Chapter Text
Sunny boy, where’d you go?
Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio are not friends.
This is something Shouyou has always known, of course, and has always followed through on. Kageyama Tobio has been, and always will be, a self-centered, dictatorial, selfish little boy, through and through. He’s rude, for one thing, and Shouyou doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kageyama smile.
Kageyama refuses to set to him too, which only pisses Shouyou off. That being said, Shouyou was pissed off from the second he entered the gym and discovered that the brat he vowed to destroy was attending the same high school as him. How could he defeat someone who was on the same side of the net?
As it turned out, Kageyama was also set on destroying Shouyou’s life by being the biggest jerk ever— and, even though the days passed and they began to tolerate one another, they never became friends.
Friends were people Shouyou enjoyed being around, people like Yamaguchi and Kenma, and Bokuto-san. Kageyama was not a friend to Shouyou, not in the slightest. Sure, maybe he was an ally and a partner, but he was not a friend. Shouyou hesitates to even call him an acquaintance.
Kageyama is mean to him. Kageyama only uses him when it’s necessary. How can someone like that be a friend?
But, if Kageyama is not a friend, then why does it hurt so much to say goodbye?
Shouyou sits down on the sofa of the shared living space in the MSBY Jackals dorm. He clutches an envelope in his hand and rubs his socked feet against the carpet. Bokuto-san and Atsumu-san, two of his closest friends, sit next to him.
“Go ahead, Shou-kun. Open it!”
Two years in Brazil prepared Shouyou for a lot of things. It taught him patience. It taught him respect. It even taught him gratitude.
He is ready for this next phase of his life plan.
Shouyou takes a deep breath and slides his finger under the envelope. He unfolds the letter and begins to read it out loud.
“Dear Hinata-san, thank you for your consideration for the MSBY Black Jackals. We appreciate your time and efforts to try out for our team. Unfortunately...” Shouyou’s voice slips away as he scans the rest of the letter. We regret to inform you that we cannot offer you a spot on the team at this time.
“What?” Atsumu says, his eyebrows knitting together. He yanks the letter out of Shouyou’s hands and scans it quickly. “You gotta be kiddin’ me right now. You didn’t make it on? How? Yer’ one of the best players in Japan!”
“I’m so sorry, Shou-kun,” says Bokuto. He’s frowning too.
Shouyou is frozen in his spot on the sofa. His throat is burning, but he’s suppressing his need to cry. This can’t be happening. He was supposed to make it on! What was the point of going to Brazil to train if he came back to Japan only to fail?
This wasn’t part of the plan. He was supposed to join the Jackals, play for a few years, and then try out for an international team. How can he go international if he can’t even make it onto a national team?
“I’m gonna talk to Coach Foster. This is ridiculous! Why would he say no? I don’t believe it!”
“It’s okay,” Shouyou spits out. “You guys don’t have to—”
“I’m coming with you!” Bokuto interrupts with a fist in the air. “We’ll fight for you, Shou-kun! You deserve to be on this team!”
“Surely he sent out the wrong letter or somethin’, so I’m gonna make sure—”
“Please, stop!” He curls his fists at his sides as he shouts over Atsumu and Bokuto. The need to cry burns even more. “I don’t need you guys to make excuses for me. It’s fine.”
“But... don’t you want to know why?” Bokuto asks.
“Yeah,” Atsumu agrees. “We could at least getcha a chance to talk to him.”
Shouyou nods. He clears his throat and hurriedly wipes at the few tears that managed to escape.
Coach Foster isn’t a scary man. He’s American, for one thing, with blonde hair and bushy eyebrows. His Japanese is fairly well too, so he must have been living here for a while now. Shouyou doesn’t know much else about him, though.
“Hinata-san,” Foster says as Hinata sits down across from him. They are in his office, which is decorated with pictures of his family and the past teams he’s worked for. There is also a tiny American flag in his pen holder. “How can I help you?”
“I was wondering why I wasn’t accepted.”
“Ah.” He shifts some papers to the side and rests his arms on top of his desk. “I was curious you might ask. Bokuto-san and Miya-san both claimed I was making a terrible mistake.”
“I told them not to do that. Sorry, sir.”
“It isn’t your fault. Truth be told, Hinata-san, I like you a lot as a person, but I don’t think you’re ready for a division one team yet.”
Shouyou’s stomach starts churning. He glances at the door and forms an escape route just in case he needs to go to the bathroom.
“Your time in Brazil wasn’t for nothing. That I’m certain of. Your receives need some work, but they are decent, and your hits are powerful. But you lack reserve, and you lack skill.”
He frowns. “I don’t think so. I learned how to be resourceful back in Brazil.”
“And I don’t doubt that, but you rely too much on your athleticism. Being fast and strong is not enough to make it in the professional world. You need to be methodical. You need to be quick on your feet, to make a decision in a split second. You need to be able to carry your own.”
“I can do all of those things! Please, sir. If you give me a chance, I promise I can prove to you that I’m capable of playing.”
Coach Foster sighs. He plucks his glasses off his nose and rubs at his eyes. “Hinata-san, I understand your frustration, but there are things I as a coach am looking for. We’re looking for an opposite hitter to fill in for Barnes, and Barnes is our tallest player by far. I can’t have someone who doesn’t even pass 180 centimeters.”
“But I can—”
“Jump, yes. I get that. But what happens when you no longer can?”
Shouyou is quiet.
“I think you have potential. Really, I do. And if no one has signed you by the time we’re open for tryouts again, I’ll consider you further. For now, I need you to get more experience, perhaps with a lower-level team, and move on from there..”
“A lower-level team?” Shouyou asks, stunned. He knows what it means, of course. How could he not? That much is obvious. Foster thinks he should move to part-time, to the smaller teams with less money and… and not the best athletes.
He’s panicking. No. The plan was to come back and play with the best athletes. He would spend two years in Japan and then try out for international teams.
“Hinata-san?” Coach Foster is watching him closely. “Are you okay?”
Shouyou vomits.
It’s fair that he’s promptly removed from the office and the gym. Shouyou takes the train back to Miyagi with a heavy heart and tears threatening to spill over the entire ride home. It’s a long ride, too, nearly four hours, and it gives him plenty of time to think through what his next move will be. The Jackals weren’t the only team hosting tryouts, but they surely were the best. He could try out for the Rockets; if his memory is correct, Goshiki from Shiratorizawa is on that team. They are based out of… well, he’s not sure, but he can figure it out. Oh! Or he could try out for EJP. They are close to Tokyo, in the Nagano prefecture.
But… What if he gets rejected from those teams too? What if he gets rejected from every team holding tryouts right now and everyone holds that against him? Shouyou will be blacklisted and no team will ever want to sign him.
The Sendai Frogs could be an option. They are close by and could be his way into the division one leagues. If Tsukishima plays for them, then surely Shouyou could too, right?
That’s the thought, at least.
Except they aren’t accepting new players right now, which does put a hole in his plans. Maybe he could at least make himself known to the coach, who could spread the word and make it known that Hinata Shouyou is open and ready for business.
This is fine. It’s a plan B, an option he didn’t even know he had to prepare for. Now that he knows about it, he can still make his way back to plan A.
His mother tries to ask questions about his tryout, but Shoyou ignores her. He ignores his sister too and makes his way straight to his childhood bedroom to write out a plan. He creates some semblance of a resume, researches what time the Frogs meet for practice, and goes on his way.
The first person he runs into is Tsukishima Kei. It’s been a while since they’ve seen each other— three years, in fact. His hair is longer and he’s changed the style of his glasses. He’s almost… handsome, in a weird way, but Shouyou would never (emphasis on never) admit that to his stupid face.
Tsukishima does a double-take. “Hinata?”
“Uh, hey! Hi, Tsukishima!” Shouyou smiles wide and tightens his grip on his jacket. Despite it being Spring, the air is still chilly. “Heading to practice?”
“Yes. What are you doing in Sendai? I thought you were in Osaka.”
“Oh, well, I was, but uhm, I uh, realized that I didn’t want to be so far away from my family yet, so I came back here.”
He raises an eyebrow and a smirk rises to his lips. “You didn’t make the team, did you?”
“I didn’t say that! Of course I made the stupid team! I chose to come back home!”
“What, and try out for a team that isn’t even holding tryouts?”
Shouyou frowns. “I just thought maybe I could put myself on the radar, you know? In case… in case your team does hold tryouts in the future.”
“Hinata, no offense, but I never want to play on the same team as you again.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because you’re obnoxious.” Tsukishima holds the door open for Shouyou as they enter the building. “Now, I’m sure to some people that isn’t an issue, and if you had made it onto the Black Jackals, Boukto-san and Miya-san surely would have loved how annoying you are, because they are equally annoying, but we aren't like that here, and I’m especially not like that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m saying teams have vibes. You do understand that word, don’t you? Vibes?”
“Of course I do!”
“Wonderful. Why don’t you go try out for a different division one team? I’m sure you’d do fine. Besides, I’m sure his majesty would be satisfied to know he has a chance to play against you.”
Shouyou narrows his eyes at the mention of Kageyama but elects to ignore it. “Because only two other teams are offering tryouts and I don’t want to look like an idiot if I fail those too.”
Tsukishima stops right outside the locker room. “Why didn’t they let you on?”
Shouyou swallows his need to cry. “He said… he said I didn’t have enough experience yet. And that… I can’t rely on jumping high, especially if I want to play as a spiker.”
“Once again, your height has come back to bite you in the ass.”
“This isn’t funny, Tsukishima.” Shouyou looks sternly at him. “Please don’t say anything to the group chat. I don’t want them to know. At least not yet.”
