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“One more,” Hinata begged, falling to his knees and lacing his fingers. “Just one more, please.”
The boy didn’t seem to notice the way his shoulders heaved; incomplete, shuddering breaths attempting to satisfy his exhausted lungs to no avail. He also didn’t seem to notice the perspiration that clung to his skin, making the bright yellow jersey nearly transparent.
Rolling the ball around in his hands, Kageyama slowly took in the state in which the middle-blocker seemed to be in. Normally, Hinata and he would go for another hour, until one of the other players, usually Tanaka or Yamaguchi, would come by and tell them they should probably start home before they dropped dead. But something about Hinata’s demeanor had Kageyama hesitating.
He was more exhausted than normal. Given that today had been a normal practice, there was no reason as to why Hinata looked close to collapsing, not with his stamina. His legs and hands tremble and his breaths haven’t calmed. If anything, his breathing had become worse: desperate, gasping breaths that sparked a flame of concern in the pit of Kageyama’s stomach.
“We should clean up,” Kageyama replied finally, tossing the ball into a nearby basket. “You're no use to me dead.”
A twinge of regret ran through Kageyama’s veins. It had been a long time since Hinata and Kageyama had settled their differences. Somehow, though, Kageyama still managed to sound like an absolute asshole now and then.
“C’mon, Yama,” Hinata whined. He didn’t get up from his place on the glossy court. “It’s still so early. We can go for a couple more.”
Kageyama just turned away, shucking off his jersey in the process. “I said no.” Without looking back, Kageyama began to put all of the balls away.
By the time he was finished, Hinata had begrudgingly begun to take down the net, shaky fingers struggling with the fine strings of the mats. Hinata’s lips were pursed in what Kageyama can only describe as harsh concentration, an expression the younger had become very accustomed to during their first year of training together.
A look of defiance that melted into an expression of frustration and fear.
A look that said, “I will not lose… but if I did, would I still be useful?”
Kageyama averted his gaze.
The two of them continued to clean up and around an hour later, were on their way home.
Hinata’s hands clung to his handlebars so hard, his knuckles had gone white. The two of them continued to walk in silence for a little while, with nothing to interrupt their thoughts but the occasional cricket song and the coo of a sleepy dove. Now and then, Hinata would trip on an invisible crack or slump slightly forward, clamping his eyes and lips shut.
After the fourth time, Kageyama came to an abrupt stop. “Shoyou, what’s wrong? Why are you acting weird?” His tone was harsh, but if Hinata had paid very close attention, he would have noticed the slight tremble in his words: uneasiness.
Hinata ignored him and continued to trudge slowly up the hill.
Kageyama’s face pinched into a look of irritation. “Shoyou.”
Still, Hinata did not answer. He did, however, come to a stop and set his bike down on the road. When he turned to face the setter, Kageyama took a slight step back. Hinata’s face had gone ghostly pale and a new layer of perspiration glistened on his upper lip despite the cool breeze. He swayed slightly where he stood.
“What’s wrong?” Kageyama asked quietly. He wasn’t sure what to do or how to act. Lately, his feelings towards Hinata had become… muddled. The typical harsh tone he’d always used with the boy had somehow gone soft, his vowels no longer clipped with disdain and frustration. Despite Hinata’s flaws and his amazing talent for pissing him off, Kageyama had come to care deeply for the boy.
Though, it’s unclear if he has come to acknowledge that fact for himself.
Hinata opened his mouth as if to say something, eyes glancing up to catch Kageyama's gaze when he suddenly lurched to the side. Holding his stomach, Hinata clumsily ran to the edge of the road where a huge field of rice swayed in the slight wind and doubled over, emptying his stomach onto the pavement.
It took Kageyama only a moment to react. A moment of hesitation before he was racing to Hinata’s side as the boy continued to convulse and heave until nothing seemed to be left in his system. Once he was finished, Hinata remained crouched for a spell, hands on his knees and eyes shut tight. A quiet groan escaped his throat.
Kageyama didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know if there was anything to say, so he just placed a large hand on Hinata’s back and began to rub at the tense muscles beneath his shirt. The older boy didn’t say anything, just continued to drag in a few wet breaths before wiping his nose with the front of his shirt.
