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The guilt is starting to drown Tobio.
It was during the Jackals vs Adlers game in Tokyo. When he first saw Hinata, the clash of his golden eyes from across the court, he could already feel the ache beginning to tear at his chest. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been playing as much as usual. Maybe it’s why when he spiked the ball, he unconsciously hit it as hard as he could towards the shock of bright orange hair on the other side of the net.
Maybe it’s why Hinata dove for it, and fell on his shoulder. And then the shrill whistle pierced the shocked silence of the court because Hinata fell, and he didn’t get up.
Tobio stood frozen as the Jackals surrounded their teammate who was making these pathetic gasping noises from where he lay sprawled out on the ground. And, before he knew it, Hinata was being helped off the court, and the refs were whispering to each other, something that sounded an awful lot like dislocated shoulder.
And Hinata didn’t get back on the court.
Maybe that’s why Tobio is standing at the door to Hinata’s hotel room. Why he’d gone straight to Atsumu after the match and asked which room the ginger was staying in. Why he bought Hinata’s favorite meat buns and held them in a grocery bag in shaking hands with white knuckles.
He doesn’t even make up his mind to knock when the door suddenly swung open and he came face to face with that uncomfortably familiar sunshine hair, golden eyes, freckled pink cheeks.
“Hey,” Hinata gasps. “I thought you’d be here. Come in.”
He turns around and walks straight to the couch, opting to sit on the floor in front of it instead of actually sitting on it. Hinata always did have a habit of sitting in the most ridiculous places.
Tobio places the meat buns on the counter and walks over to Hinata slowly. It’s like his feet are carrying themselves, a magnet pulled to the inexplicably endearing man in front of him.
Hinata is pressing an ice pack to his bad shoulder, face twisted in pain, and another pang of guilt slams into Tobio’s chest. He shouldn’t have hit so hard, at such an angle. Hell, he shouldn’t have even been spiking in the first place—he’s a setter, first and foremost. He’s not sure why things played out the way they did, only that they did, and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do about it.
They haven’t talked since high school, not for lack of trying on Hinata’s end. After that day in the storage room, he spammed Tobio’s phone for about a week straight before giving up. Sometimes Tobio still rereads the messages, if only to pretend it never happened at all.
He sits slowly next to Hinata, eyes pulled to his aching shoulder. Hinata notices. He reaches over and pulls down the sleeve of his T-shirt, revealing a mottled purple and green bruise. “I just fell on it. They fixed it and everything, but…” He looks into Tobio’s eyes with that piercing gaze he reserves for intimidating opponents. And Tobio knows he’s not talking about his shoulder. “It still hurts.”
Before Tobio realizes what he’s doing, he’s reaching over. He traces the curves of Shouyou’s shoulder with the accompaniment of a pained hiss. “No,” Shouyou whispers as Tobio’s hand jerks away in surprise. He grabs it and holds on tight. “Don’t stop.”
So he keeps on tracing, swirls and patterns and doodles of volleyballs and tangerines. Swirling over the swollen and mottled skin with the same tender fingers he uses for a gentle set.
God, how he misses setting for this man.
The wind rushing past, the flood of reassurance at his mere presence, the warmth of his smile, the telltale squeaks of his shoes against the gym floor. And the set always seemed magnetized to his hand, pulled by an unstoppable force towards this beam of light.
“I miss you.” Shouyou says it first, shattering the comfortable silence. And it all comes flooding back. All the memories of stolen kisses in the storage room, heads laying on stomachs as they stared up at the stars, volleyballs flying overhead during lunch break. He misses being Shouyou’s one and only. He misses the greedy, selfish attention of the sun.
But he can’t say it. He takes a shuddering breath, trying to work up the courage—he can’t. He can’t just admit to that. Not here, not after so long. Besides, he sees the way Atsumu looks at Hinata. He has the same longing in his eyes that Tobio had throughout high school. Who is Tobio to stop that from happening? He’s not even an ex-boyfriend. Not even an ex-lover. He’s just a partner. Nothing ever came of their burning passion for one another. Nothing ever came of it. It was all just a whirlwind of aggression and sunshine in their hormone-filled teenage years.