“So what are you going to do when they want to see you play and realize you aren’t actually on the team?”
“It won’t get to that point, I promise. I just… I need time to process this, okay? It really sucks and I don’t know how to deal with it. Volleyball is my life. That's all I want to do. And if I can’t find a team to play with, what do I do then?”
“Get a job like the rest of us?” Tsukishima suggests. “This isn’t my full-time job. I work at the history museum. Or go back to get your degree. Even if you play with us, it isn’t going to be a full-time gig. What would you do the other fifty percent of the time?”
“It’s a stepping stone,” Shouyou tries. Tsukishima shrugs.
“I won’t tell anyone until it gets to the point where I start looking like a jerk for not telling the truth.”
Shouyou sighs with relief. “Thank you. Is your coach inside?”
“Yeah, but you really shouldn’t just—” Tsukishima is interrupted by Shouyou pushing past the gym doors. “Hinata, come on!”
The coach of the Sendai Frogs is a woman. She’s petite, middle-aged, with wrinkles on her forehead and crow's feet around the corners of her eyes. Her expression doesn’t change, even when Shouyou marches up to her and bows.
“Sorry for the intrusion!” He announces, pulling his resume out of his pocket. “My name is Hinata Shouyou! I recently returned from a two-year training in Brazil for beach volleyball and I am interested in playing for your team!”
She stares at him. “We are not accepting new players at the moment.”
“I understand that, but I thought maybe… you could keep me in mind?” He passes his resume forward, which the coach glances down at.
“Did you bring me a resume for a sports tryout?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
A chuckle leaves her lips, which doesn’t make Shouyou feel good in the slightest. He steps back and offers another respectful bow.
“Thank you for this, uh…”
“Hinata!”
“Hinata-san. I’ll give you a call when we open tryouts. For now, I have to start practice. Perhaps you should check in with the adult league at the rec center down the street?”
Shouyou blinks. “The rec league?”
“Yes. They meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays. They are similar to the neighborhood leagues throughout Miyagi. You should give them a try.”
“Oh. Yeah, okay. Thank you.”
One bow later, Shouyou hurries out of the gym. He swears he hears players laughing at him.
He gets messages from his old Karasuno teammates asking about his position with the Jackals. They want to know when they’ll get to see him play.
Shouyou doesn’t have the heart to tell them it won’t be anytime soon.
He’s only been back in Japan for a month now. Maybe even a little over a month, if he thinks hard about it. His mother wants him to get a job. Shouyou doesn’t know how to tell her that he would rather do anything else.
“It can be something small,” she suggests while cleaning up after dinner one evening. Shouyou is helping her dry the dishes. “Maybe delivering food or stocking fridges at a grocery store.”
“Yeah, but…” He trails off. It isn’t going to matter what he says, is it?
“What?”
“What if I have a tryout or something? And I have to leave?”
“I’m sure any job would be willing to work around that, but Shouyou, you haven’t even tried since you got rejected from the Jackals. And while I understand that was hard on you, you also need to try and bounce back. You could try out for other teams, or join the rec league you were told about. There’s even the old neighborhood association league you could join. You have other options when it comes to volleyball, ones that could lead you to your goal.”
Shouyou stares at the plate in his hands. It shakes, just like the rest of his body, and he feels sick to his stomach.
“Am I stupid to think I could make it first try?”
His question is barely a whisper, but his mother hears him nonetheless. She shuts the sink off and turns to look at her son. “Of course not, baby.” Shouyou falls into her arms. All the past days of holding in tears, of pretending something so life-changing did not bother him, spill onto her blouse. She strokes his hair gingerly, softly, to calm him down.
“Shouyou, you are so strong and so brave. You know that, don’t you?” He pushes further into her shirt. “There are so many people out there that would never dare to do what you do, and just because you didn’t succeed on the first try does not mean you’ll never succeed again. Rejection is a part of life, a part of the human experience. Success rarely comes to those on the first try. Think about our leaders—”
“I’m not trying to be a leader, mom. I’m trying to do what I love for a living and it sucks that people keep telling me I’m not good enough! The coach for the Sendai Frogs laughed at me! They are division two, anyways; she doesn’t have that right!”
“I’m sure she wasn’t laughing at you, sweetie.”
“I’m just pissed off.” Shouyou paws at his face. “We saved up all that money so I could go to Brazil and train. Now, look where I am! Was all of that pointless?”
“Do you feel like it helped you?”
“I thought it did, but nobody else thinks so!” He drives his fist into the table. “Kageyama practically walked onto the Adlers right out of high school. He even played in the Olympics, mom! How is that fair? How come he gets whatever he wants and I can’t even have one chance to make my dreams happen?”
“That’s not fair, Shouyou. You know he’s been practicing a lot longer than you have. Surely he had his own struggles too, things you don’t know about.”
“He doesn’t even talk to me anymore. He hasn't since high school.” Shouyou sniffs and looks down at his lap. “I guess… I guess a lot of us from high school don’t talk anymore.”
“That’s normal. People go off to college, start jobs, and make friends there. That’s life, baby.”
But it’s not fair, he wants to say, wants to scream. How can the same universe that gave Kageyama his shot take Shouyou’s away from him? He’s done everything right. He’s put in the time to get his body ready. He’s practiced day after day, hour after hour, only to be told he’s not ready. He’s been made fun of time and time again for his height, for his planning style, for everything under god’s green earth and Shouyou is sick and tired.
“You went straight to the top and didn’t make it,” his mother continues, “and that’s okay. Now you start somewhere else, and you make your way up. You have options. Maybe look into going to school and getting a degree. Start playing with the neighborhood association. Maybe ask that old coach of yours if he has any suggestions.”
Shouyou sits up straight. Of course! Why didn’t he think of it earlier? Ukai could definitely help!
“Mom, you’re a genius.”
The next day, Shouyou finds himself walking a familiar path to Karasuno High School. He waits outside the gym until practice ends and watches the team leave. Jeez, is this what high school students look like these days?
Is that what he looked like?
“Uh, Coach, sir. Ukai-san.”
Karasuno’s coach turns toward the voice. It’s only been a few years since Shouyou graduated, but Ukai looks aged. There are wrinkles around his eyes and he no longer pushes his hair back with a headband. Instead, it's tucked behind his ears and his roots are growing out.
“Ginger,” he breathes, smiling widely. “Look at you, all grown up!”
“Hi, sir.” Shouyou steps forward, smiling back as Takeda-sensei turns around from where he was erasing the whiteboard. He smiles too.
“Hinata-kun! It’s so good to see you!”
“It’s great to see you too, sensei-sir.”
The three take some time to catch up. Shouyou talks about his adventures in Brazil, the sights he saw, and the lessons he learned. Takeda talks about his improvement in volleyball strategy and how impressed he is with the kids on the team. Ukai-senior, unfortunately, passed away two years ago, but Ukai says he’s content with it now.
“It was his time and I think he was ready,” he says. Shouyou nods.
Then, finally, the question is asked.
“So Ginger,” Ukai glances at him with a single raised brow, “why are you here? Last we heard, you were down in Osaka playing for the Jackals.”
“Uhm, uh, who told you that?”
“Daichi-kun,” answers Takeda. “We ran into him the other day when he was on duty.”
“Oh.” Right. Shouyou hadn’t said anything yet. “About that.”
“Oh boy.” Ukai runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I need a drink. What do you say, Specs?”
“I could go for something fruity,” says Takeda.
“Ginger?”
“Sure,” Shouyou says, and that’s how the three of them find themselves down at an izakaya in town. Ukai finishes up his cigarette and smashes it into the ashtray before gesturing toward Shouyou with a calloused finger.
“Spill, kid.”
“I was in Osaka,” Shouyou starts off, staring at a scratch on the table. He’s too embarrassed to look Coach or Sensei in the eyes. “I tried out for the team and stayed with Bokuto-san for a few days. Do you remember Bokuto-san?”
“The kid from Fukurodani, right?”
“Mmhmm. He plays for the Jackals too. Anyways, I uhm… I got rejected. So I didn’t make it. Onto the team.”
“Uh-huh.” Ukai glares at him. “And Daichi thinks otherwise because…?”
“Because I haven’t told anyone yet that I didn’t actually make it onto the team.” Shouyou scratches behind his ear. He feels stupid. “No one knows. Well, except Tsukishima, because I ran into him when I went to give my resume to the coach of the Frogs.”
“You gave your resume to a Coach?” Takeda double-checks. Shouyou nods.
“I know it sounds silly, but I really thought it’d help me stand out! I was in Brazil for two years and got rejected instantly! And he said it was because of my height. That’s ridiculous! I’m over 170 centimeters now! That’s like, average height!”
“But you’d still be the shortest one on the team, correct?” Ukai asks.
“Yes, but—”
“Even shorter than the libero?”
“Yes, but you know that doesn’t matter! When has it ever?”
“I think you’re letting this get to you more than it needs to, Ginger.”
Shouyou frowns. “What do you mean?”
“So what if you didn’t get onto the team? When has the word ‘no’ ever stopped you before?”
“It’s true,” Takeda agrees with a small chuckle. “Remember when you crashed the first-year training camp?”
“I can’t just show up to a Jackals' practice.”
“Neither of us is telling you to do that. What I’m saying, kid, is that you aren’t a quitter.”
“I’m not planning on quitting, sir. I just want to know what to do next. Where do I go from here? Is it worth trying out for other teams and risking humiliating myself? Or do I give in to what everyone is telling me and start at the local level?”
“He who climbs a ladder must start at the bottom, remember?” Takeda is still smiling at him. Shouyou blushes. “There is nothing wrong with starting at the bottom and working your way up.”
