when he lifts his face to me, his eyes are rimmed with red.  He’d been covering himself in water in an attempt to hide his tears.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.  “I didn’t mean to spring that on you last night.  I don’t want to make it weird between us.  It’s why I never told you; why I was never going to tell you.”

I want to say something, but I don’t know what, and it looks like Hinata has more to add.  He continues.

“But I’m not going to like…perve on you, or anything.  I promise, if you think I’m weird, for liking a guy, I’ll back off.  At least when we’re not in games.”  He tries to choke out a laugh.  “There’s not much I can do about it then.  Sorry.  But at least volleyball is pretty much a no contact sport and-“

“Hang on, you think I’m being weird around you because you’re gay?”

Hinata lifts his eyes to me,cautious optimism hidden deep in his amber irises.  His hair is drying ridiculously fast in the heat, the ends already getting fluffy again.

“A-aren’t you?”

“ No!   I don’t care about that!  I'm…" I don't have to tell him.  I don't owe him that.  "I'm gay, too." 

I tell him anyway.

For an unbelievable amount of time, that terrible silence fills my ears again.  There’s such a mix of emotions on Hinata’s face, and I can’t tell whether they’re good or bad, accepting or just more rejection.  It’s funny coming out to someone, anyone.  It doesn’t matter if you’re so sure they’ll reject you and call you a slur, or open their arms and tell you they still love you.  It’s always terrifying.

Slowly though, Hinata’s features fall into something I recognise so completely.  It’s the same expression I wore when I first read that reply from Red.  From Hinata.  That look when you finally realise you’re not alone.

“How did you first know?  Who gave it away?  Was it Sugawara?  I bet it was Sugawara!”

I haven’t been able to shake Hinata all afternoon and his incessant questions make me want to staple his mouth shut.  He thinks he’s being subtle, whispering questions into my side while we put the equipment away, but he’s forgotten voices carry across the gym and it doesn’t matter if there’s barely anyone left, some stray second year is going to hear if he doesn’t shut the hell up.

“Not here, dumbass!” I hiss at him, and pause right after, wondering if that was too harsh.  

Instead of being hurt, he only nods in understanding, and goes back to rolling up the net, humming a happy little tune as he does.  He’s seemed to have forgotten his botched rejection from the night before, and although we still couldn’t get our new quick to work, we came back to the game at least able to steal a few points from the other side and scrape through with a win.  It doesn’t seem to matter that I haven't returned his feelings; he’s just relieved I understand them at all.

And honestly, so am I.

I haven’t told him I know he’s Red, or that I’m the one he’s been emailing, but it’s nice being out to someone.   To someone knowing, completely understanding, and willing to keep our secret tight to their chest.   I haven’t felt this connected to anyone since, well, Red, but it’s different when that person is tangible.  When I know their face.  When we can talk in person and find all the ways we have in common inside this giant thing we already have in common.

Now I feel like if I tell him I'm Nine, it will crush what we could build out of this.  It will ruin our perceptions of each other.  

So I guess Miss Baxter had a point.  

We rush through takedown, showers, dinner and hurry out onto the roof before Tsukishima can catch us wandering off and force us to stay indoors to watch the first years.  It’s much cooler up on the roof anyway.

“Have you told anyone?” Is his first question as soon as we’re settled.  I pull milk cartons out of my jersey shorts and Hinata pulls out protein bars from his.  We swap one each.  “I mean, anyone else?”

I can tell Hinata is completely relaxed around me again, even when talking about this, because he opens his power bar and swallows half of it in one bite.

While he’s chewing, I think about the question, and the weight it brings.  The short answer is no, I haven’t told anyone else.  At first, it was only Red that knew.  And Red is Hinata.  And now Hinata knows.

“No,” I say.  “No one else.”

Hinata is silent as he processes this and finishes chewing.

“Me neither,” he replies.  This surprises me.

“You haven’t even told your mum?” 

Hinata shakes his head.

Hinata’s mum is warm and gentle and would never do anything if it meant hurting her son.  I can’t imagine her turning Hinata away because he likes guys, but I also understand that deep, underlying fear of what if.   Besides, I know Hinata’s mum is the most important person in the world to him, which means she’s also the most important person he could lose.

“I can’t figure out how.  It always seems to be these lulls in conversation when I want to bring it up, but that’s when it feels like it’s too sudden.”

“Me too,” I agree.  “I can’t seem to find the right time, and then I wonder, will there ever be a right time?”

Hinata nods so violently he almost spits his drink out.  “Right!?”

We sit there for a few moments, eating our snacks and sipping our drinks.

