Kageyama had no idea what had waked him.

He blinked a few times, looking around the room with his drowsy eyes. The very first light of the day came in through the curtain, so it was dawning. He yawned and lay down again. It wasn't even five o'clock, he could sleep some more. He let his eye-lids fall...

The fist landed a few millimetres from his nose, making him wake up at once.

"Hinata, you dumbass...!" He checked himself in the last moment and didn't yell the remark that, at this point, came to him automatically; he remembered where he was.

The rest of the team was sleeping, he could hear calm breathing all around; occasionally someone rolled on his bed. There was no point in waking the guys up only because that moron Hinata wouldn't stay still even in sleep. It was their last day on this hard training camp with teams from Kantō...

"Ouch!"

He refrained from cursing when a sharp heel hit his tight. That was enough. He sat up and reached to move Hinata around, and using as much delicacy as needed, damn him! Karasuno's short middle-blocker was sleeping by the wall, so he wouldn't disturb anyone's sleep...

"...yama..." Hinata muttered and then curled himself up, pulling his arms and legs to his chest, for the time being posing no danger.

Kageyama took his hand back and suppressed a sigh. He shook his head and yawned again, but fe felt he wouldn't be able to sleep any more. He rolled on his belly and rested his chin on the pillow, observing that handful of the Karasuno's attacker. Hinata murmured something in his sleep, and Kageyama caught himself trying to hear if it was his name again.

Ha sat up once more and tousled his hair in a sudden frustration. Dumbass Hinata frustrated him even in sleep. Kageyama realised it was even more frustrating in and of itself.

He fell on his bedding and turned his face toward his short teammate. Hinata was sound asleep and, knowing his featherbrain, undoubtedly dreaming about the play. Kageyama would never suspect him of being able to think of anything else than volleyball... Well, to be frank, the same could be said about himself - but, for once, realising it didn't really annoy him. Still, he'd rather not find any more similarities between himself and that freak of nature lying next to him.

Hinata jerked again, and Kageyama tensed involuntarily. He was determined to evade another attack, regardless of which body part would deal it. Hinata, however, relaxed and rolled on his back, muttering, "Toss to me..." and then his breath became even again when he drifted off into the deep sleep.

Suppressing another sigh, Kageyama adjusted the pillow below his chin. He realised he hadn't heard that order-request-entreaty for a longer while. For three weeks precisely. During that time they hadn't had any normal conversation, and even if they'd happened to train together, they wouldn't talk with each other. That fight was still standing between them, and Kageyama hoped - though he didn't want to admit it - that if they managed to perfect that new quick, everything would be back to normal.

If.

He pressed his face against the pillow, angry with himself and no-one else. Once, he hadn't doubted his skills. What was more, he considered himself the second best setter in the prefecture - although now remembering that blind faith and complete conceit could make him blush. Presently, however, he was under the impression that no matter how much he tried, it still wouldn't do. That was why 'if', and not 'when'. It was so unlike him... and he couldn't help it. He kept training, again and again... and he still couldn't make it. That damned toss that should stop right in front of Hinata... Second best in the prefecture? Genius setter? Ludicrous.

Maybe Hinata would never call, "Kageyama, toss to me!" again. That thought was so unpleasant he felt cold.

He lifted his head and looked at the Karasuno's miniature attacker, who was sleeping there, unaware of his setter's bad mood. Kageyama raised his arm in a sudden impulse to smash the squirt and vent his anger. It was all his fault...!

He let his hand fall down. No, it wasn't Hinata's fault. 'Are you sure you're giving him the exact tosses he wants?' Oikawa-san's words - especially confronted with his own, 'Just do as I say!' - made him understand that it was him at fault, and only him. Not that he would ever admit it aloud, never. He rolled on his back and raised up his arms. My, how he wanted to do it...! That set-up that would make Hinata send the ball exactly where it should go.

He turned to his side again and stared at the sleeping profile of his teammate he could see better in the increasing daylight. One year ago he wouldn't have even imagined tossing to someone like him. He'd expected to set to the intelligent players with high technique, aces of the courts and idols outside them. Players that got the articles written about them and photos published in sports magazines. Players who were chosen to the national team. Players who were aware that their fame was well deserved, and considered their popularity an obvious thing.

Hinata Shōyō was the complete opposite of that... beginning with the fact he didn't even look like a volleyball player. If someone had told Kageyama that in high school he would willingly and eagerly set to that red pest of height 162 centimetres, he would have undoubtedly congratulated that someone on good imagination. Now, however, after just half a year in Karasuno, there was one thing Kageyama was as certain as his own name: ten consecutive points Ushijima Wakatoshi would score from his set-up wouldn't give him as much satisfaction as Hinata's one accurate spike.

