Chapter Text
The air at the beginning of the match had a crispness to it that made my hands too smooth. But by the end of the first set, the sweat and moisture in the air from perspiration would make them too slippery.
This didn’t make much of a difference to a libero or a spiker, but for tossing a ball having the right grip and traction on your fingertips was imperative.
Keeping my hands in the pockets of my uniform shorts for around 3 minutes—not a minute longer or they would begin to sweat—would put them at the perfect temperature.
I had already checked and filed my nails before setting foot on the court and my hair was still at an acceptable length. Shoelaces were double tied…Everything was in order. I awaited the whistle that marked the start of the match.
Just as that whistle pierced the air, a blur of orange in the distance caught the corner of my eye. In that fraction of a second, my neck snapped and cramped as it was caught between wanting to do a double-take and follow the ball that was now flying over my head. I positioned myself below the ball just in time to send it towards the right-wing spiker, but the second I had wasted had caused it to be slightly short. The spiker sent the ball over without trouble, and the extra half of a second I used to spare the coach a glance indicated that he hadn’t noticed anything off about my performance, either. Still, my heartbeat accelerated.
A trick of the eye, it’s probably what I had seen. That’s what I told myself. There was no reason for him to be there… But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be there.
I shook my head and made collapse the trail of thoughts that was beginning to make its way into my brain.
My small distraction hadn’t cost us the point, but I was left feeling agitated. It wasn’t how I liked to start off a match.
The whistle screeched again marking the point and I was grateful for a second to compose myself. I forced my eyes off the crowd. I couldn’t trust myself to keep calm if I saw him, not after the way I had reacted to the mere thought of him.
I followed the motion of the server across the court as he threw the ball up and followed through with a jump. As the ball zoomed across the net I felt myself fall back into the game.
I managed to play the rest of the set as usual. The orange blur from before had practically been forgotten by the time we scored the second-to-last point. There could be nothing else to focus on other than winning the set. I dabbed the sweat off my face by lifting the bottom hem of my shirt and a shrill from the crowd went up immediately. I heard my name be called a few times. I didn't look up, I was used to it.
The teammate beside me gave me a side glance as he wiped his own sweat with the back of his palm.
“Bro, you don’t need to show off every time you get sweaty.” He said as the screams died off.
“He’s sponsored to do that, you know.” Kuroo looked over his shoulder with a smirk, his hands on his hips.
“You’re kidding.”
I stayed silent. There was no need to lock horns when I could simply avoid tossing to him. Bokuto was always more than happy to advance in his place if I called for it.
The whistle rang once more. Everyone’s knees and arms anticipated the next move. My sweat-free hands itched for the ball.
When the stadium filled with the cheers of the last point, my grin-plastered face jerked towards the crowd. My eyes scanned the seats, but I did not see the blotch of vibrant orange I was looking for. I didn’t notice that my smile had faded until a teammate hooked his arm around my neck.
“I know you have limited emotions, but cheer up! We won!” My head wobbled with his force.
Again, I heard my name being screamed from the seats.
The teammate from earlier laughed sourly, “Did they all come just to see him?”
“Excuse me?” Oikawa walked in with a hand behind his ear. “The girls came for me ,” He pointed broadly toward the giant banner with his name on it and the group of cheering girls behind it. “The men, though—“
My face reddened, but Bokuto took the attention away by being his loud and boisterous self. “Hey hey hey! How about, ‘ Awesome! We filled the stadium?!’”
I was thankful to him for shutting the others up. Moreover, he was right, more views and visitors always meant bigger sponsors willing to pay. And getting paid was nice.
The group nodded and walked away from the court, still giddy from their victory. Even the ones who had grumbled just a minute earlier left with a chirp in their stride, as if it hadn't been a big deal after all.
I went straight to take a hot shower after a group talk with the coach. There were times when I welcomed the burn of the shower stream on my muscles. And those times where when I would rather let the smoulder take up my brainspace rather than my other thoughts. This time though, it wasn't working.
Despite wanting to celebrate our win, my mind kept skipping back to the orange blur. I couldn't shake it.
But that thing I had seen, it could have been anything, really. An athletic bag or something. I don’t know why I was so sure that it had been him. I hadn’t seen him in forever. Maybe I was just hoping...
…Anyways, winning this friendly match against Italy did not bring us closer to ranking for the Olympics—which were in a little over a year—but it did give the coach reassurance to keep the current lineup, and more importantly, to trust me as a setter. Especially with Oikawa stepping hot on my heels. The coach had been rotating me with him over the last couple of matches to see who would stay in the final lineup, so I couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.
Oikawa had the advantage, already having been in the official lineup at the previous Olympics. But I had shown my worth as a setter when he had been switched out momentarily.
This win was good for me. We would be playing against Italy again for real when the OQTs began in two months. If we qualified for those, we would make it into the Olympics again.
We were going to play against Italy once more the next day with a lineup change, so I was going to be sitting out to watch. I didn’t want to wish evil on others, but I hoped Oikawa flunked some tosses. I was not going to warm a bench at another Olympics.
As I got out of the shower I heard some teammates talking about going out to eat. My stomach rumbled upon hearing about food.
On the other side of the locker room, there was a commotion going on. A group was huddled around, chattering ecstatically.
I ignored my stomach pain and walked over to the loud group, drying my damp hair with a towel as I neared. They noticed me approaching and said my name with excitement as they stepped back to allow me. And in the middle of their circle stood a man which I had not seen since high school. My breath hitched.
