Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They’d done it, somehow. Tobio wouldn’t call it a miracle because he knew how hard they had all worked to get here. To stand at the top of the world, gold medals around their necks, Shouyou at his side just like they’d promised each other all those years ago. 

As long as they have each other, they’re invincible. 

It wasn’t a miracle, but it still felt like fate.

--

“HEY HEY HEY!” Bokuto gets on a table, a bottle of champagne in one hand. He beams down at his teammates and coaches and training staff, packed into the hotel’s conference room after the medal ceremony. “LET’S HEAR IT FOR THE CHAMPIONS! TO US!” He shakes the champagne bottle and pops the cork with a bang, foam spraying into the crowd. “JAPAN!”

“JAPAN!” is the answering cry, and the champagne starts to flow.

--

The morning sun slowly pulls Kageyama into consciousness. There’s a slight pounding in his head that indicates he had too much to drink last night, but it’s not painful enough to mean that he had way too much. It certainly doesn’t dampen how relaxed he feels. How happy . He just won an Olympic gold medal and there’s a warm body pressed up against him that he knows, without opening his eyes, is Shouyou.

A small smile tugs at his lips as he thinks about last night. Champagne at the after party had turned into shots, which had turned into him and Hinata making out sloppily in a hallway, which had turned into them having some of the best sex of Tobio’s life. Why had they waited so long to do that?

Shouyou shifts against him and Kageyama opens his eyes, allowing himself a fond smile as he looks at the other boy. Shouyou looks younger in his sleep, smaller when wrapped in Tobio’s arms, a thin line of drool dripping onto the familiar duvet of his bed.

Wait a minute.

Tobio blinks himself into awareness. They are in Shouyou’s room. Not in his hotel room back in Tokyo, or his apartment in Osaka, but his childhood bedroom. Kageyama had spent countless hours in this room during high school, hanging out with Hinata, studying, talking about volleyball. By their third year he was probably spending more time at Hinata’s house than his own. But he hadn’t been back since graduation.

How did they get here? He definitely didn’t have enough to drink last night to forget something like a train ride to Miyagi. Unless they started drinking again after having sex? 

“Hey, Shouyou,” he nudges the boy next to him, staring at the wall above the bed. Something was off about it, niggling at the back of Tobio’s mind. Had Hinata’s mom painted it a different color? “Shouyou, wake up, something’s wrong.”

“Hmm?” The redhead buries deeper into the pillows.

“Oi, Hinata! Wake up!” It comes out harsher than he intended but it does the trick. 

“Wha-?” Shouyou jerks awake, staring at him with wide eyes. “What’s going on…” 

He trails off as he takes stock of their surroundings, and Kageyama feels the floor drop beneath him. 

Shouyou looked younger in his sleep because he is younger. Gone is the body Tobio knows so well, with tanned skin from the Brazilian sun and the strong muscles of a professional athlete. Here is the Hinata of his youth: thin and pale and wiry, his brown eyes too big for his face and lingering baby fat in his cheeks.

“Why do you look like that?” Shouyou is staring at him, mouth agape. 

“Why do I look like what,” Kageyama snaps back automatically, but he’s already moving toward the mirror on Hinata’s wall. 

And yup. If Shouyou looks like his teenage self then so does Tobio. He’s a little shorter, his shoulders are narrower, and his bangs are falling in his face like they did before Miwa had her way with them. What the fuck.

“What the fuck?” Hinata echoes his thoughts, appearing in the mirror beside him. “Why do we look like fucking first years?”

They really do look like first years. Kageyama is even wearing the Godzilla t-shirt that he knows was ruined at the All-Japan Youth training camp that year. (Do not, under any circumstances, leave Hoshiumi alone with a pair of scissors.) 

And holy shit, Kageyama’s been making fun of Hinata’s height for years, but he’d forgotten just how small the boy used to be.

“You’re tiny .”

Mirror-Hinata sticks out his tongue. “ You’re tiny.”

“I’m still taller than you!”

“But you’re shorter than you should be!” They’ve circled back to the crux of the issue. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Um,” Kageyama turns away from the mirror so he doesn’t have to see himself blush. “The mindblowing sex?”

“Mindblowing, huh?” Hinata looks entirely too smug. “You weren’t too bad yourself.”

Kageyama’s mouth twitches into a grin, but it falls as he looks around the room once more. “That was definitely in Tokyo, right? We didn’t drunkenly take the train here or something?”

“Definitely in Tokyo,” Hinata confirms. “And even if we did somehow take the train in the middle of the night that doesn’t explain this .” He flaps his hand between them, trying to encompass the whole wacked “looking-like-teenagers-again” situation in one gesture.

“True,” Kageyama sighs. How is this even possible?

“I know! Let’s look for clues!”

Hinata’s room is exactly how it should be, or at least exactly how Kageyama remembers it. The same clothes in the dresser, the same manga and volleyball magazines on the shelves. Something is still off about the wall above the bed, though, and he’s still staring at it absently when Hinata shoves a flip phone in his face.

“Check out my old phone, can you believe we used to survive without touch screens? I was gonna see if it still works but I think it’s broken because it still says it’s 2012.”

Hold up.

Something finally clicks in the back of Kageyama’s head and the world grinds to a halt.

“Hinata,” his voice is distant to his own ears. “Did you take down those pictures you had of the team?” Each year the Karasuno volleyball club had to take a photo for the school yearbook, and each year Hinata had proudly taped a copy of it to the wall above his bed.

“Huh? Oh, no, I mostly left everything in my room as it was when I left for Brazil. I couldn’t take a lot with me, you know?” Hinata is still playing distractedly with his phone.

“Did your mom take them down maybe?”

“I doubt it, she told me she rarely comes in here,” Hinata glances up from the screen. “Why?”

“Because they aren’t there anymore,” he gestures to the blank wall. “Or maybe, they aren’t there yet.”

“What do you mean ‘yet’?”

The idea forming in Kageyama’s head starts to take an ugly shape. “What if we look like we did our first year of high school because this is our first year of high school? What if you don’t have the team photos because we haven’t taken them yet? What if your phone says it’s 2012 because it is 2012 ?”

All Hinata can do is blink at him. “Are you talking about time travel ?”

Kageyama sits down on the bed and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Ugh, I don’t know. Time travel or body swapping or something. But it’s the only thing I can think of that makes sense.”

“Us time traveling to 2012 and landing in our younger bodies doesn’t make any fucking sense!”

“I know that! But do you have a better explanation?” 

Hinata flops next to him with a huff. “No.”

“Shouyou!” They both jump as a voice yells from the other side of the door. “Mom says that breakfast is almost ready!”

“C-coming!” Hinata shouts back automatically, eyes wide with shock.

“Is that Natsu?” The voice sounded much younger than the teenager Kageyama knows Natsu should be. But if they’re both first years again that would make Natsu what? Nine? Ten?

“It must be.” Hinata’s starting to look panicky. “Oh my god, my mom and Natsu. How are we going to explain this to them they’ll think we’re crazy–”

“What if we don’t?” Kageyama interrupts before Hinata can start babbling in earnest. “We don’t want to freak them out. Or get committed. They probably don’t let you play volleyball in a mental hospital.”

The thought of not getting to play volleyball easily brings Hinata on board. “So we just act like we did in high school until we can figure how to get back?”

“Exactly,” Kageyama nods. “Dumbass.”

“Who are you calling dumbass, dumbass?” And okay, this might not be that hard. “I’ll race you to the bathroom!”

“Hey, get back here! Hinata!”

Chapter Text

Breakfast with the Hinatas isn’t awkward, exactly, but Kageyama has a feeling that they didn’t do a very good job convincing Hinata’s mom that nothing was wrong. Hinata nearly cries at the sight of young Natsu (“She’s so little!” “You’re so little, dumbass, keep it together.”) and Kageyama spends too much of the conversation trying to get answers to questions they should already know. But, they figure out that it’s a Sunday, Kageyama came over yesterday to work on homework and then was invited to stay the night, and that they have practice this afternoon. So it’s a start.

“It’s going to be so weird seeing everyone,” Hinata whispers as Kageyama puts his shoes on in the genkan. He has to stop by his own house before meeting back up with Hinata for practice.

“It’s August, so we’re just training for the Spring Interhigh prelims. It’ll be fine,” Kageyama mutters back with a confidence he doesn’t feel. “We got this.”

Besides, practice was the least of his worries right now. Volleyball was volleyball. He was about to go face his mother .

--

“I’m home,” Kageyama calls from the genkan, stepping out of his shoes. It’s weird being back here; his parents had sold this house not long after he graduated and moved to Tokyo. It’s this—seeing the same cars in the driveway, the same shoes on the rack, the same scrolls on the wall—that fully convinces him that they’ve managed to travel back in time. Even if he and Hinata had taken a drunken train ride last night, his childhood home would have been different.

“Welcome back,” his mother is working on her laptop at the kitchen table, and even though Tobio can’t see him he knows his father is reading the newspaper in the living room, just like he’d done every Sunday of Tobio’s life. “Did you have a good time?”

Tobio is struck by how young his mother looks, sitting in their old kitchen. He knows, objectively, that his parents were young when they had him and even younger when they had Miwa. It’s one of the reasons his grandfather took care of them so much when they were little. 

He wonders if his mother ever regretted marrying his father right after high school, and then he wonders why he was even thinking about that.

“It was fine, Shouyou’s good,” he answers, and then freezes as she looks up at him. His father liked to joke that he had his mother’s eyes; not just the same blue color but the same piercing gaze. He may have learned volleyball from his grandfather, but it was from her that he got the ability to analyze a situation and calculate the best move in microseconds. It made her an excellent lawyer, but right now that look was far too astute for Tobio’s tastes. 

“Are you sure? You sound...different.”

Damn, nothing ever got past her. He’d said five words and his cover was blown. “I’m fine, just tired. I have to go get ready for practice.” 

He hurries upstairs, changes in record time, and then runs out the door before she can ask him any more questions. (He was not fleeing, he just didn’t want to be late).

--

Hinata meets him at the entrance to the school, like he did everyday for three years. It’s too hot to race but they do anyway, gasping and panting up the steps to the clubroom. Warm nostalgia fills Kageyama’s chest as he grins at Hinata, the other boy bent over and trying to catch his breath.

“Wow, king, what’s that on your face? A smile?” 

It’s Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, looking predictably like they stepped off the pages of their high school yearbook. At least Tsukishima’s smirk is as annoying as it always is.

“Tsukki! Tadashi!” Hinata crows. “Wow, it’s so good to see you!”

“You saw us yesterday,” Tsukishima deadpans, but he doesn’t seem surprised. He’s probably just filing it away under “Dumb Things Hinata Says” as he enters the clubroom, Yamaguchi trailing behind him.

“Idiot,” Kageyama slaps the back of Hinata’s head as soon as they’re out of earshot. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Ow, I know, I forgot,” Hinata rubs the back of his head. “I got excited, it’s been ages since we’ve seen them.”

“We got ramen with them and Yachi last month.”

Hinata ignores him. “Besides, you can’t look at me like that,” he brandishes an accusing finger at Kageyama’s face. 

“Like what?” So he’d been grinning at Hinata like an idiot but he was never going to admit that.

“I don’t know, however Tsukki caught you looking. Smiley? You have to be mean like the old Kageyama,” Hinata flattens his hair down and pulls out his best (worst) impression. “ Look at me, I’m Kageyama Tobio, and I won’t set to you because you suck .”

Kageyama scowls and Hinata points in triumph. “Exactly! Like that!”

Chapter Text

Practice wasn’t going too badly in Kageyama’s opinion. It was easy to forget how disconcertingly young everyone looked and get lost in the rhythm of volleyball. And it was always fun to play with Hinata, especially now that the pressure of the Olympics was over.

“Wow, Hinata, that was a great receive!” Nishinoya calls as Hinata flawlessly digs Kageyama’s serve. Damn, he thought he’d put enough spin on it for sure. Suga tosses the ball to Asahi, who slams it over the net near Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi connects but the ball sails off to the left out of bounds, and Hinata’s team cheers at the point.

