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They say that it doesn't matter what kind of wings you have.
“Even a man with the wings of a dove might have the heart of a hawk!", the bus ads blast, bright colours illustrating a stylized man with fluffy songbird plumage standing beside a woman with the broad wings of a raptor, both of them helping to hold up the sun.
It's true, theoretically. You’re not allowed to discriminate against people because of their feathers, and there's plenty of scientific studies that say your wings don’t define your personality, but… well. Kageyama can hear what people say about him behind his back when they see what he carries on his shoulders.
"Are you sure he's normal?"
Most people have wings in charming, neutral shades of grey or brown or taupe.
"Mommy, he scares me!"
Some special people have colourful plumage in white or yellow or red, but they're just as rare and coveted as natural blondes.
"Look at that! It’s like he rolled in dirt!"
Black, though, that isn’t favoured or common. Why would it be? Most black birds are unlucky, after all.
Oh, there are a couple of idols nowadays who have grackle or starling plumage - wings that look dark, but shatter purple-green-blue in the light - but they’re rare and they always have piercings and mohawks and strange views on death and blood and things that Kageyama doesn’t care about.
Still, their existence means that if Kageyama keeps his wings flat to his back, he can pass for mostly normal (“Counterculture”, hisses a grandmother at the store) when he walks around in public.
Of course, if he startles, flutters even a bit... well. It becomes obvious that there's something not right. Everyone knows what swan wings look like (every prince in every tale has them). And everyone knows that swans are supposed to have white wings, not black.
Kageyama tells himself that he doesn't care. So what if people veer away from him when they walk? So what if he still has to ask his mother to groom his feathers because no one else wants to? On the court, all the players strap into sport harnesses and their backs become the same under their jerseys. He can still set a ball better than anyone, and that’s all that matters.
But just because he doesn't care about his wings doesn't mean that he wants to tell everyone in high school. They don't have to know. That's what he'd thought when he started at Karasuno, with its wing-covering uniform (Some call the gakuran style a little old-fashioned, but he calls it a relief). He'd decided to keep his wings in and tell no one, not even his team.
That was before he'd met Hinata.
Hinata, who drives him up the wall. Hinata who has so much potential. Hinata who hits his toss again and again, and the utter brilliance of that makes Kageyama forget himself for the first time.
The ball goes high, up, up, up over the net, and instinctively, Kageyama jumps to go get it back. His wings snap through the slits of his practice jersey to add lift to his leap, and he's weightless for one perfect moment before he remembers that he has to hide.
He hates his mother for telling him not to wear the harness today. What does he care if his wings don't grow right? He'd cripple himself to keep Hinata from looking at him like a freak.
"You..."
Kageyama glares as hard as he can, arms folded over his chest. He curls his wings around himself protectively - now that the secret is out, he doesn't care to pull them back in.
"Yeah, I have black wings! They’re swan wings and they’re black. Wanna make something of it?"
And of course, Hinata does exactly the opposite of what Kageyama expects him to.
"We match!", he shouts with a joyous skip-hop as he spreads his own arms and pitch black wings to their full span.
They're not the same as Kageyama's - sleek and glossy, without the fluffy down of a waterbird. When they get close to Kageyama's, though, it's hard to tell where one set of feathers ends and the others begin. Kageyama goes stock still, afraid that if he twitches, he might hit Hinata in the face.
"You're... You have crow wings. You came to Karasuno with crow wings on your back."
"Yeah! It's pretty cool, right? My mom says that I was meant to come here!" Hinata's wings flutter excitedly, flipping his hair into a wild tumble. "But, I mean. Yours are huuuuuge!"
He ruffles Kagayama's feathers without any hesitation, and Kageyama has utterly no idea what to do, because what the hell is Hinata Shouyou even? No one touches Kageyama's (ugly, filthy, awful) wings.
"Aaaah, and they're so soft!"
Hinata grins, bright against the black background of their feathers.
“You’re so cool!”
The volleyball is tucked under his arm, forgotten, but Kageyama feels like he is flying.