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I. SLOTH.
Kenma is five feet away from Shouyou.
Shouyou, who is training with Kageyama. Shouyou, who flails his arms and bounces on his heels. Shouyou, who pumps his fist in the air when he finally gets a ball over the net.
He smiles up at his setter, all teeth and simper, but Kageyama is immune. The latter merely throws another ball in the air.
It wears Kenma out, watching Shouyou go at it again, and again, and again. He’s a man on a mission, an absolute machine. He doesn’t seem to mind that his shirt is soaked with sweat or that his orange hair is sticking out all over the place.
Kenma feels tired for Shouyou. Why is he trying so hard, Kenma thinks bitterly, when this is just training? He clutches the water bottle in his hand and contemplates offering it.
Kuroo snaps Kenma out of his reverie. “Hey,” he says, extending his hand to help Kenma stand. “Let’s go.”
When Kenma gets to his feet, he sneaks one last glance at Shouyou. He is bent over, chest heaving, hands on his knees. There it is, thinks Kenma. Shouyou had limits after all.
But then Shouyou looks up at Kageyama, eyes blazing, and proclaims, “Again!”
Kenma drops his water bottle, surprised. “Whoa,” says Kuroo. He picks up the bottle and looks at his friend with concern. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” Kenma answers, though he can’t meet Kuroo’s eyes. “Just exhausted.”
II. WRATH.
“How did it feel to win today?” Shouyou blurts out.
Kenma shuffles his feet, awkward. He doesn’t understand what Shouyou is getting at. He just wants to go home and log a couple of hours on his new console. Shouyou is the only thing standing between Kenma and his uneventful evening.
“Sort of… normal,” Kenma responds with a shrug.
Shouyou’s face falls. His expression is quickly replaced by something more resolute. “Next time… we’ll make you guys desperate!” he cries. “We’ll win, and we’ll make you say ‘I’m mad,’ or ‘That was fun,’ instead of just ‘Sort of’!”
Something momentarily flares inside of Kenma. He wasn’t enthusiastic about volleyball, sure, but that didn’t make him completely emotionless. Who was Hinata Shouyou to assume otherwise?
The memory of their first meeting crosses Kenma’s mind. I think it will be more fun if you get to like it.
A muscle ticks in Kenma’s jaw. He plasters on a smile and softly says, “Okay. I look forward to it.”
A game that will make Kenma hate or love volleyball. It’s a tall ask, he thinks, but Shouyou is free to try.
III. GLUTTONY.
Soon enough, Kenma realizes that he wants a different kind of game with Shouyou.
He catches up with him while training for the spring high preliminaries. “You’re entertaining, Shouyou,” Kenma says as they clean up the court for the day. “So I’d like to play a game with you that’s not a practice game.”
Shouyou’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Huh?”
Kenma clears his throat. “A game where it’s immediately ‘game over’ if you lose,” he says.
A wide grin breaks out on Shouyou’s face. “Let’s do it,” he says. “A match where there’s no rematch!”
It’s the first time that Kenma has wanted something this bad. His stomach burns at the thought of it. None of the games that follow satiate his hunger.
He is positively starving by the time they meet at nationals.
IV. LUST.
Shouyou flies.
Kenma watches, dumbfounded, as Shouyou snatches a point from Nekoma with a wide broad attack. It takes Kenma a moment to realize that Karasuno’s insufferable rookie duo has seen through his plan of clipping Shouyou's wings.
Because there Shouyou is— arm pulled back, eyes shifting. Shouyou aims for a blind spot and the warning catches in Kenma’s throat.
There’s a net between the two of them, but Kenma can almost trick himself that it’s not there. He had seen it all so clearly, after all.
The arc of Shouyou’s back. The sweat on his brow. The upward tug of his lip when his plan worked. It’s an image that sears into Kenma’s brain.
Their eyes meet. Kenma breaks out in to a smile so wide that his face hurts.
“Stay interesting, ‘kay?” he tells Shouyou.
V. PRIDE.
“Hey, Kenma,” Shouyou says. “I’m really grateful and all, but why’d you sponsor me?”
Kenma hums thoughtfully. They’re in his living room, discussing Shoyou’s upcoming trip. “Mmmm… who knows? I’ve got the money to spare,” Kenma says with a chuckle.
It’s a pathetic non-answer. The real answer is something like this: Kozume Kenma is sponsoring Hinata Shouyou because he is in love him. He has loved him for years now, on and off the court.
He sponsored Shouyou’s trip to Brazil in hopes that distance and time apart would change the fact. It didn’t matter. 10,000 miles in between them and Kenma still felt the same as the day he played the all-or-nothing match against Karasuno.
This hurts. This is painful, he had thought back then. I don’t want it to ever end.
It still stood true, years later, as Kenma begged and borrowed for Shouyou to look his way. Not that he ever noticed. To Shouyou, Kenma was probably nothing more than a good friend.
Kenma wondered. If he said something, would it change things?
He isn’t in the business of finding out. He’s happy to be with Shouyou, be there for him, in the little ways that he can. Even if it comes at a price, literally and figuratively.
Kenma says none of that. Instead, he warns through his teeth, “If you get boring, I’ll drop you.”
He is lying. He knows Hinata Shouyou will be interesting forever.
VI. GREED.
When Shouyou invites Kenma to training, Kenma mistakes it for a romantic advance. He’s a fool, of course. It’s just Shouyou being Shouyou.
Kenma watches from courtside as Atsumu Miya sets for Shouyou. Shouyou, who has only grown more attractive with age. Shouyou, who has the same manic gleam in his eye. Shouyou, who still flies like a crow despite being a jackal.
At one point, Shouyou jogs over to Kenma.
“What do you think?” Shouyou asks, beaming. “Am I gonna beat the Adlers or what?!”
This hurts. Kenma shakes his head. “Train harder,” he says tersely. “You’ve still got some way to go.”
Shouyou is in the middle of a biting remark when Miya comes up to them. “Kozume Kenma, right?” the twin says in greeting. “Nekoma’s brain and heart.”
“That was a lifetime ago,” Kenma says with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Still. You were their setter,” Miya says. “Wanna set for Shouyou a bit?”
Shouyou brightens at the idea. “Oh, won’t you, Kenma?”
Jesus Christ, Kenma thinks. He shouldn’t have come today. He shouldn’t have put himself in this position.
Truth be told, Kenma would have killed to set for Shouyou. He just didn’t think his heart could take it. Selfishly, he wanted to be the only person worth Shouyou’s effort. He wanted to believe he was still Shouyou’s nemesis, still the cat trying to catch the crow. Better his rival than nothing at all.
Kenma feels like the world’s biggest asshole when he chokes out, “No, thanks. I don’t like getting tired.” This is painful.
Miya looks confused, but Shouyou smiles understandingly. “I’ll get you next time!” Shouyou teases before turning to Miya.
“Come on,” Shouyou tells his setter. “My sponsor says I have to train harder.”
The two head back onto the hard court. Shouyou doesn’t even spare Kenma a glance.
I don’t want it to ever end.
VII. ENVY.
Kenma is still five feet away from Shouyou.