It never meant anything.
But God, it meant everything.
“I miss the way things used to be.” Shouyou says again. Tobio can feel the burning of his caramel eyes on his skin. But he won’t, can’t meet his eyes. His finger trembles, still, on the man’s freckled shoulder. “Don’t you?”
“I do.” The words tumble out before Tobio can stop himself. He bites his lip, hard. This isn’t what’s supposed to happen. They went their separate ways, the spark between them fizzled out, they were supposed to keep it that way. They were supposed to live their lives without being bogged down by affection and nostalgia.
Tobio realizes now that the spark never really left. And it’s impossible for him to keep living the way he was, so far from the sun that his skin froze and teeth chattered. Trying desperately to push back all his good memories, try to forget the good times so he wouldn’t miss them. He was only hurting himself.
“Why did things happen the way they did? Why did we have to let it die? After everything?” Shouyou whispers in Tobio’s ear. A shiver runs down his spine.
“I…” I was afraid. Afraid of making it real, of committing, of giving myself a label. Of being attached. Of losing you.
After all, Tobio had lost everything. His dad, his grandpa, his friends, his team. His whole life seemed to constantly shatter around him. He had been angry, resentful, desperate to control the one thing he could. And that only made his only friends hate him.
And then he met Hinata. And after the bliss and the initial inferno dulled, he felt that familiar bracing of his heart. He knew, he knew he would lose Shouyou eventually. He figured he might as well end it on his terms.
But how could he say that to this man who’s gazing at him as if he’s the whole world?
“I don’t know.” He says instead. He tastes blood on his lips.
Shouyou shifts closer, ever closer. But Tobio still wants more. And it scares him. “Tobi,” He whispers. His breath stutters and jumps. Tobio can hear his pounding heart. “I want to love you again.”
A hot tear rolls down Tobio’s cheek. He turns his face abruptly, wiping it away with a rough swipe of his wrist. “I never stopped loving you.” He chokes. He hopes Shouyou didn’t hear.
“I’m sorry.” He shoots to his feet, immediately longing for Shouyou’s comforting warmth against his skin again. He can’t bring himself to meet the man’s crestfallen eyes from where he sits. All of the sudden, Tobio feels like a king again.
Being a king is the loneliest achievement of them all.
“This was a mistake.” He forces out, fists clenched until his nails dig into his rough skin. “I never meant—I’m sorry, Hinata.”
He starts towards the door, the crushing weight of loneliness and regret and shame building with every step.
“Wait—Tobio—” Hinata sobs. It’s that day in the gym all over again, his lips swollen and heart bruised. Tobio freezes at the door. His whole body is shaking with the force of holding himself back. “Please. I just want…I just want things to be like they used to. I can’t do this anymore.”
“I’m sorry.” Tobio repeats it like a mantra in his head as the doorknob turns. He’s slipping out the door and pulling it closed behind him before he can stop himself.
And then he’s running. Down the impossibly long hallways, all the way down the stairs, shoving his way out the glass doors and into the chill of the street. And of course it’s raining.
A torrent of water splashes down on Tobio. He almost can’t tell where his tears stop and the rain begins. But he keeps running. Down the bare sidewalks, trying desperately to escape his past barreling down after him.
He stops at a street corner when it all becomes too much. It’s only then that the regret slams into him like a truck. And his mind fills with soft memories of intertwined fingers, countless what are we’s that went unanswered, delicate kisses and playful shoves. Joking insults and volleyballs pressed to the pads of his fingers and sunshine beating down on his hair and the slam of his feet against concrete, knowing without looking that Shouyou was right there beside him. He always was.
It’s stupid. It’s reckless and selfish and horrible. But Tobio realizes that he can’t do this anymore. He can’t go on running from place to place trying to escape the one thing that could keep him rooted in place. He needs to stop grabbing for control wherever he can and just let things happen.
He made a mistake. All those years ago when he’d said goodbye and never bothered to say hello again.
“Shouyou,” He whispers, barely audible over the roar of the rain. “Shouyou!” Again, louder.
And then he’s running again. Back the way he came.
Halfway to the apartment, he slams into something—someone. Someone with a shock of orange hair and impossibly beautiful honey-colored eyes.
