Chapter Text
The snow gathers around him in soft, delicate flakes. Coating the ground in a delicate, fragile sheen of pure white. The grey of the sky only broken by the yellow and blue of the volleyball that Kageyama tosses into the air, watching with laser focus as the colours stand out against the endless clouds before falling back towards the earth, towards his waiting hands. It’s meditative in a way, standing alone amongst the snow, mind empty other than his constant focus on the trajectory of the ball. There are no footprints to break the blanket that the snow forms around him, as it had started falling shortly after he assumed his position, and he had been out here long enough for it to gather a sizeable amount. It wasn’t storming, not yet. So he saw no need to break his routine. The crisp air helped him concentrate, every inhale like icy daggers, keeping his mind sharp and reminding him why he’s here.
Winter break is on the cusp of being over, and their spring training camp is just around the corner. It would be their first training camp without their Daichi, without their ace or their most reliable setter. The new first years showed potential, and Ennoshita was a great captain just as Daichi said he’d be, but all that only pushed Kageyama’s resolve to further heights. They have more to prove now than ever before, that the changes in their team did nothing to make them any less dangerous, any less of a threat. He had promised that he’d reach even higher heights with them, and had no intentions of breaking his word. He was certain that Hinata was training just as hard as him despite the weather, so he saw no reason to let something as trivial as a light chill slow him down any either. The snow continued to fall. The ball continued to rise.
“Tobio!”
He jumped. The ball slipping clumsily off his fingers and thudding dully to the ground, leaving its imprint, breaking the continuous sea of white that surrounded him and with it, the trance that he had fallen into. He watched the ball roll away, and followed its trajectory towards Miwa, who was making her way over to him quite crossly, arms folded over her chest. She was wearing her winter jacket over her house clothes, and the sight of it reminded him of his own bare arms covered in gooseflesh. He shivered, suddenly very cold.
“What on earth are you doing out here without a coat? Or at least long sleeves- seriously you can be so reckless. How long have you been out here?”
He grumbles but lets himself be manhandled by her as she takes him by the shoulders and all but drags him back towards the house.
“Not that long, and it’s easier to practice without sleeves. I’m fine.”
She huffs and shakes her head but doesn’t comment further, knowing it's useless to argue with him when it comes to practice. The temperature difference between the inside of the house and the outside is great enough to make his frozen fingers sting as the circulation returns to them. Miwa takes off her coat and shoes and watches him rub his hands together, her brow furrowing in worry.
“I’ll go run you a warm bath.”
He half expected to have already adjusted to the temperature of the house by then, but the water still makes his skin sting by the time Miwa calls him to the bath. He knows better than to complain about the temperature, can already picture her worry lines deepening as she claims that the water is only lukewarm, so he doesn’t bother and lets the heat soak into his sore bones. Hopefully the odd ache in his chest will be washed away by the water as easily as the cold is. As he was practicing, he had assumed it a side effect of breathing in the frigid air, but it felt deeper, more throbbing now. He groaned and allowed himself to sink deeper into the water until only his eyes remained over the surface. It was nice, and really there was nothing that food and rest wouldn’t fix. He knew, logically, that coach Ukai would probably be upset at him outside as he was, clench his cigarette between his teeth and give some grand lecture about how if all training did was break the body down then it was useless. But their parents had taken the only car on their business trip and would be gone for who knows how long, he had truly stopped bothering to ask at this point, and if he even breathed the suggestion of biking to a gym with the current road conditions Miwa would probably have a conniption. So really what else was he supposed to do?
He hadn’t realised that he was falling asleep until Miwa’s knocking on the door startled him awake badly enough that he banged his head on the back of the bathtub, at which point the door flew open and he had to convince her that he really was fine and had just dozed off a bit. She looked even less convinced than before somehow, but eventually left the towels she was carrying down and gave him privacy to dry off and get changed.
He did feel sorry for worrying her so much, really, he hadn’t meant to, and so wordlessly set and took care of the dishes before and after their quiet dinner together. Miwa understood, like she always somehow did, and ruffled his hair gently as he dried off the last plate.
“I just want you to take better care of yourself, so you can play as best as you can with your friends.”
The words made him flush, and she laughed at his flustered face and bid him good night. Even Miwa could see that things were different now than they used to be, even if he didn’t talk about it. Knew that now, he was no longer training just for himself, just to be the absolute best he could be.
Now, he was training to be the best he could be for them.
