Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hajime’s last year of middle school started very normally. He was in class 3-3. A few of his friends from last year were there. Oikawa was in a different class this year, which he would never admit—not even under pain of death—felt weird. He and Oikawa had met when they were seven years old. Hajime’s family had just moved to Miyagi, and at first he hadn’t had much interest in the boy his age who lived next door. He’d been obsessed with bugs as a kid and had spent most of his days off school outside in the fields and the little strip of woods near their houses trying to catch a bunch. Then he’d stumbled upon Oikawa getting hit in the head by a falling ball, and that was his introduction to the world of volleyball and the start of his friendship with one Oikawa Tooru.

They’d gone to the same elementary school and had been in the same class every year. That trend had continued through their first two years of middle school. Not having him there was a little jarring. He’d catch himself turning to say something to the other boy, only to stop himself just before the words could come out when he remembered that Oikawa was two classes away in 3-5. Despite having his other friends, none of them were Oikawa. They weren’t his best friend. Hajime was never left to stew very long though. During lunch and any breaks, Oikawa threw himself through the door with a loud “Iwa-chan!” everyday without fail.

Volleyball was the only thing that felt like it hadn’t changed. Ever since he’d first started playing, the sport had always felt like it was easy as breathing. Jumping, spiking, receiving, serving; the repetitiveness of it calmed him. He got better at all of those things as he got older, but they’d never changed. 

He was vice captain this year beside Oikawa. The night after they’d found out, they’d huddled under Oikawa’s blanket and vowed that this year would be the year Kitagawa Daiichi beat Shiratorizawa Junior High. When they met the new first years after tryouts had wrapped up, Hajime felt confident that they might actually be able to do it. Three of the new players had caught his eye during introductions. Kindaichi was tall, even as a first year. His spiking was solid and he showed some serious promise with his blocks. In Hajime’s opinion Kunimi could stand to be a little more energetic during practice, but he knew the first year was working hard and showed enthusiasm a little differently than Hajime was used to seeing. 

He found Kageyama interesting in a couple of ways. For one, he was great at setting. Despite being a little shorter than Hajime—who wasn’t the tallest guy to begin with—he was an effective blocker. His love for volleyball was so obvious in each and every one of his movements; he did everything with care and precision. Outside of the boy’s talent, Hajime was curious to see what spiking one of his tosses would be like. Oikawa had been his setter pretty much since the beginning. He’d been made Kitagawa’s official setter back in their first year, and with both he and Hajime being regulars, Hajime hadn’t really practiced with the second year setter all that much last year. He was kind of excited to see what he and Kageyama could do together.

Practice became his favourite part of the day as the weeks wore on and spring became summer. The new members of the team meshed almost seamlessly with the second years and the rest of the third years. Almost, because Oikawa seemed to have an issue with Kageyama. Hajime didn’t really understand it. Kageyama hadn’t done anything wrong really. Sure, he could understand that being asked everyday, sometimes more than once, to teach someone how to do a jump serve could be annoying. But Hajime didn’t think Kageyama meant to be annoying. He was so wide-eyed and… innocent. He walked around the gym and watched the others—watched Oikawa and even Hajime—with these huge blue eyes. He was on the shyer side, which Hajime thought might lend to the slight issue he had with communicating his thoughts. He stuck to Kindaichi and Kunimi, and whenever the team had a practice match he tended to hide behind Oikawa. 

His best friend found it annoying. Privately, Hajime thought it was kind of cute.

That changed after a particularly hard-to-swallow loss for Oikawa. 

He’d been subbed out of a game, replaced by Kageyama. Oikawa’s focus had slipped a little and he’d been scrambling to keep it together during the match, so Coach had put Kageyama in for the end of it. Now, Oikawa and Hajime were close. They shared just about everything, and they didn’t keep secrets from each other, so Hajime had known for a while that part of the reason his friend was so standoffish toward the first year was because he was insecure. Kageyama was a natural—a genius—he said, so that apparently made him inherently superior. Oikawa was afraid that Kageyama was going to take his place, that everything Oikawa did and was as a player would be overlooked for the simple genius of the way Kageyama played volleyball. 

He saw being subbed out of one set, in one game, as the moment his fears had come true. Unfortunately, all of the stress and anxiety that had been building up since the start of the year came out in a bout of violence. 

Hajime considered himself lucky that he’d walked into the gym when he had. Oikawa liked to stay after official practice had ended and do some stuff on his own, and Kageyama had picked up on that. Sometimes the first year would occupy another corner of the gym while they were there, but he wasn’t there everyday. It sucked that he’d decided to stay after practice the day after the game. 

Hajime had been on his way to tell Oikawa it was time to go home. He’d fully expected to walk in there and see his best friend working himself into the floor and had resigned himself to having to drag the other boy out. He’d have done it too. By the hair that Oikawa was so protective of. 

Every thought in his brain had disappeared when he walked through the door and saw Oikawa’s arm whip out at Kageyama. Hajime moved before he really understood that he was moving. He grabbed Oikawa’s wrist mere inches before his hand could connect with Kageyama’s face. 

“Oikawa, what the hell!”

He put himself between the two setters, his brows pinched so tight a headache was already forming. He could feel that his eyes were wide open as he stared, speechless, at his best friend. He turned to look at Kageyama. The boy’s eyes alternated between the two of them and Hajime could see the confusion in the blue depths. It made him a little sad when he saw that confusion move aside to allow concern space to come through whenever he looked at Oikawa. 

“Kageyama, are you alright?” He asked.

He ignored Oikawa’s huff behind him. Kageyama’s eyes hadn’t moved. Hajime placed his free hand on the boy’s arm and squeezed lightly. That finally got his attention. Wide blue eyes met his. Kageyama’s head tilted a little the way it did when he gave someone his undivided attention.

“Kageyama, it’s getting pretty late. I have to close the gym now. Are—are you going to be okay getting home?”

Kageyama blinked at him. “I don’t live far.”

“Okay. We’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Hajime gave him a gentle push to get him moving. Kageyama put away the ball he’d been holding. Hajime watched him slip his club jacket on and change his shoes before slipping his bag over his shoulder.

“Goodnight, Iwaizumi-senpai, Oikawa-senpai.”

“Night, Kageyama,” Hajime called.

Once the gym door was closed Oikawa pulled hard to get his arm free, and Hajime let him go. The words he hadn’t been able to find earlier came back to him now. Anger, hot and racing, made his heart start to pound. He whirled on Oikawa.

“What the hell was that? Were you seriously about to hit him? Look Oikawa, I get that how natural his playing looks has been difficult for you, but that does not give you any sort of right to lay a hand on him. Ever. Honestly, what were you thinking?”

Oikawa turned his back and picked up one of the dozen balls at his feet.

“Tooru—”

“You don’t get it!” Oikawa yelled. “He’s so much better than I am. I can’t do the things that he does. I can’t get that kind of accuracy. I can’t give the kind of exact toss that just shows up in the spiker’s hand like he does. He’s so much better! I know the team could win so easily if he was the main setter. I know they don’t need me if they have him. I can’t—”

In a moment of blind frustration, Hajime stalked over to Oikawa. More impulsively than out of proper forethought, he head butted the boy as soon as he turned around. It was only after the fact that he realised he’d been standing too close and there really wasn’t much of a difference in how tall they were. Oikawa’s nose started bleeding and he stumbled back, tripped over his own feet and ended up on the floor. Hajime ignored that for the moment.

“So what if the team could win with him! They win with you right now. So what if Kageyama’s a genius with tosses that are easy to hit? Natural talent can’t compete with hard work and experience, which you have! So stop saying he’s better than you and that you can’t do what he can. You’re not supposed to play like he does, you’re supposed to play like you, and that’s more than enough. And stop talking like how well you can play is the only thing that matters in a game. There are six people on the court, Tooru, and the stronger six always wins. You’re not alone out there.”