“It wasn’t Sugawara,” I finally say.  Hinata catches my eye, remembering his questions from earlier.  “Not at first, I mean.”

“Really?  Man!  I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him in first year.”

“I thought you liked Shimuzu?” I question, maybe a little too gruffly.  “You were always fawning over her with Tanaka and Nishinoya.”

Hinata snorts and waves his hand flippantly.  “C’mon, man!  I was fifteen, in a room full of buff men and enjoying that way too much.  Of course I overcompensated!  It seemed easier to just play along with Noya and Tanaka, how I thought I was meant to act, as opposed to questioning why I didn’t want to act like that.”

Fuck, he’s too real.

“I never got all the models with big boobs they hung up in the club room.  I thought I’d, I dunno, grow into it.  I guess.”

Hinata laughs.  “Yeah!  Me too!  Except then I had my first dirty dream and let’s just say it wasn’t those kinds of boobs I enjoyed.”

Even in the dark, I can see his cheeks turning pink.  His freckles begin to stand out, a dead give away.  I can tell he thinks he might have said too much, but in the spirit of being totally honest:

“I caught Oikawa and Iwaizumi making out in middle school, and it made feel weird for weeks.”  I can tell Hinata’s eyes are like saucers, boring into me, demanding I keep going.  I didn’t think I’d want to, but it’s so freeing getting this all out, with someone who stands on the same playing field.  “I was so fucking jealous, and I thought it was maybe because they had each other.  I just wanted the companionship, or the intimacy.”

“It was the thighs,” Hinata states.

“It was the fucking thighs!”

Hinata bursts out laughing, and after a few moments of attempting to bite back my giggles, I join him in our wonderful hysteria.

The last day of golden week is a blur.  We nail our quick.  We win our three-on-three.  We’re wrapping up and packing down.  I still haven’t emailed Red again, and I still haven’t figured out a way to tell him I know he's Hinata.  It feels like if I do, it’ll break everything.  We’ve now got this great solidarity between each other, that goes beyond our insatiable need to play volleyball, beyond our greed to constantly improve.  

Honestly, I didn’t think I could share anything so important with Hinata, and now this is just as important as my relationship with Red.  With him.  If I tell him, it’ll fuck it all up.

“Hey, Kageyama,” Hinata calls.  I turn, seeing him beckoning me to him from behind the sports shed wearing a worried look which makes my heart stop in my chest.  Oh shit.  Who knows?  Who found out?  Who overheard us last night?  

I hurry over, and Hinata and I go further from the rest of the team trailing off, far away, where it’s just us.  Or at least, I hope it’s just us.

“What’s wrong?” I try to keep my voice level as I ask, even though I’m freaking out.

His hands are tight around his elbows, hugging himself, not looking me in the eye.   I want to be patient with him, give him time to bring it up, but dammit if someone knows about us, I have to know who it is.

“Just tell me what’s going on,” I demand, the panic leaching into my voice.

“You…said…that no one else knows.  About you.  Liking guys.”

Yes.  And?

“Yes.  And? ”

“Does that mean…you've never…you know…”

I’m going to smack him.

“Just spit it out before I choke it out of you.”

He flushes bright red.

“I just mean, does that mean you’ve never kissed anyone?”

This throws me.

“Huh?  Why would I have kissed anyone?”

Hinata rolls his eyes, his turn to look impatient.  “That’s why I’m asking!  If you’ve never told anyone else, it means you’ve never kissed another guy.  Like me.”

I arch an eyebrow and try to keep the defensiveness out of my voice.  “Are you telling me we’re not gay enough?”

Which is a whole other can of worms I’d rather leave sealed shut.  Hinata shakes his head.

“No!  Not that.  I was going to ask if you…like…want to?” His cheeks rival the colour of his hair.

“Kiss another guy?  Yes, Hinata, I would very much like that.  It’s kind of the point.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes,”  Hinata huffs.  “Do you want to kiss me?”

My own cheeks heat up so fast I think I might faint.  Hinata shuffles his feet, bowing his head, trying to hide his eyes.

“I just mean, like, not to prove a point or anything like that!  If you’re gay, you’re gay!  I’ve just…always wondered what it was like.  And since, you and I are the only ones that know, maybe we could.  Like.  Help each other out?”

This is the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard in my life.  But like all of Hinata’s dumb plans, it kind of makes sense.

“I thought you liked me?” I say, without really thinking that through.

Hinata fumbles again.  “Yeah, I do.  But I know it’s just business.  Or whatever.”

He’s an idiot.

