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Their first meeting is in the finals of the Spring High Tournament.
The air is heavy and thick with tension, the gym filled with the heat of competition and timeless rivalries. The teams stared at each other with their breathing shallow and ragged and sweat washing over them. Both teams were high-strung, their match like a taut rubber band that was prone to snapping at any point; they just wanted this fifth match to be done with, to collapse to the wooden floor from all of the exertion.
Hinata couldn’t feel his legs anymore, the pain from passing his limits had turned into a numb buzzing in his head, and the redness of his palms were only a future reminder of the welts he’d see tomorrow; he winces at the thought for a moment before shaking his head. His eyes dart everywhere to everyone on both sides of the court, watching their own bodies struggling to breathe, struggling to win.
He squats, a tiny hiss escaping him as he does, and the familiar, booming voice of Daichi rings in his ear; it’s only a ringing, though. He can’t hear anything he’s saying, but he can see that despite the grimace on his expression and the pained breathing, there’s fire in his eyes and conviction stronger than steel. His teammates see it it too, so he turns around and wills the pain to go away for just a little bit longer.
He clenches his teeth when footsteps join the ringing in his ears, each step loud and confident in a sea of silent worry and hesitation; their face is blank, apathetic, but he knows that the same fire and resolve his teammates held existed in the newcomer. He held the world in his hands, but he didn’t buckle at all, only stood straight with a will to win.
Semi eyes the front row, breath slightly hitching for a brief moment at the sight of the decoy’s intense gaze on him; but he still sneers at the brown pair of eyes, competition driving him further and boiling his blood despite the chill that momentarily shook his body.
The next few minutes go by in a blur. The slap of the skin and volleyball mingled with the cheers from the crowd and the yelling of both teams; the volleyball is his only priority, his teammates figures becoming blurrier and blurrier until they’re unrecognizable and the ball is heading straight to their side. His moment of clarity is when the ball bounces off of their side of the court, and the once-blurry figures turn clear.
The buzzer sounds, and it's loud .
Their eyes catch each other’s again. Semi is surrounded by the sad quietness of his team, the sound of Goshiki’s sobs muffled as he sobbed onto Shirabu’s shoulders, and the coach’s own silent defeat; Hinata is the opposite, his team lifting him up to surround him a tight hug, warm and loving, as they yell out cheers and laugh at his red face.
There’s only 60 feet between them, from one side of the court to the other; 60 feet of mostly empty space, occupied only by the figures of each team and the emotions that hung in the air; 60 feet littered with the cries of joy and depression, of victory and defeat.
Only 60 feet separated them, but it was far too much.
Semi is the first to turn away, ignoring the burning of Hinata’s gaze on his neck and the burning of his cheeks as anger started to boil inside him.
--
Their second meeting is at the grocery store in the middle of their town.
It’s unexpected, and the chances slim, but the Karasuno decoy recognizes the hairdo immediately. Hinata doesn’t bother trying to hide his shock, eyes widening beyond belief as he nervously sputtered out incomprehensible words, cheeks flushing red as Semi turned around to look at what the fuss was.
Just like last time, their eyes catch onto each other’s. Except, it feels like a new experience, akin to being dropped into a bucket of icy water and letting the cold shock seep into the deepest part of your bones.
Yet instead of standing on opposite sides of the courts, of opposite halves of a game, they’re lamely standing together on the same side of the aisle. They both know they look dumb, gazes locked onto the other’s face and the hand reaching for a bag of shitty ships becoming forgotten; it isn’t until Semi coughs awkwardly, cheeks still a brilliant red — which he blames on the cold air blasting from the meats and seafood section nearby — that they snap out of their trance.
“S-Semi-senpai! Y-You’re here?!” Hinata’s voice is squeaky and slightly frightened, body looking as if it was ready to run at any given moment; and while Semi is usually proud of managing to look intimidating — after all, it was rare that happened in Shiratorizawa — he thinks that maybe wasn’t the time to act like a scary douche to the poor kid.
So he tries to be nice, trying to smile at Hinata. “Uh, hey, Hinata,” he awkwardly greets back only for the smaller male to yelp, jumping back with his arms in a defensive position.
“Please don’t attack me or crush to get revenge on me from our last match! I’m sorry, but I still need my body for volleyball!”
Hinata’s voice is bordering on panicked, slowly raising in volume as Semi’s own self started to panic with him; his apathetic façade is still intact thankfully, but the tiny kid is still terrified, he’s absolutely useless in any situations except volleyball (actually, now that he’s think about it, volleyball included), and he can hear the footsteps of probably a worker getting louder.