There were tears shining in Oikawa’s eyes now. He stared up at Hajime from where he still sat on the floor, blood leaking down to his mouth. Guilt crept in as he watched the red stream keep coming. He hadn’t meant to hit Oikawa that hard, or in the face. Oikawa blinked a few times and then turned his head away, turning his nose up with a humph. 

“I can’t believe Iwa-chan hit me in the face. You’re such a brute,” he huffed.

Hajime rolled his eyes, and knew they’d be okay. 

He helped Oikawa back to his feet and told him to go clean up. While he did that, Hajime cleaned up the gym. He used the time by himself to think. He’d known how Oikawa’s feelings toward Kageyama had turned from indifferent upperclassman to disdainful rival, but he hadn’t thought it would ever come to this. He’d never even considered Oikawa hitting Kageyama as a possible outcome of a blowup. 

He was going to need to try and keep Kageyama and Oikawa as separate as possible. Maybe he could talk to Kunimi and Kindaichi and enlist their help. Kageyama was comfortable with them. Hopefully that meant they’d have an easy go of holding his attention during practice. Oikawa avoided Kageyama anyway so all Hajime would need to do was keep an eye on him during the moments where they had no choice but to be in close proximity.

He felt bad for Kageyama. He looked at Oikawa like he hung the freaking moon and all he’d ever asked for from the boy was to teach him how to do a jump serve. He seemed completely oblivious to the way Oikawa both felt and treated him, which Hajime thought was sad and kind of impressive. Hajime would have offered to help Kageyama himself since learning the jump serve was apparently very important to him, only, Hajime could barely execute one himself. He still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of the initial toss, and he hit the ball into the net more than he made it over. He didn’t think he’d be of much value. 

And he needed to do something about Oikawa’s insecurities. He knew he couldn’t get rid of them, but he was slacking pretty badly in his best friend duties if things had gotten this bad and he’d done nothing to try and help Oikawa. 

Once Oikawa came back from the bathroom—changed and ready to go home even—Hajime turned out the lights and locked up. They walked home in silence. When they reached their houses Hajime punched Oikawa in the arm gently as a goodnight and made his way inside. He would worry about what had happened tonight, tomorrow. Right now he just wanted to go to bed. 

*  *  *

Three years later…

“Is he gonna make it?” Makki asked.

“He better or a strained ankle will be the least of his worries,” Hajime grumbled. “Mattsun, stop untying my laces.”

Hajime directed a blank stare down at his friend who was supposed to be doing warmup stretches. Matsukawa smiled and made the most innocent expression his features were capable of pulling as he continued tugging one end of the shoelace on Hajime’s left shoe, untying it for the third time since they’d arrived in the gym. Hajime rolled his eyes and dropped to one knee to retie it.

Just then the gym doors opened. Hajime finished with his shoe and looked up to see what they were up against today. They were having a practice match with Karasuno, a school Hajime knew next to nothing about. Oikawa had requested the match and only told Hajime why after they’d agreed to it. He’d hoped two years would have been enough time for all of the bad feelings from middle school to settle, but apparently he’d been too optimistic. This match wasn’t to anyone’s benefit. Oikawa had organised it purely to assess Kageyama, especially after hearing how his attitude had changed over the last couple of years. 

Karasuno was an intimidating bunch, to say the least. The team was small, but their all black club jackets and track pants and the serious expressions on their faces lent them a certain aura. 

He looked them over passively, wondering who played what position. His attention was drawn by a pair of bright yellow socks. He dragged his eyes up a long lean leg, pale skin ending at black shorts. Skipping up the white tee shirt, Hajime’s eyes settled on a familiar face.

Woah

When they’d first met, the word Hajime would have used to describe Kageyama’s face would have probably been round. He’d still had a fair amount of baby fat resting on his cheeks at twelve. Hajime couldn’t find any trace of that as he looked at sixteen-year-old Kageyama. The younger boy’s features were sharp and more mature. There was an intensity about him now that hadn’t been there the last time Hajime had seen him. His gaze was heavy and assessing as he looked over Seijoh’s team, no longer so wide and wonder-filled. His expression leaned a little more toward a glower, but it didn’t pinch his face any. 

In simpler terms, Hajime thought Kageyama was fucking pretty.

The boy had grown up very well. 

Some feeling squirmed in Hajime’s chest as he continued to stare. He’d known Kageyama since the boy was twelve years old. Never in that time—not when they were at Kitagawa or in the years since—had he found Kageyama attractive. It felt like his eyes were stuck. He couldn’t stop looking at Kageyama, at the ways he’d changed in the last two years. Their eyes met across the gym, and Hajime watched Kageyama almost startle, like he hadn’t realised Hajime was there. Kageyama glanced briefly somewhere to Hajime’s right. When he looked back he lifted one hand and gave a little wave before ducking his head slightly and turning back to his own team. Hajime tried to bite back the smile that wanted to stretch his lips up. He was still shy. 

“Oi, Iwaizumi!”

Hajime whipped toward Makki and smacked the guy’s hand away from his shoulder.

“What?” He hissed.

“Coach is calling for you. Did you not hear him?”

Hajime glanced at Irihata to see the man standing with his arms crossed. Hajime left Makki and Mattsun and made his way over. Heat flooded his cheeks when his coach raised one brow at him. A man with glasses and curly hair walked up to them, followed by one of Karasuno’s players. Irihata bowed shallowly and held his hand out for the other coach.

“Thank you for agreeing to the match, Takeda-sensei.”

Takeda took Irihata’s hand with both of his and bowed. “Thank you for having us!”

Hajime stuck his own hand out to the boy beside Takeda. “Iwaizumi Hajime, vice-captain.”

“Sawamura Daichi, captain.” Sawamura’s grip was harsher than Hajime had anticipated. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“Glad you could make it.”

With introductions over with, both pairs turned and left for their sides of the gym. Hajime flexed his hand once neither coach nor the other team’s captain could see him. 

“That looked pleasant,” Mattsun drawled once Hajime got back.

“The guy looks nice, but…”

“Think he’ll be a problem?” Makki asked.

“Maybe.”

Warmups started. Half of Hajime’s focus was on the team, the other half was stuck on the fact that Oikawa still hadn’t shown up. A simmering frustration hummed in his blood as warmups came to a close and the match was called to start. Hajime watched the back entrance of the gym while the team huddled around Irihata. When it hadn’t opened by the time both teams were called to take their places, Hajime huffed and waved Yahaba over. Oikawa was lucky they had another setter to cover his ass. 

“They put the shorty up front?” 

At Yahaba’s surprised statement Hajime looked the other team over. Kageyama was unsurprisingly in the setter position. Tall skinny kid with glasses and a guy with a buzzcut stood on the opposite end of the court from him. Between them was a tiny kid with aggressively orange hair. Sawamura was in the back with another dark-haired boy. 

Hajime was a little surprised as well. Middle blockers were typically the tallest members of the team, but here the shorty was. 

“Haven’t we seen him before?” He heard Kindaichi murmur. 

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Kunimi whispered back.

The whistle blew, cutting off their conversation. 

The game… was not what Hajime was expecting it to be. Karasuno’s little middle blocker kind of sucked. He kept messing up simple little things and even ran into Buzzcut once. Hajime wasn’t a kind enough person to not laugh, but he tried to get the team to keep their voices down. Laughing at small mistakes was fine, but it could become belittling rather quickly and that he would not allow. At least Karasuno was patient. Glasses and Buzzcut laughed at the little ginger. He, Sawamura, and the other guy on the back line tried to encourage him and keep the rest of team’s morale up. The kid was nervous, they could all see that.

Hajime’s eye narrowed when Kindaichi stepped up to the net. He could hear the first year talking to the middle blocker across the net, and whatever he’d said made the kid pale a few shades. He frowned when he heard Kageyama’s name. 

The ginger missed the next toss that went up to him.

“Hinata. That was my bad. The toss was too long, sorry.”