“Sorry, Yama,” he rasped, waving a hand toward the boy. “I’m fine.”
Kageyama scoffed and stepped back. “Obviously. Is that why you just emptied your lunch into the bushes?”
Hinata just shook his head. “Please don’t tell Ennoshita. Or Coach Ukai.” His tone was quiet, pleading. “I can still play.”
“Not in this condition,” Kageyama said, crossing his arms. “You’ll just puke all over the court and then pass out. Why would you even come to practice if you feel this bad?”
Kageyama didn’t know what he was saying. He knew for a fact that even if he was on his deathbed, he’d still crawl out to the gym and get a few sets in. The hypocrisy in his statement and his question had him cringing internally, but seeing the state Hinata was in… he’d rather not get into the details.
Hinata looked away, breath trembling. “You don’t know anything, Kageyama. I’m fine.”
He stomped away, forcefully picked up his bike, and continued his trek up the mountainside. A flicker of white-hot rage licked at Kageyama’s stomach. He was just going to ignore him like that?
“Shoyou, don’t walk away from me,” Kageyama fumed. “This isn’t something you can just brush off! If you’re sick and you continue to come to practice without resting, you won’t be able to compete! You won’t be able to hit my tosses, receive a spike, or even jump as high as you want. You need medicine. And you need to take a day off.”
Hinata’s shoulders had drawn up, seemingly in anger, but he continued to walk. Kageyama sprinted to catch up with him and stopped directly in front of his path, face screwed up in anger.
Hinata looked at him through hazy, confused eyes. His mouth had fallen open in disbelief. “What’s wrong with you, Kageyama? Since when do you care about my well-being? Since we began as first years, you only ever cared about one thing: winning! You don’t care how you do it or who you use to get there. You’re always deciding who you think is essential and who you think is useless in a situation and…” Hinata trailed off, eyes going a bit glossy. “And if I leave, if I don’t practice, I will no longer be essential to you. You won’t need me and I won’t be able to play volleyball.”
Hinata’s angered tone had gone from heated to unbearably soft and vulnerable in the span of just a few moments. Kageyama stepped back, unsure of what to say.
“As much as I hate to say it,” Hinata whispered, looking away. “I only have a place in the starting line-up because of you. No one needs me unless you are there. I’m basically just… Well, I’m just a blank piece of paper. You’re the pencil or the pen who draws the plan, who creates something and can take the credit if it goes well. You can draw anywhere, on any sheet of paper, but I can only wait for someone to decide that I’m worth writing on.”
Kageyama’s brain slowly worked through Hinata’s example and his heart seemed to stop beating in his chest. For 2.5 years Hinata had taken everything he said to heart. For 2.5 years Hinata had believed himself useless unless he was paired up with Kageyama.
For 2.5 years, Hinata had never believed he could fight on his own.
And it was all his fault. “Shoyou…”
Anger flashed in Hinata’s eyes as he turned around, dismissing him and the conversation entirely. “Don’t call me that. We’re not friends. We’re barely allies. We are teammates, that’s it. I can walk myself home.”
Something cracked in Kageyama’s soul. Something deep, entirely emotional, and something that may never be repaired after those words. Over the last two years, Kageyama had thought that they’d moved on from that. He’d-he had hoped they were something different, something more to one another. Of course, Hinata didn’t know that, so Kageyama wasn’t entirely angry with him. Instead, Kageyama was angry with himself for letting it get to this point, for allowing Hinata to think that way for so long, for not stepping in when it was clear how much Hinata had been struggling with the words Kageyama had uttered so long ago.
Now Kageyama was faced with a dilemma: respect Hinata’s wishes. Leave him alone, don’t become attached, and allow their relationship to remain where it is. Call him Hinata, let him walk himself home, and try not to think about what could have been.
Or…
Or.
“I will walk you home,” Kageyama said firmly. “I won’t say a word, I won’t try to help you. I’m just going to make sure you make it home and after this, I won’t try to push it with you.”
Hinata kept walking, silent and uncooperative.
