Archive of Our Own

Hinata Shouyou had only been a trainee for two months when his company pushed him to participate in a survival reality show.

There was really no other choice. His agency was on the verge of bankruptcy and couldn’t afford to train too many trainees. On the morning before Hinata headed to the filming studio, the company director even visited him, offering a shōbumeshi in hopes that everything would go smoothly. His manager, who had spent personal money to buy him high-quality hair dye, reluctantly said goodbye as Hinata dashed into the vast studio grounds.

Hinata stepped into the studio lot as if he were the final representative of a dying empire. He was tiny in the sea of people, all with meticulously made-up faces, perfectly styled hair, and eyes glittering with ambition or cold indifference as if already accustomed to being scrutinized under the harsh gaze of the cameras. Meanwhile, Hinata had only just learned how to breathe silently in the practice room three days ago.

Still not used to performing in heels, Hinata tripped on the red carpet in the main hall, nearly slamming his face into the leg of a trainee who was a full six feet tall. The boy didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow as if trying to decide whether Hinata was part of the background dance crew. Hinata awkwardly smiled sheepishly, bowed his head in apology, then stepped back two paces, only to step on a staff member's foot, causing her to jump and drop her clipboard.

In short, Hinata Shouyou entered the entertainment industry with a bout of confusion and a bright, cheerful smile.

He had never thought of becoming an idol. He just liked dancing, and not even enough to truly stand out. But things turned out this way, and when the first camera panned toward him, all he could do was stare wide-eyed into the lens like a startled golden fawn caught in the headlights.

Because he was only a two-month trainee from a company that had never had any music groups active for more than two years, there were many things Hinata didn't understand.

Why, though they were all trainees, did some people receive cheers and gasps from the audience the moment their names and agency affiliations appeared on the big screen? When it was Hinata’s turn to appear on screen, no one even bothered to whisper.

Kageyama Tobio was one such example.

Under the stage lights, he stepped out as if this place was his home ground, not a survival show where people had to fight for every bit of spotlight. His sharp gaze, straight nose bridge, and perfectly proportioned frame seemed tailored to fit any suit without alteration. Every step Kageyama took made others feel as if he was striding through a million-view music video, though in reality, he was just walking to center stage to bow.

The audience erupted in astonished cheers and hushed murmurs, as if his name had triggered a switch in everyone’s seat. Hinata could only stand dazedly in the waiting line nearby, clutching the hem of his uniform tightly, wondering if he should ask the director to change his name to "Kageyama Tobio – Orange Version" just to leech off a little bit of that glory.

He heard someone behind him whisper, "He’s from that company. The one with that idol who appears in eight out of ten ads in Shibuya."

Ah. So not only was he handsome, good at singing, and good at dancing, but he also had an entire empire backing him up.

Hinata looked down at his own practice shoes, which had started to peel at the edges, and sighed very softly.

When Kageyama performed in the evaluation round, he chose a song from a senior at his company. Fluid choreography, deep vocals, and an overwhelming presence quickly won over the judges completely and secured him a spot in Class A. It was then that Hinata truly understood what the clearest difference was between trainees from big companies and those from companies on the verge of bankruptcy. That black-haired boy was even more professional than people who had already debuted from Hinata's company.

When Kageyama stepped off the stage, still glistening with sweat from his powerful performance, all eyes followed him like he was a king holding a sacred sword. Some trainees quietly moved aside in admiration and caution. Some even clapped softly as if afraid to disturb him.

As for Hinata, standing tucked away in the hallway waiting for his turn, he unconsciously raised his hand. He wasn't sure why he did it, only that when he saw Kageyama walk past with a face devoid of any emotion, back perfectly straight and steps without hesitation, Hinata felt his heart flutter with an indescribable feeling of admiration.

He gave a thumbs up.

Hinata had no deep intentions when he did this, he just wanted to praise his peer for doing well. He thought that if he did well, he would surely want someone to cheer him on like this too.

But Kageyama walked past him as if he hadn't seen him at all. Not in an intentionally dismissive way, but genuinely not bothering to notice. Not even a glance. He just kept walking straight ahead, leaving Hinata standing there, hand still raised in mid-air, looking as if he were trying to catch phone signal in an area with no cell towers.

After that, Hinata quietly lowered his hand, scratched his head, then smiled foolishly at himself.

"Maybe... he didn't see," he mumbled. "Being that tall, his field of vision is probably different from ordinary people..."

And then, it was Hinata’s turn to take the stage.

There was no blinding spotlight like Kageyama's, no thunderous cheers from the audience, but when the music began, he still danced with all his might using his two months of training, with all his belief that if no one would cheer for him, then at least he would cheer for himself. The music seemed to emanate from within his own body as Hinata truly immersed himself in every movement and savored each moment of standing on stage.

When Hinata finally finished his performance, he noticed a pair of sharp, cold eyes watching him intently from the audience. Kageyama was looking at him with an evaluating gaze as if he were the judge, and if there had been a microphone in his hand, Hinata truly wouldn't have known whether to look at him or the actual judges sitting below.