The words he said at the end of their final match against Kamomedai rang in his mind.
It may not be the exact same team as before, but he wants to take them even higher, wants to bring Hinata to the finals again, so they can make up for last year.
School will start up again soon, and with it, their first training camp will be right around the corner.
He imagines the feeling of the ball bouncing off his fingertips, into the hand of a waiting spike, he can imagine it perfectly, imagine the sound of the ball hitting the opposite end of the court.
The throbbing in his chest is excitement, he’s certain of it.
———————
The first day back at school brought with it the sound of shoes crunching the grey mulch that was made out of the snow and the smell of early spring.
The hallways buzzed with the restless energy that always followed winter break, loud voices bouncing off the walls as students compared homework they hadn’t done and complained about the cold. Kageyama ignored most of it. His volleyball bag weighed heavily against his shoulder as he changed into his indoor shoes with quick, efficient movements, already thinking about practice.
Training camp.
The thought had lived somewhere in the back of his mind ever since coach Ukai confirmed it before break. Tokyo again. Fukurodani Academy. Nekoma. Shinzen. Ubugawa.
Strong teams.
Strong setters.
Strong blockers.
The familiar spark of anticipation curled hot beneath his ribs.
And then pain twisted sharply through the center of his chest.
Kageyama froze for half a second.
It vanished almost immediately, leaving behind only a dull ache. Easy to ignore. Easy to explain away.
He straightened and continued walking.
“Oi! Kageyama!”
Hinata nearly crashed into him at full speed in the hallway, skidding slightly before catching himself. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold outside, orange hair a complete disaster beneath his scarf.
“You’re early,” Kageyama said.
“You’re earlier,” Hinata shot back immediately. Then he grinned. “Did you practice over break?”
Kageyama stared at him flatly. “Obviously.”
Hinata puffed up indignantly. “Well I obviously practiced too.”
“Then let's see if your receives still suck.”
“They do not suck! I’ve been training them, like, crazy!”
“They absolutely suck.”
Hinata made an outraged noise and shoved at his shoulder as they walked toward the gym. The contact was light, familiar. Kageyama found himself relaxing slightly despite the lingering ache in his chest.
The gym was already warm with activity by the time they arrived. Shoes squeaked against polished wood. Volleyballs smacked rhythmically against the floor. Nishinoya was somehow louder than everyone else combined.
“ROLLING THUNDEERRR-”
“Stop screaming first thing in the morning,” Tsukishima groaned.
“You stop being grumpy first thing in the morning!”
Ennoshita spotted them while organizing equipment. “You two are on toss practice first. Coach wants everyone easing back in before the camp.”
Hinata lit up immediately. “Got it!”
Kageyama nodded and headed for the court.
Practice settled into rhythm quickly.
Toss. Spike. Receive. Block.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The familiar repetition soothed him. His body moved automatically, years of instinct and training carving certainty into every motion. Hinata darted across the court with relentless energy, the sound of his feet darting across the hardwood music to his ears as he chased every set Kageyama sent him.
“Higher!” Hinata shouted.
“You were late.”
“I was not!”
“You were.”
Another toss.
Another spike.
The ball cracked against the floor.
“Too far left!”
“That was perfect. Your timing sucked.”
Hinata glared at him from across the net. “You always blame me!”
“Because it’s usually your fault.”
“It is not!”
Despite himself, Kageyama felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward.
The pain returned midway through practice.
A sudden tightness.
Sharp enough this time that his breath caught.
His next toss slipped slightly too low.
Hinata still hit it cleanly, but he landed with a frown instead of his usual immediate demand for another.
“That was weird.”
Kageyama flexed his fingers once. “It was fine.”
Hinata stared at him for a second longer than usual.
Kageyama turned away before he could look too closely.
Coach Ukai blew his whistle from the sidelines. “Take five!”
The team scattered toward water bottles and towels. Kageyama sat near the wall, elbows resting on his knees as he forced his breathing back into rhythm. Sweat cooled against the back of his neck unpleasantly.
It was probably just exhaustion.
The cold weather.
Overtraining, maybe.
Nothing serious.
“You look gross.”
Kageyama looked up to find Hinata crouching directly in front of him, holding their water bottles.
“You always look gross,” Kageyama replied automatically.
Hinata ignored that and shoved one bottle into his hands. “You missed three tosses.”
“I did not.”
“You did too.”