Hinata looked shocked. Hajime noticed that Kunimi and Kindaichi did too. Seeing the looks on their faces made him wonder briefly just what had happened after he’d left Kitagawa. He hadn’t asked, mostly because he didn’t care all that much, too focused on his high school team. Oikawa knew something; it was half the reason for this damn practice match that he hadn’t bothered to show up for. Maybe it was time he found out. He pushed the thought out of his head and refocused on the game.

`   `   `

Hajime’s hackles raised as soon as the sound of squealing girls filled the gym. His hand clenched around his water bottle. 

“Yaho, Tobio-chan. Long time no see.”

His best friend’s voice grated on his nerves. One set. They were one set into the practice match that Oikawa had requested, and the ass only showed up now. Hajime was going to kill him. Just as he was about to turn and do just that, Matsukawa’s long arm wrapped around his shoulders, cinching Hajime into his side. He squirmed and grumbled and eventually gave up. Matsukawa didn’t let go, even when Oikawa had finally reached their huddle. 

“Oikawa,” Irihata drawled. “Nice of you to join us. How’s the ankle?”

“All good, Coach,” Oikawa said with a grin.

“That’s good to hear. Go warm up, we’ll keep Yahaba in for now.”

“Yes sir.”

Hajime glared at his best friend’s back as he made his way into a free corner of the gym to start stretching. Matsukawa dragged him back to the court once the break was over. Hajime was deposited in his place in front of the net. His glare turned to Matsukawa as he told Hajime to stay as he took his own position. 

They lost the second set, somehow. Karasuno wasn’t terrible, but Hinata and Glasses weren’t the best players and their defence was made up pretty much entirely by Sawamura. The captain did great—he’d be a pain in the ass on a better team—but it wasn’t a good thing that it all rode on one player. And not even a libero, which Hajime was beginning to suspect they didn’t have. He almost wanted to offer up their first year reserve libero just to give them a better shot. 

But, even with all of the odds stacked against them, Karasuno managed to take the second set from them. They were a tenacious bunch.

Irihata finally put Oikawa in for the third set. Hajime watched with no small amount of pride as his captain’s serves ripped holes through Karasuno. He got one, two, three points in a row off the kid with the glasses. A no-touch ace ripped over the net; four points. Hinata tried to get Oikawa’s attention, but he ignored the kid, getting their fifth point in a row off Glasses. His next serve went out of bounds, but the damage had already been done. Karasuno was starting to panic, even Kageyama who Hajime had always known to be calm and unflappable. 

For the first time, he wondered if Oikawa got to Kageyama as much as Kageyama did Oikawa. 

To their credit, Karasuno fought hard to keep the point gap small once they’d built up a bit of momentum. Hajime frowned as they got a break point, as they reached match point. He watched in complete astonishment as Kageyama sent up one of the fastest tosses Hajime had ever seen. Hinata soared to meet it, slamming a well-executed broad shot into the empty space behind Oikawa’s right shoulder. 

And the game was over. 

Not exactly how Hajime had expected it to go, but it had been a good game nonetheless. 

The teams lined up and shook hands, and then dispersed throughout the gym to start cooling down. Hajime went through a cycle of stretches, revelling in the way his muscles ached. Oikawa dropped down beside him.

“I see Tobio-chan is as annoying as ever,” he said. 

Hajime rolled his eyes and sat up. Oikawa was looking out across the gym and Hajime followed his gaze. Kageyama was doing his own cool down exercises, nothing else. 

“He played well.”

Oikawa huffed. “Even so, his team sucks.”

“You can be a real shitty guy sometimes, you know that?” Hajime bent into another stretch.

“You’re thinking the same thing!”

“Yeah, but I know how to keep my mouth shut when I have nothing nice to say.”

“You just called me shitty!” Oikawa cried.

“Yeah, cause you are. And you don’t count.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan!”

Hajime shrugged. He finished his cool down and got up, watching his team as they completed their own. He looked back over at Karasuno, his eyes zeroing in on Kageyama like he was a magnet. He really had grown up. Something nostalgia-adjacent made his chest feel all fuzzy. 

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” he said.

“Who?” Oikawa asked.

“Kageyama.”

“What! Why on earth would you want to do that?”

“He’s my underclassman, am I not allowed to talk to him?”

“That’s a bullshit reason. And he’s not your underclassman anymore.”

Hajime started to walk away.

“Iwa-chan.”

He was having fun getting a rise out of his best friend. He smirked to himself. Oikawa wanted an honest answer? Hajime could be honest.

“Fine. I’m going to talk to him because he’s attractive and I’m interested.”

There was nothing but silence from the Seijoh captain as he continued crossing the gym. Then, when he was about halfway:

“Iwaizumi Hajime you get back here right now!”

At Oikawa’s shriek all movement in the gym stopped. Even the coaches turned to see what was going on. Hajime just kept walking. Kageyama watched him, then his head tilted as he seemed to understand that Hajime was walking toward him specifically. 

“Hey Kageyama,” he said once he was a few paces away.

“Iwaizumi-san.”

Damn

His voice had gotten very deep. A prickle went down Hajime’s spine. 

“It’s been a while, I figured I’d come say hi properly. You played well today.”

Kageyama’s blue eyes darted around for a moment before resettling on Hajime’s face. It felt a little strange not having to look down at all to meet the first year’s eyes anymore. 

“Thank you Iwaizumi-san. You—played the same as always.”

Hajime grinned. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good. You’ve always been good.”

“Thanks, Kageyama,” he said with genuine gratitude. 

A brief silence blanketed them. Kageyama’s eyes looked somewhere over Hajime’s shoulder.  The younger boy’s face closed off entirely for a moment and he barely looked at Hajime.

“I think Oikawa-san wants you back,” he said.

Hajime glanced over his shoulder. Oikawa looked less than impressed and mildly manic. He was amused to see that the boy’s face was red. He sighed. 

“Yeah. It was nice seeing you again. Get home safe.”

Kageyama looked at him through the inky curtain of his hair and Hajime smiled. Kageyama looked away quickly.

“Bye, Iwaizumi-san.”

He returned to the side of the gym his team was occupying. He ignored Oikawa completely and called out to the rest of the team to start cleaning up. He helped take the net down while the first years grabbed mops and the second years got rid of the ball cart. Oikawa disappeared at some point, but Hajime wasn’t really concerned. 

After the stunt he’d pulled he was certain to have a raging headache by the time he got home, but overall, Hajime thought it had been a pretty good day.

*  *  *

Hajime didn’t see Kageyama again for a long while. They played each other at the inter-high, but he didn’t count that as a real meeting. They never spoke to each other; Hajime hadn’t received more than a focused glance mid-game. Hajime, meanwhile, had stared far more than he probably should have. Oikawa had rolled his eyes and griped dramatically every time he caught the ace in the act. 

He hadn’t stopped complaining about Hajime’s poor taste in men since that practice match. Hajime honestly couldn’t care less. Sure, Kageyama and Oikawa had their issues. Sure, Hajime understood Oikawa’s side of it and didn’t hold his feelings against him. But he also knew that at his core, once you got past the scowl and the lacklustre ability to communicate his thoughts, Kageyama was a nice guy, and Oikawa’s problems weren’t Hajime’s. If he wanted to pursue Kageyama, the only person he was going to let put a stop to it was Kageyama himself. 

This kind-of-strange new attraction to the first year had dredged up a lot of memories of Hajime’s third year in middle school. At the time, Hajime had only seen Kageyama as an underclassman. He’d called a few of the boy’s mannerisms cute because there really hadn’t been any other word to describe them. Kageyama had been earnest and eager to please. He tried to do his best for all of his teammates and he genuinely loved playing volleyball. He’d followed Oikawa around like a baby duck; there had been a time or two when it had been Hajime that he’d followed. 

Those two occasions had been practice matches held at other schools and Oikawa had been indisposed. He’d been such a shy kid. All big eyes and averted gazes. It always surprised him when he thought about how much Kageyama’s demeanour changed when he was with the team and when there were others around. The first time he’d followed Hajime around had been a little odd. The second time, Hajime hadn’t minded seeing Kageyama every time he glanced over his shoulder. 

