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Kageyama’s head begins to spin at the sight before him; Hinata is at the center of the growing crowd of worried teammates as he tries to smile and keep himself from writhing in pain. The angry red of the bruise spreading on his left wrist and the incessant trembling of his fingers betray him as he insists that he’s alright.
“Honest,” he assures everyone. “It doesn’t even hurt that bad.”
Nobody believes him.
A few of their teammates grimace. Kageyama himself turns his head when he notices the boy’s eyes start to water.
It’s too much.
All Kageyama can do for him right now is focus on unfurrowing his eyebrows to reel in the outburst he tastes on his tongue. His sister liked to tease that it was always his eyebrows that made his scowl especially terrifying. She didn’t have to tell him what that did to his words either. They helped misconstrue his distress and confusion into something ugly and unnecessarily harsh.
Unfortunately, he fails this time too.
“Stop being an idiot, Hinata. Get off the damn court and let Yachi help you.”
No. That’s not what he wanted to say. But Kageyama can’t take them back now. His command dissipates more than the fire in HInata’s pleads to stay.
A hush falls over the room: Kageyama hears hurried footsteps, a quiet back-and-forth between the managers and Hinata, and then the awkward shuffling to settle him on the bench to get him properly looked at. A moment later, Daichi is calling for a break.
There’s an unsettling hum as the team crowds around again, this time to drink water. It irks Kageyama, because everyone is trying to act like nothing just happened. How can they go on about their day when he’s tuned in to every hiss his partner makes just paces away from him?
Hinata is soon escorted to the nurse’s office by Yachi. The blonde isn’t back by the time Daichi resumes practice.
Still, the wrongness in the air persists. His whole body betrays him as his sets miss their mark nine times out of ten. He apologizes for himself after what seems like the millionth time, and no one, not even Tsukishima, teases him about it.
Daichi eventually pulls Kageyama aside and encourages him to take a lap around campus to cool his head. He nods and quietly apologizes one more time before heading outside. He redoes his stretches to stall and stiffens when he feels a tap on his shoulder. It’s his vice-captain.
“Hi,” Suga singsongs in greeting. “Mind if I join you?” He nods gratefully, and they start a leisurely pace in silence.
All throughout the run, Kageyama’s thoughts whirl around and around. He doesn’t know why he can’t get the image of Hinata cradling his wounded arm out of his head. He doesn’t know why that would affect his play so much. He doesn’t know anything really.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Kageyama says finally, slowing down to a walk. The older setter follows suit.
“Was it maybe because you yelled at Hinata?” Suga suggests.
“I didn’t mean to,” he says quickly. The words just don’t come out right. Neither do his explanations.
No explanations are needed for his upperclassman though, who only nods and smiles in understanding. “The whole team knows you meant well. We know you wanted what’s best for Hinata, and soon enough your partner will see that too.”
Kageyama resists the urge to cry. How Suga knew exactly what to say to him was always a mystery but it was greatly appreciated. He musters out a watery thank you as they’re walking through the gym doors.
Coach Ukai sends them a questioning look as they enter, to which Suga sends a thumbs up and proceeds to slap Kageyama on the back. The sting is just what he needs to get his head back in the game and he too, sends an awkward thumbs-up. He’ll be okay.
The man shakes his head at the setters fondly before instructing them to grab a drink and rest before getting ready to be subbed into the practice match that had been set up in their absence.
Just watching them makes Kageyama’s hands ache with the anticipation to jump in and set for someone, anyone. As that ache grows, Hinata comes to mind. He’s quick to blink the image away, but the sound of the boy asking for the next toss too plays like a broken record in his head.
He’s eventually subbed in, thankfully dulling the constant thought of his missing teammate as he gets serious again. The match goes on for the rest of practice, and he’s so focused with the next play that he doesn’t notice when Yachi comes back from the nurse’s office alone.
It’s only until they’re cleaning up that he sees her helping Nishinoya-senpai and Asahi-senpai collect the volleyballs. A million questions flood his mind: Where was Hinata? Was he alright? How bad was his injury?
He knows his furrowed eyebrows are making his scowl scary again when he slinks up next to her and she yelps the moment she turns around to face him. They quickly become a spectacle as Yachi goes to apologize the second Kageyama goes to do the same. After they calm down, the duo laugh awkwardly at their own antics.
“You came to ask about Hinata, right?” Kageyama is grateful for Yachi’s perceptiveness. He nods. “He was sent home for the day. He needs rest right now, is what the nurse said.”
He didn’t know what he had expected when he had asked; he figured that Hinata would be sent home. It was still a surprise that he did. Kageyama wishes that he could have seen Hinata before he left. Just to see that he was doing better and that he wasn’t affected by Kageyama’s earlier outburst.
