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It’s an average day.
Kageyama is tossing balls in the air and spiking them; Hinata is falling on his ass trying to receive them. They’re out on the dirt playing field beside the gym this lunch hour – the gym is off-limits during school time, reserved for PE classes. But all they really need is a volleyball and each other; the rest is window dressing.
Kageyama spikes down to the side hard and Hinata leaps after it, legs catching together and ankle turning under him as he falls. He’s used to hitting the ground, used to the bruises and the friction burns. But today he feels a sharp pain in his ankle as he tumbles. It feels wrong.
The ball rolls away; a moment later a dark shadow comes to fall over his face. “Oi. You messed that up.”
He sits up; his ankle is throbbing and he runs his hands down over it. “I know. Think my ankle’s busted.”
Kageyama sucks in a breath. “Broken?”
“Nuh-uh. Just a bit twisted.” He tries moving it back and forth; it hurts, but it’s not unmanageable.
“‘A bit’ twisted,” says Kageyama, sceptically. He squats down and reaches out long fingers to push up Hinata’s pants and roll down the white sock. There’s no outward sign that anything is wrong, but the aching continues. “It’ll start swelling soon. You need to see the nurse. Get some ice on it.”
Hinata blinks. “The nurse?”
“Yeah, dumbass. It’s what happens when you hurt yourself by messing up your receiving.”
He bristles. “I didn’t mess up. I slipped.” He makes to get up, and Kageyama drops a heavy hand on his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t walk on it.”
“What then? You want me to crawl to the nurse’s room?” He imagines the long trip on hands and knees and shudders.
Kageyama sighs. Still crouching, he turns his back to Hinata. “I’ll carry you, moron.”
For an instant Hinata stares at the setter’s wide shoulders, not understanding. Then: “What?”
Kageyama looks over his shoulder, face stormy. “Hurry it up or I’ll change my mind.”
Slowly, apprehensively, Hinata reaches out and pulls himself onto Kageyama’s back, his arms around Kageyama’s neck and his legs wrapped around his waist. In the summer sun Kageyama’s hot, the warmth of his body radiating through his thin dress shirt. His body is strong and solid against Hinata’s; with practice yet to come he smells now more of shampoo and soap than sweat, of cinnamon and mint. His dark hair is soft against Hinata’s face.
Then they stand, and it’s amazing. Having been around giants like Tsukishima and Aone and Lev, Hinata’s almost forgotten how much taller Kageyama is than him. How the extra centimeters that separate them give him a lofty view, both on and off the court.
“Uwaa!” He hugs Kageyama close and kicks out his legs as they reach full height, utterly dazzled by it. “This is awesome!”
“Stop that,” complains the setter, grabbing Hinata behind the knees and shaking him. “Hold on unless you want to fall off and hurt yourself again, idiot.”
“Kageyama! You’re so tall!” crows Hinata, craning his neck to look down – down! – at the other kids they pass as they head back to the school building.
“Stop shouting in my ear.”
“Don’t you see? Don’t you know? This is so cool!”
“Yeah, yeah,” grumbles Kageyama. “Just don’t fall off.”
Hinata’s in no danger of falling off. His hands are crossed over Kageyama’s chest – he can feel the steady thump of the setter’s heart, unaffected by the extra weight it’s carrying – and his legs are now wrapped around Kageyama’s waist. He never wants to let go, never wants to give up this height, this amazing sensation of control and power.
They enter the school building, only marginally cooler than the scorching outdoors, and walk slowly through the halls towards the nurse’s room. Hinata ignores the odd looks they get from the other kids and teachers – he’s too caught up in the moment.
“Kageyama,” he declares as they near the nurse’s room, “don’t you know how awesome you are?”
Kageyama stops dead in his tracks, his hands tightening on Hinata’s thighs. “I’m more than my height,” he says.
Hinata reaches up and touches the sign above the door reading nurse’s office without straining. “If I were this tall, I could go zoom and zip and spike balls like crazy!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kageyama reaches out and opens the door, stepping inside. “Excuse us!”
***
Hinata’s given an ice pack and told to wait in the nurse’s office until the inevitable swelling comes down. Kageyama calls his mother and arranges for them to drive Hinata home – the nurse says it’s not a sprain, just a twist, but he should be careful not to exacerbate it.