I’m an idiot for considering this.

I try and think of a reason to not do this, and trust me, there are plenty, but I’m eighteen, athletic, have a huge-ass secret, and some guy on my team is offering to kiss me.  For business.

I've always wanted to know what it would be like to kiss Red anyway.

“This won’t mean anything,” I insist.

“Yeah!  I know!” He finally looks up.  His brown eyes are glistening.

There’s another thousand and one reasons going through my head not to do this, and I don’t listen to any of them.  Instead, I step forward, backing Hinata against the wall of the shed, take his thin shoulders into my hands, and bend down.  It’s almost cute, the way he reaches up on his toes to meet me halfway.

Holy.  Fucking.  Shit.

It’s the only words going on in my head and the only words I’ve been muttering out loud to an empty house.

“Holy fucking shit.”

What I thought would be a quick press of lips and some awkward stumbling afterwards turned into the hottest make out session of my life.  Okay, the only make out session of my life, but it certainly doesn’t turn me off from future make out sessions.  Even future make out sessions with Hinata.

Listen to me, I’m so predictable.  One boy gets his lips on me and I can’t stop thinking about him.  I whine, face pressed into my pillow, punching it in frustration.

I already knew Hinata was small but when I looped my arms around his waist and pulled him tight against me, it’s like I could make him disappear inside my body.  And I wanted to.  His tongue was hot, slimy, it was so wet.  It was so good.   His hands flew up to grip at my hair, tugging on the strands, scratching at my scalp, and I had let out an embarrassing moan before crashing him against the shed wall.

I wanted to know how far I could take it.  How much we could do before it became too much.  Could I dig my fingers into his waist and make him grunt?  Yes.  Could I trail my fingers under his shirt, scrape possessive red lines into his back?  Yes.

Could Hinata angle his head and flick his tongue in a way that made me so dizzy and turned on I almost fainted at the feel?  Yes.

The only reason we stopped was because I was getting way too into it and it was too intense for Hinata.  He pushed me away, patted me on the back like he was saying ‘good game’ and booked it back to the club room.  I can’t even blame him.  I had to wait behind the shed and take deep breaths until my problem went away.

Now, lying in bed with literally nothing to distract me, my problem is back and all I want to do is think about Hinata and get off to the memory of him shivering under my fingertips.

What is wrong with me?

Nine,

I haven’t heard from you in a while so I assume you’re just as exhausted from golden week as I am.  But just let me tell you; I had an amazing time.  

Something happened this week that makes me think coming out to my mum won't be all scary.  She'll probably have some awkward questions, and definitely give me the safe sex talk, but I'm feeling good from golden week, and I really want to tell her!

I want to tell you what happened too, but if I got into too much detail, you’ll realise who I am.  It’s scary, isn’t it?  The thought of knowing who we are.

Do you feel the same?  Do you think you're ready to tell someone? 

Sharing my courage with you,

Red

I haven’t responded to Red.  To Hinata.  I can’t keep them straight in my head anymore.  I feel like I’m losing my mind as I wander to school on Monday.  Coach Ukai gave us the morning off from training, but of course I’m heading to the gym anyway.  I know Hinata will be there too, and as awkward as it will be, I’m giddy.   I can’t wait to see him.  To see if he feels the same way I did about the last day of golden week, and maybe if he wants a repeat.

I understand what he means though.  Having him around makes me braver.  Maybe it's about having someone else who shares the secret, or maybe it's about finally knowing what it feels like to be with another person.

Sure enough, his bright red stack of hair is the first thing I lay eyes on when I get into the gym, and my face splits into a grin, before I realise we’re not alone.

“Hey!  Kageyama!” A first year says, waving at me.  There’s three of them, and Hinata looks like he’s already been running drills with them for a while.  “We knew you two would come!”

I try to remember they’re young, and look up to me (for some reason) and I have to set a good example (regrettably), so I dump my stuff by the wall and join them.

“They wanted to come to practice anyway,” Hinata says by way of explanation, not looking at me.  “And knew we’d be here to help.”

I nod, and then grunt, when I realise Hinata still isn't looking at me because he’s too busy trying not to look at me the same way I want to look at him.

I’ve never hated volleyball practice in my life, and I kind of resent Hinata for making it feel like it drags on for too long.  Finally, we call it early, and usher the first years out with the intention of not pushing them too hard.

So I can push Hinata too hard up against the wall inside the broom closet.

“Our first years are too dedicated,” he pants into my ear, legs up around my hips.  

