notes. well, the prompt was 'end', but i don't even know where it went writing fics over a couple of days is hard wow. Also, this is the end of my prompt series for kagehinakagemonth, so yay? nay? R&R?
. . .
He's surprised that, of all people, volleyball-crazy Hinata is the one to bring up the question.
"Hey, Bakageyama, what are you gonna do after Tokyo championships is over?" Hinata asks him after practice.
He's probably going to practicing volleyball. There's no surprise there, and he tells the red-head as much.
"Not that! I mean other than volleyball!" Hinata waves his hands around expectantly.
Holding hands, they're watching a movie, or they're just cuddling, he doesn't care as long as Hinata's curled up by his side and he bends down to place a kiss on his boyfriend's forehead― "Don't know yet," he mutters, and sets up another ball for not-his-boyfriend-and-possibly-very-straight-Hinata to spike, effectively ending the conversation.
. . .
The decoy doesn't bring it up again until after practice. They're walking home, exhausted, Hinata walking his bike along. Although the calendar says it's spring, the cold temperatures still mean they're bundled up with scarves and hats, hunching against the occasional gust.
"I'm gonna be practicing with Nishinoya-senpai over the summer! He's gonna teach me the Rolling Thunder, and how to get the ball every time!"
"Didn't he try to teach it to you during the camp?"
"Yeah, but this time it's official! The official Rolling Thunder training of Hinata Shouyo!" Hinata tries to strike a pose along with his words, but his bike gets in the way. He carries on as best as he can, balancing it against his hip and waving his arms around.
What an idiot, Kageyama thinks as he trudges on. He can hear the orange-head catch up beside him, and they fall into a lull of silence. The season is over when it's over. Plenty of time to think about what to do until then.
"Oh, yeah, I needed to tell you something." Hinata clears his throat, and Kageyama turns his head to see an unusually serious expression on his face. "Kageyama, please don't use the freak-quick during championships."
He's surprised, then confused. "Why'd we do that, Hinata? It's a good combo, and―"
"I know, I know that!" Hinata nods furiously. "But..I dunno. I really don't want to use it. We're learning new combos, and if we constantly fall back on this when we're in trouble, it'll become predictable, and we might not get as comfortable with the other combos if we're constantly relying on that one." Hinata has his eyes boring into him, and he looks away, uncomfortable with the intensity of the stare.
"Fine. No freak-quick."
"Pinky-promise!" A hand is stuck out to him, last finger lifted from a fist, and he reluctantly reciprocates the gesture.
Satisfied, Hinata smiles. "That wasn't too bad, was it?"
Kageyama nods dumbly in response, and hastily turns away. He ignores the fluttering he has in his stomach at Hinata's grin, and pretends that the wind is the only reason his cheeks are turning red.
. . .
Of course, as if to spite him, the days fly away one after the other, and he's left with a handful of practices left before the orange court.
He's running through his set-quicks with Hinata, preparing for all the different combos they've schemed up, when the question flashes through his mind, disrupting his concentration. His hands falter, and the ball he was setting goes awry. Hinata barely manages to touch it, still smacking it into the court.
"My bad," he calls out. "It won't happen again."
He pushes the question far, far back into his mind for the rest of practice, where it simmers and stews away.
What are you going to do after championships?
He's playing volleyball, he tells himself. He'll fix up his serves, and pass first year exams, and why does this even matter right now? Championships are less than a week away, and it's a thousand times more important right now than the rest of his school year.
Hinata looks as if he's ready to explode from lack of practicing, so he hurriedly tosses up another ball and sets the new spike for the decoy to hit.
. . .
Championships are long and terrifying, and although every match is brutally intense, they make it to the final day.
They're all exhausted, and most of them are practically asleep on their feet. When they're back at the hotel Daichi wearily tells them to go rest up for tomorrow. None of them raise a ruckus, and Kageyama watches as Nishinoya leans into Asahi, quiet off the court for once. He can feel his eyelids drooping, so when Daichi dismisses all of them, he trudges up the stairs to his room.
Hinata's already sitting in front o the door, stifling yawns and kneading his legs, wincing whenever he finds a tight knot of muscle. Suddenly, the image of Nishinoya and Asahi from earlier pops into his head, and he wishes that Hinata'd do the same for him. Kageyama clears his throat awkwardly, watching Hinata look up.
"Dumbass, I need you to move if we wanna get in the room." Hinata glares at him, but there's no real bite behind it. He rolls over to the side, letting Kageyama step up to the lock as he fumbled for the key. He finally pulls the slender card out, and a quick swipe later, they're in.
They both rush to get sleep, changing and brushing and finally collapsing onto their respective beds. Kageyama groans; the feeling of a mattress under him is beyond bliss.