“You’ve been playing really well too, Kageyama,” Daichi claps him on the back. “It’s good to see you and Hinata all fired up.”

Kageyama just nods, looking at the scoreboard. Their teams had been neck-and-neck, but that last play put Hinata’s team at match point and he was not going to lose.

“Nice serve, Chikara!” 

Ennoshita serves, Daichi receives, Kageyama sets it to Tanaka, who whams the ball over the net (a perfect line shot), where it’s received by Hinata (how the fuck did he get over there that fast). Hinata sends it to Suga while screaming “HERE!” and Suga sets it back to Hinata. He spikes the ball in a precision cross-shot, deftly avoiding Tsukishima and Narita’s block and ending the match.

Damn.

“HOLY SHIT, HINATA, HOW DID YOU DO THAT?” Tanaka yells and oh right, this isn’t just any practice match. This is a practice match with their old high school teammates who think they have nine years less experience than they actually do.

“Uh,” Hinata glances at Kageyama, who makes his best if you say something stupid and give us away I will kill you face. “Luck?”

Tsukishima scoffs at that, clearly annoyed to have been thwarted again. Hinata had been avoiding blocks and scoring points all afternoon, not to mention his killer receives. 

“Hey,” Kageyama pulls Hinata to the side during their water break. “Maybe you should tone it down a little. You weren’t even close to this good in high school, especially our first year.”

Hinata frowns at the idea of not playing the best he can, but it’s a good point. “Fine, but you have to tone it down too. A third of your team’s points were from your serves alone.”

Which, fair enough. There had been a couple of times when Kageyama’s run of aces had only been stopped by Hinata’s digs and he could practically hear Nishinoya grinding his teeth. “Fine.”

--

The thing about instinct is, the better you are at something the harder it is to pretend that you’re not. In the next match, Hinata starts to “flub” his receives, sending the ball spinning out of the court in a way that is clearly purposeful. Kageyama tries to soften his serve and then way overthinks it, nearly nailing Tsukishima in the back of the head. He overcompensates the next time he’s up, and this time Hinata doesn’t have to fake not being able to receive it.

“ Que porra! ” Hinata shouts at him from across the net, throwing his hands in the air.

“Oi, shut up dumbass!” Kageyama knows he’s doing a horrible job adjusting his serves but now is not the time for Hinata to start slipping into Portuguese. Besides, it’s not like Hinata is doing any better at being worse.

By the end of the match his nerves are fried. He’s used to constantly adapting to the other players on the court, but now he has to pay attention to them and himself. He’s double checking his every move and second guessing if what he’s doing is something he feasibly could have done as a first year. It’s exhausting, and if their teammates weren’t staring before they absolutely are now.

“What is up with them?” Daichi mutters to Suga during their next water break, nodding to the two boys arguing in the corner. “They were playing so well in the first match.”

“I have no idea,” Suga responds with a shrug. “But was Hinata speaking Spanish earlier?”

“Your plan was stupid,” Hinata hisses to Kageyama. “Now we look like idiots and we look suspicious. We look like suspicious idiots!”

“I’m not the one who started speaking Portuguese in the middle of the match,” Kageyama retorts.

“That was a nasty serve! I thought we weren’t trying to play like professionals.”

“I’m working on it! This is harder than I thought it would be.”

Hinata snickers. “You should’ve seen Tsukki’s face when you served the ball an inch from his head. He’s totally plotting your murder.”

Kageyama can’t help but snort at that. “What else is new? He’s been planning our double homicide for years.”

“All right boys, break’s over!” Coach Ukai calls them over. “We’re going to mix it up for the final practice match. Hinata, switch with Tanaka. And Kageyama, try not to be so distracted.”

“Yes sir.” Was playing on the same team as Hinata going to be better or worse?

Turns out it was both.

On the one hand, he and Hinata started to sync up the second the match began. But that meant that instinct kicked back in as he tracked the redhead going for a spike. Kageyama sent him the perfect toss, exactly where he knew Hinata liked it, and—

Hinata missed it, the tips of his fingers just grazing the ball as it passed over his head.

“How could you miss that?” Kageyama demands without thinking. “That was perfect!”

“Obviously not!” Hinata snaps back. “It was way too high!”

“It was not! You hit at that height all the time!”

“Well I can’t–” Hinata breaks off, glances at everyone watching them, and rushes at Kageyama, gripping the front of his shirt and pulling his face down to his level. “I used to be able to hit that, but I can’t jump that high in this body,” he growls into Kageyama’s ear. “So you need to fucking adjust .”

“Fine!” Kageyama shoves Hinata away. Shit, he hopes he isn’t blushing. Hinata growling at him like that is definitely going to feature in his fantasies later.

Coach Ukai coughs from the sidelines. “You boys ready to keep playing?”

“Yes!” “Sorry!”

After that, Kageyama manages to bring his serves down to a believable level and he relearns Hinata’s new (old?) spiking height. Hinata is still too good at pretty much every aspect of the game, but at least he isn’t showing off anymore. Their team wins the match easy, but everyone seems too relieved that they aren’t acting like idiots anymore to question it.

“Kageyama!” Noya runs up to him as soon as free practice begins. “I want to practice receiving your serves! I know I can get it!”

There are Olympic-level liberos who can’t stop his serves, but Kageyama doesn’t tell him that. Besides, he reasons, if Noya can get used to Kageyama’s serves they’ll be even better equipped for the Spring Interhigh.

Kageyama wonders if it would be considered cheating if they go to the prelims knowing exactly what to expect because he and Hinata had done it all before. Or is the fact that they’re here already changing things? This sci-fi shit makes his head hurt; hopefully they’ll figure out how to get back to their own time before they have to worry about it.

Chapter Text

A week later they have not figured out how to get back to their own time. Kageyama goes to sleep Sunday night in his childhood bedroom and he’s still there when he wakes up Monday morning. The clock on his phone tells him that it’s still 2012 and that he’s going to be late to class if he doesn’t hurry up. He seriously considers skipping (three years of high school was more than enough) but then he thinks about the look on his mother’s face if the school called and reported him absent, so he drags himself out of bed and into his uniform.

Classes are just as boring as they were the first time around, the hours crawling by at a snail’s pace. Volleyball practice remains the bright spot of the day; it’s fun to play with their old teammates, watching them become the players Kageyama knows they will be. He’s pretty sure that Hinata’s been trying to subtly drop tips on what they should work on to Coach Ukai. 

Every evening after practice they go over to Hinata’s house to “study” and brainstorm ideas on how to get back, but here they were Saturday night with pretty much zilch.

“Ugh, why does algebra exist,” Hinata complains. They’re sprawled out in his room, making an attempt at homework after Hinata argued that they wouldn’t be able to play on the team if they failed school. “I know for a fact that I won’t need any of this after I graduate.”

“This was your idea.” The textbook Kageyama is trying to read about the Edo feudal system is giving him intense deja vu, but he doesn’t actually remember any of it. “At least we don’t have to worry about failing English anymore.”

English wasn’t a must for the V. League but it was definitely preferred if you wanted to play internationally. At this point, he and Hinata were basically fluent.

“Yachi looked pretty surprised when I told her we wouldn’t need tutoring this weekend, but I figured it would be safer than trying to pretend like we didn’t understand anything.”

“I don’t know, a blank stare must come pretty easily to you,” Kageyama quips, earning a flick in the ear.

“Oh yeah, babaca, how many languages do you know?”

Kageyama scowls, swatting back. With Portuguese and Spanish, Shouyou has him beat. “I’ll have you know, my Italian is getting pretty good.”

Hinata stares. “You’re learning Italian?”

Shit . 

“I got recruited to Ali Roma,” Kageyama admits. “I’m leaving for Italy in September. I was going to tell you after the Olympics but–” he waves his hand to indicate this .

“Wow, really?” Hinata rolls over and moves to sit in front of him, giving Kageyama his full attention. Kageyama can feel the pull of his gaze like a magnet, reeling him in. “That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to go to Italy!”

“You aren’t mad?”

“Why would I be mad? It’s a great opportunity! I bet they offered you a fuck ton of money.”

Kageyama shrugs. They had, but that wasn’t why he was going. The chance to get better at volleyball meant more to him than the salary. “I know you have another season on your contract with the Black Jackals. We won’t be able to play each other anymore.” They wouldn’t even be on the same continent anymore. Again.

“That’s okay. I have to keep getting better too so that I can beat you again.”

All he can do is nod. He’s not sure why he expected Hinata’s answer to be any different.

They hadn’t talked about the night after the medal ceremony, except to acknowledge that it happened and that they’d both enjoyed it. Tobio didn’t want to fool himself into thinking that it meant something; that he and Shouyou would start dating or anything like that. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t still thinking about it.

“We should have sex again.” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop it.

“Huh?”

Kageyama picks at an invisible cuticle. “Well, this all happened after we had sex for the first time. So maybe if we have sex again we’ll go back?”

“Huh.” Hinata appears to be seriously considering it. Kageyama’s pulse picks up. “That’s not a terrible idea.”

“You could sound a little more enthusiastic about it,” he grumbles, and he has to look away from Shouyou’s blinding grin.

“Oh, I can be enthusiastic,” Shouyou purrs into his ear. Tobio shivers. He hadn’t meant right now but if Shouyou’s on board then so is he. “Let me show you how enthusiastic I can be.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Tobio pulls him into a kiss because he knows the next words out of Shouyou’s mouth would have been “make me.”

Chapter Text

It’s like something straight out of Tobio’s high school fantasies, having Shouyou spread out beneath him, looking so young and so decidedly not innocent. 

It’s different from last time. Last time they were a little drunk, high off of endorphins from winning. Last time had been a fever-dream, and Tobio had only been grounded by the litany of this is real this is real this is real in the back of his head.

This time it’s almost too real—raw and unfiltered. Tobio can’t stop noticing things: the harsh sound of their breathing, the bead of sweat dripping down his temple, the twitch of Shouyou’s thigh beneath his palm. It’s an overload of sensations, but he doesn’t want to miss a single detail.

“ Harder , Tobio, I can take it.” Shouyou arches his back to take Tobio deeper and fuck he could die from how good it feels.

“I’m trying not to hurt you, dumbass.” 

“You won’t.” Shouyou has that glint in his eyes, the one he gets during matches. “Don’t wimp out on me now.”

Fine, they can play it that way . 

He adjusts his grip on the other boy’s hips and hauls him forward, bending down to suck at his neck where he knows Shouyou is sensitive.

“Shit, Tobio.” There are hands gripping his hair, not to pull him off but to keep him exactly where he is. Like he would ever want to be anywhere else. “Tobio, Tobio, Tobio, Tobio fuck –” Shouyou cuts off in a whine as he changes the angle of his thrusts.

“Shouyou,” Tobio groans. It’s all starting to be too much. “Shouyou, I–” He stops himself from saying something stupid by pulling Shouyou’s earlobe into his mouth. The redhead writhes at the sensation, clenching around Tobio as he comes and pulling Tobio over the edge with him.

Fuck .

--

Having sex again does not send them back to their correct time or bodies, but it does confirm two things for Tobio. One: he wants to keep having sex with Shouyou for the rest of his life, and two: he’s still as in love with him as ever.

Sometime at age 15, Kageyama realized that he had what could be categorized as a crush on Hinata. He’d then promptly taken said feelings for Hinata, put them in a box labeled “examine at a later date”, and shoved that box on a shelf in the back of his mind. It fit nicely next the boxes of how he’d felt in the boys’ locker room at age 12, how he’d felt watching Oikawa serve for the first time in middle school, and how he’d felt the one and only time he’d bitten the bullet and googled “gay porn”. He knew what it all amounted to, of course; he wasn’t that stupid. He just really had not wanted to deal with it then, or maybe ever.