“I’m just frustrated because I wanted to play with the best players and—”
“How do you expect to play with the best if you aren’t the best yourself?”
“So you think I need more practice?” Shouyou furrows his eyebrows. That’s not something he even fathomed as a possibility after Brazil, despite what the coaches all said. But if even Ukai agrees, then maybe… It's true.
“Everyone can always better themselves, even those at the top.” Ukai finishes off his beer and leans forward. “Let me ask you something. If Kageyama wasn’t playing professionally, do you think you’d be as upset about the rejection from the Jackals?”
“No,” mutters Shouyou, and this immediately clues Ukai into what is actually bothering Shouyou about this whole thing.
“I see.”
“Why does everyone have to bring him up all the time?” Shouyou suddenly demands. “Tsukishima, my mother, and now you? High school is over! I haven’t spoken to him in years! Just because we were some freak duo on the court doesn’t mean we were ever friends!” Now he’s working himself up, growing more and more frustrated about his relationship with a guy he wants to destroy. “His life and mine are totally separate. Am I pissed off that he basically walked onto the Adlers without trying and I can’t seem to find a team that wants to accept me? Of course I am, but that doesn’t mean he’s the reason I’m upset!”
“Ukai didn’t mean to offend you, Hinata-kun. It’s just interesting to know you don’t speak anymore after seeing how close you grew during your time at Karasuno. We like to know where our students end up. That’s all.” Takeda offers a polite bow, which he certainly did not need to do. “I think you should try out for a different team. The worst they can do is say no, right?”
“But if every division one team tells me no, then what is stopping the word from getting out? What if, because of that, no team wants to offer me a position in the future?”
“That won’t happen, kid,” says Ukai.
“If you’d like, you can come to our practice tomorrow. Seeing the new kids on the team might help give you some inspiration.”
“Yeah,” Shouyou nods, “I’d like that.”
“And you can always join the neighborhood team. Hell, I’ve even started going. We can see how you’re doing and offer pointers if you’re down for it.”
“Yeah,” he repeats himself feeling better by the minute, “I’d like that.”
He struggles to sleep that evening.
Shouyou thinks about Ukai’s words. If Kageyama wasn’t playing professionally, do you think you’d be as upset about the rejection from the Jackals?
Was it really the rejection that hurt him, or the fact that Kageyama, the person he swore to beat from the moment he laid eyes on him, was now lightyears ahead?
He swore to be the last one on the court, the last one playing, and now he isn’t on any court at all. Was that something Kageyama still thought about after all these years or was it a silly little promise he forgot about the second he walked out of Karasuno’s halls?
Shouyou is twenty-one years old and all he can think about is a petty promise built on jealousy, anger, and distrust.
He rolls over and reaches for his phone so he can pull up the chat log with Kageyama. When was the last time they spoke to one another? There are some messages about nationals, circa 2015, and a congratulations for making it onto the Adlers. The conversation fades for a while— that must have been when they were apart for the year Shouyou was saving up for Brazil and Kageyama was in Tokyo— and then a text that says have a good flight.
Thanks, Shouyou wrote, and that’s it. That’s the end of it. March 21, 2016. This is the last time they texted.
But then— no, it couldn’t be, because Shouyou strictly remembers sending Kageyama a picture with Oikawa Tooru simply because he knew the other man would hate it. When was that?
Shouyou opens What's App. That’s right— they couldn’t text while he was in Brazil because of international lines or whatever. There are a few more messages there that he remembers.
July 14, 2016
Me [13:01]
Look who I ran into! [image]
Yama [13:05]
What? How?
Me [13:06]
He plays with Argentina! They have a game.
Hey, aren’t you gonna be in town soon? For the Olympics?
Yama [13:08]
Yeah, in August.
Me [13:11]
Maybe we could grab lunch!
Yama [13:15]
I’ll let you know.
And that’s it. That’s the end of the conversation, the end of the text thread, the end of their relationship. Besides a few overlapping messages in the Karasuno group chat, they never spoke again. They didn’t even get lunch, either. Shouyou chickened out even though he knew Kageyama was in town. What if Kageyama didn’t want to see him? What if he didn’t care, not really?
It didn’t matter anyway, because Kageyama didn’t reach out, didn’t ask, didn’t care.
The idea of running into Kageyama still scares him. Shouyou doesn’t know what he’ll say or how he’ll act, and how could he? It’s been two years since their last conversation and three since they last met face-to-face. He’d look like an idiot, probably, and knows he’d be unable to act like an adult. He’d bring up the stupid promise and throw a fit when Kageyama didn’t acknowledge him.
Shouyou wonders what he’s up to these days. Does he have a girlfriend? Does he have other hobbies he indulges in during his free time when he isn’t playing volleyball? What routines does he follow, what television shows does he watch, what clothes does he wear?
He’s curious about all of it.
He’s curious if Kageyama still thinks of him.
The next day he goes back to Karasuno to meet up with Ukai and Takeda. They introduce him to the new volleyball club members, who seem excited to have a former player in their midst.
“You guys went to nationals three times!” One of them exclaims. “That’s so cool!”
“And you were short too, weren’t you?” Says another. “Coach Ukai talks about how high you could jump all the time! Your vertical must be crazy!”
Shouyou chuckles. “Yeah, it’s pretty crazy for sure.”
He plays with them for a while, hitting spikes, showing off the power in his legs, and even offering advice on digs and receives. All of the players are very kind and give him the utmost respect. Takeda was right. It does boost his morale for a little while, enough to get him to sign up for tryouts with EJP when he gets home. The train ride will be another four hours, but it’ll be worth it.
He even starts to attend the neighborhood practices and quickly befriends all the shopkeepers and parents who play twice a week. Ukai is nice to him, but Shouyou kind of feels like he’s treading carefully or walking on eggshells. Is that something other people are doing around him too? Do they feel like he’s going to yell at them or reach some sort of breaking point?
It isn’t a great sign, but Shouyou is trying to stay positive. That’s what he does, right? That’s what people expect. Hinata Shouyou is five feet and seven inches of positivity and happiness.
The train ride to the Nagano prefecture is long and it doesn’t help Shouyou’s anxiety. The second the train pulls into the station, he darts off to use the nearest bathroom and splashes some water on his face. It’ll be fine, he tells himself, repeating it over and over until it becomes a mantra.
Shouyou hikes his bag over his shoulder and heads to the gym. The EJP facilities aren’t too far away from the station, only a few blocks, so he gets there with plenty of time to change and stretch. There are only four of them in total and he’s the shortest by far. He overhears the guys talking about their height; the tallest one is nearly seven feet tall.
His stomach churns and he thinks about his Jackals tryout. What can he do differently? How can he improve?
“Hey.”
Shouyou sits up. None of the others trying out have even acknowledged him, so he’s surprised to hear a voice directed toward him. It’s one of the EJP players, a kid that looks familiar but Shouyou can’t put his finger on it.
“Uh… hi.”
“You went to Karasuno, right?”
“Yes.”
“Inarizaki. You guys kicked our ass back in the day.” The man smiles. “Suna.”
“Oh! That’s right! I remember you.” Shouyou smiles widely and bows. “Hinata. It’s nice to see you again!”
“You’re friends with Atsumu, aren’t you?”
“Yeah! Do you still talk to him?”
“All the time. His brother and I are best friends, so I kind of have to deal with Tsumu by default. Twin things.” He shrugs. “Didn’t make it onto the Jackals, then, I’m assuming.”
“Uh, no. But that’s okay! I’m gonna give it my all here!”
“What are you trying out for? Libero?”
Shouyou’s smile wobbles. “Hitter, actually. I want to spike.”
“Ah. Well, Coach is kind of a hardass, so good luck. Hope to see you around, Hinata.” Suna waves and Shouyou is alone again. He fiddles with his hands in his lap and returns to his stretches. I can do this. It’ll be fine.
His height doesn’t matter. His previously failed tryout doesn’t matter. All that matters is this moment, right here, right now.
“Hinata Shouyou,” the coach calls out. He takes a deep breath and follows the call of his name.
The coach of the EJP Raijin is a tall man with grey hair and a permanent frown plastered across his face. Shouyou stands nervously in front of him, waiting to hear how the tryout went. He’ll receive a letter in the mail later, but even the way they speak can clue him into how things went.
“Did you play in high school?” He asks.
“Yes sir,” Shouyou replies.
“What position?”
“Middle blocker. It wasn’t my preferred position, but I, uh, still needed to learn how to hit properly. The setter at the time, he was really good at getting the ball to me regardless, so—”
“So you can only hit his sets, then.”
“No, sir. You see, I was in Brazil training for beach volleyball over the past two years and I really learned ball control! Receives, digs, you name it! And my hits got much better too, especially because I had to learn to hit tosses from different setters.” The person who had been setting to him hadn’t necessarily done a great job at it, and Shouyou couldn’t help but compare every toss to Kageyama. He would have even taken Atsumu’s tosses at that point. “So I would say I can hit… good tosses.”
“I see.” The Coach does a lookover of Shouyou, making him feel insecure. He glances back at his clipboard. “How tall are you?”
“170 centimeters, sir.”
“And you want to play as an outside hitter, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hmm. Can you jump for me again? I’ll toss you the ball.”
Shouyou nods and gets in position. His hands are shaking as he launches himself forward and soars to hit the ball cross-court. He teeters when he lands, his back foot giving out underneath him, and falls onto his bottom. The coach doesn’t pay attention as Shouyou scrambles back onto his feet.
“Okay, well, thank you for your time, Hinata-san. We will be in contact with you shortly.”