“We’ve inspired a whole new generation of volleyball addicts,” I laugh into his neck.  I don't want to leave marks but he just smells so good, especially after practice.  I nose at his skin, into the corner under his jaw where his hair tickles my nose.

“Damn us.”

And then I kiss him to shut him up, getting back to business.

We shouldn’t.  I know we shouldn’t.  We’re pushing it as it is.  It’s one thing after golden week and everyone is going home.  It’s another during morning practice when it’s obvious if we’re the only ones in the gym.  When it’s school hours and we hurry to the club room as soon as we're let out for lunch, I know we’re taking a risk.

But all that apprehension falls out of my head the minute Hinata crawls into my lap, tugs my head back into an arch and kisses me stupid.

We’re getting braver.  We’re getting more reckless.  We can’t help it.

We laid out a spare sports mat before we started, and I roll us onto it now, on my hands and knees above him as I attempt not to squash him into the floor.

“Sorry,” he pants, between licking inside my mouth and biting my lip.  “Sorry ‘bout yesterday.”

I grunt a noise of confusion as I kiss him back.

“For running away,” he says quickly, and I kiss him again.

“It’s my fault,” I reassure him, hand in his hair, head twisted to one side so I can mouth at my favourite spot on his neck.  

“It’s not,” he tries, and I’m obviously not doing a good enough job if he's still talking.  “I was just getting…um…excited?”

I pull back suddenly, and he’s flushed and panting underneath me, school uniform dishevelled so his collarbones peek out under his hoodie.  

“You were…”

Hinata turns even redder, before nodding.

“Fuck,” I breathe, diving back in and holding his head up so I can have his tongue for myself.  “Me too.”

Hinata smiles against me, which makes it really hard to keep him docile.

“Really?”

I hum this time, still moving my lips against his, and attempting not to let my hips do the same.  I don’t think I have the time I did yesterday to calm down, but it only fires Hinata up and he tugs me down to collapse on top of him.

We might be late for class.

Nine,

Now I’m just getting worried.  I haven’t heard from you since golden week.  Did you get murdered?  In a cabin all alone with a bunch of kids on a sugar rush.  Maybe you were trampled to death?

I’m only partly joking.

Please email me back.  I have so much to tell you.

Don’t be dead please,

Red

I have to tell him.

I stare at the email, the font black and solid in front of me, my hands shaking over the keyboard.  If I don’t tell him, this will go too far, and I’ll lose them both.  Or, considering they're the same person, I’ll just lose him.  I’ve been thinking, maybe it’s not so bad Hinata is Red.  If I can tell him now, maybe he won’t be as mad.  Maybe he’ll think it’s funny, at least a little, before realising how much I already know about him.  But how much that’s a good thing, because he already knows so much about me.

I want him to know, because I want to talk to him.  Face to face.

As Nine.  As me.

Red.

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to email you back.  I would say it’s because this week has been eventful and hectic, which it has been, but it’s also because…

I know who you are.

I didn’t mean to find out, and I didn’t mean to hide that I knew.  But you’re really bad at keeping secrets to yourself.

We’re on the same sports team and you thought we could keep skating by each other and never know?  Honestly, maybe I thought the same.  But I know now, and I want you to know too.

Think of who you’ve come out to this week, of who you’ve told, of who you’ve confessed to, and don’t think of us as different people.  It took me a while, but I won’t think of you as different people either.  

I want to know you,

Nine.

I hit send, throw my phone on my nightstand, and try not to let my anxiety tell me it’s all going to fall apart around me.

It all falls apart around me.

Hey, Nine.

Wtf?

I think you’ve got the wrong guy, but kudos on the theory!  Very creative.

I’m sorry to tell you this, but whoever you think I am, I’m not.  I haven’t come out to anyone yet, and I wouldn't be caught dead on a sports team.  I'm the least athletic person you'll ever know.  Did you tell someone?  That you’re gay I mean.  I want to be happy for you, but I feel like this news might put a spanner in the works.  

I hope I’m not disappointing you when I say, I’m kind of relieved?  Honestly, I’m not ready for you to know who I am anyway, even if you did think you found out only by accident.  Although, it’s nice to know we’re not the only ones.

Red

Wtf is right.

I can’t keep myself from rereading the email over and over again despite having it memorised at this point.  All those clues, all those hints that matched between Red’s email and Hinata's actions.  They were all pure fucking co-incindance?  I want to throw up.  I want to rip my hair out.  I want to run away and hide and never come out from under my covers.

For the first time since I was three, I skip morning practice.