Luckily, Suga decides to be his savior for the second time that day. Although the team all make their way to Ukai’s family mart, the setters are the only ones to linger in the aisles. Kageyama follows closely behind a humming upperclassman, who swiftly adds three or four items to the basket they picked up on the way in. Over-the-counter medicine for suppressing fever symptoms, electrolyte drinks to stay hydrated, light snacks that a weak stomach could handle—all things that would be given to someone who was ill.
He refrains from questioning his senpai’s methods of madness. He knows it’ll be explained to him sooner or later. He doesn’t have to wait long; the second they walk out of the store, Suga turns around and extends his hand with the bag of items in his direction. He’s smiling.
“For me?” he asks, unsure, but takes the bag anyway. Could his upperclassman sense that he was coming down with something and this was his way of telling him to go home and rest too?
“For Hinata, actually.” Suga corrects with a laugh. “You wanted to see him, didn’t you?”
He fiddles with the hem of his sports jacket, “Yeah.”
“He’ll need that then,” he juts his chin out to refer to the bag. “See ya!”
And with that, Kageyama is left to his own devices. He can’t help but think it would have calmed his nerves some if his senpai had come along.
He’s off. The night seems endless. Unfortunately for Kageyama, the walk to Hinata’s isn’t. His legs are lead every step he takes closer to the door. The knock turns his arm to rubber.
There’s surprise (and a little bit of relief) when Hinata’s little sister answers the door. He promptly introduces himself and his reason for stopping by. Panic sets in once more as she calls out for her older brother.
“Someone’s at the door for you!” She yells into the house. He hears a muffled yell back.
“Mom isn’t here right now, but don’t tell my brother I told you because I’m not supposed to tell people when she’s not home.” She says in one breath, on the cusp of whispering and talking in her normal voice. Kageyama promises not to tell just as Hinata shuffles up behind his sister.
The ginger seems in a worse state than when he saw him this afternoon. There’s a large blanket draped over his shoulders with the excess fabric dragging behind him along the floor. His eyes are red-rimmed and rubbed raw from the looks of it. He’d been crying.
A stab of guilt pierces through Kageyama as he watches Hinata try to play it off.
“What are you doing here Stupid-yama?”
That’s all that comes out of his mouth before he sways once and collapses to the floor. Kageyama thanks his reflexes when he is successful in swooping in to catch the boy in his arms.
The world stills for half a second and then the girl is crying, asking Kageyama if her brother will be okay. He notices the reassurances meant for her are also a little for himself too. It shakes him to his core how easily someone as passionate and fiery as Hinata could be reduced to this state in less than a day.
He asks Hinata’s sister to lead the way to his room. He follows her in, falling behind to take his shoes off, and then catches up again with a few large strides. When they reach his bed, he tries to lay the boy down as gently as possible, being extra mindful of the injured hand cradled to his chest. Hinata barely stirs.
It seems all the items he’d brought would be put to good use. Had Suga known that Hinata would be stuck in bed with a fever? Had he sent Kageyama on this quest to help him through it?
It aches somewhere in his chest that he wouldn’t know something like this about his partner of all people. Wasn’t I supposed to know you the best?
“Or does that only refer to volleyball?” The bitterness of his words dries out his throat and he wishes he’d brought something to drink to wash the taste away.
.
Hinata’s mom comes home to find her son’s teammate caring for him. Kageyama had busied himself by getting Hinata to stay awake long enough to take some medicine and a sip of the electrolyte drink. He’d also periodically switch out the cooling patch on his forehead.
In thanks, she offers to set a futon up for him to spend the night since it's too late for him to go back home. Kageyama accepts and sends a text to his older sister to update his whereabouts before getting ready for bed.
For some reason though, he can’t find it in himself to fall asleep. He stares into the dark and listens to the sound of Hinata’s labored breathing, thinking about things that shouldn’t be occupying this much of his mind but do.
What else did he not know about Hinata? How could he be the one to know his partner the best? What would he have to do?
He’s so busy mulling over these questions that he doesn’t feel Hinata stir. It’s only until he hears his name being called out softly in the dark that he’s pulled out of his puzzling thoughts.
“I’m here,” he whispers back as he gets up to shuffle closer to the boy’s side. Hinata turns his head to face him and slowly reaches out to graze his fingers over the arm Kageyama has on the bed. The setter feels the hair on his arm rise at the touch. He can’t tell if the heat is solely from the fever or something else but it overwhelms Kageyama’s every sense all the same.