Kageyama unscrewed the cap and drank instead of answering.
Hinata tilted his head slightly, studying him with unsettling focus. For someone usually so loud and impulsive, Hinata noticed things far too easily sometimes.
“You sick or something?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
A beat of silence.
Then Hinata grinned suddenly, bright and uncomplicated. “You better not collapse before training camp. Kenma said he’s actually motivated this time.”
Kageyama snorted quietly. “That’s impossible.”
“It’s true! He texted me yesterday.”
“Creepy.”
“You’re just jealous because he likes me more.”
“That’s because your intelligence level matches his cat.”
Hinata gasped dramatically. “He likes me because I’m fun.”
“He tolerates you.”
“Same difference.”
The whistle blew again before Hinata could continue arguing.
Practice resumed.
By the end of it, Kageyama’s jersey clung damply to his back and every inhale felt slightly wrong. Not enough to stop him. Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Probably.
Still, he found himself pressing a hand briefly against the center of his chest while the others cleaned up equipment.
The ache pulsed steadily beneath his palm.
“You’re doing it again.”
Kageyama jerked his hand away immediately.
Hinata stood nearby holding a basket of volleyballs, brows furrowed.
“Doing what?”
“That weird thing.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Hinata narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Kageyama grabbed another volleyball before he could keep asking questions. “You’re staying late, right?”
The distraction worked instantly.
Hinata’s expression brightened. “Obviously!”
They stayed after the others left.
The gym grew quieter without the noise of the full team, the winter evening settling blue and dim beyond the high windows. Their footsteps echoed lightly across the court.
Kageyama tossed.
Hinata ran.
Again.
Again.
Again.
“Faster!” Hinata demanded after one quick attack.
“You almost hit the antenna.”
“But I didn’t.”
“Barely.”
Another toss flew high.
Hinata launched himself upward, body twisting midair before his palm slammed into the ball with a satisfying crack.
“YES!”
Kageyama watched the ball bounce across the floor.
Perfect.
A familiar thrill sparked through him despite the exhaustion weighing down his limbs.
“That one,” Hinata said between breaths, grinning fiercely, “do that one again at camp.”
“You still jumped too early.”
Hinata pointed accusingly. “You ruin every cool moment.”
“That’s because your form sucks.”
“It does not!”
Their voices bounced around the empty gym.
For a while, things felt simple again.
Just volleyball.
Just them.
Then Kageyama bent to pick up another ball and dizziness hit him hard enough that the floor tilted sideways.
Pain lanced through his chest.
Sharp.
Violent.
He sucked in a breath too quickly and immediately regretted it.
“Kageyama?”
Hinata’s voice sounded farther away than it should have.
Kageyama straightened immediately before he could notice anything wrong. “One more.”
Hinata hesitated. Then slowly, reluctantly, nodded.
Kageyama set the ball.
Hinata flew.
The spike thundered against the court.
Perfect.
By the time they finally left the gym, snow had started falling again.
Not heavily.
Just enough to dust the sidewalks white beneath the streetlights.
Hinata walked beside him bundled in his scarf, still talking excitedly about training camp, about all the people who he couldn’t wait to play against again. Kageyama couldn’t stop the twinge of fondness that bloomed in his chest. Hinata really was like the sun, naturally attracting people to him with his light, or however it was that the sun drew things in. He snapped out of his thoughts when Hinata punctuated his next sentence with a giant leap forward, and promptly almost slipped in the now freshly fallen snow.
Hinata spluttered as he laughed, only cutting himself short when he thought he would break out into a cough.
“Anyway!” Hinata recovered, regaining his footing. "I’m definitely gonna beat them this time.”
“You said that last year.”
“And this year I mean it more.”
“That’s not how improvement works.”
Hinata ignored him completely. “And Lev said he got taller again.”
“He’s already annoyingly tall.”
“I know, right? It’s unfair.”
Kageyama listened quietly as they walked.
Tokyo.
Fukurodani.
Another chance to get stronger.
Another chance to climb higher.
The ache in his chest lingered stubbornly beneath every breath, but he shoved it aside like he always did. They were so close now, he couldn’t slow them down for something so small, he was supposed to bring them to the top, not make them drag behind. He would ignore it. It didn’t matter. As long as he could still play, it didn’t matter.
Ahead of them, the lights of the station glowed warmly through the snowfall.
Soon they would leave for Tokyo.
And when they arrived, practice would begin again.