I can’t face Hinata.  I can’t look at him thinking I knew one thing and now knowing another.  It’s not like he led me on.  It was always me keeping it a secret that I knew who Red was, that I thought I knew who he was, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve betrayed him.

Red took it in stride, even congratulated me on telling someone else about my sexuality.  He sounded almost jealous I have a friend to confide in.  But what the hell am I supposed to do about Hinata?  I only kissed him because I wanted to kiss Red, and now Hinata isn't Red, so who am I kissing when I kiss him?

My head hurts.  My eyes feel like they’re trying to drop out of my skull.  I time my arrival at school so the first bell is about to sound, so Hinata won’t have time to corner me and I can get through the morning period trying to figure out how I’m going to handle him at lunch.

And it’s not the fun kind of handling we’ve been doing.

Yachi is standing at the door to my classroom, bouncing on her heels, looking like she’s trying to find the runaway bear so she can run in the opposite direction.  She almost bursts into tears when she sees me.

“Kageyama!  Thank god!  Are you okay?”

I grunt, scratching my hair, and yawn.

“I’m fine; just woke up with a headache.  Figured I’d better skip practice just in case.”

The look on her face changes, flits, before it intensifies.

“Kageyama, do you know? ” she asks, her voice shaking.

I look at her, confused, worried she’s asking about Red.

“Do I know what?” I ask cautiously.

This is the wrong thing to say, because she almost bursts into tears.  “I’m so sorry, Kageyama!  I couldn't get them to take it down in time!  Hinata and I have been trying to message you all morning!  We thought you skipped practice because…”

She’s almost in hysterics at this point.

It occurs to me she’s not talking about my emails with Red, which means she can only be talking about…

The floor drops out from under me.  I’ve kept my phone off all morning, not wanting to be tempted with any new notifications from Red, but it almost vibrates out of my hand with the onslaught of messages I get now, and not just from Hinata and Yachi and the other third years on our team.

> what the hell is your problem slut?

> ew! First years use that room!

> so who’s the other faggot?  So i know who to stay away from in gym class lol

It’s a photo.  Not a very good one, but it’s good enough.

I’ve got Hinata pressed to the floor, looking way too into it even with the piss poor quality of the image, my hands under his shirt and my lips on his neck.  It’s taken through the crack in the club room door, like we left it open just enough for someone to get a glimpse inside.  A glimpse of me clearly making out with another guy.

Hinata shows no identifying features; the angle obscure enough his height doesn’t give him away.  But I’m on full blast.  That’s my face pressed into his neck.

Never mind.

I am going to throw up.

Kageyama.

So…I guess you don’t know who I am, but now I know who you are.  

I’m so sorry about the photo.  I’ve been telling anyone who tries to show it to me to delete it.  Me and a bunch of other guys have reported it to the teachers.  I know it’s the internet, and it’s school.  There’s not much we can do.

But it’ll blow over!  That’s the only guarantee about school gossip; we’re all bored as hell and sooner or later, they’ll find someone else’s secret to obsess over for another week.

You’re the bravest guy I know.  Please stay strong.

Message me if you need me.

Red

I promise, the irony is not lost on me. 

‘Message me if you need me.’

Fuck, I need him now.

It’s too hot, even in the shade, to be hiding up on the roof, but I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.  It’s not like I can hide in the club room, and even if I wanted to distract myself with volleyball, which I do desperately, I’ll just feel like a tiger in a zoo.  Everyone will come to point and laugh at the gay guy on the volleyball team who got caught making out with another guy in the volleyball club room.

There’s a scuffle on concrete and a pair of shoes come into my vision.  I get ready to fight, because I’m not in the mood to be the bigger person and ignore them.  The bigger person would never have spread that photo around.

But it’s just Hinata, red faced and panting, Yachi trailing up the last of the stairs behind him.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he says, hunching over with his hands on his knees.  “You sure know how to disappear when you need to.”

Finally, I start crying.

But Hinata is there in a flash, pulling my head to his chest, running fingers through my hair.  It’s so intimate it hurts, and I try to shove him away.

“If they see us…” I try to say, voice indiscernible with tears.

“If they see us, they see us!” he says, only pulling me to him tighter.  “I don’t care!  I was in that photo too.  I should’ve been outed too.”

I can hear his own tears in his voice, trying desperately to hold them back.

“No,” I tell him, my limbs growing weak.  “No, you don’t want this.  It fucking sucks.”

It doesn’t take much for me to stop fighting, to collapse full body into his lap while my chest heaves with broken sobs.  My greed to not feel so alone selfishly outweighs my desire to keep him safe.