(“I can still practice though, right?”
“Do you not understand what exacerbate means?” demands Kageyama.
“No. Do you?”)
Hinata spends the afternoon lying on the bed, daydreaming about Nationals and icing his ankle. When the school bell chimes at the end of the day, Kageyama shows up to take him out to the street. “How’s the ankle?”
“Still hurts,” says Hinata, truthfully. “Swelling’s going down, though.”
“Hn. Shouldn’t risk it,” decides Kageyama, and come over to the bed. “C’mon.”
This time, Hinata doesn’t wait to be asked twice. He clambers up onto Kageyama’s back like a monkey, gleefully taking in the world from this new vantage point. They say goodbye to the nurse and go out into the busy hallway, students hurrying to club activities or cram school.
Hinata has never just gone home after school before. It feels weird. “Maybe I could just stay and watch practice,” he suggests.
“Don’t be an idiot. How could you ever just sit on the sidelines? We’d have to chain you down.”
It’s not untrue; the temptation of being in the gym during practice and not being able to participate… maybe it would be more like torture.
“Okay,” he says softly, his temple pressed against Kageyama’s dark hair. At least he’s not alone. Somehow, being this close to Kageyama buoys him up. Even outside the gym, without the rest of the team, he feels like he’s close to his sport. For him, volleyball started out as the Tiny Giant. But in the last year of middle school, it became so closely tied to Kageyama that now the ideas are almost inseparable.
“Don’t sound so bummed out. The nurse said it’s nothing major. You’ll be back tomorrow or the next day.”
“Yeah.” He presses his cheek closer to Kageyama, breaths in the smell of his shampoo. Not alone.
They exit the building out into the sunshine, and Hinata’s gloominess burns off almost instantly as he looks around the front grounds at a new, higher angle.
“I can see everything!”
***
The next morning his ankle feels just slightly weak, but strong enough for him to walk on; with his bike at school his mom gives him a ride in. They spot Kageyama walking through town on his way to school and Hinata gets his mom to stop and let him out.
“Oh, Hinata. Ankle better?”
It’s fine, is what Hinata is planning on saying – really and truly, cross his heart. But as his mouth opens yesterday flashes through his head: the joy of soaring above the rest of the kids, the awesomeness of being able to see everything. The contentment of being close to Kageyama. “Still hurts,” he finds himself saying.
Kageyama’s face scrunches up. “Should you be walking on it?”
Yes. “I dunno,” he says instead, wavering.
“Dumbass. What’ll happen if you really do injure it?” Kageyama sighs. “Come on; get on.” He crouches down beside Hinata. Hinata’s momentary flush of guilt disappears as soon as Kageyama stands, and he towers above everything.
“What did you do to deserve to be so lucky?” he asks.
“I was a saint in a past life,” replies Kageyama flatly. “I told you – there’s nothing special about being tall.”
“How can you say that?” asks Hinata, scandalized. “If I were tall I could do anything! I could be an iron wall, or deliver crushing spikes, or be a super-awesome setter, or…”
“That’s all volleyball, idiot.”
“Well duh. What else is there?”
Kageyama turns his head, and for a moment Hinata catches sight of his dark eyes – restive, fiery. Kageyama is a quiet guy, but he’s always watching. Always.
Hinata likes it best when the setter’s watching him.
“You have a one-track mind.”
Hinata drums his hands on Kageyama’s chest. “Don’t pretend like you’re any different.”
Kageyama hikes Hinata up higher onto his back. Hinata stills his hands and feels for the setter’s heartbeat: steady and strong. Just like him.
Hinata presses his nose close to Kageyama’s ear, feels the soft smoothness of it. It’s delicate in a way Kageyama isn’t. Hinata suddenly wants to pull at it, to tweak it, to bite it.
Wait – what?
He blinks, swallowing. Why would he want to bite Kageyama? His heart is thundering in his chest, his palms sweaty. There are butterflies in his stomach, a twisting, uncomfortable feeling. He’s suddenly very aware of how closely he’s hugging Kageyama, of the unbroken contact between his chest and Kageyama’s back, his groin and legs and Kageyama’s waist.
“What’s wrong?” asks Kageyama, apparently picking up on his sudden stillness.
“Nothing,” says Hinata, a little too quickly.