Kageyama cracked an uneasy smile at that. He hadn’t refused…
It was probably the longest walk of Kageyama’s whole life. It was silent, but not the calm, delicate silence that normally settled between the two of them. It was littered with tension, anger, and hurt. The younger of the two tried to ignore the elder’s ragged breathing and resisted the urge to take the bike from him so, at the very least, he could just worry about himself.
But if Hinata wanted space from him, he’d give it.
They reached the top of the hill and Hinata took a moment to drag in a few horrid breaths, doubling over and coughing. They still had at least thirty minutes of walking before they made it to Hinata’s street.
Kageyama clicked his tongue in mock annoyance. “You’ll never make it at this rate, dumbass. Why don’t we just stop at my house tonight?”
Hinata threw a heated glare over his shoulder. “No.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen.” Kageyama rolled his eyes. “I’ll sleep in a separate room.”
The other seemed to hesitate a moment. A soft caress of cold air pressed against their bodies and Hinata released a rushed breath, a sudden body chill pulling his limbs tight against his body. He was trembling. Without a word, he turned toward Kageyama’s street and continued on.
~~~
“You still have clothes in the bottom drawer,” Kageyama told him from the bedroom. “Go take a shower and I’ll lay them on the bed.”
Hinata, stifling a yawn and stepping into the room, flipped him off. “I don’t need your help,” he grumbled. Though his tone was defiant, there was a hint of the Hinata he knew.
Once the elder was safely in the shower, Kageyama quickly grabbed the extra pair of shorts and shirt from his dresser and placed them neatly on the bed. Glancing around the room, he made sure nothing was out of place before heading to the kitchen and grabbing a large mixing bowl from one of the cupboards.
Should he eat anything? Kageyama asked himself, eyeing the fruit on the counter. Or would that make him sick again? Maybe I should just get him some water.
Deciding on that, Kageyama filled a glass with cold water before returning to the bedroom, where Hinata now stood, half-dressed. His hair was wet and dripped down his muscular, defined back as he slid on the dark green T-shirt. Feeling like a fool, Kageyama averted his gaze and cleared his throat. Hinata’s head began to turn, but he didn’t face the other boy entirely.
“I brought some water,” Kageyama said, placing the glass on the side table. “And a bowl, in case you feel sick again.”
The two didn’t look at one another as Kageyama slowly moved through the room and gathered his things for a shower. “I’ll be in the main room if you need anything.”
Hinata hadn’t moved from his place next to Kageyama’s bed, but his head jittered up and down slightly. “‘Kay.”
There was too much space. Too much silence. It was driving Kageyama insane. But instead of closing that space, instead of saying something, he nodded once, pursed his lips, and stepped into the adjoining bathroom.
~~~
Only a couple of hours later, Kageyama was laying down on a spare bed roll in the main room, staring at the ceiling. The idea that he had hurt Hinata so much with those words brought tears to his eyes.
He knew that who he was as a first year, who he was just 2 years ago, was not someone he would ever think of positively. He was selfish and prideful and just not a good person. He’d hurt people.
He’d hurt Hinata.
In the last couple of months, the two of them had gotten a lot closer. After Suga, Daichi, Asahi, and Kyoko graduated, they relied on each other so much that they barely spent a moment apart. It was in those moments, the quiet moments when they were studying or watching a movie or simply passing back and forth in Hinata’s backyard that Kageyama realized how precious Hinata had become to him. He could not fathom the idea of playing volleyball without him, could not handle the fact that one day, they may have one last pass, one last spike, one last match.
To Kageyama, love was a very confusing and overwhelming thing. So for the time being, he has not tried to put what he feels toward Hinata into words. Instead, he measures his adoration in how much he relies upon the elder, and the amount of trust he offers him each time he sets the ball to him. He evaluates his love for Hinata based on the simple fact that Hinata and volleyball are inseparable, therefore impossible to distinguish.
Without Hinata, life didn't make sense.
So, at an ungodly hour, when Kageyama heard Hinata gagging in the bathroom, he shucked the blankets from his body and rushed to him.