He's nearly drifted off to sleep when that annoying question pops into his head. What are you going to do after the season is over? He tries to brush it away, but it won't disappear, mocking him with it's presence. He growls. Of all the times it could come up...
"..Mm? Kage-baka, you alright?" A sleepy voice drifts over from the other bed, and he curses silently. Of course, Hinata has to be up as well.
"..Nothing. Go back to sleep."
"I can't. Nerves." He does seem a bit tense, Kageyama thinks. It would make sense, what with his habit of puking on the way to major matches and tournaments.
"Don't you dare throw up in bed. Drag over the trash can, you can go puke there."
"Waaah, Kageyama, you're too cruel!"
"Dumbass, you're the one in danger of throwing up." he sighs. "Tomorrow will be fine. You'll be fine. We'll blow them away, right?"
There's only silence from the other bed.
"Yo, dumbass, you hear me?"
"..I don't want tomorrow to come." The words are mumbled, and Kageyama isn't sure he heard what he thought he did. He sits up, all traces of exhaustion gone. Hinata's back is turned to him, and he can't see his face.
"You didn't mean that, did you?"
The lump that is Hinata curls up tighter. "No, I did."
Kageyama opens his mouth to protest, but Hinata beats him to it. "I mean, this is going to be the last match ever with our team. After tomorrow, even if we win, the third-years have to leave. And," there's a trace of a sob in his voice, "We'll come back after next season, and Nishinoya and Tanaka and Ennoshita'll be gone, and then we'll be the third years, and we'll all scatter after graduation, and―" he breaks off, choking on what sounds like a sob.
Oh.
Kageyama didn't realize that Hinata had been this worried about the future. While he had been avoiding the issue, Hinata had been panicking over it; typical of the decoy not to tell anyone.
He sighs. Hinata's gotten so worked up about it that he's crying about it, and something vaguely uncomfortable stirs in the pit of his stomach.
"Oi, Hinata." He tries to soften his voice to something more comforting, but seeing the way that the redhead stiffens, he's not sure if it worked. "You're getting too worked up. Right now, tomorrow's more important than anything in the future."
"Why?" Another mumble, but he can hear it.
"Because if you're not at your peak condition tomorrow, all the practices and training that we've done aren't going to mean anything if we lose, dumbass."
A pause, then the sheets go flying as Hinata comes up to glare at Kageyama. "Who said anything about losing? We're not gonna lose, Bakageyama!"
"Then go to sleep, you idiot! Sleep deprivation isn't good for you!"
"Fine! You go sleep first!"
"You were the one being all emotional! Go sleep, idiot!"
"Not before you!"
Kageyama lets out a growl of frustration, and Hinata squeaks. "Fine! Whoever gets less sleep has to buy a pork bun for the other person!"
"You better have money when we get back, Kage-baka!"
They both dive under their sheets, and the room is thankfully quiet, its inhabitants drifting off to sleep.
. . .
What are you going to do once the season's over?
. . .
His dreams are fragmented, aimless, and full of people leaving him.
. . .
He wakes up, disoriented and slightly panicked, to see Hinata sleeping soundly. He looks perfectly content, tangled in his sheets like usual, and the mundane sight somehow manages to get him calmed down.
He shakes his head. Today isn't the day to worry about the end of the season. The third years are still here, as are the second years, and today's the day that matters the most.
He slides out of bed, feet on the floor, and heads to the bathroom to shower.
. . .
The match is as hard as he expected, and more. He doesn't know how many times he sets up the ball, only for Hinata to get blocked out by the opponents guarding him. They're all struggling, the number of points they score equal to the number of balls they can't quite save.
The crows aren't giving up, though. Coach Ukai calls a break, and the sweating, breathless court players collect around him. He runs his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated.
"Okay. We knew this last match wasn't going to be a walk in the park." He huffs out a breath, eyes each of them in turn. "These guys have been the reigning champs for the past two years. The fact that you guys are within a point of them is phenomenal. Let's keep it up, and don't forget to connect to your teammates. What one of you can do is infinitely multiplied with the help of your team. Got it?"
"Ossu!"
And then they're back on the court, ready to fight to the death.
. . .
They lose the first set, but win the second. Each volley is insanely long, each point won with a vicious struggle. They somehow make it to the third round, and then they're stuck in a deuce, never more than a point ahead or behind.
He doesn't know how they get a point ahead, or behind; all he's doing is setting the ball, over and over and over, adjusting for each spiker. He occasionally dumps, but the other blocker's caught on, so he tries to outthink them, setting to the people least likely to be targeted.
His body's tired, but his mind is racing, taking everything on the court into account for his calculations. He sets, he saves, he serves. Over and over and over.