Though Hinata was rather proud of his performance, given the limited training a bankrupt company could afford, he was still placed in Class C with the reason being that "you dance like an unorganized wild animal." When that harsh comment echoed through the auditorium, there were soft chuckles from around the audience. Hinata still bowed his head in thanks, replaying Kageyama's movements when he stood on stage in his mind.

Maybe... maybe I really was a bit too wild.

After the evaluation, everyone was given a uniform suitcase and a map to the dormitory—a crumpled A4 paper, photocopied double-sided, black and white, with no visual aids and, most importantly, no "You are here" marker.

Hinata stared at the map for three minutes before folding it back with confidence, deciding to rely on his instincts instead.

Ten minutes later, his instincts brought him close to the communal restrooms, where the smell of disinfectant was overpowering and the flickering lights looked like something straight out of a horror movie. He kept dragging his suitcase along, sweat beginning to form a thin film on his face. This was the price of stubbornly staying behind to find his Class C roommate, who had likely already fled to the dorms out of sheer exhaustion. With his phone confiscated at the studio entrance, Hinata was now left with only a blurry A4 sheet and sheer faith to find his way back. He stood frozen in the middle of the grimy tiled hallway, glancing around. Everything looked suspiciously identical, like he was stuck in a never-ending loop.

Just then, from a distance, came the sound of quick, strong, decisive footsteps. Hinata nearly cried from relief and quickly looked up to see who his savior was.

Kageyama Tobio appeared as if from the mist. Still wearing a dark hoodie, hair damp with sweat falling over his forehead, face expressionless exactly as it was on stage. His eyes swept over Hinata once, then as usual, he immediately turned away.

Hinata awkwardly straightened up, quickly bowing. "Ah... hi there!"

There was no reply. Kageyama’s ominous expression made Hinata think he might be rushing to the bathroom, so he awkwardly dragged his suitcase in the opposite direction, hoping the way Kageyama had come from was the way to the dorm.

Three seconds later, Kageyama turned around, took a long stride, and grabbed the handle of Hinata’s suitcase.

"Where are you going?"

Hinata jumped. "I—uh—dormitory?"

"That’s the bathroom," Kageyama said flatly.

"I know," Hinata replied on reflex, then quickly backtracked. "...Well, not really..."

Kageyama sighed, sounding even more desperate than when Hinata's managing company director decided to send him to this program.

"Follow me."

"Huh? But..."

"Another five meters and you’ll be completely lost in the logistics wing. No one’s there. There are dogs."

"Dogs?!" Hinata yelped.

"Yeah. As big as calves."

Hinata immediately clung to Kageyama’s sleeve.

"...Do you know the way?" he asked, eyes wide as he looked up at the taller boy.

"I’m not you," Kageyama replied bluntly.

"...Thank you," Hinata mumbled, trailing behind as he tugged his suitcase. "Also... your performance was really cool."

Kageyama didn’t look back. But after a few moments of silence, he said quietly,

"…You’re not a bad dancer at all."

Hinata froze for a second. Then his face turned as red as his hair.

The shared dormitory was an old concrete building with hallways where you could clearly hear the drag of slippers and air conditioners humming throughout the night. Hinata was assigned to a four-person room with other Class C members - a bunk bed room with personal metal lockers and exactly two hooks for hanging belongings. He arrived late, so all the upper bunks had been taken. That was fine though, Hinata preferred sleeping on the lower bunk anyway. He didn't want to be sleeping and have reptiles on the ceiling defecate on his face.

As soon as he sat down on the bed, he heard his roommates chattering away:

"Hey, did you guys see Kageyama? He was the same when I trained with him before. Never changes expression, practices like he's possessed."

"Just looking at his face, you can tell he's hard to approach. Every time someone accidentally gets off beat, he glares at them until they break into a cold sweat."

"Right, I know someone who got scolded by him until they cried, and it was just because they couldn't keep up with his choreography."

Hinata silently untied his shoelaces, ears still perked up. It wasn't good to listen to people badmouthing someone who had just helped him, but Hinata couldn't help being curious about the person hailed as the king of this stage.

Amidst those unrestrained, harsh words, Hinata pulled off his sweat-dampened socks and sat quietly for a while. He didn't know why, but he found himself remembering the image of Kageyama in the hallway with those decisive steps, never turning back, yet still silently waiting for him to catch up.

"Tyrannical king, huh..." Hinata repeated, very softly.

Maybe Kageyama really was cold and difficult to approach. But from all the stories floating around, Hinata could only see one thing: Kageyama always worked alone. So alone that no one ever got close enough to truly understand what he was thinking.

And that wasn’t tyranny, Hinata suddenly thought.

It was loneliness.