“Sir, I promise you I would be worth your time. Please consider me.”
“We will be in contact with you shortly,” he repeats himself, and Shouyou feels like he has a door slammed in his face.
There isn’t anything in particular that should make him feel bad about his tryout. He played just about as well as he did during his Jackals tryout, save for the tumble he took at the end. That wasn’t his fault, though. The coach’s toss wasn’t high enough and he lost his footing. That happens in volleyball.
The tryout for the Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets goes similarly, except for the fact that there are a lot more people at these tryouts— possibly twenty or thirty people are squished into a room waiting for their turn to make an impression. Shouyou taps his foot and shakes his knee as he reminds himself to stay cool and not make a fool of himself. Saying hi to Goshiki does make him feel better, but he thinks it is simply the idea of seeing a familiar face that calms him down.
His mind wanders over to Kageyama once more. What was his tryout like? Surely the coaches didn’t comment on his height or the position he wanted to play. Surely they didn’t frown at him or question why he was here in the first play.
What Shouyou didn’t understand is why every coach had something to say to him. He’s done everything they’ve asked for— provided the footage from previous games, highlighted his skills, showed how much his passes and motor skills have improved— and despite all of that, they only care about his height, his lack of professional training, the lack of awards and camps and god knows what else he didn’t attend. So what he never got invited to a fancy training camp? So what he started playing volleyball officially in high school? Why does any of that matter when he’s shown what he can do now?
All of it makes him so frustrated. Just because his circumstances were different from everyone else doesn’t make him any less deserving of a spot on the team. For God’s sake, he was Ninja Shouyou!
How did he go from Ninja Shouyou to No One Shouyou?
Two months have now passed since Shouyou returned home from Brazil. He’s still awaiting letters from both the Green Rockets and EJP, but he continues to play with the neighborhood association and occasionally stops by Karasuno to do drills with the team. It isn’t what he wanted out of his return, but he’s content with it for now. He even gets a part-time job at a nearby konbini to satisfy his mother’s wishes.
Tryout season is almost over. If he doesn’t make it onto either one of these teams, then that’s that, at least, for the rest of the year. While he knows and understands that he can wait another year to try out again, the idea makes him want to cry. That’s a whole other year setting him back, setting his schedule back. He’s mortified by the idea.
To take his mind off things, Shouyou travels to Tokyo to see Kenma. Since Kenma was a huge part of why he was able to go to Brazil in the first place, he feels he owes his friend at least some explanation as to what is going on.
“You’ve been home for two months and this is the first time you’ve come to see me?” Kenma teases as they take the elevator up to his penthouse apartment. It’s in the center of Shibuya and is a symbol of fame and fortune Kenma has earned himself over nearly five years of streaming. Although it isn’t the first time Shouyou has been to Kenma’s apartment, the feeling that he doesn’t belong never goes away. He himself has never once been a symbol of fortune and he has the childhood to prove it.
“Sorry, Kenma. I had tryouts.”
“How’d they go?”
“Not… too well.” Shouyou looks away in shame. Kenma once said that the second Shouyou got boring, he’d pull out of his sponsorship. He was joking, of course, but Shouyou still doesn’t want to let his friend down.
“Oh. Really?” Kenma looks up from his phone as they walk through the front door. Shouyou slowly takes his shoes off as his friend asks what he wants for dinner. “Are you okay with something simple? Like pizza maybe?”
“Pizza is fine,” Shouyou agrees with a nod. He sits down with Kenma on the sofa and crosses his legs. He has a pretty good guess of how things are going to go tonight. They’ll play some video games, watch a movie, and Kenma will end the night streaming into the early hours of the morning while Shouyou crashes in the guest room. That’s about how all their hangouts go.
“What happened at tryouts?”
“I didn’t… get in. At least for the Jackals. I still haven’t heard back from the Rockets or the EJP. The stupid thing is that I kind of put all my eggs into one basket for the division one teams so if I don’t make it onto either one, then I have to wait an entire season to go by before I can try out again.” He sighs. “I still don’t really understand how I didn’t make it onto the Jackals. Both Bokuto-san and Atsumu-san were there to vouch for me! And they are such amazing players. I just thought… I thought I had learned enough to prove myself.”
“Whatever, Shou. It’s their loss. You and I both know how incredible of a player you are.”
“Maybe so, but…” Shouyou shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I can’t help but get upset even though I know I shouldn’t. It’s like my mom said: everyone experiences rejection.”
“Sure, but it’s hard to get rejected from something you feel qualified for. The first time I applied to be a Twitch partner, I got denied, and I had no idea why. I was pissed off too. You just gotta keep trying.”
“But what happens if I keep trying and it still doesn’t happen? What then?” He pauses. “I don’t really have a plan B, Kenma. That’s what makes me the most worried. I had this plan, and now the plan is falling apart, and I’m panicking. I sucked at school to begin with, so paying for more school seems stupid. If I can’t find a team to offer me a spot, then all I can really do is keep playing with the neighborhood league and working my crappy job at the convenience store until I die. I don’t want that life. It’s not where I thought I’d be and it’s certainly not going to be something I give into, you know?”
“You could come live with me,” Kenma suggests, only half-joking. “I could pay for everything and all you’d have to do is play games with me on stream.”
“Thanks for the offer, but you and I both know I’d go crazy staying inside all day.”
“Trust me, I know.” Kenma laughs softly. “How about I buy a JVA team and get you a spot that way?”
“It wouldn’t be earned, though.” With a groan, Shouyou shoves his head into his arms. “This is so dumb, Kenma.”
“Maybe Kuro could give you some tips? He’s supposed to stop by tomorrow so we can go over the details of the sponsored stream coming up later this year.”
“Yeah, okay! That would be awesome.” Shouyou forces himself out of his funk and glances at the games lining the bookshelves on either side of Kenma’s television. “What games are we going to play today?”
“I thought you might be ready for something past Mario Kart and Smash Bros. Maybe a first-person shooter?”
“Uh, yeah, sure! I can try that.”
“I’ll probably be carrying us for the most part, but I’m sure you can get a hang of things.”
Shouyou tuts. “Hey! That’s mean!”
“Mean, but true.”
That’s fair. The two get started, and soon their evening turns into stuffed bellies, empty beer cans, and yelling at the television. Shouyou has always been a lightweight, but he also definitely drank more than Kenma (who knew he still had a stream to do) and is currently running around the apartment waving his shirt in the air following a win that he absolutely did not contribute to.
“Shouyou, sit down! You’re going to hurt yourself!”
“Am not!” He sticks his tongue out and stands on top of the sofa. He puffs his chest out. “We are victorious! I’m a winner!”
“You are a winner,” Kenma agrees, nodding.
“And I’m—” Shouyou hiccups and collapses down onto the sofa, “—I’m gonna be a winner at everything else, too. You’ll see. They’ll all see!”
Kenma smiles sadly— something Shouyou won’t remember.
His head hurts in the morning.
Shouyou groans as he shuffles into the kitchen from the guest room to rummage for pain medication and make himself a cup of coffee. He’s surprised to find Kenma is already awake, and, even more surprising, there is a familiar face sitting across from him at the table.
“Hinata-kun! It’s good to see you!”
“Hi, Kuroo-san.” Shouyou rubs his face as he joins the two at the table. “I thought you weren’t coming over until later today.”
“It’s almost one in the afternoon, dude.” Kuroo grins. “Do you want help with the coffee maker?”
“That’d be great, thank you.”
“Grab him some aspirin too,” calls Kenma, who winks at Shouyou.
“Ugh. You should have limited my alcohol intake.”
“To be honest, I’m not sure if you would have listened to me in the first place. You were wild last night. And you probably needed it.”
Shouyou blushes. He had been feeling pretty down lately, despite his attempt at keeping up appearances. Kenma always could see past him.
“If you drink more water, your hangover wouldn’t be as bad,” lectures Kuroo. He sets down a tiny pill bottle and a glass of water in front of Shouyou, who thanks him.
“I don’t know what I’m doing when I’m drinking. That’s why it doesn’t happen that often.”
“Are you saying it didn’t happen in Brazil?”
His blush deepens. “I think I did it a lot more in Brazil, which is why I’m fine not doing it as much here. Besides, I’m not going to drink if I don’t have anyone around to do it with.”
“Good. That’s the kind of healthy behavior I like to enforce.” Kuroo raises an eyebrow and folds his arms over his chest. He’s dressed in a suit and his hair is slicked back. It’s definitely a different look than high school. His hair is tamed now and he exerts a confidence not even Oikawa Tooru holds. “I heard you didn’t make it onto the Jackals.”
Shouyou sits up so fast his vision blurs. “Who told you that?”
“Kenma mentioned it. Calm down, dude.”
“I just, I don’t want people to know about that. Not yet.”
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.” Kuroo raises his hands up as if to say “scout’s honor” and turns around when the coffee maker hums its completion. “Honestly, I don’t know why they wouldn’t offer you a spot. You have plenty of power and experience.”
“Something about my height, yadda yadda, something about my skill level, yadda yadda.” Shouyou shrugs. “I don’t know. Coach Foster didn’t think I had enough experience to rely on. He thought I was sloppy, essentially. And then he said I couldn’t rely on my ability to jump forever. Well, duh! I’m not going to be playing volleyball when I’m an old man and can’t jump!”
“I can’t believe you’d admit that,” Kenma deadpans, back to scrolling on his phone. Kuroo sets a mug of coffee in front of Shouyou who thanks him and urges for his reply.
“Huh. Well, I mean, we’re always looking for people to work in the marketing department if that’s something you’d be interested in. I know you’d rather be playing volleyball, but it’s always an option. I have hiring power, so it’d be a sure thing.”