The orange blur...
“Hinata?” His name spilled out of my mouth.
Hinata Shouyou wore a smile he seemed to already have prior to me arriving. Some guys were ruffling his hair and Bokuto had him in an armhold from behind.
Their heads perked up upon hearing my voice. Hinata's eyes glanced at me, then did a double-take and widened. His expression changed entirely.
Bokuto gave him a push and suddenly Hinata was stumbling my way. I felt strong arms tightly wrapping around my waist first, then the laughs of the others.
The towel was stuck to my hair. And my hand was stuck to the towel.
“Jesus, hug him back, Kageyama!”
My brain somehow just followed the orders.
A second later everyone rushed to join in on the hug. Hinata’s cheek got mushed against my chest. His laugh reverberated inside my ribcage.
The pressure of bodies dissipated and I was left alone with Hinata right in front of me.
"Hey," He said with a soft chuckle from his throat.
My head dropped and all of the sudden my eyes were locked on him.
The world slowed as I analyzed him. The man whose face I had not seen in nearly four years, yet appeared frequently behind my lids at night.
Same but different.
The edges of his face had been deprived of the teenage roundness it once had. His once slim arms were now carved with swollen muscles, his shirt fit tightly over his broader chest and his wild flaming orange hair had been cropped down into a fluffy field. It still spiked out in every direction but the fire had been reduced to a dimmer flame full of curls. And there were the freckles, a field of tan skin peppered with them.
Hinata’s lips moved but I forgot to listen.
“Huh?”
“You hungry?” Hinata asked again. “I heard your tummy growl.”
Even his voice had a new deeper rasp to it. I was trying to adjust to the new one when—
“We’ll be heading off now!” Kuroo waved from behind Hinata. The rest of the group began to shuffle out of the room like sheep being herded.
“You guys don’t want to go eat somewhere?” Hinata called after them.
“Nah, we’re very tired. We’ll be heading off.” Kuroo pushed the remaining teammates along.
Hinata turned to me. “Seems like you’re stuck with me, then.” He took hold of my wrist. “I’m dying for some udon!”
– – –
“—I wanted to see the match! But I totally passed out as soon as I sat on the bench. I have crazy bad jet lag.” Hinata chewed on the thick udon noodles as he introduced a large piece of carrot tempura into his mouth.
He was facing me, we were sitting in a booth so small our knees brushed occasionally.
We had ordered two extra plates of tempura mix to go with the udon. I had already attacked all of the sweet potatoes.
“So you landed this morning? You came straight from Brazil?”
“Yep. I’m staying at Yamaguchi’s for tonight and I’m visiting my family back in Miyagi tomorrow. I haven’t seen them in two years.” Hinata brought the bowl to his lips and his face was lost.
I had already finished my own soup, but Hinata was the same chatterbox he'd been before he left.
I had things to tell him as well, but my eyes were fascinated with watching his movements as he spoke. And my ears were enthralled listening to his words.
A moment came when he decided to concentrate on his plate.
“I haven’t seen you since you left,” I said.
Hinata’s head snapped up. “I know! I can’t believe we’ve missed each other. Twice.”
“The first time was at the Olympics.”
Hinata popped crumbs of tempura into his mouth. “And the second time when I came to visit you were gone competing in the U.S.”
“I think I came back the day you left,” I said regrettably.
“Hey, it doesn’t matter. We’re here now! At the same place, at the same time!” Hinata flashed a broad smile that took up most of his face. “It’s so good to see you!”
A tingle crawled up my arms. “It’s—it’s good to see you too.”
Hinata’s eyes warmed and they made my cheeks heat up. I wished they didn't have that effect on me.
“Are you going to eat the lotus root?” Hinata licked his lips as he pointed with his chopsticks at my tempura plate.
“In exchange for the onion?”
“Deal.”
We munched in unison until Hinata kicked his head back with a smile and half a cheek full, “I really missed these flavours!”
“I really missed you.” I blurted out and immediately prayed he hadn’t heard me over his chewing. But Hinata swallowed and his eyes locked with mine.
“Do you wanna toss for me?”
My fingertips prickled.
– – –
Four minutes away from my apartment building there was a cracked cement basketball court turned volleyball court. The net hung sadly over two poles with a few holes in it but otherwise, the height was good enough and it did the job.
The light from the posts dimly lit our surroundings. Most of the plants surrounding the court were dried up, getting a head start before fall.
I had gone to pick up a ball at my place after deciding that the free ball near the bushes looked more like a deflated triangle and we did a bit of stretching and warm-ups until we were good for more serious plays.
“What do you want to do?” I asked Hinata. My hands itched to throw him a quick, but maybe he wanted to start with something more tame.
“Give me a quick.” Hinata licked his lips as he bent into position.
My mouth cracked into a grin. Hinata wasted no time and threw the ball above my head. The debris of the cement crackled beneath his shoes, a whirlwind trailed behind him as he leaped above the net. His entire body arched back, the ball I had pushed his way made a satisfying smack with his palm for a fraction of a second before it was slammed against the concrete all in the blink of an eye.
Hinata’s feet hit the ground with a crunch.
My heart slammed against my ribcage.
He looked at me, eyes glittering but full of thrill at the same time.
“How about something more challenging?” He huffed.