In a frenzy of possible outcomes running in his head, he makes a split second decision that he’ll probably regret later.
He grabs Hinata’s hand, and he runs, tugging him farther away from the scene until all he hears is the confused grunts of an employee. He leans against the shelf filled with condiments, avoiding touching any of the ones in glass containers and also avoiding the sight of a shocked Hinata in front of him; he quickly pulls his hand away from him, feeling his neck burn as he realized how much he enjoyed holding his hand.
“Oh, uhm, Semi?” Hinata’s voice is quiet now, tone gentle and wary. “Are you okay?”
“What?”
He shrugged, looking away from his face. “It’s just I ended up making a scene, and I’m really sorry for that! But y’know, are you okay from the whole match result...thing?” The decoy cringes at how pathetic he is with words.
Semi scrunches his face into a sort of grimace at the mention, but he just sighs and waves a hand before the orange-haired male could start screaming again. He shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pocket before replying with a breezy, “I don’t care.”
“W-What? What do you mean you don't care? Isn’t volleyball something you love?”
The older male groans, eyes shifting to the side as his expression turns pained. “Yeah, look, I love it, but my high school career is over. It’s been over ever since Shirabu became a starter setter...over me.”
It’s silent for a moment, and he’s slightly worried he’s said too much to the equivalent of a stranger; so he shrugs, sighs again, and opens his mouth to say something else.
“Look, it’s fine, Hinata. Jus–”
“Join me,” Hinata interrupts, gaze steely and voice unwavering; Semi is frozen in shock at the sudden change. “Join me and Karasuno in our practice matches. Or just...practice with me? Please?” His tone turns pleading.
Semi clenches his teeth, mind whirring as he tried to think about the offer; he’s tempted to, he really is, but months of self-deprecation and constant comparisons to other setters is holding him back. He doesn’t want to hold Hinata back either after watching his performance at the Inter-High finals.
“I really can’t accept the offer. It’s nice of you to ask, but, I don’t want to hold you back.” His voice is laced with bitterness and a sharp edge as he closed his eyes, hands curling into fists.
“...so? Doesn’t that just make you want to be better then?” Semi’s eyes fly open, watching as Hinata tilts his head. “The setter is the backbone of the team, the control tower, and y’know all that jazz every coach tells you. If you still really love it, you’ll keep trying to be better.”
A pause.
“Sorry if I’m being nosey, I guess? I get like that sometimes, but I don’t like it when people just give up. But, hey, if you don’t come for your own practice, can you at least help me with my serves? Your serves are really powerful and fast, and just gwah !”
Semi is left speechless as the boy started to ramble again, all hints of seriousness and fear from before suddenly dissipating. He still doesn’t know for sure if he wants to join in with Karasuno’s practice, but as his lips curl into a small smile, he thinks he knows what the answer would be in the future.
“Thanks, Hinata. I’ll think about it.” He bites back a small chuckle. “I have to go pay for my groceries now, though. Bye, you little shrimp,” he says, ruffling the orange mess of hair on his head, before leaving.
Hinata’s cheeks are flushed again, his own goodbye stuck in his throat.
He can’t deny that there was still an empty space between them, only much smaller from the 60 feet that had separated them on the court, from each other.
This time, there’s only 30 feet; the distance from one end to the other of the aisle that they had ended up running into each other. Hinata’s hand clutches at the fabric over his heart, wondering silently if he was content with 30 feet of emptiness between them.
--
The third time they meet is at Karasuno’s gym; it becomes home to their future meets.
Semi ends up accepting the decoy’s offer, and it becomes a routine for the two of them for weeks.
The Karasuno team had accepted him with open arms after Hinata defended him, his voice filled with so much stubborn kindness that even his own team was shocked; Semi just thanks him quietly, giving a lopsided smile in return.
Even so, while he loved the feeling of belonging to a team again — even if it was temporary — and how all of the members treated him as if he was a skilled setter, a worthy one, nothing compared to the after practice hours that only he and Hinata shared; there was something about the tiny crow that made every set, every play, and every receive seem so much more, no matter how small it actually was.
He made him remember his love for volleyball and its true depth.
With his time at Shiratorizawa, the setter had spent too much time wallowing in his envy and self-deprecation; he had forgotten the warm feeling of hearing the loud slap of a palm against the ball, of hearing the thudding landing of a successful spike, and having his spiker look to him with that genuine grin and shimmering look in their eyes.