Yachi approaches us cautiously, soon crouching down beside us, a comforting hand on my back.

It takes a while for me to calm down, and by then they’ve spread out snacks and as many yoghurt drinks as I could eat in front of me.  I can’t eat, or else I’m going to vomit again, but I thank them regardless.  My hand is tight in Hinata’s, our fingers intertwined, and I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing anchoring me to reality.

“I hope they find out who it is,” Yachi says, voice quiet.  Hinata frowns at her.  “Just so they might get in trouble!”

“Yeah,” Hinata agrees.  “I hope they find out who it is too, so I can fucking make them pay.”

It doesn’t surprise me Hinata has a violent side; our fight back in first year still haunts me sometimes.  He has some wicked nails on him.

“I just want it to be over,” I say, the first words I’ve spoken in ages.  My voice hurts from crying so hard.  “I want it to go away.”

Yachi pats my shoulder, and Hinata grips my hand tighter.

“Woa, Kageyama!  Didn’t think you were into the babes too!”  We look up to see a trio of third years on the baseball team skulking their way over to us.  It can truly only be considered skulking.  With their too long limbs and their shirts untucked and their shoulders hunched in an attempt to be more menacing.  They’ve got nothing on Tanaka.  “Or is this a pass the parcel kind of deal?”

I leap to my feet, fist ready to swing, and Hinata is by my side in a flash.  It’s one thing to out me, it’s another to bring Yachi into this.  This is clearly what they hoped for, because they’re in a fight-ready stance before we’ve reached them.  I don’t care.  I don’t care if I get detention or suspended or come out with bruises and a bleeding lip.  My depression has morphed into anger, and these assholes are the idiots that showed up just in time for me to start swinging.

But I don’t even get to throw the first punch before a shrill sounding whistle goes through the air.  We all pause and turn to see Tsukishima standing there.  He’s holding his phone up, the voice recording app on screen, and he hits play when he’s sure all eyes are on him.

“Woa, Kageyama!  Didn’t think you were into the babes too!  Or is this a pass the parcel kind of deal?”

Honestly, hearing it again only makes me to want to leap for them all over again.

“The teachers will be happy to hear we might have a suspect for who started the gossip ring circulating the school,” Tsukishima says, waving the phone around like the weapon it is.  The guys from the baseball team freeze, any kind of menacing quality they were trying to hold disappearing from their bodies.  “And they were so dreadfully worried it might affect the kiddies.”

“What the hell?!” One of them shouts.  “You can’t put that on us!  We didn’t do it!”

“Oh, so you’re just sexually harassing your own cohort because you think it’s fun?”

Their faces are dumbfounded by Tsukishima’s audacity.  They clearly haven’t met him.

“Hey!  Delete that!” A different one says, attempting to save what little pride of theirs remains.  “You can’t record us!”

Tsukishima approaches them, using the full extent of his height (and there’s a lot of it; he still hasn’t stopped growing) towering over them so their faces morph to panic and it’s reflected back at them in his eyes.

“Fucking watch me.”

They immediately back down, awkwardly backing away until they shuffle through the door.  Yamaguchi slams it in their faces.

Tsukishima turns to us.

“Thanks,” I say, slightly embarrassed now.  I was so quick to anger, so quick to jump in and put myself in trouble too.  

He gives me a familiar sneer.  “Don’t mention it.  Ever.”

I figure it’s the least I could do.

Hinata walks me home.

I live four stations away in the complete opposite direction, but he leaves his bike at school and catches the train with me to my house.  The lights are on inside, and I’ve never been so disappointed to see my mum home.

“The school would have told her,” I say, not really to anybody, but Hinata is there to listen.  “She’ll know.”

Hinata remains silent beside me, unsure what to say.  Which is okay, because I’m unsure what I want to hear.

“I’ll come in with you,” Hinata says, and his voice is so sure, I know he wouldn’t hesitate to do just that.  “It can’t be that bad if there's two of us!”

Hinata is a lot of things to me, especially these days, but right now I’m just grateful for him.

“It’s okay,” I tell him.  “I can do this on my own.”

He looks up at me, almost heartbroken as he says:

“Yeah, but you don’t have to.”

We share a hug.  An honest to God full-body, tight-knit, limbs-wrapped-around-each-other-so -tight-we-can’t-breathe hug.  It feels good, really good, and if I didn’t feel so confused and lousy, I’d kiss him good night for good measure.

Inside is quiet.  So quiet.  My house is normally quiet, but this quietness wants to travel through the hall and strangle me.  I announce I’m home and kick off my shoes, heading into the kitchen, where mum is sitting at the table.  She’s got a glass of wine in front of her, which is how I’m certain this won’t be pleasant.  She always says she doesn’t have time for drinking.