Nine years later, Kageyama could safely say that many of those boxes had been thoroughly examined. Yes, he found guys attractive, yes, he liked having sex with them, and yes, his middle school crush on Oikawa Tooru was deeply embarrassing. But the “feelings for Hinata” box remained untouched on the shelf. 

Well, not entirely untouched. Occasionally he would take it down, peek inside to see if those feelings were still there, feel the sharp pain that meant yes he still liked Hinata Shouyou and maybe it was even getting worse , and then hastily shut the lid and put the box back. 

He’d had volleyball to focus on, games to win, mountains to climb. And then Shouyou had said to him, tipsy with champagne, “I wish you could always set to me” and “you’re cute when you blush” and then Tobio was kissing him like he’d wanted to for years.

So now here he was, with a box filled to the brim with feelings, and absolutely no idea what to do with it. One wrong move and they’d all come sloshing out.

--

Sunday morning, Kageyama wakes to the warm August sun streaming through his childhood bedroom window. His plan hadn’t worked—it was still 2012 and he was still in his teenage body—but he almost doesn’t care. It had been well worth the shot.

They’d had about five seconds to bask in the afterglow before Hinata’s mom came home with dinner and Kageyama had made an escape. He hopes that Hinata’s mom was way less perceptive than his, because even though she didn’t say anything, dinner had still felt incredibly awkward. Tobio prays that she isn’t gearing up for one of her talks .

There’s a buzzing from his bedside table as his phone starts to ring.

“Kageyama,” Shouyou says as soon as he answers. “Are you still here?”

“Still here,” he sighs. “Sorry. I guess it didn’t work.”

“It was a good idea. I thought it would work for sure.”

“Yeah?” To be honest, Tobio hadn’t really believed that sex was the key to all this. He’d thrown out the suggestion more out of desperation to get to touch Shouyou again. “Well, maybe third time’s the charm?”

Hinata laughs, bright and tinny through the phone. “Are you flirting with me, Bakageyama?”

He was certainly trying. “Is it working?”

“My mom is taking Natsu to a playdate this morning,” is the response, and what does that have to do with anythi—oh.

His room is suddenly sweltering. “W-we have practice later.” Fuck, that stutter was embarassing. He wasn’t supposed to be this awkward anymore. How did Shouyou even do this to him?

“Better hurry up then.” Hinata hangs up on him.

I can’t believe I’m in love with that annoying brat, Kageyama thinks as he scrambles to get dressed.

Chapter Text

Sunday night, Suga sends a text to everyone on the team except for two select members.

Suga

Team meeting in the club room before practice tomorrow morning. Get there extra early.

DO NOT tell Hinata or Kageyama.

He gets nine swift agreements. Nobody even has to ask what the meeting is about.

“Is it just me, or did Hinata and Kageyama become like ten times better at volleyball overnight?” Tanaka asks the club room at the crack of dawn Monday morning, as soon as everyone but the two first years in question have gathered.

“They are a lot more consistent lately,” Daichi muses. “Especially Hinata. Do you think it’s because all the stuff we were trying in Tokyo is finally clicking?”

“It’s more than that,” Suga shakes his head. “That kind of accuracy and consistency takes years to develop. It doesn’t make any sense for them to suddenly be this good.”

“They’re definitely hiding something!” Noya pipes up. “I’ve been practicing trying to stop Kageyama’s new serve for a week and it’s crazy! It’s like, consistently inconsistent. I keep asking him how he does it but he won’t tell me.”

“There’s something else, too.” They all turn to Yamaguchi. “Yachi told me yesterday that Hinata told her they didn’t need English tutoring anymore. Apparently they both got a hundred percent on last week’s quiz.”

“Really??” Hinata and Kageyama becoming experts at volleyball was one thing; Hinata and Kageyama suddenly doing well in school was something else.

“They’re also acting weird with each other,” comments Tsukishima.

Asahi frowns. “They’re still fighting all the time, though.”

“Yes, but it’s a different type of fighting,” Tsukishima’s mouth presses into a thin line. “They’re like an old married couple. It’s even more annoying than their usual yapping.”

“Something is totally up!” Tanaka hops up. “We should confront them about it!”

“Yeah!” Noya readily agrees, and the other second years nod. Even Asahi, who hates confrontation, looks convinced, and Tsukishima is smirking like he knows this is going to be amusing no matter how it ends.

“We can talk to them after practice,” Daichi settles it. “Now since we’re all here, we might as well go set up.”

They file out of the club room and down to the gym, where they’re met with the distinct sound of a volleyball slamming into hardwood.

Bam!

One look amongst themselves and they’re rushing to the gym windows, ten sets of eyes peering into the room. On one side of the net, water bottles are arranged around the edges of the court, just inside the line. On the other side, Hinata throws the ball at Kageyama and then sprints forward. The setter sends it across the court back to Hinata, who meets it perfectly at the apex of his jump.

Thwap! Bam! 

One of the water bottles clatters across the floor. A direct hit.

“Damn,” Tanaka lets out a low whistle.

“How did they even get in there?” Daichi whispers to Suga. “They don’t have a key.”

Suga can only shrug, enthralled by the display in front of them.

Thwap! Bam! 

Another water bottle goes flying.

They watch as the two first years decimate the lines of bottles. After a few runs, Suga notices that Hinata keeps changing his attack, approaching from different angles and at different speeds, but Kageyama is still able to get it back to Hinata’s palm with precision placement and timing. And Hinata doesn’t miss a single mark.

Thwap! Bam!

The last bottle is cleared with a wicked cross-shot, not unlike the one Hinata pulled last week. So it wasn’t a fluke , Suga thinks. Tsukishima is openly scowling, while Tanaka and Asahi are gaping in awe.

“ Do caralho! ” Hinata slaps Kageyama’s hands with a double high-five. “That’s was fucking awesome, Kageyama! Let’s do it again! I want to try with my left hand this time.”

“All right,” Kageyama agrees readily, ducking under the net to reset the bottles while Hinata runs around collecting balls. Suga can feel the rest of the team shift and murmur. His left hand? Can Hinata really spike with his left hand?

The pair start the drill again, and yes, Hinata really can spike with his left hand. He’s not as accurate—most of the bottles remain standing—but Suga thinks an opposing team would be so caught off guard that it wouldn’t matter. Noya, who’s clambered up Asahi’s back to get a better view, practically starts vibrating when he sees the wild spin on the left handed shots. They would be brutal to try to receive if you weren’t expecting them.

“You were sloppy,” Kageyama says, but he goes for Hinata’s high-five anyway.

“Keep tossing. I know I can hit them.”

“We have to clean up before the others get here, dumbass.”

“Oh, shit,” Hinata glances at the clock. “Fine, let me–”

He cuts off as the taller boy grabs his shoulder. For a second Suga thinks that Kageyama is going to yell at him, but he’s proven very wrong when instead he pulls Hinata in for a kiss.

Suga can’t help the gasp that escapes his mouth. The kiss is quick but intimate, clearly not the first time they’ve done this, although Hinata looks confused when he pulls away.

“What was that for?”

Kageyama shrugs. “I like watching you spike my sets.”

This, apparently, is Tanaka’s last straw.

Bang! The second year shoves open the gym doors and the two first years leap apart, caught like deer in the headlights.

“Alright!” Tanaka gestures wildly between the two of them. “You guys are going to tell us what the hell is going on!”

“Um,” Hinata pales as he takes in the rest of the team filing in. “Okay. Um.” He grabs Kageyama’s hand. “Tobio and I are dating!”

Tobio hopes the ground opens up and swallows him whole.

“No, no, we don’t mean that,” Noya dismisses this revelation with a wave. “We mean that .” He points an accusing finger at the volleyballs and water bottles strewn across the court.

“Well, uh,” Hinata rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. He still hasn’t let go of Kageyama. “Sorry, I know we aren’t supposed to be practicing this early but–”

“How are you guys so good?” Suga demands. He says it quietly, but it stops Hinata in his tracks as if he’d shouted. Enough beating around the bush. “Those moves, we’ve never seen you do anything like that before. It’s like you’re professionals.”

Hinata looks at Kageyama and they appear to have a whole silent argument consisting of Kageyama glaring and Hinata wiggling his eyebrows. Suga isn’t sure who wins, but in the end Hinata turns back to them and sighs. “You’re going to think we’re crazy.”

“We already think you’re crazy,” Daichi says. “Out with it.”

Chapter Text

“Okay,” Hinata takes a deep breath. “Kageyama and I aren’t ourselves. Well, we are ourselves but we’re our older selves. From the future! But last week we woke up and bam! Here we are.”

“Huh?” They’re met with a wall of blank stares.

“We’re from 2021,” Kageyama tries to clarify. “Last week we woke up here, in our younger bodies. We play like professionals because in the future we are professionals.”

“Wow, really?” Noya pipes up. “Even Hinata?”

“Hey, what do you mean ‘ even me’ ?” Hinata looks ready to throw hands with the second year, when they’re interrupted by the arrival of Ukai and Takeda.

“You guys are here early,” Ukai comments, pausing as he takes in the bizarre tension in the room. “Everything okay?”

The club shares a guilty glance, and Ukai narrows his eyes. They’d better not be imploding, not after all the work we did in Tokyo .

It’s Suga that breaks the silence. “You should tell them.”

“Tell us what?” Takeda has on his sensei face, the one that reminds them that technically he has the highest authority in the room.

They all look at Kageyama and Hinata. Kageyama takes a deep breath and attempts to explain the time-travel-slash-possible-body-swapping all over again.

“We can prove it!” Hinata adds at the end in the face of their coach and teacher’s skepticism.

“Yeah, you guys, show them!” Tanaka and Noya run to help reset the bottles, eager for another chance to watch them play.

“Do you think this is some kind of prank?” Ukai mutters to Takeda as Suga goes to toss a ball to Kageyama.

“I don’t know. To be honest, that kind of thing seems too complex for Hinata and Kageyama to pull off–” wha-bam! 

Ukai feels a chill down his spine as he watches the first water bottle skitter across the gym. It’s like the first time he watched Hinata and Kageyama do their quick attack. But this, this is way different. It’s not that first freak quick, where Kageyama wielded Hinata’s speed like a weapon, and it’s not the one they’ve been working on the past few weeks either. 

Hinata’s eager inexperience has been replaced with confident technique. Ukai can see it in the line of his attack, the way he plants his feet before he jumps, the way he arches his back and controls his swing as he goes for the spike. Kageyama is better too, although it’s subtler. He’s always been confident, bordering on arrogant, but now he seems more...settled. Comfortable with letting Hinata take center stage, with making Hinata shine . 

And the way that they mesh together. Ukai swears that Kageyama isn’t even looking at Hinata when he sets, despite the fact that Hinata attacks from a different spot each time. Hinata has always trusted Kageyama to get him the ball, but now Kageyama trusts Hinata to always hit it.

It’s the kind of trust that takes years to build. A month ago they were barely speaking to each other. A week ago they’d only gotten their new quick to work once. Now, they don’t miss a single bottle.

“Woah,” Takeda breathes. There are stars in his eyes, or possibly tears.

Bam! Hinata hits the last bottle straight down the line with his left hand .

Woah, indeed. Maybe they are telling the truth .

“Ha!” Hinata holds up his left hand to Kageyama proudly. “Who’s sloppy now?”

Kageyama high fives it. “Still you. It was one shot.” Hinata sticks out his tongue, but Kageyama ignores it to turn to Takeda and Ukai. “Do you believe us now?”

Ukai purses his lips. “It was an impressive display,” he admits. “You seem to be in a whole different league compared to last week. But this time travel thing is a lot to swallow.”

Hinata frowns in thought, and then perks up. “Oh, I know what else is different! I can speak Portuguese!”

“You can?” Takeda asks.

“ Sim! Aprendi quando fui para o Brasil depois de terminar o ensino médio ,” Hinata rattles off. “And we’re both really good at English now. Just ask Yachi.”

“ That I can test you on ,” Takeda says in English.