And then when he served, god , he could feel his own heart beat in a excitement and his blood pump to the same beat. Power seeps into his serve, and it flies past everything, taking with it Hinata’s breath and leaving him with a warm, awed gaze; pride sinks into the marrow of his bones, and love curling into the nerves within his systems.
And as he held the volleyball up, too high for Hinata to reach and Hinata being too tired to jump for it, Semi could feel his laughter bubble up in his throat; it felt so warm and true, his eyes started to tear up before he wiped them away and he gave a half smile.
“Looks like your jumps still aren’t a match for my height,” he teased, his cocky, playful self returning instead of his usual angry, competitive self.
He knows Hinata doesn’t care that much about his height anymore when he joked about it, that he was comfortable enough to let Semi prod at something that had cursed him for years and only react with a joking pout shifting into a full-blown grin.
Semi finds that he can’t help but grin along with Hinata, his heart warming up at the thought that his spiker, his ace, trusted him .
With this revelation, the 1 hour long practices turns into something more, spending their extra hours just laughing and joking on their own way home; but those times turn into lazing around at the foothills store, eating the last of the meat buns together until the streets were dark and empty, the street lights bright, but not as much the person that sat in front of them.
With every moment they spent together, the gleam in their eyes become more and more vivid with something they can’t pinpoint exactly, but could acknowledge at least.
Until Semi, finally realizes that, yes, this is love.
Even so, they’re 5 feet away, and it’s still too far of a stretch, too much of a risk for Semi to reach out and hold Hinata tightly, even if it’s only for a moment before he pulls away; and for Hinata, he’s too terrified that he won’t reach Semi despite there being only 5 feet between them, that his outstretched hand would only be left alone and therefore, so would he.
It’s only 5 feet, their hearts hurting and yearning for each other, but they keep their mouth shut; the space between suddenly felt larger, like it was back to the 60 feet that had separated them on the court, heavy with their emotions idly hanging in the air.
--
And then it happens, on the nth time they meet, back where it all began.
Hinata’s legs were aching again, hand moving to wipe the sweat off of his forehead. He can’t hear Daichi’s strong voice anymore or the comforting, yet supporting yells of Sugawara or the power radiating from Asahi, but he knows that they’re here; not only mentally or emotionally, but physically too. They’re just not on the court anymore, but that’s fine, they’re fine.
Everything plays in slow motion after the opposing team’s serve. It’s not powerful at all or tricky either, so he starts running immediately, hearing the faint smack of the ball hitting Nishinoya’s arms. Then it’s the whizzing of the ball flying over him, the brief glimpse of it from the corner of his eyes, and it’s done, it’s over.
He thanks someone or something out there for not letting him collapse onto his knees when the crowd goes wild. With a bleary blink, he lamely waves at the small group that sat at the front of Karasuno’s cheering section; now he could hear Daichi’s booming voice, Suga’s yelling, and Asahi’s compliments.
But he shifts his gaze to the seat behind him, frowning at the emptiness of it; he knew that playing Shiratorizawa would mean a split within Semi, but he can’t deny some of the hurt filling in his chest. He puts it off for a moment, though, mouth opening to ask if they knew where the setter had gone.
Except, someone had beaten him to it.
“I’m right here, you shrimp.”
Hinata turns, and he feels himself throw caution to the wind, running into Semi’s arms, managing to stop himself from collapsing until the very last moment. He can feel the warmth of his protective embrace, burying his nose at the nap of Semi’s neck, murmuring any words he could find.
The setters curls his own body around Hinata’s, throat starting to close up as tears threatened to spill as Hinata let out all of the words he had been wanting to say; Semi knows that Hinata isn’t high on the feeling of victory or exhaustion, and that all of the words were so fucking fond and sincere, coming from the very recesses of his heart.
So he returns those words, and they clutch onto each other tighter.
There’s nothing in between them now; bodies wrapped up so far into each other physically that they shared the exact same space. Yet emotionally and mentally, they had been with each other for a long time.
There was no more court to divide them, no need for 60 feet of tension between them; no need for awkward meetings 30 feet from each other at the snacks aisle; and definitely no more need for 5 feet of the heavy air filled with unsaid emotions that had torn at them for months.
So, Hinata pulls away and presses a soft kiss against Semi’s, thinking about how he was all his; and Semi, all he could think about how he had his own spiker, his own ace, his own lover that trusted him.
He crumpled to the floor with Hinata, his own emotions too much to handle. Even through the teariness of his eyes, he grinned at Hinata, gaze so fucking in love.
--
“There’s no more need for empty spaces between us.”