Moments when he’d helped Kageyama with his form, with receives, that one time he’d given the boy pointers on spiking, all came back in moments he found himself distracted. They were tinged gold around the edges and warm. Happy, despite what had happened that year. 

Beyond being attracted to him, Hajime was fond of Kageyama. He didn’t know how much of that was because of their history together and the good memories he had of Kitagawa, and how much was what he actually knew about the setter. Which, admittedly, was not a whole lot now. They’d only known each other for a year, really. Two years in both age and differing schools gouged a deep canyon between then and now. 

He knew Kageyama had changed, and not necessarily for the better. He’d gotten the story out of Kunimi after striking out with Kindaichi. The onion-head had been too angry to really explain anything. He’d then gone to Oikawa which, his mistake. His friend had just used it as an opportunity to justify his opinion of the younger boy. It had unsettled him a little bit, hearing just how much Kageyama had changed. He’d gone from kind and friendly to angry, commanding, and closed off. Hajime wondered often what had happened. Kunimi hadn’t had an answer for him when he’d asked, which had ticked him off a little. Because hadn’t they been friends? Hajime remembered seeing Kageyama eating lunch with Kunimi and Kindaichi on more than one occasion. They’d picked each other without a second thought during practice. 

He thought they’d gotten along really well. So then why had neither of them asked Kageyama what was going on? Why hadn’t they had more questions—or any questions at all—about the sudden turn in temperament? It was all very strange to him. 

He put his questions out of his head as he neared the entrance of the supermarket. He lazily grabbed a shopping cart and fished the list his mother had given him out of his back pocket. He walked in the general direction of the produce section. He squinted at the paper, trying to read his mother’s atrocious handwriting. Did that say cauliflower? He couldn’t tell. He was just going to assume it said cauliflower. The next two things on her list were written too close together for him to decipher what the hell the woman had been trying to put down. He sighed and rubbed at the ache beginning between his brows from how much he’d been squinting. 

He flinched when something knocked into his back. He turned. He blinked as pleasant surprise filled him. Kageyama was there looking at apples; his basket had hit Hajime when he’d move his arm. 

“Hey Kageyama.”

The boy whipped around like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been. It made Hajime smile. Kageyama’s shoulders lowered from where they’d been trying to become one with his ears as he recognised who was talking to him.

“Iwaizumi-san,” he greeted.

His blue gaze went a little shifty. Kageyama wouldn’t look him in the eye for very long before sliding his focus off somewhere else. 

“How are you?” Hajime asked. 

“Okay.”

Hajime started to feel a little awkward. He nodded to himself when the silence had stretched on long enough to border on uncomfortable. His fingers twitched in a wave and he turned, starting to push his cart over to where the onions were. 

“What are you doing here?”

The question had been almost yelled at him. Hajime turned back around. He thought the answer was pretty obvious, but Kageyama was making an effort to continue their stilted conversation, so he wouldn’t say anything about it. The boy’s face was steadily reddening. Hajime took a few steps closer to him, dragging the shopping cart behind him. 

“My mom sent me out for some stuff. What about you?” he said.

“Dumbass Hinata is staying over and said we need snacks.”

Hajime glanced at Kageyama’s basket. There were protein bars, a loaf of bread, and banana milk in it. 

“Right.”

Kageyama seemed to understand that Hajime was scrutinising his choices and found them wanting. His shoulders hunched again. 

“I don’t know what to get. I’ve never had someone want to spend the night before,” he grumbled. 

Hajime’s amusement turned into sadness. He’d never had a sleepover before? That revelation brought back his questions about the boy’s friendship with Kunimi and Kindaichi. Had they not actually been friends, after all? Hajime doubted that, but he didn’t know what else to think in the moment. He and Oikawa had basically lived in each other’s houses since they were eight. It was still a tossup on whether one of their beds would be empty or occupied by two grown eighteen-year-olds at the end of the night. Hajime smiled the next time Kageyama’s eyes flicked up to meet his. 

“Did you want some help?” He asked. 

Kageyama didn’t so much as twitch for a minute, then gave a jerky nod of his head. 

“Come on, we can find stuff for your sleepover while I try to figure out what my mom wants me to get.”

They walked in companionable silence through the produce section. They moved on to the meat next, since it was the only thing that was written neatly on the whole list. Hajime’s trouble began when he reached the aisles. They came to a stop at the beginning of the first aisle. He read over the characters written on the paper, but some of them were so congested and smudged that he couldn’t read a lot of it. Suddenly there was a gentle heat at his back. The clean smell of shampoo filtered into his nose. He turned his head just enough to look. Kageyama was standing very close to him, reading over his shoulder. Hajime watched his eyes move back and forth, got distracted by the way his lips moved as he mouthed the words on the page. 

“Wait,” Hajime muttered, afraid to speak too loud and scare him off. “You can read this thing?”

Kageyama’s blue eyes—gods they were so blue—met his. The boy hummed, his head barely tipping in a shallow nod of confirmation. Hajime’s brow rose as he looked back at the shopping list. How bad was Kageyama’s handwriting if he could read that, Hajime wondered.

Kageyama stepped around him and in front of the cart, wrapping long thin fingers through the metal grid of its frame. He started walking, pulling it—and by extension Hajime—along behind him.  He threw something into the cart and then stuck his hand out. Hajime blanked for a moment before realising that he wanted the list. 

He left Kageyama to do his thing. As they neared the aisle he knew housed the chips and candy, he gently coaxed a preoccupied Kageyama to let go of his basket. He slipped down the aisle and grabbed a few things that most people liked, not sure of Kageyama’s snack preferences. 

He trailed after the boy, a fuzzy, almost buzzing feeling making his stomach go all fluttery as they continued to shop for each other. After sticking a box of microwave popcorn into the basket he decided to call it quits. He didn’t know if Kageyama would be able to afford everything he’d grabbed. 

He was content to walk in silence as he watched Kageyama do such a mundane task. There was nothing special about grocery shopping, but somehow it was fun doing it with Kageyama, even if they didn’t talk much. He watched with a small smile as the boy went over the whole list, digging through the cart to find each item. When he was satisfied that he’d gotten everything, he nodded to himself. He cut off whatever he’d been about to say when he lifted his head, his eyes widening a fraction as they met Hajime’s. He shoved the list at Hajime, all but punching him in the chest, and tore his hand away like it had been burned. 

“Here,” he said, holding the basket out. “This should get you through the night.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Kageyama,” Hajime started after a few moments of silence, “could I get your phone number?”

Kageyama blinked at him like he’d been speaking English. Then he fished around in his pocket. Hajime put his number into the boy’s phone, sending himself a text. His own phone vibrated in his pocket. 

“Thanks for the help. Get home safe, yeah?” Hajime said as he rolled the cart toward the checkout.

Kageyama waved at him. Hajime made it home with aching hands and a good feeling in his chest.

*  *  *

He started messaging Kageyama slowly. He started with simple things like ‘good morning’ or ‘good luck at practice’. Just one or two messages a day to gauge if the boy wanted to talk to him or not. Kageyama always replied. Usually one word messages or Hajime’s own greetings repeated back to him. It got more casual when one night, Hajime had been frustrated with his calculus homework. He wouldn’t complain to Oikawa; his friend’s university prep classes were hard enough. He didn’t need to be Hajime’s math tutor while also trying to keep up with his own classwork. Even though Hajime knew he would in a heartbeat. 

He scrolled through his phone for a few minutes. When nothing jumped out at him as a good distraction, he pulled up his messages. His conversation with Kageyama opened, and he thought, why not?

[HAJIME]

Calculus is a nightmare

A minute later three little dots popped up, telling him Kageyama was typing.

[KAGEYAMA]

I don’t know what that is

Hajime laughed, read the message and laughed again. The dots popped back up a few minutes later.