– – –
Sweat dribbling down our chins and backs, we climbed the stairs of my building until we made it to my door. The volleyball underneath my arm was dusty and scratched, and our breaths were the only thing being heard.
“The shower is over there,” I panted as I pointed to the door on the right.
“‘Kay, thanks.”
The sound of rush-and-splattering water played in the background while I rummaged through my cabinets in search of something for Hinata to change into.
We had been at the park court for almost two hours. And even in the debris-filled, slippery cement floor, Hinata had managed to pull out some incredible spikes. He hadn’t even worn volleyball shoes.
Hinata’s moves felt sturdier than they had four years ago, they were more powerful.
Every motion seemed to have an intention behind it. His body wasn’t moving purely on instinct anymore. With a mere glance, you could tell there was tactic. His spikes were those worthy of an Olympic player. Of an Ace.
Those were qualities that were expected from any spiker in an Olympic team. But something that Hinata had not lost with his bigger physique was his speed. He ran after the ball before a normal eye could even tell its direction. He jumped into the sky as if he weighed nothing more than a few particles. I had always admired and trusted those skills. Now he truly was the full package. And it was fascinating.
My abilities and tricks in setting the ball seemed endless with a tool like him. I felt like there were no limits. I didn’t have to conform to the way the spiker wanted to spike. Hinata went to where I wanted him to go. He jumped as high and fast as I wished. I had missed it so much.
Hinata came out of the bathroom with steam curling behind him and a wet towel bunched up in his arms.
“Thanks, these fit fine!” He showed me his borrowed outfit.
The bottom of my grey sweatpants mopped the floor as he walked, but at least the t-shirt fit regularly on him. His damp hair was flattened into dark curls.
I used the shower after him, and when I came out I found Hinata investigating my shelves. He turned to look at me with amusement.
“How do you have these?!” He showed me a stack of magazines, newspapers and flyers that I had lying on a middle shelf. On the cover of a folded newspaper a picture of Hinata celebrated alongside his teammates their victory of classifying into the Olympics.
…I had forgotten about those. Well, I had forgotten about putting those away .
Blood rushed to my face.
I attempted to keep my tone casual. My neck suddenly got itchy. “I stumbled upon your mom a few years ago when I was visiting home and she gave me the first one.” I had given her my address that day. “She sends me a new one whenever you’re on it. Brazilian news doesn’t always reach us up here.”
Hinata’s ears turned bright red. “I send her a bunch of copies through mail…”
I walked over to my collection and took one from the bunch. “I got this one myself, though.”
The front cover of the sports magazine featured the Brazilian volleyball team, poised and ready to attack, looking up at the ball. The shot was at an extremely low angle, where the shoe brand ASICS was clearly visible. In the center, Hinata was suspended in the air, just seconds away from hitting the ball.
“It’s a Japanese brand so I managed to get it,” I explained. “I’m sponsored by Mizuno so I shouldn’t be seen with this.” I cracked a smile as I put it back on a top shelf alongside the rest of Hinata’s achievements as if putting it away would make him forget what he had seen.
The corner of Hinata’s lip curled.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” I admitted.
“I’m flattered.”
Hinata began to poke around my shelves again so I took him by the shoulders and turned him around. “Okay, that’s enough of that.”
His phone dinged with a notification and I was grateful for the distraction when he pulled it out of his back pocket as I kept leading him away to a less embarrassing corner of the apartment.
Hinata grounded his feet and I bumped against him, unable to push him further.
“Ya-chan is asking where I am. I should probably head home before the trains stop running.” Hinata didn’t look away from his phone.
My chest twisted. It was too soon.
“And you’re leaving to see your family tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” He looked at me with round brown eyes.
My heart pounded, “Will you be coming back?”
“I could…I could stop by again. I need to return your clothes, so…”
My eyes danced towards anything that wasn’t his face. “We could… try out a few more spike combos…”
Hinata spoke over my words, “Let’s play some more volleyball next time!” He chuckled after realizing we had both thought of volleyball at the same time.
“Awesome,” We both said again in unison. This time a small laugh escaped me as well.
I accompanied him to the entrance of the train station, which was only a 5-minute walk. On the way there, Hinata spoke enthusiastically about his teammates back in Brazil. He gushed over the warm sea, his favourite spots to play beach volleyball and how much his Bralizian had improved. It was always impressive how many topics he could fit into such a limited timeframe. I was enjoying the moment so much, I unconsciously tapped my train card and followed him all the way to the platform.
“—I just wanted coconut juice! So I kept pointing and saying ‘Coco, coco’! Turns out I was just saying I wanted poop, poop– oh ! The train is here!”
My laugh was cut short as if the train rushing past us had sucked the air out of my lungs. And even though I was standing at the platform, I had somehow forgotten I was there to say goodbye.
Hinata hopped onto the train. He turned around and we looked at each other.
The doors would close at any moment. My mouth was open but I forgot what I wanted to say.
“See ya soon, Kageyama.” He smiled.
I waved as the doors slid shut.
—-
Six days went by excruciatingly slow. I didn’t even hear a word from him until the day before I saw him again. I waited for him at the same train stop I had last seen him at.
An orange blur caught the corner of my eye. My head jolted to the side.
Hinata stopped in his tracks and tsked at me with a simper on his face. “Is it impossible to sneak up on ya?”
“I have good parallel vision.”
“Must be a setter thing.”