But it is nothing. Of course it is. What else could it be?
***
Hinata stays in at lunch, eating his bento and pretending to read his English notes.
In fact, he’s day dreaming. Not of Nationals this time, or of afternoon practice or meat buns.
He’s dreaming of riding on Kageyama’s back, of being taller than anything around him.
Of being with the setter, closer than ever. Of being complete.
For the first time in a long time, Hinata feels himself growing thoughtful.
***
He goes to practice that afternoon but is confined to practicing standing serves. He sits out the practice game, perching on the edge of the stage and watching the play while his muscles itch to be on the court.
Above all, he finds himself watching Kageyama. The way his eyes are always moving but he never loses his calm. The way his tosses always unerringly find their target. The way his rare spikes drive like nails into the ground.
Hinata suddenly realises that on- or off-court, he has eyes only for Kageyama. It’s not just that he’s the setter. It’s not just that he’s tall. It’s not just that he’s Hinata’s rival/friend/partner.
It’s more than that. Hinata wants to be with him, be close to him, be a part of him in a way he never has with anyone else. In a way that scares him, but also excites him.
Because Kageyama = volleyball to Hinata, and he’s pretty sure that to Kageyama Hinata = volleyball. And that means they need each other more than anything.
***
Hinata stays and helps put the balls and nets away, dawdling after the others until only him and Kageyama and Takeda-sensei are left. His ankle really is a little sore by the time they finish, and he stops to rest leaning against the wall while Kageyama closes the equipment room door.
“You strained yourself, didn’t you?”
“No,” retorts Hinata, immediately. And then: “Maybe a little.”
“You really are a dumbass.” He glowers at Hinata, who smiles back. “What?”
“It’s nothing.” And then: “Are you going to give me a ride?”
Kageyama looks at him flatly. “Beg me.”
“Kageyama-kun~ Don’t be stingy.”
“Oh gods, don’t whine like that.” He sighs, then squats down. Hinata happily clambers up onto his back and they leave the gym. Takeda-sensei locks up the gym and leaves, heading for the staff room. They go slowly to the team room to change.
They change into their school uniforms, packing away their club clothes, and then Hinata takes his place on Kageyama’s back again and they head out.
“My mom can give you a ride,” the setter says, as they head for his house.
“Kageyama?”
He suddenly feels less confident than he did in the gym, less sure that they fit together like a pair of matched puzzle pieces, like the cogs Sensei insists they are. But he knows if he doesn’t say anything by tomorrow he’ll have missed his chance – they’ll go back to being teammates and nothing more.
“What?”
“I want to stay close to you,” he says quietly, chin resting on Kageyama’s shoulder.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to let you go.”
“You want me to carry you around for the rest of our lives?”
“I want you to go out with me!” Hinata swallows, jaw snapping shut. He just went and said it. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…
Kageyama stops, turning. “What did you say?” His tone is indecipherable.
“I – I – I like you, Kageyama.”
“You like that I’m tall,” says Kageyama, slowly.
“Well yes, but –”
“You like that I’m a genius setter.”
“Well yes, but –”
“You like that I’m the one who lets you fly.”
“Yes, but – I like you! Not because you’re tall, or because you’re my setter, or… I forgot the third one.”
Kageyama snorts. “Dumbass.” He turns and starts walking again.
“I am not! Hey, wait! You didn’t answer me.”
“If you really believe I would offer to carry someone I didn’t like around in the middle of the summer in 35 degree heat, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
Hinata blinks. “But that means – you – you like me?”
They reach the wall outside Kageyama’s house, and he bends to let Hinata down. “For a long time I thought you just wanted to be my partner because I’m tall, and good at setting, and know how to make you shine,” admits Kageyama. Hinata watches him with wide eyes. “Even when you twisted your ankle, that was all you seemed to care about.”
“But –”
“But it’s always been more, for me. You’re the only one who makes me shine. So if that’s enough for you…”
“Kageyama,” says Hinata, stepping up with determination in his stride, “you and I belong together. Not because you’re tall or I’m athletic, but because we complete each other. That’s what I believe. And that’s all that matters.”
“You’re an idiot,” replies Kageyama. “But I knew that already.”
Hinata stares at him, eyes wide. “Then…?”
“Then we’re together now,” he says. And he smiles.
END