“I’m sorry,” He shouts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was scared—scared of being stuck in one place, scared of facing everything over again—I was scared of losing you, I—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
And then he’s being tugged downwards and rough lips are meeting his. Desperate, lonely, demanding. As if it’s been years. And God, it has. It’s a hungry, desperate kiss, and he gives it everything he has.
And that hole in his chest drip-drip-drips full of liquid sunshine.
“Shouyou,” He mumbles against his clammy skin.
“Tobio.” Comes the reply.
“I wish I’d never left.”
“I left too. It’s okay.”
“No, I–” He gasps in a mouthful of rainwater, keeping his hands pressed firmly to Shouyou’s warm skin. He pulls his face away, gazing up at the overcast sky. “I left first. I didn’t want–I didn’t want to lose you, I still don’t, but after everything…” He chokes out a sob, burying his face in Shouyou’s bright curls.
There are gentle, calloused hands rubbing circles on his back, tracing patterns of rainclouds and volleyballs and tangerines. “I know.” He says, barely audibly over the roar of rain. “When I heard about your dad, your grandpa, that’s when it kind of clicked. Why you’re so controlling. Why you were so aggressive and harsh. Why you push everyone away. And I get it. I was the same, after my dad. But instead of trying to be so alone so that I wouldn’t lose anyone else, I chose something better.” He breathes a deep breath in Tobio’s chest. “I held on as hard and as long as I could. That way, when things did go bad, I wouldn’t regret anything. I wouldn’t regret letting go too soon.”
Tobio wishes he could be like that. How many friendships could’ve been saved, how many teammates could’ve gained his trust? Would he have been the tyrant king of Kitagawa? Or could he have been more like Shouyou, the ray of sunshine through the storm of pain and longing?
It doesn’t matter anymore what happened. It matters now what he’s willing to do to change it.
“But you don’t have to push me away, Tobio. I’m not going anywhere. And I know it scares you, but it scares me more to not have you in my life. To pretend it never happened. So please. Stay.”
It’s not like he ever wanted to push Shouyou away. It’s not like he ever wanted to lose him, to lose anything they had back at Karasuno. But the thought of him moving on, leaving Tobio standing in the rain, alone and desperate, scared him more than the thought of leaving on his own terms.
“What are we?” Shouyou asks quietly in the dark of the storage room. His weight shifts, and Tobio already misses the warmth.
“I dunno. Does it matter?”
Shouyou sighs. “It didn’t before. But now, yeah. We’re third years, Tobio. We’re not gonna be here forever. Are we gonna keep doing whatever this is, after we’ve gone our separate ways?” Tobio feels a pang in his chest at the words
Separate ways.
He’s been avoiding this for so long, purposefully tuning out his teachers and mom whenever they bring up the prospect of university, of moving out. Of leaving behind Karasuno, and Shouyou in the process.
He can’t hide forever.
“Can we not talk about this now?” He says, venom creeping into his words. He doesn’t mean to be rude. He just…really doesn’t want to think about this. Not here, not now. Can’t he just enjoy it and forget about the coming changes?
“When else are we going to talk about it?” Shouyou snaps back, then takes a moment to steel himself. “Look, Tobi, I know it scares you. It scares me too. But we can’t just ignore it. Are we gonna go our separate ways, or are we gonna try to make this work despite everything?”
He can almost see Shouyou’s piercing honey eyes staring through the dark. He’s not mad, not really. When he’s mad, he’s a shock of energy—all loud shouts and clenched fists and shaky legs. He’s frustrated. And maybe even a bit upset. And Tobio knows it’s with him, because he knows he’s being selfish and unreasonable, but he can’t seem to bring himself to stop.
“I don’t know, Shou. We can figure it out when it happens.” Kageyama clenches his eyes shut, trying to will it all away. Trying to will this boy back to the comfort of his chest where they lay on the mat-covered floor.
Shouyou huffs. “Look. You know I love you, and you know I love this. Whatever it is. But it’s not gonna work forever, and the only reason it works now is because we see each other every day! I mean, if we’re gonna have no labels or commitments or anything, what’s stopping either of us from drifting away, dating someone else? Am I supposed to be jealous or supportive? Am I supposed to want you or let you go?” His voice wavers towards the end and he sighs heavily. This isn’t just a hypothetical, Tobio realizes.
