Chapter Text
The gym was empty when Kageyama found him.
Not empty—Oikawa was there, sitting on the bleachers with his legs crossed, scrolling through his phone like he had all the time in the world. Like he hadn't just texted Kageyama ‘we need to talk’ at 10 PM on a Tuesday.
Kageyama stopped at the gymnasium door. His hand was still on the handle. He didn't step inside.
"Close the door, Tobio. You're letting the cold in."
Oikawa didn't look up from his phone.
Kageyama's jaw tightened. He stepped inside. Let the door swing shut behind him. The sound echoed in the empty gym—too loud, too final.
He walked to the bleachers. Stopped a few feet away. Didn't sit.
"What do you want?"
Oikawa finally looked up. His smile was the usual one—bright, easy, infuriating. The smile that said I know something you don't.
"Straight to the point as always. No 'how are you, Oikawa-san?' No 'it's been so long.'"
"You texted me at 10 PM."
"And you came." Oikawa's smile widened. "Interesting."
Kageyama's hands curled into fists at his sides. "If this is a joke—"
"It's not." Oikawa stood. He was taller than Kageyama—just barely, but he used it, stepping close enough that Kageyama had to tilt his head up to meet his eyes. "I want to make a deal."
"A deal."
"A partnership." Oikawa's voice dropped. Sarcasm bled out of it, leaving something sharper underneath. "You want Hinata. I want Iwa-chan. We help each other."
Kageyama stared at him.
He thought about saying no. He thought about turning around and walking out. He thought about how much he hated this man—the way he smiled, the way he talked, the way he'd never let Kageyama forget that he'd lost that match in middle school.
But Oikawa was right about one thing: Kageyama had come.
And he'd come because he was desperate.
"I don't need your help," Kageyama said.
"Really?" Oikawa tilted his head. "Then why haven't you told him yet?"
Kageyama's chest tightened. He didn't answer.
"Because you don't know how," Oikawa continued, his voice soft, almost kind. "You've never done this before. You don't know what to say. You're afraid that if you say it wrong—if you stumble, if you hesitate—he'll look at you differently. And you'd rather have him look at you like a partner than not look at you at all."
Kageyama's fists tightened. His nails bit into his palms.
"That's not—"
"It is." Oikawa's voice was flat. "I know because I'm the same. I've been in love with Iwa-chan since we were kids, and I've never said a word. Because saying it means risking everything. And I'd rather have him as a friend than not have him at all."
The silence between them stretched. The gym hummed with the quiet buzz of the fluorescent lights.
Kageyama looked away. He looked at the court, the lines worn from years of practice, the net still up from tonight's session.
"Why me?" he asked quietly.
Oikawa laughed—a short, humorless sound.
"Because you're the only one who understands. Loving someone who might not love you back. Watching them every day, waiting for a sign that never comes." He paused. "And because you're close to Hinata. You can give me information. In exchange, I'll teach you how to be someone worth loving."
Kageyama's head snapped back to Oikawa. "I don't need to be taught—"
"Don't you?" Oikawa's eyes were sharp. "You're cold. You're rigid. You don't know how to soften, how to let people in. Hinata is warmth and light and everything you're not. You think he's going to fall for you just because you exist in his orbit?"
Kageyama opened his mouth. Closed it.
He had no comeback.
Because Oikawa was right.
"I hate you," Kageyama said.
"I know." Oikawa smiled. "That's what makes this perfect."
They stood there. Oikawa was still too close, his presence filling the space between them like a challenge. Kageyama could smell his cologne—something clean and sharp, like citrus and cold water.
He stepped back. Created distance.
"What do you want me to do?"
Oikawa's smile softened—just a fraction, just enough for Kageyama to notice.
"Nothing yet. Just..." He paused. "Don't tell anyone about this. And don't punch me when I'm being insufferable."
"That's going to be hard."
"I know." Oikawa's eyes crinkled. "But you're going to try. For Hinata."
Kageyama looked at the court again. The net. The worn lines. The empty space where Hinata usually stood, bouncing on his toes, calling Kageyama's name with that ridiculous grin.
"Fine," he said.
Oikawa nodded. "Good."
He walked past Kageyama toward the door. His footsteps echoed. The gym felt smaller without him in it.
"Oikawa."
Oikawa stopped. Didn't turn around.
"If this is a trick—"
"It's not a trick, Tobio." His voice was quiet. "I may hate you. But I'm not cruel. And I know what it's like to want something you can't have."
He left.
Kageyama stood alone in the gym.
The fluorescent lights hummed. The net swayed slightly, disturbed by a draft from the open door.
He thought about Hinata. About the way he laughed, the way he jumped, the way he looked at Kageyama like he was the most important person in the room.
He thought about Oikawa. The sharpness in his eyes. The loneliness underneath the smile.
He didn't know what he'd just agreed to.
But he knew one thing:
He was already in too deep to back out.