Hinata was bent over the toilet, shoulders shuddering as he coughed and spit into the water. He took a few deep breaths and sniffed before leaning his exhausted head onto one of his palms.
Kageyama didn’t say anything, just sat down behind him and ran steady fingers up and down his spine, every now and then reaching up to smooth back the elder’s hair. After several minutes, Hinata sat back and leaned against Kageyama’s chest, tucking his head into the other’s neck. Kageyama’s hands shifted to Hinata’s arms, where he rubbed the quivering muscles in his biceps and forearms until Hinata’s ragged breathing slowed into something a bit more manageable.
“I’m sorry,” Hinata whispered against his skin. “I’m sorry for–for getting angry with you. I know you were just trying to help.”
Kageyama shook his head, though he knew Hinata couldn’t see it. “Don’t apologize. Don’t you dare. You’re sick, you’re exhausted, and you’re allowed to be frustrated and annoyed.”
“No,” Hinata retorted, sitting up and closing the toilet lid so he could perch on it, facing the other. “No, I had no right to throw that in your face. I shouldn’t have said it.”
Kageyama remained silent as Hinata ran a shaking hand through his disheveled hair.
“You’ve changed. We both have. You have been nothing but supportive and encouraging of me these last few months and I… I made you feel as though you haven’t done enough. You were the first person to believe in me, the first person to give me a real shot at playing volleyball. And I will always appreciate that. I think I was just scared of you seeing me so vulnerable. I was scared you would see how useless I really am, especially if I didn’t show up to practice and you got to work with the other guys. I didn’t… I couldn’t fathom the idea of you realizing you don’t need me anymore.”
Kageyama’s eyes began to water, so he looked away and quickly ran the front of his shirt over his face. “Dumbass, I told you it was fine.” Oh, the poet he was. His way with words was immaculate. “I mean, I understand. Wait, no. I don’t–”
Hinata stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Yama. I don’t expect you to say anything.”
Kageyama shook his head firmly, a few tears escaping and rolling down his cheeks. “No. No, it isn’t okay. I should have never said those things back then. I know I can’t take them back so I just… I just want you to know that you are my pillar. You are the most–the most important thing that’s ever happened to me. If you hadn’t shown up to that stupid tournament with your basketball and soccer-playing friends, I never would have found this passion to keep improving my skills.” He took a deep breath and looked into Hinata’s dull, watering eyes. “I need you. Not just as a study partner, not as my spiker, not as my teammate or my ally. I need you. You are what makes sense to me and you alone are the only person who has ever given me a deeper meaning. You helped me change for the better.”
A strangled sob worked its way out of Hinata’s throat and he collapsed forward, wrapping himself completely around the other. Kageyama only pulled him closer, wrapping both arms tightly around his torso and Hinata responded by crossing his ankles behind the younger’s back and pressing his face into his shoulder.
Neither boy knew how long they sat on that floor. It could have been a few minutes or several hours, but once Kageyama’s ass grew numb and Hinata had fallen asleep on his chest, the younger struggled to a standing position, one hand on the counter, the other wrapped tightly around Hinata’s waist to keep him from slipping.
Being as quiet and as careful as possible, Kageyama brought them both into his room, where he climbed under the sheets, Hinata still pressed tightly to his chest.
Once they were settled, Kageyama closed his eyes, ignoring every single thing that wasn’t Hinata. He kept a careful eye on the boy’s fever, stroking his messy hair back from his forehead every few minutes to see if it had broken or not. Kageyama was also keenly aware of the dampness on his shirt from Hinata’s incessant need to drool in his sleep, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when this gorgeous, selfless, hard-working, amazing person was sleeping peacefully in his room, on his bed.
Hinata stirred a bit in his sleep, just enough to raise a hand to Kageyama’s cheek and swipe a thumb over his cheekbone and whisper into his neck: “‘Night, Yama.”
Kageyama cracked a smile at that. “Goodnight, Shoyou.”
Kageyama wasn’t perfect. He had a short temper and a slightly irritating addiction to curry buns; he had an extremely strong competitive side and often struggled with expressing his feelings, but he knew he would work on it. He would learn and grow to be a better person because that’s what Hinata deserved.