“Someone asked you out?” He asks.
“Yeah. And I said no, because you know I only want to be with you. But when they asked why, there was nothing I could say! I love the freedom we have, I do. But without any expectations, what was to stop me from saying yes? Would you have been mad? Would you have wanted to make this official, to make it matter?”
Tobio sits up at the last words. He wishes he could see Shouyou’s face right now. “What, so it only matters to you if it’s official? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, I–! You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Do I? Because it sure seems like it.”
“Tobio,” He hisses, exasperated. And it’s kind of scary. Shouyou never says his name like that, so full of venom. So un-Hinata that it aches. “I don’t–I love this. Really, I do. But it’s really hard to love someone so much and know that it’s not gonna last after high school. I mean, what happens if we move across the country and only see each other every few months? So much is gonna change, and we’re not gonna have anything to rein it back in with. We’re gonna be drifting until we end up never speaking again. So can’t we just set something now, make it real?”
Tobio’s jaw clenches. All this talk of “real” and “official” and “matter” is starting to piss him off. “So, what, if we don’t make it rigid then it’s not real either? Pick a side, Shou. What we have now is fine. We don’t need to change it. If we drift away, fine. It was meant to happen.”
Shouyou gasps, and Tobio regrets everything in an instant. He didn’t mean that, really. Of course he doesn’t want to drift away from Shouyou. But if staying means that everything has to change, then maybe it’s for the best.
“You don’t mean that. I know you don’t.” He doesn’t. But his jaw clenches, forcing back the words he longs to say. He can’t make commitments like this. He won’t. He’d rather lose Hinata on his own terms than get his heart broken down the line.
“Hinata–”
“Don’t call me that! I’m Shouyou, to you. And you know it. You can’t keep pushing people away because you’re afraid of getting hurt, Tobio!” He’s shouting now. At some point, a hand fisted itself in his shirt. He can feel Hinata’s warm breath on his face, his hair tickling Tobio’s nose.
“I’m not afraid.”
“Bullshit! You always do this. You always keep things loose and at a distance so you can walk away if it gets too intimate. But I know you want this! You wouldn’t be here, now, if you didn’t! Stop pretending you hate me so that it’ll be easier to leave!’
Damn it all, he’s right. He’s so right it hurts. But that doesn’t change the fact that Tobio can’t, won’t do this again. Not with Hinata.
“Then why don’t you just go find that person who asked you out and tell them you changed your mind. Because clearly you don’t want my distance, and I don’t want you to get too close.”
Hinata hisses through his teeth again. And then his lips are on Tobio’s, rough and demanding and harsh. It’s not like anything they’ve done before. Whenever Hinata kisses him it’s always soft and passionate and full of love. But now he’s angry. He’s trying to prove a point.
Tobio pushes back, wrapping his arms around Hinata’s waist roughly, trying to make it hurt. Trying to make him see. Tobio isn’t going to go down without a fight. He never has.
And then he’s standing and pushing and they’re still kissing but there’s no love behind it. It’s all a whirlwind of desperation and frustration and fury.
Hinata’s back hits the wall with a bang! A nearby shelf wobbles and topples over spilling towels and empty water bottles all over the floor. Tobio lets go, panting and staring into Hinata’s eyes. Their noses are barely touching, the tickle of Hinata’s skin against his. The thin light from underneath the storage room door illuminates his sharp irises until it’s almost like he’s staring into Tobio’s soul. Something is swirling in his stomach. Regret, maybe? But looking into those eyes, all he can feel is the heartbreak to come.
He’ll be the first to leave. He won’t get hurt.
He lets go, taking a tentative step back. And before he knows it, he’s pushing open the door and running to the gym entrance with stinging eyes.
“Wait–Tobio!”
Goodbye has such a sour taste to it, doesn’t it?
Tobio breathes in Shouyou’s warm scent as the cool rain pitters around them. “I won’t leave again. Not this time.”
Shouyou laughs. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”