Hinata was wearing another shirt that tightly wrapped his body. A hoodie was tied around the waist of his black shorts that ended just a few inches above his knees. He sported baby blue ASICS sneakers, which matched with his sports bag that he carried over one shoulder.
My eyes drifted back to his chest. Did he grow into his shirts or did he purposely buy them to fit him like that? Either way, he looked—
“Are you checking me out, Kageyama?” Hinata smirked, but his ears blazed blazed pink.
“What?! Why would I do that, dumbass?” I snapped, but I froze into stone immediately as I watched Hinata flinch.
Hinata poked me roughly in the stomach with his index finger.
“I was wondering where that side of you had gone.” He said as he walked past me.
I watched the nape of his neck, the bulge of his trapezius melding into his collar. I still felt the sting from his jab.
Hinata slowed and looked at me over his shoulder.
It was like his grin could shoot pin needles into my heart.
It was almost painful to move. Painful because my chest ached. It ached a constant pain from how hard my heartstrings pulled me towards him. And it had not stopped since the moment I saw him for the first time again.
I might have tried to push it down over the years, but my body remembered how much I pined for him. The feeling was just as strong as it had been before,
Had I not wondered what having him in my arms would feel like for years after he was gone? Had I not longed for his company, yearned for his lips since the day he had left for Brazil? I lusted after every picture I saw of him, watched on repeat all of his interviews... and now he was here again.
But not here to stay.
I followed him anyway.
Even though this was the area where I lived, Hinata led the way, as if he had been the one who had picked me up.
“Did you have a good time with your family?” I asked, thankful that I’d managed to ask a question which was neither an attack nor a nervous sputter.
“I did.” Hinata smiled warmly, and then threw his arms up in a tantrum, “But can you believe Natsu is almost as tall as me now?! Where did she even get those genes from? I mean, I know girls have a growth spurt at a younger age but that is just unfair!” He sulked into a pouty expression for about three steps and then his brows un-furrowed, “She’s a very good libero though. But her big bro still taught her some Olympic moves.” He boasted, with his chest puffed out and a closed-lip grin that carved dimples into his cheeks.
“What’s an Olympic move?” I sniggered.
“It just sounds cooler that way, okay?”
“It does,” I admitted, wishing my older sister cared enough about volleyball to be impressed with my Olympic moves.
We reached the concrete court. An hour and a half remained before sundown. I spun the ball in between my palms as Hinata set down his bag on a bench and tightened his shoelaces.
“I brought proper shoes today.” He grinned wickedly.
“Nothing my Mizuno’s can’t do.” I stretched back my leg just to add an extra emphasis to the logo on my sneakers.
“Shut up, you Mizuno kiss ass.”
"How about you show me those Olympic moves?"
– – –
When the streetlights flickered alive and the net was getting hard to discern in the darkness, Hinata had the brilliant idea to shout, “First to the top gets the shower!”
I had no real desire to be the first in the shower, but watching Hinata sprint away at full speed unlocked an old-forgotten rivalry in me. What had we left off at in high school? 405-ish to 390-something? It didn’t matter, my legs were already pushing me down the street one after another. Hinata reached the staircase just as I entered the building.
I was gonna have to play dirty to win this. But hey, he had had a head start. I caught the back of his t-shirt but he held on to the railing. I used him to propel myself as he shouted—already out of breath—“Hey! That’s cheating!”
“Don’t talk to me about cheating!” I caught up with him. We leaped up the stairs side by side, pushing shoulders. And just as soon I saw the door to my apartment, Hinata stepped on my foot and I lost a precious second. He landed on the final step and slowed down, but little did he know that the finish line is when you touch the door. Didn’t you know that Hinata?
I leaped over the last 4 steps and my momentum caused me to crash against him. I put my arms out to brace myself for the impact and we slammed against the door.
“I…” I panted. “I touched the door first.”
“Well, I… reached… the top first, dumbass.” Hinata’s chest heaved.
I was too out of breath to make my entire argument about how that’s not how the rules I made up went. I shut my eyes and tried to catch my breath.
“Uhm… Kageyama…” I opened them again. Hinata still breathed heavily. “You’re pinning me.”
It took me a second to comprehend, but then I noticed my arms on either side of Hinata and our faces incredibly close together. My blood went cold.
“I just—I wanted to get the door…” I felt around the wall behind Hinata’s arm until my hand was enclosed around the knob. I twisted it. It was locked.
“Uhh… gimme a sec…” I said as I used that same hand to rummage around my pocket for the key.
I could feel Hinata’s eyes on me the entire time. The key sunk into the keyhole and we fell through the frame after the twist.
Hinata stabilized himself before falling, I held on to the doorframe with the hand that had been pressing onto the wall.
I noticed the back of Hinata’s neck appeared to have gotten sunburnt, though I recall the sun had been pretty tame when we had been outside.
“I’m gonna— I’m gonna get the shower first.” The rest of his face was painted the same shade. He disappeared behind the bathroom door.
“Do you need a change of clothes?” I called after him.
“I brought my own this time!” The door slammed shut, followed by a muffled apology.
– – –
Somehow after coming out of the shower, my hair still damp and separated into thicker strands, I found myself laying on my back shoulder to shoulder with Hinata on my bed. Our legs were bent over the bottom edge and my feet touched the ground, Hinata’s hung just above. He waggled his suspended legs.