Kageyama was proud of his skills. It was his only talent. Once, he would thought that only this made Kageyama Tobio worth anything. He'd kept polishing that talent, disregarding everything else - and, at the same time, he'd become more and more convinced of his own infallibility. Now that he looked at himself from just one year ago, he felt incredibly mortified. It had required the situation when the rest of the team had cut themselves off from him, so that he could understand his mistake. It had been like a bucket of cold water. No, like a damn glacier.

Disbelief, at first. Then anger. Then understanding. Dejection. He admitted he had a breakdown, for a short moment. He'd always kept others at a distance, but now it'd been different: he had been rejected by others. Excluded from the team. Given up on, even at the cost of the lost tournament. He hadn't expected it might be such a horrendous experience. And he hadn't had a single person he could confide in. Realising that there hadn't been anyone in the whole world he could trust, had been some limit for him... He had known he could blame only himself.

He still felt something clench in his chest whenever he remembered that... whenever he thought something like that might happen again. Yet he tried. After Kitagawa Daiichi he'd decided to give himself one more chance - well, not that he'd had really any choice. He'd decided to learn from mistakes and correct his actions. He was scared to death something like that would be repeated. He couldn't let it happen. He never wanted to experience that again. He did everything in his might to be accepted for good, though he still couldn't trust it completely. Fear of rejection was constantly looming at the edge of his conscience.

The thought that Hinata might never ask him for a toss stirred feelings dangerously nearing that fear. The fight from three weeks ago was still standing between them, and Kageyama still couldn't set to him in a precise way. Yet...

Yet Hinata would still make his bed next to his. They didn't even talk and did their respective trainings apart, yet Hinata was still here. Somewhere in his field of view or slightly outside it, but not much. He was doing his best, practicing equally hard, developing in that incredible, absurd pace of his. And sometimes Kageyama thought he could see that longing gaze in the attacker's eyes... but before he managed to make sure, Hinata would turn away and resume his training, so maybe it was only his imagination.

Kageyama wished nothing more than to perfect that new toss and witness its obvious result: Hinata scoring a point for Karasuno. Hinata would then perform some crazy dance of joy, yelling at the top of his voice and making everyone stare at him like a moron he actually was. But Kageyama realised that over that half a year he'd already got used to that dumb joy - and it'd started to affect him. Whenever Hinata smashed his toss into the opponents' court, Kageyama did feel satisfaction - but it was not all.

Hinata's joy radiated warmth and, bit by bit, melted that ice he had in his chest since Kitagawa Daiichi. Sometimes Kageyama could believe that Hinata Shōyō was someone who would never leave him, even if everyone else turned their backs on him.

"Kageyama..." the red shrimp on the next mattress muttered, waving his arms in a parody of a spike. "You're awesome..."

Kageyama opened his eyes wide, and then an unexpected smile stretched his lips. He adjusted the pillow and rolled to his side. His eye-lids fell down at the sudden calm that enveloped him. "It's my line, you dumbass," he whispered and immediately felt embarrassed, although he knew he meant it.

They couldn't be called 'friends' - Kageyama used to think he didn't need friends; in fact, after Kitagawa Daiichi he believed he didn't deserve any - but they were undoubtedly partners. Dumbass Hinata and genius Kageyama. A jerk hiding in the shadow and the phenomenon soaring under the sun. Alone - they were just good volleyball players. Together - they could fight against absolutely anyone. Only Kageyama could give Hinata just the right toss. Only Hinata could motivate Kageyama to cross the limits of his own talent. They could count on each other...

Kageyama opened his eyes again when something he'd forgotten, struck him. Hinata counted on him. Believed in him and trusted him. Gosh, it was terribly annoying in and of itself - how could anyone so completely and openly trust the others when they could take advantage of you any moment? - and he was often cross with Hinata for his gullibility... But now he understand that such faith and trust could also mean something else. Hinata didn't doubt, not for a moment, that Kageyama would complete that new toss to strengthen their attack. In his mind, that probably didn't know the word 'discouragement', was no 'if', only 'when'.

Kageyama once more put his arms up and stared at his stretched fingers. Then he clenched his fists with a sudden conviction. Today was their last day in Kantō. He told himself it was a good day for a perfect toss. An impulse made him tousle Hinata's hair. 'And don't you dare to waste it,' he thought and then rolled over.

Words 'You're awesome' rang in his ears as he fell asleep in the light of the rising sun.