After the initial skill evaluation came the elimination round. The trainees were divided into classes from A to F, entering the true phase of competition. The show allowed contestants to choose their own songs, but the order of selection was based on class ranking. Class F would pick first, followed by the others, up to Class A. However, those choosing later held the power to push out a lower-ranked trainee from any group that had already reached its member limit. Class C, where Hinata was placed, sat awkwardly in the middle, leaving him with a fifty-fifty chance of getting the song he wanted.

As soon as the song list was announced, Hinata let out a small cheer when he saw "Fly High Again," a fast-paced song with many strong drops, perfect for his energetic dancing style. It was also the song he had practiced the most during his time at the company. Without hesitation, when his name was called, he ran straight to the signboard bearing the song's title, his eyes lighting up as he realized he was the final member to complete the team.

But his joy didn’t last long.

Moments later, Hinata was bitterly removed from the group by a Class B trainee. The boy didn’t even bother with politeness. "Your height throws off the group’s balance," he said bluntly. "You’ll mess up the formation."

He was crossed off from performing the song he had chosen and pushed to a song no one had voluntarily taken called "Moonlight Waltz."

This wasn't a song for beginners. The melody was smooth and constantly changing, and the choreography demanded body control down to the fingertips. It wasn't the "try hard and you'll make it" type, but rather a physical and mental exercise that could make an ordinary trainee cry from exhaustion. No one wanted to choose it, not because they didn't like it, but because it was too difficult to win with.

Hinata sat dejectedly, hands trembling as he held the sheet music. He really thought he could do better, at least not be pushed to a song that seemed designed to test his ultimate limits. Even in previous seasons, "Moonlight Waltz" had faced opposition when it was included in the program for trainee performances.

When Kageyama Tobio's name was called, all tense eyes turned toward the cold face of the black-haired boy. Being the last person called, and also holding the power of life and death over all the teams that already had enough members, Kageyama's decision at this moment was like a king choosing a sacrificial lamb for the god of war.

But to everyone's surprise, he only quietly moved to the position of the Moonlight Waltz group, standing right next to Hinata. Their shoulders lightly touched, and Kageyama didn't hesitate to turn and stare directly at Hinata.

"You chose this song?"

Hinata flinched, trying to keep his voice steady. "I… got pushed here."

Kageyama frowned slightly. "This song’s hard."

"I know that…"

"If you fall behind, you’ll throw off the whole formation."

"I know that too…"

The honesty in Kageyama’s voice made his face burn with embarrassment. But unexpectedly, Kageyama simply nodded and said calmly,

"I’ll practice with you. You’re a good dancer. You just need a few adjustments."

The words were light as air but left Hinata speechless for several seconds. Before he could even ask what he meant, Kageyama had already turned away. Behind him, Hinata stood there, face burning, burying it into the music sheet, silently screaming "You can do this!" to himself a hundred times over in his heart.

The first practice session for the Moonlight Waltz group took place in a practice room smaller than the others', probably because no one expected much from people pushed to such an overwhelming song. The mirror had scratches, the speakers occasionally had light static, and the air conditioner rattled in the corner of the ceiling. But Hinata didn't pay much attention to any of that, as he was busy trying to remember the complicated choreography and the song's unexpectedly changing rhythm.

He danced wrong three times in a row within the first ten minutes, each time because he got carried away by the drum beat instead of the bass line. When he slipped off-beat for the fourth time and nearly fell face-first into the mirror, Kageyama, who was practicing solo moves at the back, immediately reached out to catch his shoulder.

"You’re counting the wrong beat."

Hinata panted heavily, sweat streaming down his temples. "I know... I'm trying to get used to listening to it, but this song feels like it's testing my brain and feet at the same time."

Kageyama said nothing more, just frowned slightly and replayed the music section but deliberately slowed it down. Then, without waiting for Hinata to ask, he repeated the movement sequence clearly, each step steady and precise to the point where Hinata almost forgot he was breathing hard.

Later, when the two of them were resting by the mirror wall, Hinata leaned on his knee and turned to ask curiously, "Hey, why did you choose this song anyway? You could’ve gone for something easier. Everyone in this group is lower-ranked… no one can keep up with you."

Kageyama wiped the sweat from his neck with a small towel, turning his face away slightly as if thinking. After a moment, he answered, his voice dropping lower but no longer as cold as usual: "This song is by a senior from my company. He performed it in the first concert I ever watched. Back then, I was still a student, didn't know anything about choreography or stages. But when he stood in the center of the stage with the lights shining down, I thought... I wanted to be like that."

Hinata looked up. For the first time, he saw that Kageyama's eyes no longer held that sharp coldness or scrutinizing gaze. In those eyes was something very different, almost like gentleness mixed with sincere admiration. In that moment, the boy who always seemed like he could control everything suddenly looked incredibly small.

Hinata suddenly remembered the rumor from the other day, that Kageyama came from a company with an idol who occupied 80% of the advertisements on the street. He had thought it was just an exaggeration, but if it was someone who could make Kageyama's eyes become so gentle, then perhaps that rumor was completely true. Someone who could make a king admire them that much must be a great king, right?