“ Yeah, I suppose it’s hard to prove I speak Portuguese if no one else knows it ,” Hinata replies confidently. He nudges Kageyama. “ Go on, show them .”

Kageyama sighs. “ My English is okay. I do press all the time. Just don’t ask me any questions that aren’t about volleyball. ”

Takeda raises an eyebrow. Their pronunciation is good, better than he expected it to be based on their grades. He looks at Ukai, who looks at the team.

“Do you guys believe them?”

The general consensus is yes, with varying degrees of excitement, confusion, and resignation.

“Alright,” Ukai rubs his forehead, placing himself in the resigned category. “Well, this changes some things.”

--

“We leave for the Spring High preliminaries in four days,” Ukai says. He’s at the whiteboard, mostly for the authority it lends him, with the team on the floor in front of him. “That’s not a lot of time. But I think, given the circumstances,” he looks at the two apparently-not-first years. “We have to start practicing without Hinata and Kageyama.”

“What?!” The outcry is just as loud as Ukai expected.

“If what you say is true, then I can’t in good conscience let you play in the tournament. It’d be like taking one of the guys from the neighborhood association and dressing him up as a high schooler. It’s practically cheating.”

“But we want to play,” Hinata whines. “We have to play. We have to win.”

“Ukai’s right,” Kageyama looks at the coach, and Ukai represses a shudder. There’s a lot more maturity in those blue eyes than he’s used to seeing. “Even in these bodies, we have years  more experience than any other player in the tournament. To be honest, comparing us to the neighborhood association is a gross understatement.” He turns to Hinata. “Think about it. You’re way better now than any high school player, even Bokuto and Sakusa. Don’t you think the team should win on their own merit?”

The whole team blinks. Did Kageyama just give Hinata a compliment?

“But what about Ushijima?” Hinata argues. “I promised that I would beat him this year! I can’t go back on that.”

“Have a little faith,” Daichi chides. “We may not be at your level but we’ve still got plenty of skills.”

Kageyama nods. “We can still beat Shiratorizawa,” his grin is terrifying. “Don’t forget, we know all the tricks up their sleeves.”

They spend the rest of the morning grilling Hinata and Kageyama about their upcoming preliminary matches. Ukai decides that it’s not any worse than watching taped games or having someone go to a match and then report on it. The only difference is that Hinata and Kageyama know exactly which of Karasuno’s strategies work best against them. 

That afternoon they set to work, practicing their plays with Suga as the starting setter. Ukai can tell that Hinata is itching to play, but he settles for cheering from the sidelines and shouting out tips. Kageyama gives pointers for their jump serves, but he’s hesitant to offer Suga advice.

“You can critique me, you know,” Suga says to him during break. “I know we have different styles but technically you’re my senior now. I’d appreciate your feedback.”

Kageyama huffs a little laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’ll always think of you as my senpai. But you could try holding your wrists like this when you set behind you?” he demonstrates. “It might give you more control on the backspin.”

Suga tests it a few times and seems pleased. “You’re really all grown up, aren’t you Kageyama-kun?”

“It doesn’t always feel that way,” he looks at Hinata, who’s demonstrating his cross-shot technique to Tanaka, and he can’t help but smile. “But being back here has made me realize that we aren’t kids anymore.”

Suga follows his gaze. “When did you start dating?”

“Uh,” Kageyama blushes. “This morning? Maybe? It’s complicated.”

“Doesn’t seem that complicated to me,” Suga hums. “I saw the way you kissed him this morning.”

Kageyama blushes even deeper. “We haven’t really talked about it. I don’t want to make a mess of things.”

“You won’t,” Suga says confidently. “I actually think love is pretty simple. It’s like trust. And you trust each other, don’t you?” 

He walks away with a casual “thanks for the advice, Kageyama-kun,” leaving Kageyama a tangled mess. Love, in Kageyama’s opinion, is the most confusing thing in the world.

--

“Hey, Kageyama,” Daichi calls him over as they’re packing up. “How did you even get into the gym this morning? I didn’t think you had a key.”

“We don’t,” he admits sheepishly. “One of the second story windows doesn’t latch properly, and Hinata is small enough to fit through it. We discovered it our second year.”

Diachi looks up at the windows circling the balcony. “How did he even get up there?”

“He climbed,” Kageyama deadpans. “The guy’s a fucking ninja.”

Chapter Text

“What if we can’t ever go back?” Hinata asks as they walk down the hill after practice. “What if we have to relive our whole lives over again? What if we make it all the way to the Olympics and then we keep ending up back here, like that weird American movie? The one with the marmot.”

“It’s a gopher, dumbass.”

“It is not,” Hinata argues. Although, when he’d watched the movie with Pedro it’d been in Portuguese with bootleg Japanese subtitles, so he hadn’t followed along very well. “Anyway, what would you do?”

“I’d kill myself,” Kageyama deadpans. “If I have to sit through Modern Literature for a third time I’ll fling myself in front of the shinkansen.”

“I’m serious, Tobio.” And he must be, to use his first name like that. “Would you change anything?”

There’s a difference, Tobio thinks, between the things he wanted to change and the things he actually would. Or should. “Did you mean it?” He asks instead of answering. “When you said we were dating.”

Shouyou peers up at him. “Do you want me to mean it?”

There’s a box teetering on the edge of a shelf in the back of Tobio’s mind. Nine years ago he would have shoved it back, brushed Hinata off, and kept pushing forward. But now…

He does trust Hinata. He trusts him with his sets, with his friendship. Maybe he should trust him with the truth.

Maybe it’s as simple as letting the box fall, letting its contents spill where they may, and trusting Hinata to help him pick up the pieces.

“I like you, Shouyou. A lot.” The admission, years in the making, falls off his tongue. “I want you to mean it.”

“Good! Because I want to mean it too!” Shouyou’s grin is bright enough to power the whole city of Tokyo. “I already told you, I want you to set to me for the rest of our lives.”

“Dumbass.” Any sting of the insult is lost because Kageyama can’t stop smiling. “Dating isn’t the same as volleyball. I won’t always be there to set for you.”

“I know. But I’ll always want it to be you, even if it’s not,” Shouyou leans in for a kiss. “Isn’t that how love works?”

--

“I almost asked you out in our first year, but I decided not to,” Tobio confesses later, when they’re tangled together in Hinata’s bed. The sound of cicadas drifts through the open window, the night breeze cooling their flushed skin, and Tobio doesn’t think he’s ever been this relaxed. “So maybe, if I could change one thing, it’d be that.”

“Really?” Shouyou traces a pattern on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you?”

Tobio winces. “We had that fight, where you wanted to try new things and I didn’t want you to.”

Shouyou nods. He remembers. 

“Afterwards I thought, maybe I only liked you because I liked that you needed me. I called you selfish for wanting to go off and get better on your own, but I was being selfish by holding you back. So I didn’t ask you out because I didn’t want to tie you to me like that. You deserved better.”

“I don’t think it works like that, Tobio,” Shouyou sighs. 

“Well, I was fifteen and an idiot. There was a lot of repression going on.”

Shouyou’s laugh tickles against his neck. “I didn’t realize I liked you until I went to Brazil,” he admits. “At first, I thought I just missed playing volleyball with you. But I actually thought about you more when I wasn’t playing. I’d watch movies with Pedro and think about whether or not you’d find them boring; I’d go to the store and think about what kind of milk you’d like. And it took me a while to figure out that I didn’t miss any of my other friends the same way. So if it makes you feel any better, we were both idiots.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s already been established.” He pulls Shouyou closer and they drift into sleep.

Chapter Text

The morning sun slowly pulls Kageyama into consciousness. He yawns and rubs his eyes, blinking against the light. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he must’ve passed out in Hinata’s bed because there was the redhead beside him. They’d been having a competition to see who could stay awake the longest, and he was pretty sure he’d won.

“Hey, Hinata,” he shoves the boy next to him. “That’s one more win for me–”

His voice dies in his throat. That’s not Hinata. Or maybe it is, because it looks like him, except that Hinata isn’t gorgeous . Hinata doesn’t have a sharp jaw dusted with stubble, or toned arms, or broad shoulders, or muscled thighs, or– oh my god, Hinata’s naked .

Kageyama quickly looks away and registers their surroundings. They aren’t in Hinata’s room. It looks like some sort of hotel room with two beds, the other unmade but empty. 

“Kageyama?” The new, gorgeous, maybe-Hinata is staring at him. “Why are you naked?”

He looks down at himself and yes, he is also naked. And so is maybe-Hinata. They are in a hotel room, and they are in a hotel bed together, and they are naked in the hotel bed together .

Kageyama scrambles away, falling off the side and landing in a heap next to the night stand. Clothes are strewn across the floor next to him: a pair of red track pants, two matching track jackets, a pair of underwear, one shoe, and a phone. Despite the racing of his heart, his brain is still cooly collecting details.

Well, that explains where their clothes are. At least some of them.

“Kageyama?” Maybe-Hinata peers down at him. “Are you okay? Where are we? I didn’t know you were so jacked.”

Was he ? He looks down at himself again. Maybe-Hinata is right; he’s definitely gained some muscle mass.

“Are we,” the wheels start turning in the back of Kageyama’s head. “Older?”

“Huh.” Hinata looks down at himself, running a hand across his abs and down his thighs. He touches his face, only to pull away at the rasp of stubble against his palm. He’s never had to shave before in his life. “Weird.”

“That’s all you have to say about it?” Kageyama demands. “Weird?!”

“Well, it is weird! What do you want me to say?” Maybe-older-Hinata glares down at him. “What’s that on your neck?”

His hand flies to where Hinata points, wincing at the tender ache. A bruise? His eyes are drawn to a dark spot right above Hinata’s collarbone and his stomach drops. Could it be a hickey? He’s only seen one once; one of his classmates had come in with a purple mark on his neck and some of the other guys had made fun of him. But it’d looked similar. 

“Hinata did we–” his mouth is so, so dry. “Did we have sex?”

Hinata looks like he’s been struck with a baseball bat. “What?!” He screeches. “No! No way. I think I’d remember something like that. How could you think that?”

“Well, we’re naked. And we were in bed together. And you have a hickey,” he points to Hinata’s collarbone. He actually has a couple, Kageyama notices. There’s another underneath his right ear and one on his left (very nice, very tan) pec.

Did he do that? Kageyama doesn’t remember it, but the idea of someone else marking up Hinata like that is too ugly to contemplate.

His whirling thoughts are interrupted by a pounding at the door. “Shouyou! You’d better be decent in there!” A voice with a distinct Kansai accent calls from the other side. “I’m givin’ you ten seconds before I come in! One!”

Hinata gives him a panicked look from the bed.

“Two!”

Kageyama pulls the blanket from the bed to cover himself, staunchly looking away as Hinata scrambles into a pair of track pants he finds on the floor.

“Three!”

Hinata rushes to the door, pulling it open to reveal a man with bleach blond hair and a red track suit that matches the ones on their floor leaning against the doorframe. 

“That was fast,” he smirks, eyes flicking over Hinata’s half-naked chest as he ambles into the room. The man’s smirk gets sharper when he sees Kageyama on the floor between the two beds. “You have a good night?”

“Uh,” Kageyama’s whole brain is buffering. “Yeah. Um. You?”

Now the smirk becomes a full-blown grin. “Oh yeah. Who knew Omi-omi could be such a freak in the sheets?” The blond chuckles like it's a joke, but Kageyama doesn’t get it so he just stares. “Anyway,” he glances back at Hinata. “I’m gonna take a shower, that cool with you?”

“Sure, yeah, of course,” Hinata nods, and keeps nodding until the man is safely on the other side of the bathroom door.

“Who the hell is that?” Kageyama hisses as soon as the sound of the shower starts.

“How should I know?” Hinata hisses back, crouching down next to him. 

“Well, apparently he’s your roommate.”

“I’ve never seen him before in my life!” 