Shouyou sighs. “Thanks, Kuroo-san. That’s nice of you to offer. I’m just waiting to hear back from my tryouts with the Rockets and EJP before I decide what to do going forward.”
“Gotcha. Well, you’re always more than welcome. Oh, hey! I forgot.” He rummages through his suit pocket and pulls out a small envelope. “I got tickets for the volleyball match tonight. Falcons versus Warriors. Should be a good game tonight if you both are interested.”
“No thanks,” Kenma grunts. “I have a sponsored stream with Redbull tonight. Shou is more than welcome to go, though.”
“What do you say, Hinata? You and me?”
Shouyou can’t recall ever doing something with Kuroo and Kuroo alone, but he isn’t going to give up his chance to see a professional volleyball match. He nods his head eagerly.
“Yes, Kuroo-san! I’d love to!”
“Great. Kenma and I have to figure out the kinks of this contract for the JVA stream in November, but we can leave once it’s finished. Why don’t you shower and get ready in the meantime?”
“Yeah, okay!” Shouyou smiles politely at Kuroo and Kenma as he takes his coffee mug and starts down the hallway to the guest room. He stops only when he hears Kuroo say his name, and, in the interest of his pride, steps back to hear what they are talking about.
“He’s never going to make it onto those teams if he couldn’t even make it onto the Jackals,” Kuroo tells Kenma. His voice isn’t rude or aggressive; in fact, Shouyou recognizes the tone. It’s sympathy. “The Rockets and EJP have two of the toughest coaches out of the JVA teams. If he was worried about what Foster had to say, then… I’m worried how he’ll be when he hears what the others say.”
“I feel bad,” Kenma murmurs. “He’s trying so hard and it’s like the world is out to get him. I know he knew his height would be a problem, but he’s still… average now, right? Average height?”
“It isn’t about his height,” says Kuroo. “There are plenty of co-ed teams out there that have women playing with the net at the same height as all those tall men. The issue is that no one thinks he has the skill or ability to back it up. Yes, it’s impressive how high his vertical is, and I’m sure it’s even more impressive now, but he relied too much on his athleticism. He didn’t know how to block in high school, and he certainly couldn’t receive. I want to see how he’s improved, but I’m also nervous I’ll see exactly what I expect.”
“And what’s that?”
“He’ll be playing exactly the way he’s played all his life.”
“I don’t think it helps that he doesn’t have Kageyama-kun there to back him up now either.”
“Maybe he doesn’t need the Karasuno setter to toss to him, but in a lot of ways, Kageyama was a part of Hinata’s playing style. Now that he’s gone, what is left for Hinata to make of himself? What improvements did he make while he was in Brazil, and how well can he stand on his own? That is what worries me.”
“It’s not just that, Kuroo.” Kenma’s voice gets lower and Shouyou scoots even closer, accidentally dribbling hot coffee onto his hand. He grips the mug tighter and ignores the burn. “He doesn’t have a backup plan. I’m worried that if this doesn’t work out for him, he’ll go down a path he won’t be able to come back from.”
“He could always go back to Brazil.”
“I don’t think so. He doesn’t have the money, and neither does his family. That’s why his plan was to play here at first. He could find an apartment with the sign-on bonus and have enough money to last him during the probation period. Without that, he’s stuck in Miyagi. Of course, I’d be more than willing to help him, but I know he isn’t going to accept my offer if he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. That’s how Shouyou operates. He’s stubborn. Driven, but stubborn.”
“Well, let's hope he makes it onto one of the teams, then.”
Shouyou’s eyes sting and his throat burns, but he stays strong as he walks the rest of the way down the hallway. He’ll show them.
He’ll show them all.
Shouyou doesn’t bring up the overheard conversation. He figures it’s better for all of them that Kuroo and Kenma go on oblivious to Shouyou’s eavesdropping.
Kuroo and Shouyou walk to the Tokyo stadium together, entertaining conversations the whole way there. Kuroo has a really interesting job and Shouyou is more than happy to listen to his work stories and the projects he’s working on. He has so much that he wants to do and Shouyou is impressed by how much his brain seems to be able to retain.
“The JVA executives have their own box here since we’re based in Tokyo,” Kuroo explains as they bypass security and head up to the third floor of the stadium. The box is equipped with snacks, television screens, and speakers. Shouyou has a perfect view of the court— certainly a much better view than the one he would have had sitting in the stands.
“This is really cool, Kuroo-san. Do you get a lot of opportunities like this?”
“Most of the opportunities I get are ones I’ve made, Hinata-kun. That’s something you learn working in a field like this. Everyone is fighting for opportunities, so if you don’t make them yourself, you get stuck in the background.”
“You must get to meet a lot of cool players then.”
“Yeah, I do. It’s nice to see familiar faces too, though. Friends from high school, business trips to see family, that kind of thing. I belong in the corporate world and it’s where I want to stay.”
“What do you think you’d do if you weren’t working in corporate?”
He takes a moment to think about it. “I guess I’d go back home and start from square one. What about you? What would you do if volleyball couldn’t be a part of your life?”
“I don’t know,” Shouyou mumbles, knowing exactly what direction Kuroo is trying to steer this conversation in. “I haven’t really thought about it. But it’s fine because I won’t need to think about it. Volleyball is what I want to do, so it’s what I’m going to do.”
“It’s good to have confidence, man, but I worry that maybe… you aren’t being logical.”
“Maybe not, but it’s going to happen.” Shouyou blinks as hard as he can and turns to look down at the court. He pictures himself there, warming up, spending that time practicing his serves and spikes. He wants that to be him. It needs to be him. “Because I don’t want to do anything else.”
After a few more minutes, the announcer comes over the loudspeaker to announce the teams. The first is the Red Falcons, who file onto the court buzzing with energy. It is then that something clicks, and Shouyou glances down at his ticket. If they are playing in Tokyo Stadium, then that means at least one of these teams has to be based in Tokyo, right? Well— not necessarily, because there have been games in stadiums all over, but one team always “sponsors” the event, unless the team based out of that town uses the court frequently. And there is only one V. League team based out of Tokyo.
Which means…
“And let's make some noise for the home team tonight, your very own Schweiden Adlers!”
The stadium breaks out in thunderous roars as Shouyou’s entire body stiffens. He watches the familiar white and yellow uniforms streak onto the court with his eyes glued to one particular player.
“Our lineup tonight consists of the Adlers' top six players. Captain Hirugami Fukurou and Sokolov Tatsuto are your middle blockers, followed by the Adler hitters, Romero Nicollas, Ushijima Wakotoshi, and Hoshiumi Kourai.”
The cheers are all Shouyou is able to hear, far louder than the announcer’s voice. He introduces the libero and lists off the statistics of the players before Kageyama is mentioned, and suddenly Shouyou is unable to hear at all. He stands face-to-face with Kageyama, watching him roll his shoulders back and push his hair out of his face. It’s longer, and his bangs are cut, parted down the middle. He looks different.
He looks so different.
Shouyou blinks. He wants to ask what Kageyama has been up to. He wants to ask if Kageyama even still thinks about him. He wants to ask if Kageyama…
Misses him.
Because, if he’s being honest, he misses Kageyama a lot.
They are on the court again, shaking hands, and Shouyou smiles, tilting his head, asking for a toss, and it’s there, it’s always there.
“Let the game begin!”
The roars and applause bring him back to reality. Kuroo is shaking him— Kuroo must have been shaking him for a while because he looks worried.
“I’m sorry, I really thought it was the Warriors, not the Adlers!”
“It’s fine.” Shouyou blinks a few times and tears his gaze from Kageyama, who is up to serve first. “They’re a good team. I’m… lucky to see them.”
Kuroo doesn’t look convinced. “But Kageyama—”
“Don’t you start that shit too.” Shouyou tugs away from him. “We aren’t connected, him and I. We haven’t even spoken since we graduated.”
“Oh. I thought you two were… well, how do I put this…” He clicks his tongue. “Together?”
Shouyou’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Excuse me?”
Did people really think that about him? About them? They didn’t spend that much time together in high school, did they? Shouyou didn’t think so. They weren’t ever friends in the first place! Shouyou had to be with him because Kageyama was the only person who could get the tosses over and close enough to hit!
“It’s just that you guys were always attached at the hip, even when you didn’t have to be, and—”
“And he carried me through every game. Yeah, I get it. I’m a nobody and he’s a super cool great player. Well, guess what? I don’t care! I don’t care about Kageyama or his stupid volleyball career! As far as I know, Kageyama is dead to me, okay?”
Kuroo nods. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he awkwardly turns to watch the game. “Noted.”
The Adlers end up taking the win. Kuroo says he needs to double-check on something, so that means Shouyou gets dragged down to the court to meet with the coaches. The players are all still out here, signing jerseys and autographs for kids, so Shouyou idles by and watches the people who used to be his friends move further in their careers while he falls farther and farther behind.
“Hinata Shouyou? Is that you?”
He recognizes that voice. Ushijima approaches the edge of the court blocked off by bumpers and offers a hand. Shouyou shakes it. “Hi, Ushijima-san.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I was in town for a trip and Kuroo-san invited me to a game. I kinda got dragged down here.” He laughs nervously. “Good job, playing tonight.”
“Thank you, but I’m talking about your position with the Jackals. Didn’t you have a game tonight?”