In the following days, the practice room remained the place where they struggled with every beat count and dance step. Moonlight Waltz was truly a harsh challenge: the music was slow, but the movements were fast; the vocals required high control, while the choreography continuously demanded moves that called for spatial awareness and balance. For Hinata, it was like dancing through a complex geometric equation, where just one wrong angle would cause the entire formation to collapse.

He still missed beats, not as frequently as on the first day but enough to irritate others if they lacked patience. The more he heard sighs or tongue-clicking from his group members, the more flustered Hinata became. But strangely, the person who should have exploded long ago like Kageyama wasn't getting angry.

Every time Hinata struggled with a difficult section, Kageyama would simply correct it, then practice it with him again. At first, he didn't say much, but gradually, guidance began to appear. He even recorded Hinata's dancing on his phone, played it back, and pointed out each knee joint, each place where he moved off-axis. Hinata discovered that Kageyama was extremely good at observation. He remembered every tiny mistake, not just Hinata's but also those of the remaining group members. And although communication between the group members was still somewhat awkward, at least they now looked like a real team.

The final rehearsal day came faster than they expected.

The stage was more real than imagination, with lights blazing in rhythm, polished wooden floors, and cameras already mounted on sliding tracks, ready to capture every second of performance. Hinata's entire group adjusted their clothes neatly, murmured vocal warm-ups, and though they knew there wouldn't be an audience yet, just stepping into this place alone made their hearts pound rapidly.

The atmosphere became much more excited when the program manager suddenly announced, "Today's final rehearsal will have the presence of two industry seniors to support you: Oikawa Tooru from Seijoh and Ushijima Wakatoshi from Shiratorizawa."

A moment of silence fell over the stage before everything erupted. The trainees couldn't hide their gasps, chatter, and sparkling eyes. Though no one said it out loud, most trainees in the industry knew Oikawa Tooru, dubbed "the nation's prince," was truly an icon of the era, someone who possessed advertisement deals far exceeding anyone else, his face covering electronic billboards in the city center, along with a pair of charming eyes that could smile and make people fall into love's trap in a second. It wasn't the kind of distant or cold beauty, but a vivid, gentle, and refined beauty that made every movement, even a light nod or social smile become captivating. Hinata had also seen Oikawa's photos in posters, but when that senior actually stepped into the rehearsal room, he felt like he was looking at a character who didn't belong to the real world. Moonlight Waltz was also one of the proudest works that Oikawa Tooru had ever composed.

Standing beside him was Ushijima Wakatoshi, someone with a completely opposite aura. Ushijima possessed beauty like the ocean's surging waves before drowning people in breathtaking beauty, the type of person around whom all stage lights seemed to revolve in worship. His eyes were straightforward, his voice deep and firm, and his standing posture as if the entire world was rotating around a fixed point that was himself.

When they introduced themselves and sent greetings to the contestants, everyone bowed respectfully. But Hinata noticed that when Kageyama saw Oikawa, he no longer maintained his usual composure.

Hinata tilted his head to look at Kageyama, then looked toward Oikawa, thinking to himself: Didn't you once say you really admired that senior? Yet now you look so tense?

Oikawa walked over to where the contestants were standing and casually greeted as well as encouraged everyone. When he glided past Kageyama, his gaze didn't pause for a second, exactly like how Kageyama had ignored Hinata on the first day they met. But Kageyama still bowed very deeply. Hinata, standing right next to him, heard him whisper "Good morning, senpai," so softly it was as if no sound was made.

Oikawa didn't respond to the greeting immediately. He swept his gaze from the top of Hinata's orange hair down to the stage uniform, then back to Kageyama. His eyes seemed to be saying something that only Kageyama understood.

The atmosphere subtly tensed.

Ushijima stepped forward, cutting through that unacknowledged tension with his calm, deep voice: "Which group will go first?"

The production staff hurriedly called out the names of the competing teams. Hinata's group was arranged near the end, meaning they would have time to observe the other groups before performing.

Kageyama stood quietly at the back of the line, hands lightly clasped behind his back. Hinata glanced at him, feeling somewhat confused. Kageyama's eyes were no longer the bright and focused ones during practice, but seemed to be stretched by something very private. Perhaps an old memory.

And Hinata wondered, who exactly had that senior been in Kageyama's story?

The entire final rehearsal lasted more than four hours, with each group taking turns on stage, performing while listening to feedback from the two seniors. The atmosphere in the room was always tense as a violin string.

Ushijima was the first to comment. His voice was steady, but his opinions were as straight as a cutting line: "Your voice isn't strong enough to sing the high part." "This movement hasn't reached its full range." "Need more power in the ending section, it's currently falling short." Those receiving his feedback might turn a bit pale, but no one dared to argue because Ushijima was right. Right to the point where there was no room for excuses.