Oh. Iwaizumi-san fighting

Hajime smiled down at his phone. There was nothing in the messages that would help him solve the problem set his teacher had assigned, but they made him feel a little better. He got back to it, not struggling any less through the formulas, but a little more motivated to get them done. 

That night marked the beginning of actual regular conversation between the pair. When Hajime found himself bored, or if he just wanted to talk to the boy, he’d shoot off a text. Kageyama usually always answered, and Hajime was happy to note the his responses were getting progressively longer. Pure sunlight had shot through his veins the day Kageyama texted him first. 

As they texted, he tried his best to get to know the boy again. It was hard in the beginning. Kageyama was very tight-lipped about his personal life. The first thing he’d shared with Hajime was his disappointment that the stray cat in his neighbourhood didn’t seem to like him very much. Hajime had fished a little and discovered that Kageyama loved cats, and that he’d always wanted one but his dad was allergic. He found out the boy had an older sister when he’d texted to ask Hajime for help buying a birthday gift. He’d hounded Akemi—Oikawa’s older sister—for suggestions because he had no clue what girls liked. He was an only child, friends with predominantly boys, and very gay. Women’s preferences were an unknown entity to him.

They talked about volleyball a lot, which wasn’t surprising. They never talked about their teams though. When he’d asked, he was a little shocked to find out that Kageyama’s favourite movie genre was romcoms. He hadn’t expected that one. Kageyama was apparently fairly apt at cooking. His difficulties with his studies were revealed when Hajime had received a text at nearly two in the morning one night. He felt mean for thinking it, but Kageyama really wasn’t book smart. Hajime had helped him with his homework until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. 

He decided to take things one step further after a few weeks of back and forth. 

[HAJIME]

Hey, did you want to hang out today?

It was the weekend and entirely too early to be awake when he didn’t have school or volleyball practice, but he assumed that Kageyama would be awake. He’d learned the boy was naturally an early riser and liked to jog first thing in the morning. Sure enough, a few minutes later a text came through.

[KAGEYAMA]

And do what?

Hajime pursed his lips. A good question. Nails clicked on the floor outside his bedroom and he recalled their conversation about cats. It wasn’t the same but…

[HAJIME]

Do you want to meet my dog?

[KAGEYAMA]

You have a dog?

Hajime smiled as he typed in the name of the dog park near his house and told Kageyama to meet him there in a couple of hours. He got out of bed once he’d received a reply. He went through his morning, getting dressed and eating breakfast, with a bit of a spring in his step. His dad watched him over the rim of his coffee cup as he puttered around the kitchen.

“You’re in a good mood,” the man said. 

Hajime just shrugged.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain boy?”

Hajime whipped around and stared at his father, mouth gaping around silent words. 

“How do you know about him?” He asked.

His dad smiled. “Tooru has been complaining a lot lately.”

“He’s always complaining about something.”

“True, but he’s never complained about you marrying his greatest enemy and being brought over to the dark side before. That tipped his mother off.”

“Marriage? No one’s ever said anything about marriage!” Hajime could feel his cheeks start blazing. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“But you are going out to see him, yes? I can’t think of any other reason you’d be dressed on a Saturday.”

“I could be hanging out with Makki and Mattsun,” he grumbled. 

“Neither of them know how to knock. If you were hanging out with them they would have been pilfering all of our food before you’d even gotten down the stairs. And you’re not hanging out with Tooru either, you would have just gone over in your pyjamas.”

“Fine,” he growled. “I’m going to hang out with him. I’m taking Momo, is that okay?”

“Momo? Are you too nervous to be alone with this boy?” His dad teased.

Hajime’s cheeks rose to concerning temperatures as he looked away from his father. “No. He just—likes animals. Cats specifically, but he can’t have one. So… I thought I could bring Momo to meet him to make up for it,” he grumbled, embarrassed. 

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Hajime,” his dad said softly.

Hajime just shrugged. 

“Well, go on. Don’t let me get in your way,” his dad said after a short pause. 

Hajime nodded and fled the kitchen. He gathered up Momo’s leash and some bags in case she decided to take a dump at any point. He filled a sandwich bag with treats and stuffed a tennis ball into his pocket, then went on the hunt for the girl. He found her in the living room, sprawled out in a patch of sunlight. He crouched down beside her and ran his hand down her speckled side. Her tail thumped against the floor and she lifted her head enough to lick his wrist, but stayed where she was otherwise. 

“Hey girl, want to do something special with me?”

He shook her leash and she shot straight up. When he stood she jumped up, her white paws pressing on his midriff. He mushed her black-and-white spotted face and then moved her back to the floor. She trotted after him to the door, and he got her set up as he slipped into his shoes. 

“I’ll be back later,” he called.

He kept Momo close as they walked to the park, but once they got there he unclipped her leash from her collar and let her run wild. She did a lap and then came back. Hajime teased her with the tennis ball for a minute before throwing it. They did that for a bit until she grew interested in some of the other dogs. Hajime watched her run around and get attention from the other people in the park. He noticed Kageyama arrive out of the corner of his eye. 

“Hey,” he said once the boy was a few paces away. 

Kageyama nodded. Hajime took a good long look and couldn’t help but notice how nervous the boy looked. His hands were buried deep in his pockets and there was a furrow between his brows. His frown was a little more pronounced. Kageyama’s attention turned to the dogs running around in the open field. 

“Which one is yours?” He asked.

Hajime looked for her. “The Dalmatian, over by the running path.”

He pointed in her direction, Kageyama’s eyes following. He glanced sidelong at Kageyama. Then he whistled loud.

“Momo!”

He watched as her head snapped up from where she’d been sniffing at a runner’s shoes. She started running toward them and Kageyama shifted from foot to foot. 

“She’s nice, I promise,” he tried to reassure. 

Her tongue was peeking out of her mouth and her tail was swaying gently as she slowed to a stop in front of them. Hajime reached out for her immediately, scratching her behind the ears. She leaned against his legs, moving under his hand so he’d pet her wherever she wanted. Hajime gestured for Kageyama to come closer.

“Hold your hand out,” he instructed. 

Kageyama glanced at him quickly, hesitating before coming to stand beside Hajime. He held one hand out near Momo. She nosed at his fingers, sniffing at his knuckles, before dragging her tongue across his hand. Kageyama flinched as she did and Hajime laughed. Momo abandoned him for her new friend, circling Kageyama and butting her head against his exposed hand. He pet her gently, almost like he was afraid she would run off as soon as he touched her. She did the opposite, dropping her butt to sit at the younger boy’s feet. Her eyes closed, jaw dropping a little into the closest thing a dog could make to a smile. That seemed to encourage Kageyama. He crouched in front of her, and then sat down all the way, legs crossed in the grass. 

Hajime watched them with a smile on his face. The furrow between the boy’s brow had disappeared completely, his frown easing with each moment that passed. Fondness for Kageyama threatened to overwhelm him as he watched, quiet and amazed, as a smile slowly built on his face. He looked younger that way, carefree. Beautiful. Hajime had to stop himself from touching Kageyama’s hair as his emotions reached a high point. 

Introducing Kageyama to Momo had been a good idea. 

Eventually she stood back up. She jogged around for a minute before coming back. Hajime pet her again, a chuckle bubbling out of him when she discovered the pocket he’d hidden the dog treats in. He gave into her insistent nudging and gave her one. She ran back out into the field.

“Is she—is she old?” Kageyama asked some minutes later.

“No, she’s only four. We got her when I was in middle school.”

“I like her.”

Hajime smiled. “She likes you too, you know.”

The statement had the desired effect. Kageyama smiled again. 

They stayed at the park until Momo’s energy started to visibly diminish. He gave her another treat and hooked her back up to her leash. Kageyama smoothed his hand over her head one last time before they set out for the park’s entrance. They stopped again once they reached the sidewalk. 

Hajime hesitated before going out on a limb and said, “We should hang out again.”

Kageyama looked at him through his hair. “I’d like that, Iwaizumi-san.”

They parted ways, Hajime feeling floaty and light. It had been a good day. And more importantly, he would get to see Kageyama again.