“Oh.” Oh. How could he be so stupid? Of course, the word would get around. Everyone in the Karasuno group chat thought he was playing for MSBY, including Kageyama, who probably shared that nugget of information with his own teammates. This is a lie that has gotten far too out of hand. “Well, uhm,” he clears his throat as he scrambles for an excuse, “since it’s the end of the season, they haven’t, uh, well, they haven’t put me in or anything, I haven’t even signed the papers for the contract yet so technically I’m not actually a Jackal!” Shouyou laughs again and mentally slaps himself. Idiot! What the hell are you doing? “I mean, of course, I’m a Jackal, but yeah, just waiting for the next season, and in the meantime I’m training down at the facilities in Osaka, just getting ready, so we should be playing against each other really soon!”
Okay. Even worse. Shouyou hates how easily he cracks under pressure.
“Ah, I see. I believe something similar happened to me when I first signed with the Adlers. Well, it is good to see you, Hinata. I look forward to playing against you soon.”
“Y-You too, Ushijima-san.” Shouyou watches him disappear down the tunnel and off the court. Most of the other players have as well, including Hoshiumi, which honestly, Shouyou is thankful for. He certainly couldn’t match the energy of the real tiny giant tonight, especially with how shitty he is feeling watching all his friends succeed.
Kageyama, however, has not left the court. He is crouched down in front of a young boy, probably about seven or eight, who is holding up a jersey with “Kageyama, #20” on the back of it. The boy hugs Kageyama tightly as his mother snaps a photo, and then Shouyou watches the person who had once been his best friend scrawl a sharpie across the jersey. Kageyama looks… normal, for once. Maybe even at peace. He certainly looks happy; his teammates probably love and care for him a lot. He smiles at the boy and waves goodbye as they walk out of the arena.
Shouyou doesn’t even realize there are tears in his eyes until one slides down and off his cheek. He sniffs and hurriedly wipes away the tear, but not before accidentally locking eyes with the setter. Kageyama’s expression softens and he reaches a hand out, beckoning Shouyou to stop.
Shouyou doesn’t stop. Instead, he rushes out of the arena and into the narrow hallways packed with now-empty food stands and the remaining attendees trickling outside. His tears fall faster, harder, like a river after a flood, as he finds the nearest bathroom and pushes inside. He feels so stupid, coming here. He feels stupid for even thinking he’d be able to make it onto any D1 team to begin with. When he gets back to Miyagi, he’ll open the acceptance letters from EJP and the Rockets only to discover he’s been rejected.
He sinks to the ground behind the stall door and pulls his knees to his chest. No matter how hard he tries to stop, the tears, the gasps for air, the heaving, do not stop.
The restroom door squeaks open. “Shouyou?”
He can see Kageyama’s shoes from underneath the stall door. His tears are still falling, so Shouyou doesn’t say anything. He’s sure Kageyama can hear him crying, though. That’s hard to drown out.
“Shouyou.” There is a knock on his stall door.
“G-Go away,” he spits out.
It’s quiet for a moment, and Shouyou would have guessed Kageyama actually listened to him if his shoes weren’t still visible from underneath the stall.
“I’m sorry,” Kageyama says, and oh, Shouyou wasn’t expecting that. “Whatever I did to make you cry, I’m sorry.”
Whatever he did to make ME cry? Oh, Shouyou is even more upset now.
“Whatever, you jerk!” Shouyou works up the courage to say as he wipes away more tears and tries not to let his voice waver. “I’m not crying b-because of you! We haven’t even talked in two years! Why the h-hell would this be your fault?”
“I just thought because—” He stops himself, and Shouyou wonders what is going through his head. Kageyama never was very good at expressing his emotions. “I thought you were mad at me.” A sigh. “Can we not have this conversation through a restroom door? Please?”
Shouyou grumbles under his breath, but eventually submits and opens the door. Kageyama stares at him, just for a moment, before Shouyou pushes through so he can splash some water on his face. Kageyama keeps speaking.
“Congratulations on making it onto the Jackals.”
His heart skips a beat, but he doesn’t look up from the sink. Instead, he starts scrubbing his hands, rubbing them faster and faster until they are bright red.
“I wanted to say something sooner, but I thought… I thought if I texted you, it’d be weird, just because of… everything else.”
“What, the fact that you never messaged me again after I left for Rio?”
“You’re the one that asked me about lunch and then never texted back.”
That was true. It was partially Shouyou’s fault, but he wasn’t about to admit it.
“There was no point in us getting lunch. It’s not like we’re friends, right?”
Kageyama’s eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“You and me? We were never friends, right? Isn’t that what you told me?”
“I—”
“We were enemies, Kageyama. You and I. We knew it, and just because we were forced to play on the same side of the net doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. We just used each other because we had to. That’s why I went to Brazil to begin with. I improved myself, worked on my technique, and now I’m back to destroy you.” Shouyou turns off the sink, leaving the restroom in uncomfortable silence. Kageyama is still in his Adlers uniform. It fits him nicely. “End of discussion. Goodbye.”
He doesn’t give the other man a chance to reply, already pushing out the door by the time Kageyama opens his mouth. Part of him expects the setter to run after him, even secretly hoping that Kageyama will, but it doesn’t happen.
Instead, Kuroo is leaning up against the wall, a new stack of papers in hand, as he scans his phone with the other. He looks up and frowns when Shouyou approaches.
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine. Can we leave now?”
“Sure,” says Kuroo.
They don’t speak on the walk back.
Rejected.
Rejected.
Two letters, two words, two thoughts swirling around his head as he stares at them in between his shaking hands. His mother looks at him, her lips pressed together, waiting for the response. “Go on,” she had said like he didn’t already know what it would say after he unfolded them.
He crushes both letters into balls and throws them into the trash.
The leaves are starting to change colors. Shouyou watches the way they dance in the wind as he tries to pass the time during his shift. His phone has been buzzing a ridiculous amount of times over the past hour and he’s trying to do everything he can to ignore it because he already knows what is being talked about in that goddamn Karasuno group chat.
November 18!!! Sugawara texted with about fifty emojis after it. Sendai Stadium! Adlers vs. Jackals! We’re all gonna go, right?!
Everyone lost their minds after that. Not only would it be a reunion for the old Karasuno team, but it’d be a chance to watch Kageyama and presumably Shouyou play professionally and against one another for the first time. While everyone talked about where and when to meet up, Shouyou spent his time thinking about the excuse he could give as to why he wouldn’t be there. Maybe he could borrow one of Atsumu’s jerseys to at least look the part. No one would even notice it said “Miya” at first glance. Probably.
The part that is giving Shouyou an even bigger dilemma is the thought of a text from Tsukishima sitting in his unread messages threatening to spill his secret anyway. All of that for nothing. What does Shouyou say? How can he look his friends in the eyes and admit to lying to them for what, eight months now? Maybe even nine?
He can’t do that. He knows he’s going to crash and burn, but he’s still hoping he can prolong that for as long as possible.
After about five minutes, Shouyou’s curiosity gets the best of him and he turns back toward his phone. He (surprisingly) does not have a text from Tsukishima, but one from Kageyama instead.
Yama [11:41]
I’m looking forward to the game in Sendai. It will be fun to play with you again.
Shouyou’s thumb hovers over the keyboard as he thinks of what he could respond with. Perhaps he shouldn’t answer at all. Knowing himself, he’d only make it worse.
So he sets his phone down and goes back to staring out the window. It’s nearly midday on a Tuesday, so most people are at work. He hasn’t had a customer in nearly an hour.
A minute passes. He itches to reread the text Kageyama sent him. Did his old friend really mean that, or was he still thinking about the interaction they had back in May? They hadn’t spoken since then, nor had Shouyou really thought about him. Or tried not to think about him, really. Unfortunately, Kageyama was in his thoughts a lot more frequently than he would have liked.
He scratches the back of his neck and clicks over to the Karasuno group chat. They still are talking about the match; Sugawara is trying to get everyone to get dinner afterward. Shouyou notices that he and Tsukishima are the only ones who haven’t replied or chimed in. Kageyama replied directly to Suga, expressing his excitement to see his old senpai. Shouyou pictures him typing that out with a straight face.
His phone chimes. It seems Kageyama has more to say.
Yama [11:45]
I’m surprised you haven’t said anything yet. Would have guessed you’d tell me you’d beat me or kick my ass or something.
Shouyou’s hand tightens around his phone. He shouldn’t do this. He really shouldn’t do this.
Me [11:48]
Whatever.
Kageyama doesn’t reply. Shouyou slams his phone back down and makes himself useful by wiping down the counters. Two men in suits come in looking for drinks, so Shouyou checks them out and decides to rearrange the candy bars on the checkout counter. It is only then that he picks his phone back up and reads Kageyama’s reply.
Yama [12:00]
Shouyou, are you okay?
He’s not sure why, but reading that makes him break down.
Shouyou forces himself to take deep breaths as he crouches down behind the counter. Kageyama’s text is forcing him to face an uncomfortable truth:
No. He’s not okay. And he hasn’t been for a while now.
It’s something Shouyou thought he could push down and forget about. People don’t— won’t— expect him to be sad. He’s Hinata Shouyou, the human embodiment of the sun, the person always smiling, always happy, always full of positivity. He can’t let them know that he’s been struggling for months now. He can’t let anyone know that when he goes to sleep, all he can think about is how he’s a failure and how it isn’t fair that everyone he knows is getting to live out their dreams and he’s stuck working a shitty fucking nine to five at a corner store market.
It’s there, in that small convenience store, that the thought that he’d be better off dead crosses his mind for the very first time. It’s brief and disappears almost immediately, but he knows it was there, and it terrifies him.
With a sniff, Shouyou stands up and straightens his shirt and nametag. He then picks up his phone.
Me [12:05]
I’ve never been better.