In contrast, Oikawa skillfully encouraged while pointing out the trainees' strengths and weaknesses. His comments were gentle, soft yet still hit the mark. Sometimes it was just a simple question like "Have you ever thought about what kind of emotion you want to guide listeners to when singing?" but it was enough to make everyone stop and reflect on themselves. Oikawa would occasionally demonstrate some movements or sing a sample verse, his voice bright and clear to the point where the trainees almost held their breath. Some people even sneakily turned to look at him after stepping down from the stage, their eyes showing undisguised admiration. Hinata secretly thought that Oikawa's rise in the industry over the years wasn't without reason.

But that atmosphere immediately changed when it was Hinata's group's turn.

The arrangement began playing. The stage lights illuminated the entire group. They started performing, and Hinata silently thanked that they had practiced so many times. No matter how difficult the song was, he wouldn't allow himself to be swept away by fear. Kageyama stood in the center, keeping very steady rhythm. The whole group was more in sync than expected, with only a few small uneven spots but generally fine. He even saw Oikawa nod slightly during their performance.

But when the music stopped and the whole group bowed, Oikawa didn't smile.

"Not bad," he said, but there was something deeper in his voice. "However, Tobio— I mean, Kageyama… you're too focused on details and forgetting the overall harmony of the group."

Hinata was slightly startled. He thought Oikawa would smile, or at least give an encouraging comment. But his face now no longer had its usual gentle appearance, replaced instead by seriousness, decisive to the point of coldness. "Your rhythm is very accurate, every movement is never off by an inch. But have you thought about how it makes the other members look lost when standing next to you? It's like you're performing solo instead of performing with the group."

No one said anything, the whole group seemed to hold their breath.

"And one more thing." Oikawa turned to look toward Ushijima, their eyes meeting for a moment. Hinata keenly noticed Oikawa's hand under the table edge nudging slightly toward Ushijima, as if sending some kind of signal.

"This song lacks a highlight." He said, without beating around the bush. "I think you should add a short transition after the second chorus. It could be breaking rhythm or creating a new variation, somehow to make the following part really stand out."

One of the trainees in Hinata's group hesitated: "But... can we add something like that ourselves?"

"It's a suggestion," Ushijima answered, then paused a bit, "But if you can do it, it will completely change how people remember your performance."

Hinata glanced at Kageyama, seeing him still looking straight at Oikawa, his expression emotionless but his hand already gripping the edge of his shirt lightly.

The final rehearsal ended not long after. When they stepped down from the stage, Hinata was surprised to see Kageyama lean against the wall and smile as if he had finally lifted a heavy burden. His cheeks were slightly flushed, unclear whether from fatigue or something else, and his eyes secretly glanced toward Oikawa who was discussing with the production team at the front of the stage. Hinata caught a glimpse, blinked once and looked carefully again, but he had already turned his face away as if nothing had happened.

"...Are you smiling?" Hinata frowned and asked, "I thought you'd be furious about being criticized like that."

Kageyama wiped the sweat from his forehead, still keeping that gentle small smile, his eyes once again glancing slightly toward the stage. "Actually, I think he said that on purpose."

"On purpose?" Hinata furrowed his brow, "What do you mean? Oikawa-san was clearly serious, and his face was so cold it could freeze."

"That's exactly why," Kageyama said, his voice a bit deeper, "If he praised me publicly in front of everyone, people would say he was being biased because we're from the same company." He looked at Hinata, his gentle gaze overlapping with the image of the boy sitting in the practice room a few days ago. "He spoke harshly like that to help me avoid too much scrutiny. If it's just ordinary technical criticism, no one would question anything."

Hinata was stunned for a moment, then scratched his head. "So... he was so serious that I thought you two had some personal grudge."

"Not a grudge," Kageyama laughed, "But it's true that we used to avoid each other."

Somehow, that smile didn't make Hinata feel at ease. He blinked, waiting for Kageyama to continue.

"When I was still in the same company as him, Moonlight Waltz was the first song I practiced to perform in front of him. Back then, Oikawa-san was much more demanding than now, he was harsh and said I was too rigid in pursuing details, making the song stiff and awkward. I kept practicing like that, and he kept commenting. Until one day I accidentally sprained my ankle while trying to correct my movements according to his instructions, and from then on Oikawa-san never commented again, and started avoiding me."

"He didn't want you to overwork yourself?" Hinata asked quietly, half curious, half unable to believe someone like Oikawa would avoid anyone.

"Yeah. But today, he looked at me, gave very thorough comments, and even asked Ushijima-san to help our group." Kageyama's eyes looked toward the stage once more, this time no longer cautious, but with the quiet light of someone treasuring something they had never dared to hope for. "He still cares. Even just a little bit makes me happy."

Hinata silently watched Kageyama for a moment, then lowered his eyes. His heart trembled slightly, unclear whether it was because of the story or because of the overly honest expression on that face. Under the dim yellow backstage lights, everything seemed softer, even the distance between the two of them seemed to narrow. Hinata gently let his shoulder touch Kageyama's shoulder, whispering.

"So that’s why… you never got mad at me when I kept messing up Moonlight Waltz, right?"