We stared at the ceiling and talked. I counted the smudges and scuff marks I had made with my volleyball over the last 4 years in this apartment. It was funny, I had made some of them in this same position while thinking about him.
My hands cupped the back of my head, which pulled my t-shirt over my stomach. I felt delicate goosebumps on the exposed skin of my abdomen.
“Hey Kageyama, do you buy loose shorts on purpose or did you lose weight?” Hinata’s question suddenly brushed my right ear.
It took me a moment to register the question. I was still on the topic of which convenience store had the best curry bread.
I turned my head his way to find him looking directly at my waist. Suddenly my naked belly felt overexposed.
“They just fit like that, I guess.”
“There’s um…” Hinata swallowed. “A rumour that Mizuno, uh… makes you show your underwear during a match…”
My hands left the back of my head and they pulled my shirt over my briefs that were peeping out from under my shorts.
“Where… Where would you hear that?”
“TikTok.” Hinata’s eyes finally peeled away from my lower regions and rolled up to the ceiling. “There’s um… a lot of thirst traps of you.”
I covered my face with both hands. Ughh, this couldn’t be happening.
“First of all, they’re athletic briefs ,” I said to my hands. “Secondly, Mizuno does not force me to show my briefs. They just...highly encourage it…” I mumbled the latter part. “And lastly, just how did you find those videos?”
“You kinda blew up on VolleyTok,” Hinata replied. I raised a finger to catch a glimpse of him. His hands were over his stomach and he was still looking up.
“I had no consent over that, you know.”
I could hear Hinata’s smile through his voice. “I know… but… they’re pretty good.”
I groaned, but my face heated up from underneath my palms. Those videos were just compilation clips of me during matches where I lifted my shirt to wipe the sweat off my face.
“The one where you’re biting the hem of your shirt is crazyyy.” Hinata’s chuckle made the bed tremble.
“I was just putting on muscle bandages!” My palms left my face to slap the bed. In the sudden brightness, my eyes caught Hinata smiling in my direction. His grin brought chills down my arms.
“But that editing is crazy good…”
I rolled into a fetal position, images of the dozens of videos stitched to lewd music tracks sprouted from behind my lids.
“Oh c’mon, Kageyama!” Hinata giggled, then forced his voice to sound more serious. “Accept that you look hot when you’re sweaty and that people are thirsting over your abs! There are guys out here wishing for that type of genes.”
I heard a stiff drumming sound, I imagined Hinata was punching his abs. “Besides, didn’t that video blowing up actually land you that sponsorship with Mizuno in the first place? They know what the people want!” He pulled on my shoulder and turned me over on my back again.
I sat up quickly, words on my tongue ready to come out like fire.
“You dumbass, you also look hot when—! When..."
My muscles paralyzed into stone. He was looking straight at me with round eyes yet I prayed he hadn’t heard.
“—I mean, um, I just wanted to say that you— that you don’t have to be jealous.”
Hinata didn’t even blink. I threw myself back onto the bed in exasperation. The mattress bounced with my effort.
“I know you’re just trying to keep your hands dry,” The mattress creaked in reply as Hinata lay sideways. “It’s why you wipe your face with your shirt like that.”
I looked down at him, my lashes obscuring half my vision. “How do you know?”
“You’ve always done it. At least when you don’t have access to a towel.” Hinata’s eyes glanced up at me. Both his hands were sandwiched underneath the side of his head. “…Which is like, most of the time, unless the coach calls for a break.”
I didn’t reply. Somehow Hinata’s words and tone had soothed and loosed my muscles. I continued to gaze at him. I thought about the caramel colour of his eyes.
“You haven’t mentioned your boyfriend.” I blurted out. It had been on my mind, I hadn’t realized how loud it was.
Hinata nudged up an inch. “You mean my ex.”
“…The other one…?”
“My other ex?”
“You’ve had two?” Thinking back on it, I might not have realized that they were two different people in the pictures I had seen. I didn’t follow Instagram much, but when Hinata posted something, I was sure to hear about it in the locker room.
The first time had been about a year after he left, Kuroo and Bokuto were huddled over a phone, arguing. I had entered the room midway through the conversation and had had no clue what they were talking about or looking at.
“That’s a manly hand, for sure.” I overheard Kuroo say.
“Could be, but look at the nails. They’re too pretty.” Bokuto pointed at the phone.
“They’re a gay guy’s hands.” His tone made me picture Kuroo rolling his eyes.
Bokuto shoved the back of his hand into Kuroo’s face. “Look at my gay hands!” From experience, I knew his nails were chewed up and fat.
Kuroo ignored him. “He tagged the person in the photo, let’s just see their profile… Aaand it’s empty. Seriously, who keeps their profile like that?!”
“That looks like a guy's profile picture,” Bokuto commented.
“It’s a picture of a frog with a mustache and a ukelele.”
“It’s giving guy vibes!”
The opening of my locker caught their attention and both boys turned their heads to see behind themselves.
Kuroo gave me a strange expression when his eyes found me, but Bokuto ushered me over.
“Kageyama, does this look like a man’s hand or a woman’s hand to you?” He put the phone right up in my face.
The knuckles gave it away for me. “A man’s hand,” I said without hesitation, then wondered what the heck I was doing.
“See? Told ya.” Kuroo snatched the phone away, a little aggressively.
It hit me that I hadn’t even processed the contents of the photo, but the after-image had been captured in my head. I had seen a down-shot of two hands with their fingers entwined.
