Chapter Text
The gym feels alive today.
Hinata can feel it in the vibrations traveling up through the soles of his shoes, in the way the wooden floor hums beneath each landing and jump. Every time someone sprints past him, there’s a rush of displaced air against his skin; every time a ball strikes the court, the impact ripples through his legs.
It’s good.
It’s really good.
“Ooooh! Kageyama, look!” Hinata says quickly, fingers twitching in the air, voice bright and a little breathless as he lands from his spike. “I’m getting better!”
Kageyama barely has time to turn before the ball thumps against the floor behind him. He scowls, then clicks his tongue.
“You’re only getting better because I’m setting better,” he snaps, but there’s less bite in it than usual. He resets his stance anyway, hands already lifting. “Again.”
Hinata grins so hard his cheeks hurt.
They go again. And again. And again.
The freak quick isn’t perfect — it still isn’t — but it’s smoother than it was yesterday, and the day before that. Hinata’s timing is improving; he can feel it in his muscles, in the way his body reacts before his thoughts catch up. He doesn’t think about where Kageyama will put the ball anymore. His feet just move and the ball comes to him.
After the fourth successful spike in a row, Hinata bounces on the balls of his feet, barely containing himself.
“If I keep this up,” he says, gesturing wildly, “I’ll be Karasuno’s ace in no time!”
Across the net, Ennoshita blinks amused.
Narita’s mouth twitches.
Kageyama spins on Hinata so fast he nearly loses his footing. “Don’t jump around like an idiot!” he snaps, stepping forward to grab Hinata’s head.
Hinata hops back to avoid him.
Kageyama lunges. His foot catches on a stray bag by the bench.
The world tilts.
Hinata has just enough time to register Kageyama’s eyes widening before the setter crashes into him, their combined momentum sending them both down hard onto the floor.
Hinata’s back hits first. The impact knocks the air out of his lungs in a sharp, soundless oof. His head bumps lightly against the wood — not hard, but enough that white sparks briefly bloom behind his eyes.
For a second, everything feels distant.
Then weight presses down on his chest.
Tsukishima’s shoulders tense and Yamaguchi’s eyes go wide.
Kageyama groans, forearms braced on either side of Hinata’s shoulders. “Tch… that hurt.”
Hinata blinks up at him.
The sunlight streaming through the high gym windows catches his eyes, honey-like and amused and far too close. Kageyama’s breath stutters as he realizes just how little space there is between them — his knees pinning Hinata’s thighs, his hands planted near Hinata’s head.
“Kageyama,” Hinata manages, voice softer than he expects. “You’re… on me.”
Kageyama freezes.
His eyes snap back into focus. Realization dawns — followed immediately by horror.
He jerks backward so fast he nearly falls again, scrambling to his feet with a strangled noise, ears blazing red. “I-it’s your fault! Dumbass!”
Tsukishima snorts, the subtlelest of frowns over his black-rimed glasses. “Wow. Did the king finally trip over his own ego?”
Before Kageyama can retort, hands are on Hinata — gentle, careful.
Sugawara crouches beside him, eyes filled with worry. He doesn’t touch Hinata’s head right away; instead, he waits until Hinata meets his gaze.
“You okay?” Sugawara asks slowly, clearly, exaggerating his lip movements just a bit.
Hinata nods immediately. Too quickly. “Yeah! I’m fine!”
Sugawara’s eyebrows knit together. He lifts a hand, hesitates, then lightly cups Hinata’s cheek, tilting his head side to side to check his pupils. His other hand steadies Hinata’s shoulder, thumb rubbing small, unconscious circles through the fabric of his shirt.
Daichi appears just behind him, one broad hand settling firmly between Hinata’s shoulder blades — solid, grounding.
Hinata laughs, trying to ease the tension. “Really, Suga-san, I promise. I didn’t even see stars.”
Sugawara exhales shakily, relief softening his face — but he doesn’t pull away right away. “Don’t run around like that,” he scolds, voice gentle but firm. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Yes, mum,” Hinata replies automatically.