Kageyama didn't answer, but this time he didn't look toward the stage anymore.

Hinata felt something stir in his chest, something tiny, unspoken, but impossible to ignore. He stopped walking to punch a few times at his chest that kept beating erratically, feeling his face gradually heating up. Love was truly simple when you thought about it. Hinata couldn't clearly remember when he started paying attention to Kageyama, maybe it was from those late practice sessions together, when he was so tired he collapsed his head to the floor but could still hear Kageyama's steady beat counting beside him. Or maybe it was from the moment Kageyama turned and said a simple "You did great" when everyone thought Hinata wouldn't be able to handle such a difficult song. Gradually, Hinata's gaze followed Kageyama more and more each day, and his heart became increasingly difficult to control because of it.

But that fragile feeling didn’t bring him happiness.

Every time he remembered Kageyama's gentle eyes when unconsciously searching for Oikawa in the distance, Hinata felt something tighten in his chest. He wondered, could it be that he was just a small shadow of someone Kageyama once turned toward? Could the patience, the gentle care he received, which was nothing like the "tyrannical king" image everyone spoke of, also just be the lingering echo of someone who had left too deep a mark in Kageyama's heart?

The day of their first official performance finally arrived.

Hinata stood behind the stage wings, gripping the microphone so tightly his knuckles turned white. His throat ached painfully, each attempt to swallow felt like swallowing sand. The coldness of the practice room, those late-night practice sessions, and the crushing pressure had left Hinata's body completely exhausted. This was the group's first stage, the first time a real audience would see his efforts. If the performance was ruined because of him, Hinata would regret it for the rest of his life.

He glanced at Kageyama, standing a few steps away, the stage lights casting shadows on his sharp, cold face. Kageyama looked like he didn't belong to this world, his confidence and composure as if the stage was born to honor him. Hinata bit his lip, his heart aching. If he ruined the performance that Kageyama was trying to show in front of Oikawa Tooru, how could he ever make up for it?

"Hinata." Kageyama's voice rang out, pulling Hinata from his chaotic thoughts. He startled, almost dropping the microphone. Kageyama forced a crooked smile to comfort him. "Don't worry."

"I'm not worried." Hinata stubbornly replied, but when he noticed Kageyama's frown, he suddenly lowered his voice, "I… I think my throat’s not doing too well."

Kageyama immediately grabbed his hand, causing Hinata to jolt. Looking at his questioning gaze, Hinata's heart suddenly shattered into pieces. What should he do now? Kageyama was about to say something, but the stage lights had brightened, the MC's voice echoing as they called their group's name. There was no more time.

When they stepped onto the stage, the blinding light seemed to burn their pupils, the audience's cheers crashed like waves into their ears. Hinata took his position, heart pounding, trying to breathe to stay calm. He thought he could pull himself together to sing completely, to not waste the entire group's week of practice efforts.

But when his singing part came, and he raised his voice, the sound that emerged wasn't the clear singing voice he had practiced for days, but a thick, hoarse, weak sound, as if his voice was dissolving piece by piece. The audience fell silent for a second, then whispers began. Hinata felt the blood in his body freeze. "It’s over," he thought, his legs trembling, wanting to run away from the stage, leaving behind the music, leaving behind the feeling of failure that hadn't yet formed but was already painfully suffocating.

But then he felt Kageyama's gaze. Not a judging look, not disappointment, but a gentle reassurance, as if saying "You can do it." Hinata turned, catching those deep blue eyes like a lake surface without a ripple of waves, and in that moment, everything seemed to slow down. Kageyama had always been looking toward him throughout the entire performance.

When the next singing part came, Hinata's hoarse voice rang out again, but this time, Kageyama skillfully provided backing vocals, his voice deep and steady, filling the gaps that Hinata couldn't reach. The two voices harmonized, as if Kageyama was supporting Hinata, not letting him struggle alone before the sea of blinding lights ahead.

Hinata felt his eyes burning hot. But he still sang, still danced, still continued, though his heart was beating wildly like drums. When the performance ended, as the stage lights dimmed, and applause rang out from afar, he realized he had been trembling so much he could barely stand. Hinata almost collapsed to the ground, but a steady arm embraced him. The familiar blueberry scent filled his nose, making Hinata feel both pitiful and ashamed to the point of bursting into tears. Hot tears fell before he could hold them back, mixing with sweat and the hazy backstage lights.

"Hinata, breathe." Kageyama's voice rang out, low and gentle like comforting a bullied child. Hinata felt his eyelids growing heavier, and tears kept flowing from his tightly closed eyes. But before he could say anything, Kageyama had pulled him away from the stage, where the other group members were standing and waiting, some patting his shoulder, others just silently nodding.

Hinata hung his head low, not daring to look at anyone. He felt like an ink stain spreading on the group's perfect painting. "I ruined everything, the performance you wanted to prove to Oikawa-san, everyone's practice efforts too..." he thought, hands gripping the edge of his shirt tightly, trying to hold back the tears that were still threatening to overflow. He had tried, had shed sweat and tears to prove he belonged here, but all he managed was a disastrous performance.