My eyebrows ticked. “Hey… wait a sec.” I leaned over. “Is the other hand… Hinata’s hand?” I made a move to grab the phone but Kuroo jerked it away.
“How could you recognize Hinata’s hand from a photo?” Kuroo asked as if I had offended him.
“I used to cut his nails,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Holy shit, Hinata just posted another Story! Swipe, swipe !” Bokuto shook Kuroo’s shoulders with urgency. I managed to nudge my head between theirs before they blocked me out.
Kuroo gave me another weird look that I couldn’t discern before turning back to his phone and swiping.
Hinata popped up on the screen. His head was craned to the side, planting a kiss on the cheek of a man whose jawline and neck were only visible. After what seemed like a mere second, the image swiped by itself to some other rando’s Story.
“Wait! Swipe back!” Bokuto and I demanded at the same time.
Kuroo did as he was told. This second time, I caught more details in the photo. Like Hinata’s gentle smile, the happiness on his face, and the 5 o’clock shadow on the other guy’s jaw.
“That’s definitely a guy’s jaw.” Bokuto pointed.
“We know.” Kuroo and I told him.
I retreated, feeling a cold wave wash over me as the realization hit me. Kuroo turned and this time the expression he gave me I could understand. I felt an urgency to escape the room.
And that’s how I found out about Hinata’s first boyfriend. And that he was gay. And out. And happy. With a guy. In Brazil. Far away.
I didn’t know much about it, honestly. I didn’t use Instagram much. I just checked it every once in a while. You know, just to see if the guy had accidentally died or something. But I didn’t check it enough to know… I didn’t go on Instagram much… I wasn’t really aware of his happenings. I just knew they sometimes went and watched the sunset at the beach together. And by sometimes, I meant like every single darn time the sun said goodbye. Seriously, did you have to post every one?
“Yes, Kageyama, I have two exes. Don’t remind me about it.” I snapped back to the present. Hinata curved himself more into a ball beside me. For some reason, my mood quickly improved.
There was silence for a minute, then Hinata filled it. “Sooo… you came out…”
I guess I had been drifting away again because my head snapped to the side with a ‘huh?’
Hinata squirmed in the bed. “You’re gay.”
My stomach turned to molten lava. “I, um—I mean… Yes.”
“I saw it on Mizuno’s website.”
I bit my lower lip. Hinata had seen that, too?
“I also saw the athletic briefs photo shoot.” Hinata failed to contain his grin.
I groaned again and made to turn to my side but Hinata pulled me back. “Don’t be embarrassed, you made them sell out in Brazil. I couldn’t even find them in stores.”
This time, Hinata’s reassurance wasn’t sinking in.
In the first TikTok video that had gone viral, I had been wearing Mizuno branded underwear, for no other reason other than it was the type I’ve always used.
But Mizuno had been quick to notice the video and ask me for a sponsorship deal after watching how fast the number of views was growing. They also wanted me to pose for a photoshoot with their new line of athletic briefs, where I wore nothing more than…briefs…
I couldn’t deny their hefty offer, and it had happened so quickly I hadn’t even been made aware of the videos. I ended up adding more fuel to the fire. The photo shoot brought even more attention to the videos, and more content.
I assumed that after a while, the clips would be forgotten in the vast ocean of social media, but instead, fans began showing up at our matches—even unofficial matches—and began recording more videos of me. Mizuno had no trouble noticing their popularity being connected to the number of times their brand popped up every time I lifted my shirt. They kept sending me more products.
I felt uncomfortable with the attention. I felt like my every move was being watched by the hungry eyes of unknown people. I didn’t know how to cope with it.
I had noticed that the fans were mainly female, so in an interview with Mizuno I decided to come out. I figured that that would put a stop to it.
It had not. Mizuno was thrilled. They didn’t just have popularity, their briefs were actually getting sold out. They put my ‘coming out’ announcement at the front of their page, next to the pictures of my photoshoot. At matches, the benches filled up with even more fans. Unsurprisingly, more male fans.
I decided to try and ignore it all. I had heard that fans liked attention. They would get bored if I showed no interest.
After a while, I realized that my approach wasn’t going to work, but at least I wasn’t as affected by it anymore. Somehow, after months, I had gotten used to it.
Sometimes, I thought I had messed it all up. Sometimes, I thought I regretted it. But I didn’t. I hadn’t only come out of the closet to get rid of the female fans. It had been something I had buried in my chest for years, unspoken for the sole reason of having no reason to share it, and it felt nice to share it.
I had thought of Hinata, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek, happiness radiating from him. I wanted that.
My chest un-tightened.
“I can ask Mizuno for a pair if you want them,” I told Hinata.
Hinata was still curled to the side facing me. He looked small.
“Thanks, but… it’s okay. I just wanted the photoshoot poster that came with it.” His cheeks flushed into dark crimson, yet he did not peel his eyes away.
“Oh.”
There are skills that make a good setter. One of them is being able to know what your teammates desire without speaking a word, without even a hand signal. I could read Hinata's eyes quite clearly on the court. I could tell when he was starved for a toss. There wasn't a ball in the air, but Hinata's eyes expressed that same intensity to me.
“Kageyama,” Hinata sat up abruptly. The tension in the air dissolved just like that. I followed him, dazed, like I had inhaled too much of that thick tension and gotten drunk on it. “I— I have to go… Before I do something stupid—“ Hinata made to stand up.