*  *  *

As July came and went, Hajime and Kageyama had hung out more. The frequency that they saw each other grew and grew until they spent at least three nights a week doing something. There was a two week period where they didn’t see each other at all because Karasuno had gone to Tokyo for a training camp. But they texted quite often. He was excited to see what these Tokyo teams could teach Karasuno, and what the crows would be like when they next faced off across the net. He had faith that after all this time and all the practicing Kageyama had told him they’d been doing they would make it to the semifinals again. 

During those two weeks, texting Kageyama had been Hajime’s only respite at home. It was summer break and he’d made the smart move of getting all of his summer homework done at the start. Without volleyball and school to take up their time, and with Kageyama away, Hajime spent a lot of time at home. Oikawa did too. He capitalised on the fact that Hajime was unoccupied. Hajime had not had a moment alone in days.

“You’re a terrible best friend, Iwa-chan.”

“Uh huh.”

“The worst.”

“Yep.”

“Mattsun is going to take your place.”

“I’ll be sure to give him your handling instructions.”

Hajime waited for Oikawa’s next outburst when he’d been quiet a little too long. 

“I can’t believe you like Tobio-chan!” There it was. “It could have been anyone else! Refreshing-kun, the annoying libero, the captain, even Shrimpy-chan. Literally anyone else!”

“It’s payback for the horde of girls you trail around everywhere you go,” he deadpanned.

Oikawa was quiet again. Hajime continued to flip through his volleyball magazine as his desk chair rattled faintly. Oikawa climbed into the space on his left, laying his temple against Hajime’s shoulder. 

“You really like him don’t you,” he murmured. 

There was something resigned in the way he said it. When Hajime looked Oikawa was staring at the ceiling with a blank face. Hajime set the magazine aside.

“Is that such a bad thing?” He asked. 

Oikawa didn’t speak for a minute. 

“No, I suppose not. It’s still annoying, though.”

Like they shared one stream of thought, they both rolled over to face each other. 

“Tooru, are you still worried he’ll replace you somehow? He may be a great player, but experience-wise you’re still miles ahead of him.”

“How rude of you to say that about your crush, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime ignored the halfhearted attempt at teasing. 

“You’re family, Tooru. There’s no one in the world who could take your place in my life. Okay?”

Oikawa’s brown eyes went soft. There was something unsure, vulnerable, in the way he looked at Hajime’s ear instead of his eyes. They laid in silence for a time. Hajime plucked a bit of fuzz out of Oikawa’s styled hair. 

“I can’t make any promises, Hajime. I don’t like Tobio-chan, I can’t change that right now. But, if it’s for you, I’ll try.”

*  *  *

It was a little strange, being around Iwaizumi-san again. Tobio picked at the grass beside his feet as he thought about it, the sounds of the other teams occupying the punishment hill making for pleasant background noise. 

He’d been surprised when his former upperclassman had approached him at the practice match their teams had held. Honestly, he’d expected Iwaizumi to have forgotten about him. The boy’s best friend hated him, he’d always had a soft spot for Kunimi and Kindaichi who didn’t like him either. Tobio was the odd man out, so why had he even bothered saying hi? It didn’t bother him… much. Iwaizumi had always been his favourite senpai at Kitagawa. He was nice and he’d given Tobio advice on a few occasions. He’d stopped Oikawa from smacking him in the face that one time. Beyond that though, they hadn’t interacted much, and he was now on a team with all of the people who made Tobio feel small and subpar. 

He just didn’t understand. Oikawa had made it very clear that day that he didn’t approve of them talking. He’d levelled Tobio with a stare that could peel paint from a wall. Kindaichi was steadfast in his conviction that they’d never been friends, Kunimi was indifferent. Iwaizumi-san was their senpai again, they wouldn’t want Tobio infecting him like he had their third year team. Knowing all of that made it hard to look Iwaizumi in the eye. He had so many people behind him who were more than happy to be friends with him and who would have his back in a heartbeat. He didn’t need Tobio’s friendship. It was worth nothing compared to the rest of his team’s. 

That wasn’t to say that spending so much time with the third year wasn’t nice. It would just make things hurt more in the end. He knew their friendship wouldn’t last, whether because he messed it up or the others helped Iwaizumi come to his senses.

Tobio was actually kind of grateful for this training camp. He’d gotten too comfortable in Iwaizumi’s company, too used to having it. These two weeks away had helped him to pull back a bit from the feelings swarming in his chest. He was able to put a lid on the bubbling affection and happiness he felt whenever the older boy was around. He had sort of come to terms with the fact that sooner or later he would have to go back to life without Iwaizumi in it. Hopefully as the camp went on he’d get used to what that had been like again.

He sighed and looked at the sky. There were few clouds in the sky, and the ones that drifted by looked like toasted marshmallows in the light of the setting sun. He could hear Hinata talking to Lev and Kenma-san a little ways off to his right. When he glanced over the ginger and their fellow first year were having a seed spitting contest while Kenma ate his slice of watermelon calmly. Somewhere he heard Bokuto’s booming voice, Asahi’s deep chuckle. He closed his eyes, absorbing the sounds, basking in the coolness of the evening breeze. Someone sat down near him. 

He made to lay down and jumped when something firm yet squishy touched the back of his head. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, Kageyama,” Kuroo-san chuckled. “You can lay back down if you want, I don’t mind.”

Tobio hesitated. He’d seen the others on the team do the same, so he supposed it wouldn’t be that odd. Kuroo was a pain in the ass and kind of scary, but Tobio liked him quite a bit. And his bicep was defined enough to make a better pillow than the ground. He decided to just go for it, trying to quell the slight discomfort of touching someone so casually; he’d never had people to do this with until he’d met Karasuno. He was already somewhat used to Bokuto throwing his weight across his back out of nowhere.

When he’d settled his head was resting comfortably on Kuroo’s arm and his left arm was brushing slightly up against the older’s side. Kuroo was warm beside him, and despite the heat of the season, Tobio didn’t mind. 

“What’s on your mind?” Kuroo asked.

Tobio made a confused sound. 

“You seemed pretty lost in your head when I came over.”

“Oh,” Tobio said. “I was just… thinking about something.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“With you?”

“Hey!” Kuroo nudged him with his knee. “I will have you know I’m great to talk to.”

“Mmh, I guess you would have to be, if even Kenma-san keeps you around.”

Kuroo didn’t respond to that. Tobio went quiet as he mulled his thoughts over, trying to decide on what to say. Kuroo didn’t rush him, which he appreciated. Eventually he felt pretty confident that he’d found the right words.

“One of my upperclassmen from middle school wants to be friends again. We’ve been hanging out a lot. And he texts me.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah… but it’s complicated,” he muttered. Kuroo remained quiet. “His friends—don’t like me. One of them makes me nervous. I know he hates me and… I know if he asked then he’d stop spending time with me. They’ve been friends since they were kids, so his opinion matters a lot. And the others…” He sighed. “I’m just, worried, that I’m going to get in the way. Or that his friends are going to hate him too because he’s spending time with me and not them. I think, whenever we hang out, that it’s going to be the last time, when he realises I’m just wasting his time because I’ve never meant as much as his other friends do.”

Tobio’s voice got quieter and quieter as he spoke until it trailed off into nothing. The breeze drifted by, gently playing with the strands of hair laying across his forehead. Eventually, once the silence had dragged on long enough for his words to have settled into the grass, Kuroo spoke.

“Does he know any of that?” He asked.

Tobio shook his head. He’d been too afraid to voice any of what he’d been feeling to anyone, especially Iwaizumi. Part of him was convinced that if he did, the boy would confirm his fears.

“That’s a lot to feel for one little body,” Kuroo said. 

Tobio hummed. He bit his lip, paying attention to the coil that had weighed at his chest for the last few weeks. It didn’t feel quite so tight anymore, he was pleased to note. 

“It… doesn’t feel like so much anymore. This—helped, I think.”