Hinata gets in his face angrily, and Kageyama is struck by how close he is. Any response he had dries up in his throat as he notices that Hinata has freckles now, as if suddenly becoming hot wasn’t enough. Damn.

Kageyama is saved by a sharp buzz from the phone at his feet. He picks it up hastily, dimly registering that the sleek design is more advanced than anything he’s ever seen, and looks at the notification on the screen.

“It’s a text from Ushijima.”

Hinata perks up at the name. “Ushijima Wakatoshi? From Shiratorizawa? What’s it say?”

Ushijima 9:26

Are you alive?

Was he alive? Maybe Kageyama was in heaven. Or, he muses, as Hinata starts to rummage through the sheets and clothes on the floor, revealing the broad, muscled planes of his back, maybe he was in hell.

“Ah ha!” Hinata brandishes another similar looking phone in triumph. The lock screen is a picture of him and Kageyama, still looking older than they should. Kageyama is in a white jersey with the word “Schweiden” across the front and Hinata is in black with “MSBY” across his chest. They both look sweaty and exhilarated, like they had just played a match, but while Hinata is grinning at the camera, Kageyama is looking at him. Something in lock-screen-Kageyama's face makes Hinata’s chest feel tight, but as he brings the phone up to his face to get a closer look it unlocks to reveal the home screen. Freaky.

There are dozens of unread messages, mostly congratulations, and Hinata sighs in relief as he recognizes some of the names. At least his mom and Daichi-san and Suga-san still exist in this bizarro world they’ve woken up in. Unfortunately, looking at his most recent texts brings his anxiety back in full force.

Bokuto-senpai 00:39

yo shoyou uwhere r you we r doing shots coume do shobts with meee

Omi-san 01:07

Please use protection.

Oikawa Tooru <3 01:12

GET IT CHIBI-CHAN

This cannot be good. Maybe he and Kageyama really did have sex? And do shots? Or did shots and then have sex? But why can’t he remember anything?

“Why did Oikawa-san text me?” Kageyama asks, his bewildered tone snapping Hinata out of his spiral.

“He texted me too! What did he say to you?”

“It’s just a bunch of emojis.” Kageyama shows him the screen. There are indeed a bunch of emojis: a sideways looking pair of eyes, an eggplant, three water drops, and a tongue. 

Hinata has no idea what that’s supposed to mean, and he has a feeling he doesn’t want to.

“Whatever,” Kageyama says when Hinata tells him as much. “That’s not our biggest issue. Look at today’s date.”

He holds up his phone again, this time displaying the date.

09:37

August 5, 2021

“What?? We’re in the future?”

“That’s what it says, doesn’t it?” Kageyama snaps. Everything about this situation is fraying his nerves. 

“But how?”

“I don’t know!” He inhales sharply through his nose and lets it out slow, like he does before every serve. It grounds him, just a little. What do they know? “So we’re in the future, possibly in our future bodies. We’re in your hotel room, and your roommate is some guy with a horrible dye job.” We maybe had sex . “And we’re on the national team.”

Hinata gapes at him. “The national team?? How do you know that?”

“Track jackets,” he nods the pile of clothes on the floor. “Your roommate has the same one, and it said ‘JAPAN’ on the back.” He’s seen enough national games on television to recognize them.

Hinata hurries to pick one up, turning it around to see their country name in bold, white against the red fabric. “We did it, Kageyama,” he whispers. He looks like he might cry. “We really do make it.”

“Yeah,” he replies softly. Hinata’s awe is infectious. “I guess we do.”

The sound of the shower cuts off, and Kageyama takes that as his cue to get the hell out of there. He pulls on the scattered pieces of his tracksuit, finding a hotel key in one of the pockets, before standing awkwardly at the door.

“I’ll come find you later,” he offers, unable to look Hinata in the eye. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Of course we will,” Hinata says, maybe too brightly. “See you soon.”

Chapter Text

Luckily, Kageyama’s room number is written on the back of the hotel key card, or else he would have resorted to trying every single door until it worked. His room is only a few down from Hinata’s, and entering reveals Ushijima Wakatoshi, from Shiratorizawa Academy, sitting on one of the beds and frowning at his phone.

“So you are alive,” Ushijima says, looking up. He too looks older, clearly no longer a high school student, but his stoic face is the same. “I’m glad.”

He must also be on the national team, Kageyama reasons, along with that blond guy. Or they’re all dead and in some kind of weird afterlife together. At least if Ushijima is here then they probably aren’t in hell, because Kageyama can’t imagine Miyagi’s number one ace being anything less than perfect.

“I’m, uh, going to take a shower,” Kageyama retreats to the bathroom, feeling Ushijima’s eyes on his back.

Safely behind the locked bathroom door, he takes a moment to study himself in the mirror. He’s a little taller, he thinks. His muscles are more defined, his jaw sharper, his hair in a different cut; he looks a little like his father did in the old pictures he’s seen. It’s...freaky.

Plus, there’s the hickey, glaringly obvious against the pale skin of his neck. He pictures Hinata putting it there; Hinata’s breath in his ear, Hinata’s lips trailing along his jaw, Hinata’s teeth grazing his neck…

He shakes off the fantasy as want pools in his gut. That definitely falls under the category of “things he is trying really hard not to think about,” along with Hinata’s smile, and the glint in his eye when he nails their quick, and the way Hinata’s arms felt around him when he tried to tackle him during their fight. If they’re going to get to Nationals, Kageyama can’t afford any distractions. Too bad everything about Hinata has become increasingly distracting lately.

Of course, it’s all for naught if they can’t figure out how to get back in time for the Spring High preliminaries.

Turning away from his unfamiliar reflection, he reaches for his phone again. The lock screen is sunset on a beach he doesn’t recognize, but the passcode is the same one he’s always used.

The headline when he googles “Kageyama Tobio” nearly makes him drop the phone.

Japan takes the Gold in Olympic Men’s Volleyball 

For the first time in nearly 50 years, Japan took first place in the final round of the Olympic Men’s Volleyball tournament yesterday. Their lineup, consisting of a mix of veteran Olympians and newer additions, proved to be a strong team from their very first match.

As we have reported previously, many of the players have worked together before, which likely bolsters the team’s cohesion and unity. Starting setter Kageyama Tobio not only played on the V. League’s Schweiden Alders with outside hitter Hoshiumi Kourai and opposite hitter Ushijima Wakatoshi, but also attended Karasuno high school in Miyagi with opposite hitter Hinata Shouyou. Hinata himself played with outside hitters Bokuto Koutarou and Sakusa Kiyoomi, and setter and pinch server Miya Atsumu, on the MSBY Black Jackals...

A wave of anger crashes over him, so sudden he clutches the edge of the counter. They aren’t just on the national team; they’re on the Olympic team. And they won gold.  

It’s not that he doesn’t like that they won. He probably would’ve been more pissed if he’d found out they lost. But it still feels wrong, somehow, like he’d been handed a gold medal on a platter without putting in any work for it. All of his dreams have come true and he wasn’t even there for it. They might as well have happened to someone else.

Kageyama’s hands are shaking so badly he has to put down his phone. He wonders, distantly, if it’s irrational to be jealous of yourself.

He twists on the shower in a haze and steps under the spray, pressing his hands against the cool tile to stop them shaking. Breathe in, breathe out. He has to remain calm; every setter knows that getting worked up leads to making mistakes. Breathe in, breathe out. 

If this is his future, then he can’t fuck it up for himself. 

--

“Hurry up, Shouyou! We’re going to be late for breakfast!” Miya Atsumu calls from the other side of the bathroom door. Hinata was only able to put a name to his roommate’s face after 10 minutes of frantic googling. Miya Atusumu: backup setter and pinch server on the Olympic Men’s Volleyball team, rooming with Hinata Shouyou, opposite hitter on the Olympic Men’s Volleyball team . The same team that just won a gold medal in their home country.

Hinata’s heart feels like it could vibrate right out of his chest. He and Kageyama turn out to be so cool . They get to play in the Olympics. They get to win .

He’s a little stunned, to be honest, seeing his name on the starting roster. For all his talk of beating Kageyama, he knows that he’s not the strongest player, not by a long shot. But here is proof that his dedication to volleyball pays off; that all the hours he’s put in mean something. One day he’s going to play on the Olympic stage and he can’t wait .

The excitement is a welcome distraction from the series of texts he just received from Oikawa-san that weigh on his chest. It’s the elephant in the room deciding to slap him in the face.

Oikawa Tooru <3 10:02

So how was our dear Tobio-chan ;) ;)

Give me the dirty details

I want to know if he’s as good in bed as he is at setting

Which would be a low bar because he’s terrible at setting and I hate him 

Even though i'm happy for you

Spill the tea sis

This text spam was followed by a bunch of tea cup and frog emojis that Hinata is frankly baffled by. The growing knowledge that he and Kageyama probably really did have sex, that Oikawa Tooru from Seijoh knows about it, and that apparently he and Oikawa are close enough friends that Oikawa wants and expects to hear the details, churn unpleasently in his gut. It’s even worse than his pre-game anxiety.

He can honestly say that he’s never thought about Kageyama like that. Kageyama is annoying, and mean, and stupidly talented at volleyball, and Hinata’s sworn rival. He’s also, probably, his best friend. Ever since getting over their fight they’ve been hanging out a lot more outside of practice. Last night was the first sleepover he’d had since middle school, and it was a lot of fun; falling asleep next to Kageyama’s warmth had been nice. But did he want to have sex with Kageyama? Did he even want to kiss him? Or date him?

“Shouyou, come on, I’m starving!” Miya yells again, shaking him from his thoughts.

He pushes it all aside and hurries to redress, hair still wet from his shower. His roommate presents a more immediate problem.

Should he tell Miya that he’s pretty sure he just time traveled nine years into the future? That he has no idea who he is or what is going on? Best case scenario: Miya helps him and Kageyama figure out how to get back to their own time. Worst case scenario: Miya thinks he’s had a psychotic break and he gets kicked off the national team. 

He shudders at the thought.

Chapter Text

When Kageyama comes out of the bathroom Ushijima is right where he left him, sitting on the bed, phone in hand. He might as well be a statue as Kageyama gets dressed, but he stands in one fluid motion as soon as he pulls his sneakers back on.

“Breakfast.” Ushijima doesn’t frame it as a question, but he clearly expects Kageyama to come with him.

“Right.” He hurries to follow the taller man out of the room. He can do breakfast. How bad could breakfast be?

The dining room is fairly empty when they arrive, but Ushijima leads them to a table in the back corner where another man is already sitting. He has dark wavy hair framing his pale face and a white face mask pulled down around his chin as he nurses a cup of coffee.

“Sakusa,” Ushijima greets him, sitting down on the other side of the table but leaving a seat between them. Kageyama jolts at the name. That must be Sakusa Kiyoomi from Itachiyama, one of the top three high school aces in Japan. 

“Ushijima,” Sakusa replies. He turns towards Kageyama as he sits next to Ushijima, letting the taller man be a barrier between him and Sakusa’s piercing gaze. “Kageyama,” his tone is like ice down Kageyama’s back. “If you and Hinata defile my door like that again I will kill you.”

Heat rushes to Kageyama’s face. He really does not want to think about what he and Hinata could have done against Sakusa’s door last night. “S-sorry.”

“Hey, Omi-omi,” Hinata’s blond roommate plops down next to the wing spiker and Sakusa’s mouth pinches in distaste. So the “Omi-omi” he mentioned this morning is Sakusa . Every piece added to the puzzle his brain is putting together makes the picture more confusing.

Hinata takes the seat on Blondie’s other side, across from Kageyama. He raises his eyebrows and glances exaggeratedly at his roommate, who’s complaining loudly about something while attempting to drape himself over Sakusa’s stiff form. Kageyama makes an I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me face, a subtly different version of his usual scowl. 

Hinata sticks his tongue out and pulls out his phone; a second later the one in Kageyama’s pocket buzzes.

Hinata 10:21

that’s Miya Atusumu!

he’s a setter too!!