I caught his face with both my hands and kissed him.
His eyes widened, mine closed.
“What’s something stupid?” I panted.
“Never mind.” He gasped and took my lips again.
I pressed and opened his mouth. I wasn't sure of what I was doing, it just felt right. This just felt right— in every way. Hinata reciprocated the feeling with the rolling of his lips, with the pur of his body underneath my fingertips and with his arms, pulling me in by my neck.
Our knees got caught in between us. I pushed him onto the bed. I had done this in my head before, in my dreams— but the details, I could have never imagined them. The subtle quaver of his exhale and the tugging— of my lower lip, the collar of my shirt, the skin of my shoulder blade — urging me closer. I knew what I had wanted (this) all these years, but I hadn't imagined it going both ways.
“Kageyama, is this really happening?” His chestnut eyes glimmered.
It was hard to breathe steadily. “I’m trying to process the same thing.” My voice had a hoarse rasp to it.
“You’re my best friend from high school.” He told me, as if I didn’t already know.
“You’re the first person I ever had feelings for,” I said. My dark hair tickled his forehead.
The corner of Hinata’s lip twitched. “One Valentine’s Day morning, you came up to me red in the face, holding a pink letter. Ugh, my heart began pounding like it wanted to break out of my chest. I almost put out my hand... And then you put the letter in your pocket and told me a girl had confessed to you just a moment earlier... I didn’t know if I was more disappointed or relieved that you crumpled that letter. That was the first time… I…” He trailed off as if he’d forgotten what he had wanted to say. His hand brushed a strand of my hair back. "I realized I really felt something...I really wanted to get that letter. Dumbass." He accentuated with a punch to my chest.
I swallowed, something large was stuck in my throat. But finally, I was able to speak, “The day I went to see you off at the airport before you left for Brazil… After I hugged you goodbye I— I saw a couple kissing beside us and…” My throat was closing up again. I begged myself to relax, but it seemed impossible with the memory flooding into my head, and Hinata's eyes gripping mine. “And at that moment, I had the biggest urge to kiss you. And I freaked out.
"I had had different...urges...before. Like wanting to be by your side constantly and hoping our hands would brush with the movement of the train... But never something so blatantly obvious that I couldn't pretend it meant anything else. So at that moment I was so in shock with my own feelings I let the moment go. And as I watched you leave I regretted it more and more with each step you took. And then I regretted it even more the next day when I realized there were no more chances. And then the day after that I hated myself for not realizing I liked you sooner.”
Hinata’s grip tightened a smidge. “I would have left anyway. It would have been harder.”
I shut my eyes, remembering the loneliness I felt without him. “But, I—"
Hinata stopped me, “Just kiss me now.”
I obliged. A wave of warmth rattled through my bones again. His kisses felt better than anything my head had imagined those nights alone when I missed him and he was miles away watching sunsets or sunrises on someone else's lap in a completely different time zone.
I lifted us upright. Hinata’s hands roamed my chest and then discovered and navigated my back. My skin buzzed alive. I peeled my shirt over my head and threw it away, no idea where it had landed.
Hinata gasped, his hands seemed to hesitate over the change in texture.
“What?” I grinned.
“Oh my gosh, your Olympic tattoo is in such a cool spot!” He gushed.
“Oh.” Not what I thought he was gushing over.
Hinata’s hand traced the 5 rings decorating the space underneath my collarbone, awe on his face.
“Most people put theirs on a visible spot, but I like that only I can see yours.” Hinata’s arms hooped around my neck and his fingertips tickled me. He looked at me through reddish lashes.
“And everyone else in the locker room…”
“Oh, yeah.” His index drew squiggle lines.
“Where’s yours?” I asked as goosebumps spread down to my toes.
“Find it,” he said slyly.
I wondered if this was the same expression he had given his exes to lure them. It was very effective.
I attacked his neck with my teeth. “You dumbass, I just remembered it’s on your tricep.”
Hinata’s arms wrapped around me. He kissed the base of my neck. “It looks cool when I jump for a spike.”
At the reminder of volleyball, my guts twisted into a knot.
“Where are you going tomorrow?” I asked, fearing the reply.
Hinata’s arms stayed around me, but they stopped playing.
“I’m— I’m going home…”
I knew the answer, but I asked anyway. “Home… In Miyagi?”
“In Brazil.”
My throat closed up so tautly I couldn’t form a word. I was thankful that he couldn’t see my face.
My arms instinctively enclosed around him tighter. He caressed the nape of my neck.
“This is what would have happened four years ago,” Hinata said to my back.
I pulled back. “The next Olympics are in just a little over a year. I’m gonna see you there.”
Hinata pressed the top of his head against my collarbone. “I don’t want to compete against you, I want to play alongside you.”
So why didn’t you stay? Why did you go to Brazil instead of staying with me? It’s what I wanted to say, though there was no use when I already knew the answer. And maybe I didn’t like it, but Hinata had done the right thing.
After graduation, The Japanese National Volleyball Federation had offered Hinata a spot in the team, but they hadn’t promised him a position as a Regular. They didn’t even try to pretend like he might make it into one of the Alternates. He might have been stuck as a Reserve or a training partner for all he knew.