The words are out before he can stop them.
The gym stills for half a second.
Hinata’s eyes widen. He clamps his hands over his mouth, mortified. His gaze flicks up to Sugawara, panic flashing across his face as he hastily shakes his head. “I mean—! I didn’t— I’m sorry!”
Sugawara blinks.
Then his face turns pink.
“M-mum?” he repeats, sputtering softly. He clears his throat, trying — and failing — to hide his smile. “I’m not that old, Hinata.”
Yamaguchi laughs silently from across the court, shoulders shaking. Daichi’s mouth curves upward, his hand giving Hinata’s back a reassuring squeeze before pulling away.
Tanaka barks out a laugh “Nice, Suga-mama!”.
The libero’s laugh escapes unashamedly, his palm meeting Tanaka’s back with force. “Bahahaha bro!”
Sugawara groans, pressing his hands to his face. “Please don’t make this a thing.”
Hinata peeks through his fingers, relieved when Sugawara looks more embarrassed than upset — and, strangely, a little proud.
Practice resumes soon after.
Hinata throws himself back into drills with renewed energy, cheeks still warm but heart light. He’s playing well today — really well. Even when he messes up a receive and the ball ricochets off his arms at a bad angle, he bounces back quickly, adjusting his stance, trying again.
He belongs here. He can feel it.
During a short break, someone — Tanaka, maybe — gestures vaguely toward Hinata and jokes, “Careful, or you’ll have to beat our current ace at this rate.”
Hinata blinks. “Oh, right! The ace.” He brightens instantly. “When’s he coming back?”
The reaction is… strange.
Nishinoya’s grin falters. His shoulders drop a fraction.
Sugawara looks away, fingers tightening around his water bottle.
Daichi’s expression doesn’t change much, but his jaw sets.
Hinata notices all of it.
“I mean,” Hinata continues, smile a little more tentative now, “I’ve been told he’s really strong.”
Nishinoya nods quickly. Too quickly. “Y-yeah! He is. The strongest.”
There’s a pause.
Hinata doesn’t push. Instead, he beams. “Then I’ll just have to work even harder!”
That seems to help. Nishinoya perks up almost instantly.
“Exactly!” he blurts enthusiastically before speaking again. “If you wanna improve your receives, I can help you! You’ve got guts, but your form needs work.”
Hinata’s eyes light up. “Really? Thanks, Noya-senpai!”
The rest of practice passes in a blur — but the unease lingers, like a pebble in Hinata’s shoe.
⋯⋯⋯ 𓅪 ⋯⋯⋯
Afterward, near the end of practice, in the storage room, Yamaguchi frowns down at a cracked broom leaning against the wall.
“This thing’s dangerous,” he mouths. “We should throw it away.”
“No!”
Sugawara steps in front of it so abruptly Yamaguchi nearly jumps. He grabs the broom, holding it close to his chest. “It can still be fixed.”
Nishinoya freezes mid-motion. The usual sparkle in his eyes is gone.
The air feels tight.
Daichi reaches out and rests a steady hand on Sugawara’s shoulder — not pulling him back, not forcing him to move. Just there.
Sugawara exhales and loosens his grip slightly.
Hinata watches, heart sinking.
Something is wrong.
⋯⋯⋯ 𓅪 ⋯⋯⋯
When practice ends, as Hinata heads toward the exit, he spots Daichi waiting by the doors.
“Daichi-san?” Hinata asks.
Daichi turns, surprised, then smiles. “What’s up?”
Hinata fidgets with the hem of his shirt. “I was just… wondering if Suga-san and Noya-san are okay.”
Daichi’s smile fades, just a little.
“They will be,” he says after a moment. “Once our ace comes back.”
Hinata nods.
As he walks home, the gym’s vibrations still echo faintly in his legs — but the warmth from earlier has cooled into something thoughtful.
He doesn’t know the full story yet.
But he’s going to find out.