Kageyama looks over at Miya, who’s contented himself with sprawling an arm over the back of Sakusa’s chair while chatting at Ushijima. Sakusa doesn’t look happy about it, but Kageyama notices that he never actually pushed Miya away either. 

His phone buzzes again.

Hinata 10:21

and that’s Sakusa Kiyoomi!!

https://tokyo2020.org/sports/volleyball/mens-teams/japan

The link Hinata sent him contains the names, stats, and head shots of the current Olympic team, and Kageyama grudgingly admits that Hinata was smart to find it. This will definitely make things easier.

Hinata 10:22

Did you see that we won gold yesterday!!!!

Yes

Isn’t it awesome??? We’re so cool!!

“You two wanna share with class?” Kageyama jumps at the interruption; Miya is looking over at them, eyebrow raised.

“No.” Kageyama answers before Hinata can open his big mouth.

“Why not?” The other setter pouts. “Are ya talking about me?”

Well, technically. “Yes.”

Miya makes such an offended face that Kageyama isn’t sure if it’s mocking or not, and Sakusa’s lips twitch upward. “Shou-kun,” the blond twists towards Hinata. “How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends! Bros before hoes!” He tries to snatch Hinata’s phone and Hinata flinches away quickly, eyes wide with panic. “Gimme that I want to see what you’re gossiping about!”

“N-no!” Hinata leans as far away from Miya as he can without falling out of his chair, one hand clutching his phone behind him and the other pushing Miya away as the other man clambers to reach it. They’re like two five-year-olds fighting over a toy. 

Kageyama, Ushijima, and Sakusa watch them in panicky horror, placid amusement, and long-suffering annoyance, respectively. 

“Careful, you wouldn’t want Tobio-chan to be jealous,” a new, familiar, voice says behind him. Kageyama looks up at the two newcomers with the growing realization that it’ll be a miracle if he gets through this meal without dying of shock.

It is, unmistakably, Oikawa and Iwaizumi from Aoba Johsai. Or at least their older versions. Neither of them were listed on the Olympic team website, so what are they doing here?

“Morning, everyone,” Oikawa says breezily, sitting down next to Kageyama. What the hell? He scoots a little closer to Ushijima. Are he and Oikawa friends now?

Iwaizumi pulls a chair over to sit at the head of the table next to Oikawa, nodding in greeting. Hinata widens his eyes at Kageyama, who can only shrug. Nobody else seems to be surprised to see them, so he figures they should just roll with it. At least the pair’s arrival distracted Miya from trying to get Hinata’s phone.

“So, Chibi-chan,” Oikawa rests his chin on his hands, smirking over at Hinata, and Kageyama immediately regrets ever thinking that Oikawa showing up could be a good thing. “How was it? You didn’t answer my texts.”

Hinata flushes brighter than his hair. “Um. Uh.” He’s gaping like a fish, and if a sinkhole could just open up beneath the table right now that would be great.

“Hey, hey!” Their saviors arrive in the form of two more volleyball players joining their table, both with wildly different but equally crazy hair styles. Kageyama instantly recognizes the tall one as Bokuto Koutarou from Fukurodani, still with his signature spiked hair, who drops into the seat between Hinata and Iwaizumi. 

The shorter man with bright white hair wedges himself between Kageyama and Ushijima. Kageyama recognizes him from the Olympic website: Hoshiumi Kourai, looking rather worse for wear and very hungover. 

“Budge over,” Hoshiumi nudges Ushijima, who slides willingly into the seat opposite Sakusa. The white-haired spiker takes the newly vacated chair as Sakusa grimaces with distaste and pulls his facemask up over his nose, clearly unhappy that the table is now packed.

“That was a great party last night!” Bokuto nearly shouts, shoveling rice into his mouth. 

“Shut up,” Hoshiumi groans, resting his head on the table. “You’re the worst.”

“That’s what you get for going shot-for-shot with a guy twice your size, Kourai-kun,” Oikawa quips.

Hoshiumi buries his head in one arm and reaches across Kageyama to give Oikawa the middle finger with the other. “You weren’t even supposed to be there,” comes the muffled response.

“Yeah, Oikawa,” Miya leans forward to look at the other setter around Hinata. “What were you even doing at the party anyway? I thought it was Japan-only.”

“I was Iwa-chan’s plus one.”

“We could bring plus ones?” Bokuto looks betrayed. “I should’ve invited Akaashi.”

“We couldn’t,” Iwaizumi sends Oikawa a sideways glare. “Technically he crashed.”

“Rude, Iwa-chan. It’s not like you stopped me.”

It’s a strange mix of crazy and comfortable. To Kageyama, the collection of players at the table couldn’t be more random, but they all banter and bicker like they’ve known each other for years. Which, Kageyama supposes, they probably have. 

The table devolves into talk about their plans for the rest of the summer, and Kageyama gets a sudden crash course in his teammates’ lives as they chat about their families and the upcoming volleyball season. It seems like they all play on separate teams, either in Japan’s V. League or internationally, and Kageyama tries to hold on to as much information as possible in case it becomes relevant later. Especially things he should probably know already, like the facts that Miya has a brother, and that Ushijima’s father lives in America, and that Oikawa actually plays for Argentina now.

“What about you, Kageyama?” Bokuto turns to him. “Any plans after the closing ceremony?”

“Oh, uh,” he tries to think. “I might go back to Miyagi to see family,” he offers, hoping that’s vague enough to suffice.

Iwaizumi looks at him curiously. “I thought your parents moved to Tokyo.”

Did they? Crap. He looks desperately over to Hinata, who jumps in. “He means my family! He’s coming with me to see my family.”

If Hinata’s family doesn’t live in Miyagi anymore either they’re screwed, but the table accepts this without comment. 

“Speaking of Miyagi,” Oikawa changes the subject. “Did you watch the prefecture qualifying rounds?”

It turns out that everyone has very strong opinions when it comes to the current high school volleyball scene. Ushijima and Sakusa get into a heated debate about Monthly Volleyball ’s ace power rankings; Oikawa gushes about Aoba Johsai’s second year setter to an unimpressed Miya Atusumu, who insists that Inarizaki’s first year setter shows more potential; Bokuto and Hinata argue over whether Fukurodani or Karasuno will win the Interhigh Tournament this year, despite Hinata knowing literally nothing about Karasuno’s current team. Hoshiumi, who Kageyama could’ve sworn was dead asleep, manages to interject with a disparaging comment about Karasuno’s starting setter, and Kageyama has to fight the urge to defend a boy he’s never even heard of.

The debates rage until a hotel worker kicks them out of the dining room so they can get set up for lunch. As they all stream into the lobby, Hinata snags Kageyama’s elbow and pulls him aside.

“Let’s go back to my room. I have an idea,” Hinata whispers, and Kageyama nods readily.

“Chibi-chan!” Oikawa calls. “You coming?”

“No!” Hinata yelps as Kageyama herds him towards the elevator. “Uh, you go ahead without us!”

“Have fun! I expect a full report!” Kageyama can see Oikawa wink even from across the lobby, and he practically shoves Hinata into the elevator. The shorter their interactions with Oikawa, the better.

They ride up to their floor in awkward silence. Kageyama is well aware of what Oikawa thinks they’re sneaking off to do, and he is resolutely not acknowledging it. At least not until he’s recovered from the most stressful meal of his life.

Chapter Text

Hinata grabs his laptop and sits on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. Kageyama sits next to him, carefully leaving space between them, but Hinata only scoots over to balance the computer across both their thighs. Kageyama’s whole side burns at the contact.

They spend the rest of the morning scouring the internet for anything relevant. Initial searches on time travel or matching cases of amnesia turn up nothing concrete, so they end up scrolling through Hinata’s twitter account, piecing together the last nine years. Kageyama has an account too, mainly for promotional stuff it seems, but he’s mentioned fairly often by other people, especially Hoshiumi.

Hinata finds a video on the Black Jackal’s account featuring “Miya Atusumu’s best sets this season”, and something low and mean twists in Kageyama’s gut as he watches Hinata do quick attacks with someone else. He has to admit that this Miya guy is good, though, and that the Hinata in the video is leaps and bounds ahead of his current high school level. (Literally. The man can jump .)

He retaliates by playing a Youtube compilation of every point he scored in the Rio Olympics, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Hinata (“Wow, Kageyama, you played in the Olympics twice, that’s amazing! And your serves are awesome!”) and then he gets mad when he sees that they didn’t even make it to the quarterfinals. 

They end up watching a Black Jackals vs Adlers game from three years ago. Kageyama recognizes most of their breakfast table on the court and he can see why they’re all on the Olympic team. Ushijima is solidly powerful and dependable; Hoshiumi is a wild card with an impressive vertical reach and a wide array of attacks under his belt. On the other side of the net, Bokuto and Sakusa are wickedly good spikers, Miya is a decent (fine, extremely excellent ) setter, and Hinata is a force of nature.

Kageyama can’t look away as the bright head of orange hair on the screen makes flawless digs, shuts down the Adlers’ spikes, flies into the air to make any kind of attack imaginable. He even sets once, when Miya is forced to receive a serve, and he manages to get the ball to Bokuto perfectly and the Jackals score the point.

“Is that really me?” Hinata whispers in awe.

Of course it is , Kageyama thinks. You promised you’d meet me at the top and here you are .

The Adlers put up a good fight but the Jackals take the match. After the teams shake hands there’s a blur of orange across the court and the camera pans just in time to catch Hinata flinging himself into Kageyama’s arms. 

Kageyama watches himself stiffen in surprise and then wrap his arms around Hinata, the disappointment at the loss on his face melting away. He almost doesn’t recognize himself with such a soft and pleased expression. 

The commentators are saying something about a reunion between high school teammates, but Kageyama barely hears them. On-screen Hinata drops back down to the ground, ending the hug, and on-screen Kageyama lets him go reluctantly, hands lingering on Hinata’s shoulders.

It cuts to the pair of commentators in a studio, and Hinata pauses the video.

“Wow,” Hinata breathes. He thinks that the picture on his lock screen must have been taken after that match. “You looked really happy to see me.”

Kageyama doesn’t reply because he can’t deny it. It feels like his whole world view is tipping on its axis, with the knowledge that Hinata would beat him in an official match and then they would embrace like that . Like they’re, maybe, more than friends.

“Hey, Kageyama,” Hinata isn’t sure how to broach the subject, so he dives in headfirst. “Are we dating?”

Kageyama flinches so much the laptop slides off their legs. “What?”

“I mean, like are our older selves dating?” Hinata can tell that he’s blushing. “Because it kind of seems that way?”

“No!” Well. “Maybe.” Probably . “Yes?”

“What are you, a magic 8 ball?” Hinata’s joke falls flat. “Do you think the others know? Should we start acting like we’re dating so they don’t get suspicious?”

“Maybe they don’t know, and they’ll get suspicious if we do.” Kageyama doesn’t know if he can handle the emotional dissonance of having to date Hinata for pretend while wanting to date Hinata for real while also acting like he doesn’t want to date Hinata for real because Hinata isn’t allowed to know about his crush on him. It’s too complicated to even think about.

“I’m pretty sure they already think we had sex,” Hinata points out, and Kageyama should not start sweating at Hinata just saying the word ‘sex.’

“Fine.” Kageyama can manage this. He’ll have to.

Chapter Text

Kageyama is going to die. Hinata is holding his hand and he is going to die.

They’re out at some bar with the rest of the Japan team because apparently they have nothing better to do until the closing ceremony. After their sleuthing earlier Kageyama can name most of the players, but that’s where his confidence in any interactions with them stops. Not only that, but Oikawa has joined them again, except this time he dragged half the Argentinian team along with him. The air is filled with raucous shouting in various combinations of Japanese, Spanish, and English, all of which is going straight over his head.