The boy pulls back from the touch he initiated after a few seconds and apologizes weakly. “I had to make sure you weren’t some fever dream I was having.”
“Nope,” Kageyama hums distractedly. He’s still feeling the effects of Hinata’s fiery touch on his skin. If he looked at his arm in the light right now, would there be a mark? “It’s really me.” He adds this last bit of reassurance after a delay.
His partner might be burning up with a fever but the fire that starts low in Kageyam’s belly is not the fault of his body working hard to fight off some germs. It is something entirely separate and foreign—-something like he’s never experienced in his entire years of living.
“You won this time,” Hinata croaks out.
Kageyama feels his lips quirk up at the thought of their ongoing competition. “Yes.”
“Don’t leave me behind.” It’s a plea that comes out of left field to Kageyama. In his fever-addled state, he assumes Hinata would be more vulnerable, but he did not expect this.
Regarding that plea though, it’s too late now for Kageyama to do that, even if he one day wanted to. Ever since that match in middle school, the ginger had been on his mind; a constant presence looming over him until they had met again in the Karasuno school gym. It meant something that this happened, Kageyama was sure of it.
But he didn’t really know how to say all of that, especially to someone who was letting his fever talk for him in his half-asleep state, so he just said, “I wouldn’t."
.
Kageyama is surprised at how easy it is to fall asleep after their conversation. It’s not a great night’s rest, but it does good to wash away the worries of last night.
He studies Hinata’s still-sleeping form beside him, notices that he’s breathing easier. He gets the urge to run his hands through the boy’s hair or trace the bridge of his nose with his finger; even the new feelings he discovered yesterday are accepted by the Kageyama of today in stride. It’s nice.
He leaves, thanking Hinata’s mother for the hospitality. It’s early enough to watch the sun rise. As the great star in the sky peaks over the trees to illuminate the world around him, Kageyama fills up with light too.
He practically floats back home for a quick shower and a change of clothes before heading off to school. Even during morning practice, he feels more in tune with his body and his teammates than ever before.
“So everything went well last night?” Suga asks after taking note of his stellar condition. Kageyama nods and thanks him profusely. His senpai waves the praise away, but he looks proud of himself.
Of course, Hinata misses that whole day. He’s still recovering, after all, Kageyama thinks to himself. The day after that, the ginger joins the team again for afternoon practice adorning his newest accessory: a wrist brace.
Although it does send a brief wave of nausea through Kageyama to see the reality of the injury through the brace, he knows that it’s a small discomfort to have in order to play with Hinata once more.
The team crowds around the ginger, ooh-ing, and ah-ing. Suga ruffles Hinata’s hair, and Daichi places a hand on his shoulder telling him to dive forward with more care next time. The second years take turns wishing him well on a speedy recovery. Even Tsukishima joins the crowd to scold him gently.
Kageyama lingers while everyone else walks off to begin their warm-up drills. It’s just the two of them now, with the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the thuds and smacks of volleyballs being hit about surrounding them.
“What do you want Bakageyama?” Hinata asks, skeptical. The reaction reminds Kageyama of a cat raising its hackles. The comparison relieves some of the stress in his body.
And truthfully, he wants to say a lot of things. What he’s been thinking, how worried he was. How sorry he is. But again, Kageyama doesn’t know how to say all that without it coming out wrong. He just hopes that whatever does come out of his mouth, Hinata interprets it correctly.
“Watch me,” is all he says. This is not the demand from a king. This is a demand from his partner. Will Hinata understand?
He doesn’t wait for a reply, but the heavy weight of the boy’s stare all throughout practice is answer enough.
.
Kageyama doesn’t know how it happens, but he and Hinata start spending more time together. The time they would have spent on the court but can’t due to Hinata’s injury is instead spent during their lunch hour, or on the weekends.
The amazingly strange thing is that they don’t just talk about volleyball. Their conversations veer off into other topics, like food and hobbies and music, and Kageyama thinks Hinata could talk about nothing and it’d still be fun to listen to him.
That’s the one thing he’s learned about the ginger. Hinata is really good at talking. Before this, he might have thought that his nonstop chatter was annoying. Now, it’s less annoying and more so endearing as hell, and it works so well precisely because Kageyama can’t talk for shit. He’s all too happy to let Hinata speak for two.
A stranger thing he’s learned is that even with the minimal talking Kageyama does, the boy still manages to know exactly what he’s thinking. In fact, when Kageyama had tried to apologize for yelling at him on the day he got injured, Hinata had just tilted his head in confusion.
“What’s there to apologize for?” he had asked.