Tsukishima calls him later that evening. Despite expecting it, a new wave of anxiety rushes through him as he pulls his legs onto his bed and clicks the answer button.
“Hinata.”
“Hi, Tsukki.” Shouyou coughs. “I uhm, I’m pretty sure I can guess why you’re calling.”
“Yeah. You wanna tell me why everyone thinks you’ll be playing with the Jackals in Sendai?”
“Because I never told them I wasn’t accepted.”
“Right.” He clicks his tongue. “Okay, then. What are you going to do?”
“I guess I just have to tell them the truth. That I won’t be playing.”
“I know it sucks that you didn’t get on, Hinata, but you’ve prolonged this for far too long now. These are your friends, who are making plans to come from all over to see you play.”
“It’s not just me! They want to see Kageyama too. Maybe I can go anyway and then I’ll… I’ll, I don’t know! I can sit close enough to make them think I’ve been benched or something, right?”
“Come on, man. You know better.”
Tsukishima is right. Shouyou does know better. And he’s letting his petty pride get in the way.
He sighs. “You’re right. I’ll draft up a message to send over tomorrow.”
“Good. Saves me the trouble of having to expose your ass.”
Shouyou scratches behind his ear. “Does Tadashi know the truth?”
“No. I said I wouldn’t tell anyone, didn’t I?”
“Sure, but I didn’t think you’d actually listen.”
“Why not? We’re friends, aren’t we? Reluctantly,” he adds, but even hearing it makes Shouyou’s chest warm. Friends.
“Do you think… Kageyama and I were friends?”
Tsukishima snorts. “Are you joking right now? You two were practically the same person all of high school. Kind of hard to not be friends with the person you spend all your time with, correct?”
“Kuroo-san said he thought we were dating.”
“I think a lot of people thought that, Hinata.”
He frowns. “Really? Why?”
“Because you guys were really touchy-feely with each other!” He scowls. “I’m not going to explain how relationships work. Figure that one out for yourself. Hell, why don’t you just talk to him?”
“Because he’s a jackass and I don’t want to!”
“‘Cause you’re jealous?”
“No! There’s more to it than that.” Shouyou squeezes his eyes shut and jams his fingers into them. “There’s more to it, okay? I don’t want to talk about it. Kageyama and I aren’t friends. We never have been. At least you and Yamaguchi and Yachi consistently kept up with me while I was in Brazil! He didn’t even want to get lunch with me one day out of the entire freaking time I was there! What is his problem?”
“Uhm, he’s a jerk? We all knew this.”
“Whatever.” Shouyou’s shoulders sink. “Sorry I dragged you into the mess. Thanks for helping me out.”
“For what it’s worth, Hinata, I really am sorry you didn’t make it onto the team.”
“Thanks, Tsukki.”
He goes to bed confused and upset that night. For one, Shouyou hates that he’s back in his childhood room, confined to a twin-sized bed that is still bigger than him. He remembers going over to Kageyama’s house once and giggling at how Kageyama's feet hung off the end of the bed.
He hates seeing all the medals and trophies they got from making it to nationals in high school and how he feels like he’ll never amount to anything ever again. He’s sleeping in a bed meant for a child and working at a convenience store while everyone else he knows is getting used to being an adult.
And that night, Shouyou dreams of Kageyama standing in front of him again, wearing his all-white Adlers uniform, smiling with outstretched arms. He isn’t sure what it means, but it’s comforting for the short time he gets to be there with a friend.
The version of his friend that he pictures every time he closes his eyes. A true best friend, not the sorry excuse he got during high school.
The next morning Shouyou goes to work. It’s another quiet day, but he tasks himself with writing a text to all his old teammates and friends about his lie. That’s the easy part; hitting send will be another story.
The door chimes and Shouyou looks up. He locks eyes with none other than Sugawara Koushi.
For a moment, fear fills his body, and then he relaxes. Maybe he doesn’t need to send a text when he can talk to his old upperclassmen instead. He forgot Sugawara still lived and worked in Sendai. How has it only been now that they’ve run into each other?
Sugawara whispers something to the two other men he’s with— coworkers, perhaps— and walks over to the counter. He’s wearing a dark green cardigan over a shirt and tie and his hair is swept out of his face. He looks like a proper adult, Shouyou decides, and nothing like the mess he’s become.
“Hinata? What are you doing here?”
“I uhm,” Shouyou swallows thickly. Maybe this won’t be as easy as he thought. “I work here.”
“I thought you were in Osaka. With the Jackals?”
“Yeah. About that.” He looks down at the counter, unable to look at the pain and betrayal he’ll see on Sugawara’s face. “I may have, uhm, been lying about making it onto the team.”
“What?” Sugawara’s voice cracks. Shouyou squeezes his eyes shut and blinks as hard as he can.
“I’m so sorry, Suga-san. I really— I wanted to say something, but I was so scared that you would all think I was a loser so I let the charade continue and now I’m even more of a loser in the end. I was going to text the chat and tell everyone, but I didn’t… I didn’t know how to phrase it!”
“Why would you do that, Hinata?” Sugawara sounds disappointed. “You know we wouldn’t have thought that at all. Now you’ve lied to us and—” He scoffs. “Asahi is coming from Egypt! To see you! And you won’t even be playing?”
“There’s still Kageyama—”
“We’ve already seen him play! This whole thing was about supporting you and it’s all a big lie!”
“I know. And I’m so sorry. I never meant for it to last this long.” Shouyou squeezes back the tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“Would you have even said anything if I hadn’t seen you here?”
It’s quiet. Shouyou’s throat bobs and he feels like he might vomit. “Eventually,” he finally says, gathering enough courage to meet Sugawara’s eyes. He’s never seen his senpai get angry at him; only ever on his behalf. This hurts.
“You need to make things right,” Suga demands. “Tell everyone in that chat that you’re not playing.”
“I will—”
“And don’t lie to me again.” He’s deadly serious. “We’re friends, you and me. I’m never going to make fun of you for failing.”
Failure. It feels like a stab to Shouyou’s heart. “I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely.
“And if I would have known you’ve been in Sendai the past nine months, I would have offered to buy you lunch. Let me know when you have some time off, okay?”
“You don’t hate me?”
“Of course I don’t hate you.” Sugawara smiles softly, and Shouyou can tell it’s genuine. “Am I mad you lied? Obviously. But that isn’t going to stop me from being your friend and it certainly isn’t going to make me hate you. I could never hate you.”
“Thank you, Suga. I’ve missed you.”
“You never had to miss me, dude! I’m right here in town! Whenever you want to hang out! Daichi can come too. Let’s just move past this first, okay? You’ll have a much tougher audience to convince.”
Right. That. Shouyou nods.
After a few more minutes of idle conversation, Sugawara and his fellow teacher companions leave with their purchases. Shouyou turns back to the text he has drafted up to send to the group chat.
Part of him feels like he should text Kageyama first.
No.
What is he thinking?
Kageyama isn’t going to care. He’ll probably be ecstatic that he’s still in the lead. And so, before Shouyou can psych himself out, he hits send and turns off his phone.
He’ll deal with the aftermath after his shift is done.
Everyone is upset with him. That much he knows.
Shouyou skipped over Tanaka’s reply, who he was able to deduce said some unsavory things by the other replies. Daichi also was not happy, and neither was Asahi. Of course, most of them promised to still attend to see Kageyama play, but Shouyou stayed out and away from the replies. He didn’t even bother to message back Yachi or Yamaguchi, both of whom wanted to know how they could help Shouyou “get back on his feet.”
He hates knowing that his friends are pitying him. He doesn’t need pity. He just needs patience. Once the start of next season comes around, he’ll get onto a team with ease and start from there. This isn’t the end of his career. He isn’t admitting defeat, not in the slightest.
So what if he’s sad? So what if sometimes he thinks things might be better for everyone if he disappeared? It doesn’t mean he’s giving up.
His phone rings while he’s getting ready for bed. Shouyou spits and reaches for it, hitting the answer button without checking the caller ID. He figures it’s probably his boss asking if he’ll stay for a few more hours since he’s the only full-time employee.
Instead, he’s met with anger and malice.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Shouyou’s toothbrush clatters on the counter. He grabs his phone and darts into his room, hoping his mother didn’t hear Kageyama’s language all the way in the den. Shouyou takes it off the speakerphone and holds it up to his ear.
“What do you want?”
“I want to know why you lied about getting onto a professional volleyball team.”
“Because I should have made it on!” He finds himself raising his voice without meaning to. Kageyama has that effect on him, especially lately, because that man is doing something to Shouyou that he can’t quite explain. “And then I went and tried out for two others and they all acted like I was insane for trying out!”
“That’s because you suck at volleyball.”
“No, I fucking DON’T!” Now Shouyou is screaming. Tears burst from his eyes like the sprinklers outside. “Fuck you, asshole. You have done nothing but make me feel angry and shitty from the moment I met you. This is exactly why I didn’t tell anybody. It was better to go on letting everyone think I was successful for a little while instead of immediately knowing I’m a fucking failure! We aren’t all incredibly lucky like you, Kageyama! I’m so sorry I can’t walk onto a court and get my dicked sucked by the entire staff!”
“What did you waste your time on the past two years, then? Was Brazil worth nothing to you?”
“I guess not.” Shouyou sniffs and stands up straight. He’s seeing red. “Hey, congrats man. You get to stay on the court the longest. Have a good fucking time playing against the Jackals, because I sure as hell won’t be there to watch you lose. How about you don’t call me ever again while we’re at it?”