Of course, even if he could understand what was being said he wouldn’t be able to hear it over his pounding pulse. Because, as previously stated, Hinata is holding his hand where it rests on the tabletop. All he can focus on is the sensation of Hinata’s fingers slotted between his, and the rough calluses on his fingertips against the back of his knuckles, and how their palms are damp where they’re pressed together, but not in a gross way.

He takes another gulp of his beer. It’s still as disgusting as it was the first few sips, but it’s better than trying to hold a conversation. The cool glass in his hand is a grounding contrast to the searing heat in the other.

“Chibi-chan! Tobio-chan!” Oikawa slides into the seat across from them, and Kageyama kind of hates their future selves for becoming friends with him. “Glad you could grace us with your presence. And here I thought you’d still be going at it like rabbits.”

Hinata makes an embarrassed squeak and Kageyama really does not want to be part of this conversation right now. He sways a little as he stands, blinking stars from his eyes as all the blood rushes from his head. Should he be feeling this lightheaded after just one beer? 

“Bathroom,” he mutters, extracting himself from Hinata’s grip and escaping Oikawa’s suggestive smirk. He flexes his fingers as he walks away, already missing the feeling of Hinata’s hand. Man, he is so screwed.

He takes his time in the bathroom, splashing water on his face and trying to calm his racing heart. Everything is a bit fuzzy, but whether that’s from the alcohol or from holding Hinata’s hand or because he still has no idea what’s going on is hard to say. The weirdly older version of his face looking back at him in the mirror isn’t helping. Maybe he’s finally dying of information overload. 

The door swings open behind him, and he glances up only to meet a pair of obsidian eyes. Shit, it’s Sakusa, looking down at him over the edge of his mask. 

“Kageyama,” Sakusa says. 

He turns and nods in response, shifting awkwardly as Sakusa stands in front of him in silence. Some kind of battle wages in his eyes for a moment before he says reluctantly, “Hinata is always so…positive.”

“Huh?” It’s true, Kageyama supposes. Even when they’re losing, Hinata is just excited to be on the court. The saddest Kageyama has ever seen him was when they lost to Seijoh in the Interhigh Preliminaries, and he didn’t let that drag him down for long.

“It’s annoying,” Sakusa continues, sounding vaguely pained. “Insufferable, really. But him being positive isn’t the same as him being happy .”

None of this is clarifying what Sakusa wants with him. “Sorry, Sakusa-san, I’m not really following.”

Sakusa huffs behind the mask. “I’m saying that I’ve known him long enough to tell the difference between when he’s his normal, exuberant, relentlessly positive self and when he’s actually happy. And these past few months with the Olympic team he’s been the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

“Okay?” Of course Hinata is happy on the Olympic team. It’s his dream, isn’t it?

Sakusa sighs and mutters, “I can tell you’re thinking something idiotic.” He fixes Kageyama with a flat stare, the same one that sent shivers down his spine during breakfast. “ You make him happy. More than volleyball or playing in the Olympics or winning gold. You.”

“Me?” Kageyama is floundering; is Sakusa really saying what he thinks he is?

“ You.” Sakusa leverages all four centimeters of height he has over Kageyama to lean in and drive his point home. “So don’t fuck it up.”

--

“You and Tobio-chan have been a lot more touchy lately,” Oikawa leans in conspiringly as soon as Kageyama leaves. “I thought you were trying to keep things on the down-low.”

Were they? “Uh–”

“Of course, the way you were making out at the party last night wasn’t exactly ‘down-low’ but we were all pretty drunk,” Oikawa chatters on. “But the hand holding, that’s new, right?”

Oh, crap, was it? Hinata had been so sure that holding Kageyama’s hand was the right move after they had decided they must be dating. That’s what people who were dating did, right? If holding Kageyama’s hand made him feel all bubbly inside, he couldn’t imagine how great it’d be to hold the hand of someone you were actually dating.

“We, um,” he tries to think of a response. “We figured since everyone seemed to already know this morning…”

“Why hide it anymore?” Oikawa finishes for him. He smiles, and it’s weird seeing genuine joy in place of a mocking sneer or knowing smirk on the Grand King’s face. “I’m proud of you. You’d better thank me in your wedding vows.”

“What?” Wedding vows??

“Yup, since I’m the one who helped you get together and all.”

Now, Hinata may only have the barest grasp of the situation but– “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Come on, you remember Rio.” Oh no, Oikawa’s knowing smirk is back. “Remember how you told me how much you missed Kageyama and his amazing tosses and his stupid smile and his dumb hot face. And I told you that you have terrible taste in men, but that you should tap that ass anyway.” He lifts both palms up in a what else can I say gesture. “And thanks to my excellent advice you did, so you’re welcome.”

Hinata has to take a second to process all of that information. Rio? Oikawa must be referring to the widely retweeted selfie of them on a beach in Brazil. It was his most popular post on Twitter. And he missed Kageyama?  

From all their online digging, he knows that he and Kageyama spend several years after high school playing on separate teams. But he’d been so distracted by how amazing they both become at volleyball that he hadn’t bothered to think about what that meant .

He thinks about it, actually really thinks about it. He thinks about the game they watched this afternoon, where he and Kageyama were on opposite sides of the net, and he tries to imagine hitting someone’s tosses that weren’t Kageyama’s. It’s not a matter of if he could do it, there’s video evidence of him hitting Miya’s tosses with ease. He can play without Kageyama, he can win without Kageyama. 

But...

He pictures himself spiking the ball over the net, scoring the winning point, and then looking over and not seeing Kageyama’s terrible, scary, totally endearing grin. Maybe he understands why his future self, the one onscreen, ran into Kageyama’s arms like that. Not hugging Kageyama after a win seems wrong, even if Kageyama was on the opposing team.

Oh.

“For sure, Tobio-chan makes Ushiwaka his best man,” Oikawa is still talking, oblivious or just uncaring of Hinata’s preoccupation. “Which means that it’ll be up to me to plan both bachelor parties because Ushiwaka wouldn’t know fun if it slapped him in the face–”

“I have to go!” 

Hinata bolts out of his seat, leaving Oikawa gaping indignantly behind him. He hurries down the hallway with the bathrooms, brushing blindly past Sakusa, and nearly collides with Kageyama right as he opens the door.

“Hinata,” Kageyama blinks down at him. “What–”

“Can I talk to you?” Hinata interrupts him, the question spilling out of his mouth. “In private?”

“Okay.” Furrows appear in Kageyama’s brow. “Back at the hotel?”

Hinata nods quickly, grabbing Kageyama’s hand and pulling him towards the exit. Kageyama casts a desperate look to where Sakusa and Miya stand watching them before he’s dragged out into the humid Tokyo night.

Chapter Text

“Kageyama.” Hinata fidgets in the middle of his hotel room. This room has witnessed a lot of revelations in the past few days. “After our fight a few weeks ago, when we were training separately... did you miss me?”

“What?” Of course I missed you, dumbass , Kageyama thinks, but what he says is, “Why would I miss you? We still saw each other everyday.”

Hinata chews on his lip. “I missed you,” he admits. “Even though I kind of hated you for being a jerk.” 

“Oh.” He had been a jerk, but the knowledge that Hinata hated him still stung. Even though he deserved it. 

“I missed hitting your tosses,” Hinata continues. “And I missed hanging out with you. So I’m glad we’re friends again. We are friends, right?”

“Yeah,” Kageyama doesn’t even have to think about it. “Of course we are.”

“Good.” Hinata offers him a more nervous version of his usual grin before lapsing into silence.

Kageyama lets it stretch for a minute before demanding, “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?”

Hinata squeaks, his fidgeting getting worse. “Oh, no. Actually I wanted to ask– I mean I’ve been thinking– why do you think we’re dating?”

“What?” If he hadn't sworn to himself that he would never back down from Hinata, Kageyama would have fled the room. “We went over this, we decided–”

“No, no, I mean why ? Like why would we date?”

“People usually date because they like each other, dumbass.” It’s out of Kageyama’s mouth before he realizes it’s the absolute worst thing to say. Because the only possible response to that is:

“You like me?” 

Hinata gapes at him like a fish out of water and shit Kageyama has really backed himself into a corner this time. 

What should he do? Lie? Hinata would probably see right through it. Tell the truth? Twelve hours ago he would have rather died, because he was so sure that Hinata didn’t feel the same. But then they woke up in the future.

A future where Hinata doesn’t need him. A future where Hinata can hit the tosses of any setter: Miya, Oikawa, dozens of other beach volleyball players. A future where they stand together on the world stage as equals; a future where Hinata faces him across the net and wins . 

A future where, according to Sakusa, Kageyama makes Hinata happy independent of volleyball. Where no one seems surprised when they hold hands in public. Where his feelings for Hinata might not be a lost cause; that maybe, possibly, hopefully, Hinata likes him back.

“Yes.” The admission drags itself out of Kageyama’s chest. 

“You– what?” Hinata is still gaping like a fish that is not only out of water but has also been slapped a few times for good measure. Just to make sure it’s really stunned.

“I like you, idiot.” It’s a little easier to say the second time.

“But… how do you know?”

“I just do!” Kageyama snaps. “I know because– when I toss to you it’s like– like–” he stutters to a halt. He doesn’t know how to explain it. He’s always been terrible with words, but Hinata always seems to understand what he’s saying anyway.

So fuck it. It’s been an absolute emotional roller coaster of a day, and maybe this whole situation is a sign that Kageyama’s gone insane anyway, so he grabs Hinata’s shoulders and kisses him.

He tries to pour all of the ways he knows he likes Hinata into the kiss. It’s the bam of a point scored from his toss. It’s the taste of a fresh curry bun after a hard practice. It’s the burn in his legs when they race to the gym and the way his whole body lights up when their hands brush. It’s how he’s always acutely aware of Hinata, a flashing beacon on his radar, and how he couldn’t look away even if he tried. 

“Oh,” Hinata breathes when they break apart. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense. That makes total sense because that was like gwah! and when you toss to me it’s also like gwah! and I want you to do it again so I guess I do like you!”

“Really?” Someone’s set off fireworks in Kageyama’s chest. 

Hinata nods eagerly. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You could’ve just opened with that!” He tries to sound indignant, but the smile on his face probably ruins the effect.

“I was working up to it! I was still trying to figure it out.”

“That’s so dumb.”

“You’re so dumb,” Hinata retorts, pushing up on his toes to get in Kageyama’s face. “Kiss me again,” he demands. Toss to me again. One more time . 

So Kageyama does.

Chapter Text

Morning light slowly pulls Hinata into consciousness. It must be early because his alarm hasn’t gone off yet, so he indulges a little, snuggling up against Kageyama’s chest.

Which is weird because Kageyama definitely went back to his own house after practice, but now they’re lying together fully clothed on top of the hotel duvet.

Wait a minute. His eyes snap open. The hotel duvet.

“Oh my god, Tobio!” He shakes his partner roughly while looking around his hotel room in awe. He’s pretty sure no one’s ever been as grateful to see boring wallpaper and ugly carpet as he is at this moment. “Tobio! We did it! We’re back!”

“Wha–?” Kageyama blinks awake. “Shouyou, what–” He sits upright in shock. “You don’t look young anymore!” He looks down. “I don’t look young anymore!” He scrambles for his phone and checks the date.

08:52

August 6, 2021

“We’re back! And it’s only been a day.”

“We’re back!” Hinata crows again, bouncing off the bed and pumping his fists in the air. “We did it! We’re time travel geniuses!”

“We didn’t do shit, how the fuck did we even get back?” Kageyama retorts, but he looks giddy with relief. Well, as giddy as Kageyama can look, anyway.  

“Don’t know, don’t care, don’t question it.” All Hinata cares about is that they don’t have to go through high school again. He runs his hands through the curtains to make sure they’re real before Kageyama’s words catch up with him. “Wait, you said it’s been a day, right?”

“Yeah, the medal ceremony was on the 4th but now it’s the 6th.”

“So, what were we doing all of yesterday?”

Kageyama’s face pales. “What if while we were in our younger bodies, our younger selves were here ?”