The setter—like always—hadn’t known what to say. The bile in his throat steadily rose as he tried to grasp any words that would best explain himself. Bless Hinata—-he had watched as Kageyama squirmed in his spot and had eased both his mind and the tension in the air with a lighthearted joke.
“Your face was scary but I know you were just worried about me,” the boy teased. Just like that it had been resolved. How he does it, Kageyama doesn’t know.
Eventually, though, the curiosity consumes him, so much so that he goes out and asks him about it.
“It’s like you can read my mind,” he says one day as they’re walking out of Ukai’s family mart. They had perused the snack items for something filling to eat on their way home from the local arcade, to which they were frequent visitors now that they had started spending more time together.
Before hanging out with Hinata, he had never really stopped by an arcade. For him, it was thought to be a place he could only really go with friends—-which he didn’t have a lot of when he was younger. It hadn’t bothered him at that time that he was lonelier than a kid his age should be but he was content with using the time that would have been allotted for hangouts to be used for honing his volleyball skills instead.
In a way, he was kind of glad he had spent his younger years wanting but barely stepping foot into one because it just made his visit with Hinata feel so unlike anything else. He didn’t know how to explain it, even to himself, but he knew he wanted to experience this new wonderful feeling again and again with Hinata at his side.
The first time at the arcade had been like the most recent time (earlier today), where Hinata would take the lead and Kageyama would be content to play any game with the ginger, but his eyes would stray towards a particular game, and by a stroke of luck Hinata would steer them towards the machine and demand they play it.
When they were satisfied with their high scores, Kageyama’s eyes would linger on the next game he wished to play, and like clockwork, Hinata would push him over to play that one too. How? How did Hinata do it? With mind powers?
The boy in question guffaws at the serious accusation of owning a superpower, “Uh, not really.”
He pauses, and Kageyama watches him struggle to open the pastry’s wrapper with one good hand before gently plucking it out of his hand and tugging it open for him. Hinata gives out a mumbled thank you, and takes a big bite. He chews twice before swallowing. Then he continues.
“It’s more like I’ve been watching you.” Kageyama blinks.
“Yeah, because I told you to.”
Hinata shakes his head, as he fiddles with the wrapper around his half-eaten pastry. That’s when the setter notices the tips of his ears change to a reddish color.
“Ever since middle school. Ever since that match. I’ve been watching you.
I’ve been wanting to beat you ever since then. I’ve always stared at your back, training harder and harder so that I could maybe one day get close enough to touch you, and then surpass you.”
“But with this,” Hinata waves his injured arm around with a hollow huff of a laugh. It makes something in Kageyama’s chest ache. “Sometimes I think that I’m just as far behind as I was in middle school.”
They slow to a stop as Kageyama tries to take everything in, while simultaneously coming up with his reply. He wants to reassure the ginger, wants to say the right thing, whatever that is, and put his mind at ease like Hinata had done for him all those times before.
All Kageyama knows is the truth in his heart right now. So he says just that.
“I’ve been watching you too,” he says quietly. By the look on his face, the confession from the setter comes as a shock to Hinata. “Ever since middle school.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve been waiting for someone like you.” Somebody good. Somebody better. Somebody to chase him to the ends of the earth just to stand on the same court again.
“And I’ll keep waiting. Until your wrist heals. Until you get your receives right. Until we stand on the same court again as equals.”
Kageyama finds that he says these things like they’re inevitable. Like these events are set in stone. To him they are.
Hinata’s face, which had been clouded with insecurity a few moments before, clears up with a large smile that fills Kageyama up with light, similar to the way the sun had the morning he was walking home from the boy’s house.
“By no means am I slowing down though,” he adds quickly. “I’ll keep pushing and pushing, only because I know you’ll find a way to catch up anyway.”
Hinata only snorts, “Obviously!”
.
A promise is made on their walk home that evening. A prophecy is foretold by the two who wish for it to come true.
Two days later, Hinata is given the green light to start participating in the lighter workouts. He’s thrilled. All his pent-up energy over the last few weeks practically oozes off him in giant waves, as he does a few knee jumps to warm up. Kageyama, like he’s always done, watches him and feels just as restless.
“Both you and Hinata are fired up,” Suga steps beside him to comment. “That excited to practice together again, huh?”
“Of course,” Kageyama says matter-of-factly, without taking his eyes off the ginger. “We’re partners.”
At that moment, Hinata turns to meet his gaze. There’s a wild look in his eyes that the setter knows all too well; it’s the same look that he dawned in middle school, that Kageyama couldn’t get out of his mind after the first time he saw it.
It was a look of hunger—-a need for more time on the court, a need to play more volleyball.
And honestly, who was Kageyama to refuse?