“See?” Kuroo nudged him again, his tone brightening into something less serious. “I told you I’m great this.”

“Thank you, Kuroo-san.”

“Anytime, kid.”

Tobio stared up at the sky. He really did feel better. He usually had a hard time talking about the way he felt, but he found that doing it with Kuroo wasn’t so bad. There was something… safe about the older boy. It didn’t feel like he had to get everything out right the first time. He felt like he had the time to sit with his thoughts for a bit, parse through them, organise them in a way that he could put words to. He envied Kenma a little bit. Tobio wasn’t surprised that he’d chosen Kuroo-san to be his best friend. 

“Oi, Kuroo.” Tobio tensed a little at the sound of Daichi-san’s disapproving tone. “Get off my first year.”

“He’s laying on me, Sa’amura.”

“He’s not bothering me, Daichi-san. I think we’re friends now,” Tobio said. 

A few days later the training camp wrapped up. As the barbecue the coaches had set up started to wind down, Kuroo slipped a piece of paper into Tobio’s hand as they walked past each other. When he looked at it, he found a phone number and a short message written in slightly cramped script.

I could think of worse things than being your friend. If you ever want to talk again, my line’s always open ;)

*  *  *

The next time Hajime and Kageyama hung out, they met up at the younger’s house. Hajime had asked him if he wanted to do something a couple of days after the boy had returned from Tokyo. Kageyama had taken a lot longer than usual to answer, but when he did, he suggested they stay in for a change and watch a movie.

They were home alone, the boy’s parents gone out on a date. Kageyama had never seen Godzilla, which nearly had Hajime rethinking this whole wooing thing. Not really. He was more than happy to introduce one of his favourite things to someone who was quickly becoming one of his favourite people. Kageyama made some popcorn while Hajime got the movie set up. Once they were settled on the couch, he pressed play. No matter how many times he’d seen this movie it never got old. He could recite it line for line, could tell what part of the movie it was by sound alone, but he enjoyed it like it was the first time every time he watched it. 

Kageyama asked the odd question, or pointed out things he didn’t understand. Hajime didn’t mind explaining. 

Roughly halfway through he glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye. He chewed on the inside of his lip and moved his eyes back to the screen, thinking. He’d noticed the air of discomfort around Kageyama before. It was hard not to. He’d wondered once or twice if he was coming on too strong or something, but he hoped the boy would say something if Hajime was bothering him that much. Although, Kageyama didn’t have the best track record when it came to expressing his feelings. After another ten minutes went by and Hajime got the impression that Kageyama wanted the couch to swallow him, he decided to just bite the bullet and ask straight out. 

Kageyama shrank into a tighter ball as soon as the question was out of Hajime’s mouth. He waited for the boy to think over his answer and turned against the back of the couch to face him better. 

“I just… don’t understand why you want to be friends with me.”

Hajime almost didn’t hear him. His heart gave a painful pulse at the words coupled with the genuine confusion he could read on the boy’s face. He resolved to ignore the fact that Kageyama apparently hadn’t figured out that Hajime liked him for now and address the things Kageyama had left hidden behind his response.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked.

Kageyama looked up at him then, his eyes searching for something.

“Oikawa-san,” he said after a moment.

Hajime frowned. 

“Are you worried he’s going to be mad?”

“He hates me. You’re his best friend,” Kageyama said blankly.

“Who’s allowed to have friends other than him.” He let the statement hang for a moment. “Do you want to stop hanging out?”

Kageyama said nothing, and then shook his head. 

“What do you want to do, then?” He asked softly.

Kageyama’s brow furrowed as he met Hajime’s gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“Kageyama, I like spending time with you. These last few weeks have been a lot of fun. But the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable, so if there’s anything I can do to help make that feeling go away, just tell me and I’ll do it. I know you and Oikawa have your differences, but I want to make at least one thing clear to you that I probably should have a long time ago.” He had Kageyama’s whole attention now. He scooted a little closer. 

“I know you and Oikawa aren’t going to suddenly start getting along. I know your relationship has been rocky since the get go. I understand that, and I want you to know I have zero expectations for either of you to get over years worth feelings overnight. If you two ever find common ground it’ll be on your terms. I want you in my life though, Kageyama. If that means friends or something else, I’ll take what I can get. If you decide you’d rather I keep my distance, then I will.”

They watched the rest of the movie in silence. They started cleaning up just before eight o’clock. Hajime helped carry the garbage from their snacks into the kitchen while Kageyama took care of their dishes. 

“How about we slow things down a little bit,” he suggested. 

That was the only solution Hajime could think of at the moment, and was honestly probably the best thing he could do for Kageyama. There was a lot of emotions packed into the way he’d said Oikawa earlier. He hoped that one day he’d be willing to talk to Hajime about it, but for now the third year was fairly certain Kageyama just needed space to figure it out on his own. 

*  *  *

In light of their last hangout and the things that were revealed, Hajime decided to put his feelings for Kageyama on the back burner (as much as he could anyway) for now. Slowing things down meant seeing each other less. Hajime cut down on how much he texted Kageyama and waited for the boy to message him first now. They still talked fairly regularly, but if they saw each other in person it was only if Kageyama suggested it. 

Hajime tried his best to use his time wisely. For the moment, his goal was to be Kageyama’s friend, and if he wanted, another upperclassman he could rely on. The weeks before the spring tournament qualifiers were spent getting to know Kageyama more and letting him take the lead in when he shared things and when he asked about Hajime in return. 

His affection for the younger only seemed to grow as time went on. 

He looked at Kageyama through the lens of an underclassman again and treated him no differently than he did the first and second years on the volleyball team. Kageyama started to relax a little more whenever they did get together. He started offering up little nuggets of information and he let his attitude out more often. He was amused that Kageyama was as crass as he’d turned out to be. The first time he’d sassed Hajime had been interesting. 

Slowly, like a flower blooming under the spring sun, Kageyama opened up to him. He wasn’t so quiet anymore. He was able to look at Hajime for longer than three seconds before looking away again. His body wasn’t so tense, his scowl was more of a light frown. He was showing himself to Hajime, his previous discomfort seeming to melt away little by little.

They wished each other luck when the tournament started. Hajime could admit to himself that he was nervous for their teams to meet. He was hoping that whichever way that possible game went that it wouldn’t drive a wedge between them. It was just a high school sport, but Hajime knew how important it was to Kageyama, and he knew that when the future was still years away from calling it felt like the only thing in the world that mattered. Personally, ever since he’d started figuring out college stuff, the weight of winning had gotten a lot lighter on his shoulders. He wanted to win of course and he would do his best to make sure it happened, but he also knew that there would be something else waiting for him when it was all over, no matter how the coin dropped.

It was a hard-fought, sweaty match when Aoba Johsai and Karasuno met on the court. It almost felt like he was playing a different team. They were so different technically, so much better now. Their gruelling match at the inter-high almost felt like a warmup for this one. Hajime sucked his teeth in frustration when Kyoutani threw himself into the game too hard. He’d tried to tell the kid a hundred times that he couldn’t be so aggressive all the time, but he never listened. It was sort of a blessing though, because that gave Oikawa more ways to use the second year in a game. He made for a great decoy when he genuinely thought the ball was for sure going to come to him. 

It was somewhere in the third set that the reality of the situation dawned on Hajime. Winning or losing wasn’t the thing that mattered most to him at the end of the day. It was his team. If they lost this match, it was the last time he’d play with them. The last time he’d stand with them on the court. It was a bittersweet feeling, and one that made tears well in his eyes when Karasuno scored match point.

As they were huddling up in front of Irihata, Hajime glanced over at Karasuno. They were a black and orange heap of limbs as their libero and Hinata collided with the circle the team had gathered in, knocking them all to the floor. Laughter bubbled out of the dogpile, Kageyama’s yelling voice loudly calling Hinata a dumbass. Today marked his last game with Seijoh’s volleyball team, but looking at Kageyama and the pleased twist to his lips, he thought the loss was worth it.

