Chapter Text
The afternoon’s bright orange rays pierced through the half-open window, and the room reeked of spring’s floral embrace.
Kageyama wasn’t the type of guy who kept his window open, hence why he closed it the moment he stepped foot in his room.
The calendar hung on his wall signaled It was late into march, and his last day at Kiitagawa Daiichi just ended. Not like anyone would miss him, the King of the Court. In addition, everyone surrounding him whispered about how he was finally gone for good. Kageyama believed them, but if he didn’t pressure his teammates, who would’ve? No one wanted to climb to the top as much as he did.
Or so he thought.
He wouldn’t find out, yet.
He still had to improve at setting, wait for the approval of the high schools he tried out for, and remind his mother not to leave his damned window open. He loathed the insects that always found a way to enter his room whenever she left it open.
When his fingers curled around the cold metal of the window lock, he didn’t hesitate and slammed it shut. Hesitating was wrong. Especially on the court. If he lost track of anything, anytime, it sank on his chest like watching a volleyball he perfectly could’ve saved bounce in front of him.
It was too bright outside to be thinking about volleyballs bouncing on his side of the court.
He pulled on the curtains and the sudden lighting change drew him to rub his eyelids, which made phosphenes wander around his vision once he opened his eyes.
With steps similar to a drunken man, he approached his bed and trust-fell into the soft cushions with a tiny thud. His weighted blanket welcomed and hugged him with warmth, while his head was supported by his rather hard pillows. His sister Miwa always complains about neck pain, and no matter how much Kageyama recommends these pillows to her, she always refuses to sleep with these so-called “rocks”.
Kageyama’s hand looked blindly for his phone charger, while his phone was barely surviving on 2 percent. Once he felt that familiar cable in his fingertips, he quickly plugged his phone in before it could reach the last percentage. He hated odd numbers.
Only when he heard that familiar sound of the phone announcing it’s charging, he allowed himself a slow blink and awareness as to where he was right now. He finished middle school. It was his last day. He will probably never see any of the people he once called his teammates on his side of the court. Not like he cared anyway.
His eyes finally shut, and the day’s stress finally kicked in. His wrists were destroyed from constant writing, and his fingers bruised beyond repair. The “Best Setter” trophy rested on his wooden nightstand along with a picture of his family, while the academic achievements medal he received today weighed heavier and heavier on his chest every time he drew a breath.
Funny how he couldn’t remember the last time he actually had the time to develop a social life. Kageyama was practically drowning in studies and volleyball practice every time he woke up and went to sleep.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in,” He mumbled.
No one did.
”Come in,” He stated.
Silence.
The force of the knocking increased, it just got louder and louder.
By the time Kageyama realized it was a pounding in his head, his eyelids were too heavy to register his ceiling’s shade of white.
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The shade of white was certainly different when he struggled to lift his eyes.
The ceiling was lit with blue-toned office lights, and he could only assume he was at the hospital. Everyone surrounding him knew that this was a matter of time. The brightness made Kageyama frown as he turned his head to the side, just to be welcomed by his sister’s worried expression.
”What were you thinking, Tobio?” Miwa stammered, her eyebrow raised and her nails bitten.
Kageyama could only sigh. This had happened more than once; every stressing day accumulated in his life could make anyone shatter overtime. Thank goodness for this all coming to a temporary end.
”What time is it?” Kageyama requested with a croaky, raspy voice. He assumed it had been more than eight hours by the way he spoke.
”It’s 5:37 a.m., and gosh, your breath stinks…” Miwa shot back.
Kageyama couldn’t remember the last time they held a conversation without bickering for longer than five minutes. Matter of fact, he couldn’t bring himself to try and remember anything; the fog in his brain just got thicker and thicker.
”The doctors said it was a stress-induced migraine, so don’t worry too much.” Miwa stated. “Don’t try to use your head too much either. I have to go and get ready for work, if anything happens make sure to give me a call.” She added, briefly looking at Kageyama’s phone which was resting on the small table next to him.
Miwa looked at her brother as if she was assessing him, however, her worried eyes and purple eye bags gave every thought away. Miwa sighed and kissed Kageyama on his forehead before she took her brown leather purse and left. In her head, her brother was independent enough to know what to do, so she left the situation in his hands. Her clock was ticking anyways.
Once his sister’s footsteps became increasingly distant, Kageyama opened his palm in front of his mouth attempting to smell his breath, and to no one’s surprise, it did smell disgusting. He frowned. This was so unhygienic.
A nurse quietly put the room’s curtain aside making room so she could enter.
”Good morning, Mr. Kageyama,” she said with a formal, yet strained tone.
No one could blame her. No one would like to attend people at five thirty in the morning.
“I came to inform you that you are allowed to take leave in the afternoon, once you get rest and we medicate you. Your father paid your hospital bills through transference.” She cleared her throat, biting back a painful, much needed yawn. “If you are in need of anything, please click the button to your left.” And with that, the nurse bowed to him and closed the curtain, taking her leave. A few seconds later, he heard a yawn in the distance.
He sighed, looking to his left. There was in fact a button there, and he wondered whether if he would eventually press it or not.
——————————————————————
He did press it. He asked for help to stand up so he could walk around the cold, biting halls of the place.
The hospital air is extremely heavy, charged with all sorts of situations one could imagine. The sun is barely rising, golden streaks of light showing through the closed windows which were merging with the blue-white lights in the ceiling.