"Hinata, I didn't try hard because I wanted to perform it again in front of Oikawa-san." Kageyama raised his hand to wipe away the tears that had soaked Hinata's small cheeks, "I tried hard because you believed in me, because there was a foolish Hinata who told me that my performance was really cool on the first day we met, because we stood on the same stage together. And you’ve done more than enough."

Hinata lifted his head, his reddened eyes still glistening with tears. He stared at Kageyama intently, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"But I... disappointed everyone. I couldn't sing like usual, I made the whole group worry..."

"You tried to stand on that stage despite having a fever, despite losing your voice. Not everyone could do that." Kageyama bent down, his voice deeper than usual, showing just how worried he was. His hand remained gently placed on Hinata's shoulder, holding him as if letting go would cause Hinata to collapse. "No one blames you. If anyone's to blame, it's me as the leader for not noticing sooner, for not protecting you better."

Hinata sniffled, unsure whether it was from being moved or because his nose was actually starting to get stuffy. Inside his chest, it felt like hundreds of taut strings had suddenly snapped all at once, leaving a suffocating emptiness. He suddenly felt strangely small, while Kageyama seemed so much larger, not just in stature, but in the way he quietly stood as a shield between Hinata and all that chaos.

Kageyama suddenly chuckled, pulling a neatly folded clean handkerchief from his pocket for Hinata to wipe his nose. Taking the handkerchief that still carried the scent of blueberries, Hinata felt both embarrassed and confused about why his heart was beating so fast.

"Idiot."

"You're the idiot..."

"Yeah. An idiot who likes someone even more idiotic than himself." Kageyama mumbled, his voice so quiet it was just loud enough for the two of them to hear.

Hinata's eyes widened, so flustered he forgot to wipe the mucus from his face. But before he could ask again, the backstage door burst open, and staff called out loudly: "Kageyama's group! Get ready for the backstage interview recording!"

Kageyama stood up first, extending his hand in front of Hinata like it was natural habit. "Let's go."

Hinata stared at that hand for a moment before taking it.

The backstage interview room was hastily set up with soundproof foam panels, the camera lights shining so brightly on their faces that Hinata had to squint several times to adjust. He still hadn't completely recovered from his fever, his face burning hot, both ears bright red, though it wasn't clear if it was from the recording lights or because he was still thinking about Kageyama's whispered words from earlier. Every time he remembered, his heart seemed to leap to his throat, wanting very much to hit Kageyama but lacking the strength to even lift his hand.

"What are the group's feelings after your first performance?" the staff member asked, her voice more cheerful than usual, probably because she knew this was one of the most memorable acts of the day.

The trainees in the group took turns answering. Some said they were so nervous they nearly fainted, others said they felt very happy to stand on a real stage, and another was so moved by how well the group worked together that they almost cried.

"What about you, Hinata?" The staff turned to him, the lens seemingly focused directly on his face, red as an unripe tomato.

"I..." Hinata stammered, his mind spinning like a pinwheel as his train of thought hadn't yet returned to normal. "I feel... very grateful... that everyone didn't leave me alone."

A moment of silence, some staff even chuckled at such an innocent answer, then the camera turned to Kageyama, who had been standing behind Hinata the whole time as if afraid he might fall backward at any moment. "And what about you, Kageyama? You handled the performance very calmly. What do you think about working with your teammates, especially Hinata?"

Kageyama didn't answer immediately. He just glanced at Hinata once, then looked straight into the camera.

"This is a very difficult song. But we practiced together a lot. Hinata tried very hard, and today he didn't run away. For me, that's more than enough." He paused, his gaze suddenly becoming much gentler. "The rest... I just did what needed to be done."

"Just did what needed to be done?" The staff laughed, "It seems like the audience's reaction to your group today exceeded expectations."

Hinata lowered his face, pretending to look at his shoes to hide the smile that kept automatically appearing. In his head, those words still echoed: 'I just wanted to stand on stage with you.' 'I tried hard for you.' What kind of person was not only handsome but also knew how to speak so well?

After the group questions, each person was invited to answer a few individual questions.

When it was Hinata's turn, he was led to a smaller, separate corner. The camera was closer, the lighting softer, but it didn't make him feel any less awkward. "Hinata, many viewers have sent supportive comments after your performance today. Is there anything you'd like to say to them?"

He looked straight into the lens. For a brief moment, the lights and noise seemed to fade away, leaving only the words he wanted to say rising from deep within his chest.

"I'm... not someone particularly special. My voice isn't good, my dancing technique is still lacking. I was even... running a fever today." He smiled slightly, as if teasing himself. "But I didn't run away because I knew... if I fell, someone would catch me. And if I stopped, I would never meet again those people who believed in me."

Hinata paused for a moment, then bowed his head: "Thank you for not taking your eyes off me, even for a little while."