*  *  *

He had a great time poking fun at Oikawa while they watched Karasuno go up against Shiratorizawa. Hajime hoped the crows crushed them. Ushiwaka pissed him off almost as much as Oikawa did. He found he liked watching Kageyama play from the stands. He could appreciate the boy’s talents more when he wasn’t trying to get around them. He watched with no small amount of pride as Kageyama and Sugawara swapped places. For someone who didn’t spike a ball regularly, Kageyama’s form was pretty solid. A smile planted itself onto his face as the setter scored, listening the confused exclamations of the people sitting in front of him. 

That’s right, he thought. Pay attention to him.

Hajime leaned back into his seat as the second set came to a close. Oikawa was prattling on about something beside him, but Hajime wasn’t listening. 

“I’m gonna ask him out. After the game,” he blurted. 

Oikawa stopped talking mid-word. Hajime could feel his best friend’s eyes boring into the side of his head. He didn’t expect Oikawa to say anything, so when he didn’t Hajime wasn’t all that bothered. However, the silence that stretched as the game progressed did nothing to help when his nerves decided to make a sudden appearance. 

He’d made the decision to confess to Kageyama in the middle of the night the night before. He hadn’t been nervous nor had he second guessed himself at all, until right now. His stomach was swimming like he was standing on the edge of a cliff and his palms were starting to sweat. 

He tried to focus on the game to distract himself. Frustration at Ushijima did the trick for a little while, and he shook his head as Shiratorizawa sent most of their tosses to the captain. They played the same way every match. It worked evidently, since they’d been top in the prefecture for years, but it was kind of a shitty way to play. You couldn’t get by on raw power alone. That’s what made Karasuno so dangerous. They had powerful players and strong tactics, but they also switched things up. They made plays that most people wouldn’t try, the risk far outweighing the reward in their minds. 

But Karasuno didn’t care about any of that. They ran synchronised attacks with no one to follow through, swapped their setters, turned their libero from a purely defensive player into someone who could lead an attack. They were damn annoying. But that was what made them fun. What made them good.

There was a proud smile on his face as the final whistle blew. The great white eagles had been stripped from their perch by a murder of unrelenting crows. Oikawa tugged at his jacket and shoved at him as the teams shook hands, forcing him to stand.

“Let’s get out of here before the award ceremony makes me sick,” he said as he continued to push Hajime toward the exit. 

Oikawa marched him out to the main doors, but didn’t urge him any farther. He chose a place that was out of the way so they wouldn’t get trampled by all the people trying to leave. Hajime watched squirrels scamper around a tree outside the window. They waited there until a mass of black club jackets filtered into the hallway. Oikawa let out a colossal sigh. 

“I suppose this is where I say goodbye to my last threads of sanity.”

“You would need to have some in the first place.”

He grinned nervously at his best friend. Though his words hadn’t really been the nicest thing to say in relation to Hajime asking Kageyama out, he knew it was Oikawa’s way of wishing him luck and he appreciated it greatly. 

“I’ll wait by the bus stop for you,” Oikawa said.

And then he was slipping out the door with the families and students. Hajime waited for Karasuno to pass where he stood, and then followed behind them. They got nearly halfway across the paved walkway that led to the main doors when he finally called out to Kageyama. 

“Could I talk to you for a minute?” He asked when the boy turned around. 

He was tense as Kageyama spoke with Sawamura. He tried to be as innocent looking as possible when the captain’s eyes landed on him. He had to stop himself from slumping when Kageyama detached from the stream of his teammates and made to join him. He waited until they were far enough away not to hear before addressing the setter. 

“Um, congratulations,” he began, wincing internally at how awkward he sounded.

“Thanks.”

He started to speak and then stopped, words suddenly failing him in the face of his confession. Kageyama’s head cocked to one side.

“Are you alright, Iwaizumi-san?” He asked.

He could feel himself starting to blush. Why was this so hard? Girls did it all the time! They made it look so easy. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I want to take you out. On a date. I like you.”

That was the wrong order to word that in. 

He wouldn’t embarrass himself by physically facepalming, so he gnawed on the inside of his cheek instead. His face flushed more and more the longer Kageyama stayed quiet. Hajime couldn’t meet the boy’s eye anymore and looked off over his shoulder. A lump swelled in his throat as a minute went by, then two. Embarrassingly, tears prickled the corner of his eyes. He looked away.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Bye, Kageyama.”

He sidestepped around the boy and legged it in the direction of the bus stop, hands deep in his pockets and shoulders bowed. He blinked hard, trying to get rid of the moisture in his eyes before Oikawa could see it. 

“Iwaizumi-san, wait!”

A hand hooked around his elbow and tugged hard. He stopped walking, but he didn’t turn around. 

“You want to go out with me?” Kageyama asked. 

“That’s usually what it means when someone asks you on a date,” he grumbled.

Kageyama’s hand clenched in his sleeve. Hajime’s jaw clenched. Kageyama’s other hand joined the first, just holding onto his arm instead of trying to make him stay in place. The boy’s head thumped against Hajime’s shoulder.

“Then… I’ll be in your care,” he whispered. 

Hajime whipped around, eyes wide and searching. Kageyama peeked up at him through his hair; his face was beet red. 

“Can I hug you?” Hajime croaked.

Kageyama nodded shyly. He tentatively wrapped his arms around the boy’s shoulders and drew him into his chest. He felt Kageyama’s arms circle around his middle, fists bunching in the back of his jacket. 

*  *  *

Tokyo, Late 2020

Hajime peeled his mask off and threw it onto his desk. He rubbed at his face, frowning momentarily at the acne spots he could feel cropping up. It was the mask’s fault; the things made him break out. He puttered around his office, finding a new, unused notepad and opening a box of pencils. The search for his clipboard turned into a hunt for buried treasure for all he could find it. It wasn’t in the usual place he kept it, and he came up empty when he checked the only other places he could think he might have left it. He turned around at the familiar sound of it clattering against his desk.

“Top of the filing cabinet.”

He glanced at the brown piece of wood, then at the grey filing cabinet across the room. When had he even been over there? He shook his head.

“Thanks,” he said.

He set to attaching his new notepad to the board and sharpened the pencil he’d pulled out. When that was done he set both items aside and addressed his visitor properly. Tobio had cut his hair sometime in the last few weeks. He thought it looked nice. He was still dressed in sweats and his windbreaker, bag hanging from one shoulder, so he must have just arrived. He took a moment to just look at the man for the first time in a while. Well, in person anyway. Covid had hit while Tobio had been back home visiting his family. He’d been forced to quarantine there until the government had given the go ahead for Olympic athletes to start training for the summer games next year before he could come back to Tokyo. 

It had been a long eight months of phone calls and FaceTime. Their bed had felt much too large without a second body to fill the empty space. 

Hajime rounded his desk to stand in front of him. He reached out, laying his hands on either side of Tobio’s waist. The younger man unhooked one of the loops of his own mask and wasted no time, gently cupping the side of Hajime’s face and drawing him into their first kiss since March. He pressed into the man’s chest. The closer positioning forced him to crane his neck at a slightly uncomfortable angle. They separated slowly, dropping chaste kisses against each other’s lips as they did. Hajime crushed Tobio into a hug, digging his face into the man’s shoulder. He kissed the side of his neck, Tobio’s hands running down the length of his back.

“Welcome home,” he whispered. 

As they pulled away from each other, a shape in the corner of Hajime’s eye caught his attention. He looked out his open office door into the hallway. Miya Atsumu stood there, jaw two inches off the floor. 

“Guys!” The blond yelled as he darted off into the gym, the word drawn out and his tone bordering on hysterical. “Tobio-kun and Iwa-san are together!”

“Well, that was one way for them to find out,” Tobio said with a shrug. 

He sighed. Both being private people, the only people who knew about their relationship was their families. And Oikawa. There’s a reason for that, Hajime thought, shaking his head as he listened to the Japanese men’s volleyball team lose their collective shit in the next room.