“Sit down, Tobio,” is the first thing she says to me.

I sit across from her.

It takes her a moment, and she breaks the returning silence with a disappointed sigh.

“So, is it you?” she asks, taking a long drink of wine.

“Is what me?”

She puts the glass down, rather forcefully.  I refuse to flinch.

“In the photo.  That photo.”  Oh god, she saw it.  “Because I’m inclined to believe it’s not, and if you tell me it’s not, I’ll believe you.”

I don’t know what I was expecting when I walked in here tonight, but whatever this is, it makes me blind with rage.

“How couldn’t it be me?”

“I don’t know,” she mutters, putting her forehead in her palm.  “You kids these days have unsupervised access to all kinds of gadgets.  Maybe someone faked it.”

I don’t know if she’s a good parent for giving me the out, but for all it’s worth, I don’t want to take it.

“It’s me.”  It feels so final.  The look she gives me is blank.  Totally blank.

“Then you’re grounded,” she says, standing up, as if to say end of discussion.

End of discussion my ass.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding.”

“Language, Tobio!” And it only enrages me more.  This is what sparks a response?  This is what she gets mad at?  “I thought I raised you better than that.”

It takes what little self control I have left not to spit out you’ve barely raised me at all.   I figure I can only handle one skeleton in the closet at a time.

“You can’t ground me because I was making out with a guy!”

She laughs.  She actually laughs at this.

“Tobio, I could care less who you were making out with.”  This is not the comfort it should be.  She’s moved into the kitchen, washing her glass in the sink immediately after finishing with it.  “It’s that you were making out with anyone at all!  On school grounds, during school hours.  What were you thinking?  Of course you’re grounded!”

She’s basically carving her wine glass deeper with how hard she’s drying it.  She opens a cabinet, practically tossing it inside and slamming the door shut.

“You’ll go to practice, school, practice again, and come straight home.  Two weeks.  No going out on weekends, and if you pull a stunt like this again, I might not even be that lenient.”

She’s finished in the kitchen.  It’s spotless, like it always is.  Nothing out of place as she rounds the island counter, heading straight for her office.

“Honestly, I thought this moved out of the house when Miwa did,” she mutters, before slamming the door shut behind her.

I’m not really sure how to process what just happened, but when I finally make my way upstairs, all I do is crawl under my covers and scream into my pillow.

Shoyo Hinata

> I told my mum.

> That i’m gay I mean.

> and that it was me in the photo with you

> so i suppose the gay thing would have been obvious if I had just told her the photo thing…

The letters swim in front of me, and not just because I’m still blinking back tears.

Tobio Kageyama

> you did what!?!?

> runt

> scrub

> scrunt!!!!!

Shoyo Hinata

> she took it well, you’ll be happy to know!

> some congratulations would be nice!!!!

Tobio Kageyama

> congratu-fucking-lations

> scrunt

Shoyo Hinata

> >:p

I smile for the first time all day.

Hey Red,

It’s been a while.  

I know that’s my fault, but as you can see, I’ve had a lot going on.  Besides, it’s kind of hard to check your email when all your technology privileges are revoked.  Seriously.  My mum wouldn’t even let me watch old matches on the tv, and she has one of those nanny-cams installed downstairs.  So even when she’s not home, she’s always watching.

Creepy, much?

Although, she’s finally showing a little interest in my life.  After realising ‘I don’t care that you’re gay’ is probably not the appropriate response to your son getting outed to the entire school in a sex scandal, she came around and shortened my sentence.  It was still a hell of a week though.

Well, the thing is Red, I want to know who you are.  These emails with you have meant the world to me, and for the past few weeks, have been my safe space when I didn’t realise how much I needed one.  I’ve never been more of myself than I was when I was emailing you, and I like who that person is.  

I know neither of us controlled how you figured out who I was, and I’m not going to call it unfair, but it’s definitely a little uneven.

I like you, Red, but the thing is

And I pause before writing this next part.

I also like someone else.

You say ‘message me if you need me’, but I do need you.  I’ve needed you for weeks.  I’ve needed a friend who knows what I’m going through, but not with a screen between us.  I understand it feels safer this way, and after everything that’s going on at school, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted some distance.  

But I think I’m ready to move on.  Not from us; I’ll always be an :) away, when the world gets to be too much and too judgemental.   I just think there’s more, and someone I could have that with.  I’d kick myself if I didn’t see where it went.