But before the Japanese Team had even laid their eyes on him, the Brazilian team had been poking him for a while. The Olympics were only a year away, so it was too late to put him in the lineup, but they had practically assured him a spot for the next games if he kept and improved his performance. And they couldn’t promise to take him to the upcoming Olympics as an Alternate, but they would give him a chance to prove himself.
The choice had been obvious. But even then, Hinata had hesitated, waiting and hoping that Brazil’s insistence would change Japan’s mind. It did no such thing.
Japan was going to be fighting international giants, and with an average player height of 1.80 meters, they couldn’t afford to lose more height. Whereas Brazil’s walls measured 2 meters; they had no problem scraping off a bit for more speed.
Back then, I didn’t understand why he had hesitated. Brazil had an amazing team and was basically promising him things I would have to fight for in the Japanese team.
I wasn’t thinking about what he must have felt having to leave it all behind… Not until he left me behind.
"You used to want to beat me. That was your goal." I reminded him gloomily.
"Kageyama, I was fifteen. And you weren't so attractive back then. You were more like an annoying King who thought he could play volleyball on his own."
I tried to ignore the insults, but I wasn't strong enough. I glared back at him.
“You’re going to show your worth to the Japanese team this upcoming Olympics and you’re going to show them what they can accomplish with you.” I wasn't asking him, I was demanding him.
Hinata seemed like he had short-circuited. “T–They didn’t want me back then, why—“
“Because you’re a fucking Olympian now.” I dug my index finger into his chest. “Not to mention a Regular in the final lineup for the upcoming Games.”
Hinata’s cheeks flushed pink. Mine did the same when he took my mouth with his. My lids fell closed.
I felt the pulse of his heartbeat on his neck, his heated nose bumping against mine, the press of his fingers on my waist…
“It’s kinda hot, isn’t it?” Hinata pulled back, fanning himself with his T-shirt,
“Dumbass,” I couldn't help the laugh escaping from me as I peeled his shirt off for him. He threw himself on me. I fell back on the bed, Hinata’s weight on me. The reddish line of curly hair running down his stomach tickling my skin.
I could now say I liked Hinata on top of me like that just as much as I did volleyball…
Well, maybe not.
Well … this was pretty good.
Hinata sucked on my neck as he enlaced our fingers and pinned my arms.
Okay… maybe this was just a little better…
Sparks blazed behind my lids. This was feeling too—
“Hinata,” I caught his hand just as it began to slip underneath into dangerous territory.
He gave me an innocent look.
“You’re leaving me tomorrow.” My brows dipped. “You don’t deserve it.”
Hinata replied with a pout on his lips. “Really? It’s because of that?”
It was hard to keep my word with his digits tingling my belly. I tried to show how serious I was with my expression, because my tongue was about to contradict me.
His hand slid back up my chest to curl around my neck.
“So, ya going to take care of it yourself?” Hinata cocked his head. I instantly realized how tight my lower regions felt.
My face couldn’t have heated up more without exploding into flames. “Y-Yes. In fact, I will.” Because one more touch from him and I didn't think I'd have the strength to reject him again.
I stood up quickly, before my body betrayed me even further. I gave him a scrunched-eye look as I made my way to the bathroom.
“Think of me, okay?” Hinata called.
“You dirty bastard.”
“I can bring you one of those magazines you have of me, if it helps.” He rolled upside down on the bed. “Or you can keep the door open, I'll pose."
“Who are you?” I asked as I shut the door behind me and pressed my back against the wall. Shivers shook my entire body.
This was the right thing to do, I told myself.
…It was going to be a quick job.
– – –
Hinata slept curled up around me. The heat of his body against my back, the weight of his arm over my waist. His light breaths splashed against the back of my neck.
I wanted to stay awake and savour the feeling of it all, I didn’t know if we would ever find ourselves like this again, but my eyelids fell like stone before he even began to snore.
– – –
The next day, I had to leave for volleyball training. Hinata had to go pack his bags. His absence felt so strong during practice I kept looking over my shoulder, imagining he was somewhere nearby.
I rushed to the airport as soon as the coach whistled the end of the day. I didn’t take a shower, I didn’t even change out my volleyball uniform. I was so anxious, I accidentally took the local train instead of the Rapid Express and spent an extra half hour jogging my leg.
Hinata was waiting at the starting line of the security area, a backpack and a medium-sized suitcase with him.
I sprinted the last bit of the way. Hinata dropped his bag and caught me in an embrace. I tried to catch my breath, but I was letting go of all the worry I had accumulated on my way there. Hinata held me until I was okay.
“Kageyama,” Hinata began, “I don’t mean to ruin the moment but… I did a little investigating and it’s not so simple switching teams like that…” He was referring to what we had talked about the night before. His voice was unsteady. “You need, like, an approval from the FIVB… and a 3-year cooling-off period…”
I pulled back to look at him. Was that snot running down his nose?
“I already know all that, dumbass.”
Hinata sniffled.
“When has something being difficult ever stopped you?” I asked him.
The corners of his mouth twitched.
“Well then,” Hinata said, back together as if he hadn’t been on the verge of tears a moment earlier. “Give me a proper goodbye, this time.” He grinned with his head tilted to one side.
I wasn't battling strange feelings of love this time around. I gave him the kiss my body wanted. There would be no regrets later, only ache.
And then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, he had grabbed his suitcases, rolled them down the line, and disappeared behind the sheer crystal wall.
My arms wrapped around me.
I hadn’t even gotten the chance to show off my Mizuno shoe collection to him.