“Shouyou—”
“Suck my fucking cock.” He hangs up and chucks his phone so hard against the opposite wall of the bedroom that his screen shatters. Shouyou isn’t even phased. He shouts in anger, driving his hand into the drywall behind him before tearing down every award, medal, and trophy he has off the walls. He can hear his mother yelling for him to quiet down— she even knocks on the door and demands to know what is going on. He doesn’t answer, nor does he bother opening the door. Instead, he hides in the corner and cries until he runs out of tears.
The winter is cold. Shouyou isolates himself from his friends. He blocked Kageyama back in November and doesn’t bother investigating what he’s up to. Shouyou hasn’t watched a volleyball match in ages. In fact, he doesn’t do much of anything these days besides work and going to the gym. There are hundreds of ignored messages from Yachi, Yamaguchi, and even Sugawara, wanting to know if everything is okay.
The answer is no. Shouyou is not okay. He’s angry and upset and feels like a failure. He has no college degree, a full-time job at a market store, and he lives with his mother. He hates everything about himself and about what his life has become.
The only saving grace of it all is the chance of getting accepted next season. He’s been practicing volleyball as much as he can and going to the gym on the weekends to stay in shape. Ukai helps him with his receives and the neighborhood association teaches him skill and agility rather than relying on raw power and talent. He’s still incredibly determined to kick Kageyama’s ass, especially after the last conversation they had. Screw that guy! What does he know about rejection and failure?
The thing is, Shouyou knows perfectly well that Kageyama knows about rejection and failure, but he refuses to acknowledge it because the circumstances are different. Kageyama recovered from his rejection and failure in middle school and Shouyou is currently going through the wringer to make sure he recovers from that as well.
He’ll get through because he’s Hinata Shouyou and he’s never once backed down from a challenge, not even when he was shorter and weaker than those threatening him. Hinata Shouyou is not sad; he is happy and positive and he’ll kick sadness in the ass just like he will with Kageyama.
Unfortunately, despite his attempts at pulling away from old friends, it doesn’t stop them from showing up at his house. Tsukishima, Yachi, and Yamaguchi are all there when he gets home from work one evening, speaking to his mother when he walks in the front door. He hates how his first thought is that Kageyama is not with them.
“Ah!” His mother announces loudly as she stands up from the table. Shouyou awkwardly looks around the room. “There he is. Shouyou, some friends of yours came to visit!”
“I can see that,” he replies as he shrugs off his coat. Yamaguchi smiles as he steps forward.
“Hey, Hinata. We were hoping maybe you’d come get dinner with us.”
“Uh,” he glances over at his mother, who eagerly shakes her head. Guess that answers that, then. “Sure. Just let me change.”
“Of course! Take as long as you need.”
Shouyou changes slowly. He really doesn’t want to go out with those three because he knows they are going to be up his ass about everything that’s happened over the last few months. And sure, Shouyou knows it’s his fault, but that doesn’t mean he wants to talk about it regardless.
They end up going to a small cafe in town. Yachi sits next to Shouyou while Tsukishima and Yamaguchi sit across from him. Shouyou has barely touched his food because the idea of eating makes him sick.
“So, uh, Shou-chan. How are you?” Yachi asks. Shouyou puts on his best fake smile.
“I’m great. How are you guys doing?”
“Good,” says Yamaguchi. “I’m in my last semester of school. I have an internship with a big electronics company starting in April!”
“That’s cool,” says Shouyou, looking at Tsukishima, who shrugs.
“I’m still at the history museum. Don’t know what more to tell you.”
“Tsukki graduated early because he’s a genius,” Yamaguchi gushes. Tsukishima rolls his eyes.
“Hinata already knows that, Tadashi.”
“I’m working as a graphic designer for the JVA,” Yachi says happily. “I’m actually in the marketing department with Kuroo-san. Right now I’m only part-time, but he said he’d offer me a full-time position after graduation.”
“Congratulations.”
“What about you, Shou?” Yamaguchi’s smile wavers for only a second. He doesn’t mean it, Shouyou thinks. It’s only pity.
“I’m just waiting for April to come so I can make it to tryouts.”
“Are you going to try out for the Jackals again?”
“Probably.”
“Did you see the guy they ended up going with? He’s seven feet tall!”
“No,” Shouyou murmurs, “I haven’t been keeping up.”
“And Kageyama got picked up by the Italian team,” Yachi adds. “Once this season is over, he’s moving to Rome.”
“Awesome.”
“Hinata?” Yamaguchi is still staring at him. Observing might even be the better word because he’s looking at Shouyou like he’s scared of what might happen.
He’s looking at Shouyou like the redhead is a zoo animal.
“What?”
“Are you... sure you’re okay? We just wanted to check because of what happened back in November.”
“I’m sorry I lied to you guys, but nothing crazy has happened since then. It’s February. I’m moving on.”
“You’ve just been really quiet.”
“Yeah,” agrees Yachi. She rests her hand on top of Shouyou’s own. “You haven’t posted on social media, said anything in the group chat, or even asked to hang out with us. We just wanted to let you know that we all care about you, no matter what. We aren’t mad about what happened in November. We mostly want to figure out why.”
“Because I didn’t want to look like a loser, okay?” Shouyou forces out a laugh. “It was a stupid thing to do, I know that. I promise you guys that it won’t ever happen again, okay? From now on, I’m only going to be honest.”
“So tell us why you have Kageyama blocked,” says Tsukishima. Shouyou’s heart skips a beat.
“Because I don’t want to talk to that jerk ever again.”
“I don’t understand,” Yachi exclaims, “I thought you guys were best friends. He’s been texting me and asking about you, Shou-chan.”
“Well that’s great, but I don’t care what he has to say to me.”
“So tell us what happened.”
“He’s been a jerk to me since high school! Haven’t you guys paid any attention to the things he said to me? He constantly told me how bad I sucked at volleyball and I’m pissed because maybe he was right!” Shouyou stops to compose himself. This isn’t what he’s supposed to look like, especially in front of his friends. After a deep breath, he smiles. “We’ve moved on. Grown apart. That happens when you don’t see someone every day.”
“Do you even want to see us?” Yamaguchi asks, his smile now a lopsided frown.
“Of course I do! I’ve just been busy, that’s all. Between volleyball and work, I don’t have a lot of time to do other things. Once tryout season comes, I’ll be a lot better. I just don’t want to mess this up this time. That’s all.”
“You aren’t a failure, Shouyou.” Yamaguchi’s voice is soft and kind, but it still makes Shouyou upset.
“What is this, some kind of intervention? I told you guys I’m fine, okay? I couldn’t have expected to show up and succeed on my first try. I’m just trying to get by right now. Please don’t make me feel bad.”
“We just want to make sure—”
“I don’t need any of you to act like my parents!” Shouyou pushes out from the table in a fit of rage. “I should have known what you guys were up to.”
“None of us are up to anything!” Yachi exclaims, reaching out to tug on Shouyou’s sleeve. Yamaguchi nods.
“I promise there are no ulterior motives—”
“It’s okay! Everything is okay.” Shouyou forces another smile. “I said I’m fine, okay? Can you believe me when I say that?
“Yes, fine,” Tsukishima finally chimes in, obviously annoyed he had to be here in the first place. “Can you sit down and stop embarrassing us?”
Shouyou listens even though he’s still irritated. They finish the rest of their meal in silence.
It isn’t until they get back to his house that he realizes his friends are only doing this because they are worried about him. He knows he’s cut himself off from a lot of things, which means he hasn’t been doing the best job at keeping up appearances. He just needs to thank them and move on. He’s completely, utterly, entirely fine.
“Mom,” he asks as he comes into the kitchen where his mother is fixing up tea for the guests (who are currently sitting in the living room.) “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, what’s up?” The electric kettle starts to squeal and she turns to grab it.
“I seem fine, don’t I? Mentally?”
His mother freezes for just a moment. It’s a “blink and you’ll miss it” movement that Shouyou doesn’t pay any mind to. “Of course, honey. Why? Did someone say something otherwise?”
“It’s just my friends. They were acting like I was gonna do something stupid because I hadn’t posted on social media in a while. It kinda just felt like they were scrutinizing me or something.”
“Did you tell them everything was fine?”
“Yes! I’ve just been really focused on training. You know that too, right?”
“Of course. Can you grab the mugs from the cabinet please?”
Shouyou listens and pulls down the tea mugs from his mother. Even though he’s still short, he’s taller than her. “What should I say?”
“Just thank them for expressing concern. It’s very nice that you have people looking out for you.”
“Yeah,” Shouyou nods, even though he can’t help but feel like it’d be better if Kageyama was here too.
Yachi, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi stay for another hour sipping tea and sharing stories. Shouyou apologizes for his outburst and thanks them for caring enough to check-in. He determines right there that he’s going to take better care of himself and his appearance so people don’t worry. He doesn’t need something like this to happen again.
“Hey, Hinata,” Yamaguchi calls as the group is getting ready to go. The three of them are staying at Tsukishima’s parent's place for the night since Yachi’s mother is out of town and Yamaguchi’s parents have late nights at work. “Sometimes Tsukki and I go to the open gym at the volleyball courts in Sendai if you ever want to come with us sometime. We’d love to have you.”
Shouyou’s gaze moves from Yamaguchi to Tsukishima, who slowly nods his head. He doesn’t mean that. He’s just agreeing because Tadashi is nice.
“Thanks,” he says, nodding back. “I’d like that.”
Then, they are gone, and Shouyou sits down on the sofa alone. He can hear his mother washing dishes in the kitchen and Natsu talking to someone on the phone in her bedroom. Shouyou stares at the dark screen of the unused television. A hand drags down his face; he needs to shave.
“Just a few more months,” Shouyou whispers to himself.