“Oh god.” Given all the other weird shit that’s happened, it’s entirely possible. “We weren’t supposed to be doing anything important yesterday, were we?”

“I think it was supposed to be a rest day,” Kageyama frowns. “I hope.”

“Well,” Hinata always tries to look on the bright side. “It was only one day. We can’t have gotten into too much trouble.”

Kageyama sincerely hopes he’s right. He glances at the time on his phone. “I should get going. I have to meet Ushijima before breakfast.”

Hinata grins cheekily at that. “It’s cute how you guys have your routines.” 

“That’s what happens when you always get paired in the same room for four years,” Kageyama rolls his eyes. “Also, if I don’t show up in the morning he assumes I’m dead in a ditch somewhere. I only ended up at the wrong hotel that one time!”

Kageyama shouldn’t be allowed to be this cute when he pouts. Hinata can’t resist leaning in and giving him a light kiss. 

“Better hurry up, then. You wouldn’t want your mother hen to worry.”

“Shut up,” Kageyama playfully pushes his face away. “You aren’t funny.”

He shoves back, herding the setter towards the door. “I’m adorable and you love me.” 

Kageyama stills beneath his hands. Oh shit . They hadn’t actually gotten to the L-word part of their relationship yet. Hinata was pretty sure it was true, that Kageyama loved him as much as he loved Kageyama. They were dating now, afterall. They’d confessed to each other! But they’d been in a crazy situation, stuck in the past and in their high school bodies and all, so maybe things were different now–

“I do,” Kageyama breaks him out of his panic. He smiles softly down at Hinata. “Love you, I mean. Obviously, idiot.”

‘I’m not an idiot, you’re an idiot,” Hinata retorts childishly, even as his heart soars with relief. “I love you too, but I’m also starving, so go get Ushiwaka so we can go eat.”

Kageyama huffs a small laugh, turning to open the door. A very surprised Atsumu is on the other side, fist raised like he was about to knock.

“Atsumu-san!” Hinata cries. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Uh,” the blond setter blinks at the force of Hinata’s enthusiasm. “It’s been like nine hours but good to see you too, Shou-kun.”

“Dumbass,” Kageyama slaps Hinata on the back of the head. “Stop being weird.” He slips around Atsumu, giving a nod and a “Miya” in greeting, before heading down the hall to his own room.

“Want to get breakfast?” Hinata asks, closing the door behind him and starting towards the elevator without waiting for an answer. Atsumu spares one last look at Kageyama’s retreating back before hurrying to follow.

“Sorry for sexiling you.” Hinata looks up at him sheepishly as they wait for the elevator. “Although,” his face morphs into a smirk. “Since I know you were with Omi-san I’m not actually that sorry.”

Atsumu matches the smirk with one of his own. “You should apologize to Motoya. He’s the one who gets shafted by our roommate shuffling. He did show up this morning with no shirt and a signed Team USA swimsuit, though, so I doubt he minds.”

The elevator arrives with a ding and they head down to the lobby.

“I’m glad you and Kageyama have finally admitted you’re dating,” Atsumu continues, fixing his hair in the reflective elevator wall. “I’ve been wanting to give him the shovel talk for ages. Omi already beat me to it, that bastard, but it can’t hurt for him to hear it a second time.”

Shovel talk? Hinata frowns in confusion, but then he’s too distracted by the enticing smells of the breakfast buffet to give it any more thought. Despite their mediocrity, Hinata’s always liked hotel breakfasts. He associates them with away games and training camps and tournaments, with the thrill of knowing that he actually gets paid to fly around the world and play volleyball. 

“Chibi-chan!” Oikawa waves him over to where he’s sitting, while Atsumu joins Bokuto at a nearby table. “Listen, I hope I didn’t scare you with all the wedding talk last night,” he says as soon as Hinata sits down. “Even though it’s the logical next step and I plan the best bachelor parties. Just ask Oscar, he’s Argentina’s libero.”

Hinata blanches, choking on the forkful of eggs he’d just shoved into his mouth. Wedding talk?? “It’s kind of early to be thinking about marriage , isn’t it? Kageyama and I have barely started dating.”

“Ha! Barely ? That’s hilarious, Chibi-chan. You’ve been dating for years.”

What? “No we haven’t.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Come on Shouyou, I know you’ve been dating since you got back from Brazil. I’m the one who told you to go for it!”

Sure, Hinata had drunkenly confessed his newfound feelings for Kageyama to Oikawa in a random bar in Rio. But it still took him five years to actually do something about it. “We literally just got together. We only hooked up for the first time after the medal ceremony.”

Oikawa’s face crumples in confusion. “Wait, what? You haven’t been seeing him this whole time?” 

Hinata shakes his head, eyes wide. “No. Not even close.”

“But I text you about him all the time!” Oikawa protests.

“I thought you were teasing me! I never told you we were dating!”

“You never said you weren’t! I thought you were just being stingy with the details!”

“That’s because there weren’t any details to give!”

“This can’t be right,” Oikawa insists. “You’ve been dating Tobio-chan for years. Everyone knows.” He spins around in his chair and calls over to the table next to them. “Hey, Bo-chan, how long have Hinata and Kageyama been dating?”

Bokuto looks up from his oatmeal. “Um,” his face screws up in concentration. “Three years? You got together around when you signed with the Black Jackals, right?”

That’s close enough to Oikawa’s estimate that he’ll take it as validation. “See!” He points triumphantly. “There’s no use pretending. Give up the act, Chibi-chan.”

“It’s not an act!” Hinata insists.

“Wait, Bokuto’s right?” Atsumu leans around the spiker to stare at Oikawa and Hinata. “I thought you didn’t start dating until after you kicked Kageyama’s ass in your first official match.”

“The exact date isn’t important,” Oikawa waves his hand. “My point is that it’s been years .”

“What’s been years?” It’s Komori, with Sakusa in tow. They take a seat at Bokuto and Atsumu’s table.

“Since Hinata and Kageyama started dating,” Oikawa clarifies. Good, more backup.

Komori laughs. “Oh it’s been years, alright. Since what, your first year of high school?”

“What!” Hinata squawks.

Komori winks. “I was clued in when Kageyama wouldn’t stop texting me about you after the Youth Training Camp.”

“Kageyama used to text about me?” Hinata is getting more confused by the second. Is this some new alternate reality? Did their time in the past alter the present? He hadn’t even known Kageyama and Komori were that close. “Kageyama used to text ?”

“Well, we mostly texted about volleyball,” Komori concedes. “But that meant he always talked about you. Hinata this, Hinata that. The guy was smitten, I could tell.” 

“And then you wouldn’t shut up about it to me,” Sakusa complains to Komori. “I was not interested.”

“Yes you were, Kiyo,” Komori says. “You’re a gossipmonger and you know it.”

Atsumu laughs. “He’s got you there, Omi.” 

Sakusa ignores them. “Whatever, they only started dating a few months ago anyway. When they both joined the Olympic team.”

“No way, it’s been way longer than that,” Atsumu dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “So who’s right, Shouyou?”

Hinata is at his wits’ end. “No one!” He says in exasperation.

“Fine,” Oikawa glances at the dining room doors. “We’ll just have to ask someone else. Tobio-chan!” He shouts across the room to where Kageyama and Ushijima have just entered. “Come over here!”

Kageyama does not want to deal with Oikawa’s antics this early in the morning, but he goes over anyway. “What do you want?” He sighs, sitting next to Hinata.

“When did you and Chibi-chan start dating?”

Kageyama tries some mental arithmetic to try to figure out how dates work when they spent more time in the past than went by in the future and promptly gives up. “A few days ago?”

Oikawa slaps the table. “Not you too! I’m telling you, it’s okay if you admit it. We literally all know.”

“Know what?” Kageyama’s brow wrinkles.

“They think that we’ve been dating for years,” Hinata explains, making a please save me expression.

Years ? “How many years?”

“Well we ,” Atsumu gestures to Oikawa, Bokuto, and himself, “think it was post-Brazil, but he ,” he points to Komori, “thinks it was back in high school and this one,” he points to Sakusa, “thinks it was only a few months ago. So which is it?”

“Neither,” Ushijima sits down with his food and the extra bowl he grabbed for Kageyama. “They got together after the Rio Olympics.”

He says it with such confidence that Kageyama almost believes him himself, until he remembers that there’s no way that can be correct.

“No?” Kageyama wishes this what is happening sensation wasn’t so familiar. “Why would you think that?”

Ushijima levels him an unimpressed look. “Because you snuck out of the Olympic village one night and when we got back to Japan you weren’t moping anymore.” 

Kageyama splutters. “I was never moping !” 

“You snuck out of the Olympic village?” Hinata is floored. “And you didn’t come see me?”

Ushijima looks between Hinata’s shocked face and Kageyama’s mortified one, and a tiny chink appears in his certainty. “You didn’t sneak out to see him?”

Kageyama buries his face in his hands. “I did,” he groans. “I went to the beach to watch you play.” He peeks out between his fingers at Hinata. “You were good.”

“And you didn’t say ‘hi’?” Hinata is shifting quickly from confusion to indignation. “You never told me you watched me play!”

“You weren’t supposed to know.” 

Kageyama refuses to admit that he’d spent the first few months after Hinata left for Brazil plagued with the fear that Hinata was wasting his time; that playing beach volleyball wasn’t the best way for him to improve enough to join Kageyama in the V. League. 

But, hidden in the back of the crowd, Kageyama had witnessed Hinata shine on the sand. He saw first hand how much stronger he was, how much more confident after only a few months on the beach. And he knew that Hinata was where he belonged, but also that he would be back, and that they would play together again one day. So when the Rio Olympics were over he poured himself into training with the Adlers more than ever, because he couldn’t let Hinata come back better than him.

Oikawa frowns. “So you’re really telling us that you only got together a few days ago?” 

“ Yes!”  

“But why didn’t you say anything yesterday? We had a whole conversation about how you were coming out with your relationship!” Oikawa turns to Kageyama. “And you said that you were going with Hinata to visit his family instead of your own over the break! Who does that except for people who are dating? And whenever you’re together you’re just so– so–”

“Happy,” supplies Sakusa. 

“Exactly!” Oikawa snaps his fingers at Sakusa. “What he said.”

Hinata and Kageyama share a glance. What the fuck were their younger selves up to yesterday? Did their friends really think they’ve been dating for years? Were they just that oblivious?

“Well,” Kageyama says slowly. “I’ve been in love with Hinata since high school.”

“And I’ve been in love with him since Brazil. Probably before that. But…” Hinata trails off as their friends gape at them.

“So you’ve been in love with each other for a combined like ten years and have just been what, mutually pining?” Atsumu looks like they’ve just announced they’re quitting volleyball to take up tap dancing. “We all just thought you were doing a really bad job of keeping your relationship a secret.”

“You two are even more idiotic than I thought,” Sakusa mutters. “And that’s saying something.”

Hinata splutters. “If you guys all thought that, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I did.” Oikawa massages his temples. “Repeatedly. We’ve been over this.”

“We were trying to be respectful,” Bokuto adds, uncharacteristically sage. “Having a public relationship can be rough.”

A ray of fondness cuts through Hinata’s exasperation. Trust their friends to be supportive when it counts. Well, since they hadn’t actually been dating the support didn’t count, but it was nice to know that if they had been dating their friends would have supported them. 

He reaches out and grabs Kageyama’s hand. “Well, we are dating now, and it’s not a secret. At least not from you guys.”

Kageyama threads their fingers together. “Also, forget about anything we might have done or said yesterday. We, uh, weren’t ourselves.”

Hinata nods vigorously. “Yes! There may have been groundhogs involved. Don’t worry about it!” He adds, only to be met with even more confusion and concern on their friends’ faces than before. Time to switch to an infinitely more interesting topic. “Do you want to play a pick-up game later?”

All thoughts of dating and love and the possibility of rodent-induced time travel are instantly forgotten with a resounding chorus of “Yes!” 

Thank God for volleyball.