He didn't say anything related to Kageyama, just softly smiled at the camera like a small puppy. But clearly the black-haired boy in the corner of the room couldn't help but smirk with amusement. Finally, the staff couldn't stand it anymore and quickly cut the interview short, bringing out a fever-reducing patch and a glass of orange juice, making him drink it all.

"You need to lie down, Hinata," one of the staff members scolded gently, voice both worried and stern. "Why didn’t you tell us you had a fever?" Hinata just smiled awkwardly, holding the glass of orange juice, feeling his head spinning as if he'd just gotten off a roller coaster. He politely asked permission to leave, stumbling toward the hallway leading to the dormitory, trying to keep himself conscious. Each step felt heavier, the dim light from the hallway lamps making his eyes sting.

Kageyama was probably still being interviewed, so Hinata didn't want to bother him anymore. He just wanted to return to his room, curl up under the blankets and forget about this disastrous day.

But fate didn't seem ready to let Hinata go yet. When he turned into a secluded corner of the hallway, where the weak lighting only illuminated a small area, he suddenly froze. In front of him was Oikawa Tooru, leaning against the wall, and Ushijima Wakatoshi, who was always serious like an emotionless machine, gently bending down to claim the lips of the person beneath him. Hinata stood stunned, eyes wide, forgetting even to breathe. He wanted to turn away as if he'd been caught doing something wrong, but his feet seemed glued to the floor.

"I told you. That kid will change soon enough, if he finds someone he likes."

Hinata stiffened, knowing Oikawa was talking about Kageyama, which wasn't hard to figure out at all. And even though he hadn't mentioned any names, Hinata still felt his heart skip a beat.

"Someone he likes."

Hinata had been leaning against the wall for a very long time, his heart beating irregularly, unable to calm down.

Does Kageyama... like him?

How many types of feelings in this world could make someone sit and watch you practice the same wrong move over and over with such patient and gentle eyes? How many types of feelings could make someone unconsciously keep their gaze locked on you throughout an entire performance? How many types of feelings could make someone quietly harmonize with each of your off-key notes, just to cover up your hoarse voice without hurting you further?

Hinata gripped his bag strap tightly, his hands cold while his heart burned like fire. He had never thought deeply about it before. Just like how Kageyama was always there beside him whenever he collapsed in the practice room, always the first to offer water when he was tired, always the one to sigh "what an idiot" but still take off his jacket to put around Hinata's shoulders when it was cold.

He had gotten so used to having Kageyama by his side that he'd never questioned the nature of their relationship.

Hinata bit his lip, feeling his face burn so hot it was unbearable. He didn't know what kind of feeling Kageyama had for him - was it like a friend, a teammate, or... something more? But whatever it was, his heart was trembling with such emotion that he wanted to cry.

No one had taught Hinata how to love, nor had anyone taught him what to do when he found out he might be the one someone secretly cared for. But amid all those uncertainties, he knew one thing: He didn't want to miss it.

Under the quiet, dim yellow lights of the hallway, Hinata looked up, taking a deep breath as if gathering all the courage of his entire life into a single moment.

Tomorrow... he would ask Kageyama. Or at least try, to find the answer for his heart that could no longer stop.

Yet no one remembered clearly what happened on that "tomorrow." Perhaps it was an urgent evaluation squeezed in between, an impromptu filming session, or a battle that exhausted them both so much they forgot the words they had prepared. And then day after day, those moments of wanting to speak gradually sank into the dense schedule, into the rhythmic counting of music, into the brief naps between practice sessions. Time didn’t rush. It moved quietly, like it knew something was growing but didn’t need a name just yet.

No one could clearly define which moment marked the step into a new chapter. But on the first morning when Hinata opened his eyes in the new dormitory, with the small room that had the group poster carefully pasted on the wall, fan mail boxes placed in front of the door, and performance shoes dusty from the stage, he knew one journey had closed. And another door had just been opened.

The schedule of newly debuted idols wasn't any lighter than before. But in a corner of the stage before the show, while the other members were busy adjusting their earpieces and discussing formation positions, Hinata and Kageyama still had the habit of standing next to each other. They didn't talk about anything particularly important, nor did they mention that day, that "tomorrow" that had receded further into the past than imaginable. They just stood beside each other, as if it had become a habit even before either of them realized it.

"Are you nervous?" Kageyama asked, his eyes still looking toward the stage ahead.

"Not really," Hinata replied, then shifted slightly closer. "But having someone standing nearby makes it much better."

Cheers began to ring out from the audience. The stage lights changed color, sparkling blue and white light shining on the still-empty stage. A manager called loudly from backstage, announcing that it was time.

Both of them made final adjustments to their clothes before going on stage. But just as they took their positions, before the familiar opening music, Kageyama turned and said something so quietly that only the two of them could hear:

"You still haven't asked."

Hinata tilted his head, the lights illuminating his straight nose bridge and fluttering eyelashes. "So are you ready to answer?"

Then the music began. Both of them stepped forward, as if everything was just the beginning.