I have to go now.  First day of freedom and I have a date.

Kageyama

Hinata looks good.  He’s only wearing a clean t-shirt and some snug jeans, but he looks good.  He also looks nervous, continuously looking around, checking his phone, looking around again.  It makes me laugh, and I decide to put him out of his misery.

“Over here, dumbass,” I say as greeting, and catch his surprised expression between my hands as I bend down to kiss him hello.

He’s shocked still for just a moment, before his arms are sliding around my neck, his head is tilting a little to the left, our mouths slot together just as good as I remember.  He pulls away with a wet smack, grinning at me.  The corners of his eyes crinkle in excitement.  It’s the look he gets when he gets a satisfying spike.

“Careful you don’t get caught in another sex scandal,” he says, pressing another quick kiss to my lips.

I straighten up, unlooping his arms from around me but taking one of his hands in mine.

“Shut up; we’re not even at school,” I say, feeling lighter than I have in ages. 

His bright eyes and the grin that won’t go away tells me all I need to know.  That he missed this just as much as I did.  Obviously, we couldn’t make out in the club room during break, and with me grounded, we couldn’t go anywhere else to do it either.  A week without him has given me my first taste of blue balls, and I’m not eager to return to that feeling.  I couldn’t even message him after that last message when he told me he came out to his mum, because my own mother came in to take away my phone right after.

We’ve been hiding up on the roof all week though, hands tight in each others, stealing glances when we couldn’t steal kisses.  Tsukishima and Yamaguchi joined us for the first few days.  They said it was because they had nowhere else better to sit, but I get the feeling it’s so they could play bodyguard.  I really appreciated it.  Not that they’ll ever know that.

Though after all that, there was still something about Red and Hinata (and Hinata not being Red) that was bugging me, so I pulled Yachi aside before practice to ask her about her confession.

She almost fainted in front of me with the sudden onslaught of nerves, but finally managed to tell me.

“I really just needed help with moving the water bottle cages!  I didn’t mean to make you think I was confessing…but you just seemed like you really needed to get it out and I didn’t want to interrupt!  I’m so sorry!”

I didn’t hear the rest of her apology, my ears ringing with my own stupidity.  

“No, it’s not your fault Yachi,” I tried to placate her, but there’s not really a placating mode with Yachi.  “I guess I got you mixed up with someone else…”

Hinata chose that moment to walk by, jacket snug around his hips, chanting something from a kids show he watches with his sister.  He caught us staring at him.

“What?” he paused to stare back.  “Do I have rice on my face still?” he rubbed his cheeks, turning them pink with friction, and I turned pink thinking of how else I’ve made those cheeks pink.

Yachi just hummed, catching on quickly to what I meant.

True to Red’s word, the school got pretty bored once they figured they weren’t going to get anything else out of me, and they certainly weren’t going to find out who else was in that photo.  The perpetrator came forward just as it was all dying down.

This scrawny second year in the choir club broke down in tears in front of me, on his knees apologising in front of the entire class.  It was almost more embarrassing than the sex scandal itself.  He explained he had been passing the club room and had been so shocked by the sight of me and another guy, he had scrambled for a photo and sent it to an apparent trusted friend, never intending it to get further than that.  He hadn’t stopped to think how much it would hurt either of us if it got out, which it did.  His friend sent it to another ‘trusted’ friend who sent it to another ‘trusted’ friend, and the spiral continued until the whole school knew about it by morning.

I wasn’t in any mood to forgive him, but I think he’s definitely learnt his lesson, so I didn’t bother turning him into the school.  I just wanted it all to disappear anyway.

Okay, maybe not all of it.

“Where should we go?” Hinata asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet, sunlight caught in his hair and his eyelashes and his skin.  “A movie?  The arcade?  Oh, there’s this new pop-up cafe near Shinjuku!”

We start walking, not really having any destination in mind, just wanting to remain close to one another.

“Did you bring your volleyball?” I ask, eyeing the bag slung over his shoulder.

“Of course I did!  I’m not an idiot.”

“Debate’s open on that.”

“Hey!  Don’t be mean to me!” He whines.  “Or you can go another week without kissing me.”

I turn to him, genuinely perturbed by this.  “You wouldn’t dare.”

Hinata only grins at me, cheeky and mischievous, and all the things I want to kiss him for.

“Try me.”

I roll my eyes, before continuing to walk toward where I know a park is with a huge open plain and a popcorn stall in the middle.

“Maybe another time,” I say, squeezing his hand.  Hinata squeezes back and bounces along at my side, just as excited as I am to be out together.