It is such a complex place. While he was there because of an insignificant migraine that most likely will happen again, and a sister that worried too much for her own good, there are people here seeing each other for the last and first time. Someone holding their newborn baby and someone holding their dying mother’s hand. Kageyama wondered what he would do if he were in that situation, he barely saw his mother after she got promoted at her office job.
he shook his head, remembering his sister’s words. Every step got lighter as he walked, and he was no longer feeling as heavy as before. He wouldn’t allow himself to take a deep breath. The risk of sickness now that he was in a hospital just increased. Sickness and the bench were synonyms for him. Synonyms that he dreaded relating to someday.
It was already 8:00 a.m.
Kageyama would have been in math if he were still in school. Not that he missed it, right? Most likely, he just missed the sensation of setting.
With that, Kageyama turned back and walked the polished hospital floors on the way to his room.
When he sat on the bed, he looked at his reflection on the floor. It was barely visible, but it was there. How long does it take to get floors this clean? Enough. He grabbed his phone, and the picture of him and his sister shone brightly on him. He just blinked back. After he unlocked his phone, he saw it was automatically connected to the hospital’s WiFi. It was either his sister or him forgetting that he had been in this situation before.
The vibrations practically swallowed his phone.
26 missed calls from ‘Miwa my bestest sister.’ He recalled how she first put this alias on his phone, and he replaced the sea of emojis with a period. Tobio thought it looked clean, and Miwa thought it looked ridiculous.
There were no calls from his parents. He knew they cared, they were just busy. They were always busy. If they weren’t busy, how else would his bills have been paid?
Kageyama decided to rest his eyes and mind for a second. He put his phone on the table to his right. It certainly wasn’t helping the increasing of the lingering effects of this migraine that was about to drive him apeshit.
Darkness drowned his vision, and the smell of cherry blossom scented detergent filled his nostrils with every breath. Everything felt so artificial, so… calculated.
He spared his phone a look, and turned his strained neck to the right. The lack of breakfast was making him more nauseous every second. Kageyama told himself a little doomscroll wouldn’t hurt.
He scrolled reels, drowned in Reddit rabbit holes with subway surfers and slime on the background, short clips of recent volleyball matches of the prefecture, and several comparisons and opinions of whether molten or mikasa volleyballs are better.
Eventually, as one does, he spent the little time of four hours total on his phone. His head was a disaster, and his stomach? Worse.
It was already the afternoon, which meant Kageyama could go to the front desk, ask for his prescription, and retrieve his insurance card. As he walked the same polished floors, his head and stomach throbbed in unison. He slipped his ID and insurance in his pocket, and held the prescription close to his face since he could barely read anything stated in there, except that one familiar word. It was that same pill. Imitrex. He already had about two untouched boxes of those in his nightstand drawer.
Since mostly everything was set, Kageyama needed to figure out what he was going to do about this drama queen stomach of his.
He opened one of the hospital’s glass doors, and slid through the bustling street in front of him. He then crumpled up and tossed the prescription in the trashcan next to a bench a few steps away from the hospital.
——————————————————————
The smell of curry buns in the sidewalk lured Kageyama like a cartoon smelling a pie resting on a windowsill. The temperature was nicer today—not too sunny, not too clouded—just how he liked it. The fresh breeze gently blew into Kageyama’s face, just making the scent of the damned curry buns stronger. His stomach was about to commit cannibalism and eat itself alive, until—luckily—he finally found the source of the scent. A little convenience store with an advertisement which said: ‘Delicious Buns, Just for You’, in bright neon lights, in the middle of the afternoon.
Kageyama could only roll his eyes and chuckle to himself. At least the scent of the buns saved them from ridicule, and he hoped the buns tasted as good as they smelled.
Barely anyone was there, just two families which by the looks of it seemed to frequent this place. There weren’t many options to choose from, but all of them looked good enough. Anything would’ve been good enough at this point. In the end, Kageyama ordered two pork curry buns the size of his hand and a bottle of water to wash down everything that had happened to him today.
The placement for the convenience store was not convenient at all. It was surrounded by rivaling stores full of clients, and a very busy street with no bus stops or any reason to stop there whatsoever. The only way one could end up there would’ve been on purpose or extreme luck.
Today, for Kageyama, it was extreme luck.
Those curry buns were beyond good, the water was so crispy he felt it slowly travel throughout his esophagus, the air smelled nice and wasn’t heavy at all, he was completely alone, and had nothing or no one to worry about.
Tobio took a deep breath, and allowed himself a small smile.
The headache was now just a dull throb in the back of his head. It was completely drowned out by how absolutely wonderful this afternoon was.
And then he appeared.
A guy his age, with disheveled tangerine hair panted and supported his hands on his knees. He looked like ran all the way here.
His face looked familiar, but impossible to pinpoint. Just where did he know him from?
Kageyama stalked as the guy composed himself and strode towards the owner, who smiled brightly when he saw him. The owner ruffled the tangerine’s already wild hair and handed him what seemed like two chicken curry buns that were waiting for him in the small oven. Tobio might be wrong, he can barely see anything from afar without his glasses.
As the guy tried to pay, the owner kept refusing until the guy slapped the owner’s arm. He recognized that kind of slap. It wasn’t a slap, it looked as if he was spiking that arm. Interesting.
The owner’s face turned red, he took the money, and smiled again at the tangerine as he rubbed the reddened spot in his arm. That was a remarkable spike.
Then, the tangerine smiled back.
Tobio’s eyes softened.
He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen a smile as beautiful before.