Hinata's the one who spikes the decisive point, the freak-quick he chose bouncing away into the very middle of the court. He counts three people diving for it, trying to keep the ball in play, but it's too fast, hurtling across the court, into the wall even. Hinata comes crashing down, but he's fine; just a stunned look on his face as he realizes the implication of the point they just won.
He knows he broke the promise he made, but his calculations were all in a 20% success rate, until he had remembered the quick.
Hinata wouldn't mind, he thought. They did it in the end.
. . .
Later, that night, Hinata reveals that he did mind, very much, and they start an argument that he didn't realize would even happen. And of course, in his exhaustion his mouth runs away from his mind, and his whole secret crush on Hinata is revealed to none other than―who else could it be, with such stunning irony―the crush himself.
He's still not sure how they got together, but he's at least glad the ridiculous grin on his face is hidden in the darkness.
. . .
They have one last practice, before the season is disbanded. It's not much of one; they run through a couple drills, and then Coach announces they're free to do whatever they want.
'Whatever they want' turns out to be a match of third years against first, with the second years split evenly up between the two teams. It's intense and exhilarating, and of course it's by pure coincidence that the third years win.
They switch from opponents to teammates again in the blink of an eye, critiquing each others' technique and form, and then Tanaka and Nishinoya start goofing around, and somehow an intense game of dodgeball flies together in a split second. Volleyballs fly everywhere, and Kageyama manages to nail a beauty right in Tsukishima's face.
He barely has any time to gloat until he gets whammed by Daichi, and it's a couple more minutes before the game dies down, leaving players sprawled across the gym floor, shaking with lack of oxygen and hysterical laughter.
For what reason, they can't tell, and neither can Kageyama.
. . .
They're saying goodbye to the seniors at graduation, and Hinata's bawling his eyes out.
"Waaagh, why do you have to go, Daichi-senpai!" The senpai pats Hinata on the shoulder, smiling.
"Hinata, you'll be fine. Don't worry a single bit," he tells him, and the redhead sniffles, wiping his face with his arm.
"I will," Hinata manages to blubber out, and Daichi laughs.
"You'll do fine, too." Somehow, Kageyama didn't notice Sugawara approaching, and he's startled into a squeak. "Just concentrate, and rely on your teammates. They're there for you."
"I-I will," he stammers, and Sugawara's smile deepens into a mischievous grin. He steps up to Kageyama, who goes rigid, and cups his mouth near his ear.
"Besides," he whispers, "You've got Hinata to take care of you, right?"
Kageyama feels a blush creep up his face, and he tries to stammer out a reply; but Suga merely laughs, pats his shoulder. "Don't worry, the secret's not out yet." With that, the senpai moves on, heading towards Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, smiling his bright smile—but Kageyama can sense a devious smirk hiding somewhere within the upperclassman.
He wonders, with a curl of dread, how long 'yet' is going to last.
"Hey, you alright?" Hinata chirps from over his shoulder, and he involuntarily flinches. The redhead frowns. "You seem a bit, I dunno, off. Are you sick? The spring cold's been going around lately, and if you get sick, then I'llget sick, and—"
"Fine," Kageyama bursts out, and he can feel the blush spreading down his neck. "I'm fine. Not sick." He glances towards the door; he's already said goodbye to the graduating seniors, and they'll probably still run into everyone at the Foothill Store for the long break, and getting out early suddenly seems like a very favorable plan. "Hey, Shouyo, let's go somewhere. Fast food, my treat."
Hinata grins. "Sure, Tobio, why not!" He suddenly sprints towards the door, leaving Kageyama unprepared. "I'm gonna get there way before you!"
He wastes no time going after the decoy. Boyfriend or not, his winning streak in racing Hinata isn't about to be broken by a fast-food run.
. . .
One intense race (Kageyama wins, barely) and an order later, they're downing fries and soda at a two-person window booth when Kageyama looks up to see Hinata looking at him thoughtfully.
"What?" he mumbles around a mouthful of potato, and Hinata starts, flailing his hands.
"N-nothing! Just," there's a a hint of red creeping into Hinata's cheeks, Kageyama notes, "um, well, Suga-senpai was talking to me and..." his voice trails off, and the decoy stares into his fries, finding something particularly fascinating with what he sees there.
Oh. Right.
"Yeah, he was talking to me too," Kageyama says. "Er. I guess he knows about us?"
"Yeah, but now I think everyone does!" Hinata wails, burying his head in his arms. " 'Cause Nishinoya-senpai and Tanaka-senpai were nagging me about it too, and then Yachi kind of asked me at the ending ceremony yesterday, and if they know," he takes a breath, "then they're not the best secret-keepers, so it's the same as if we shouted it out at a match."
"Oi, dumbass." As Hinata looks up, Kageyama leans over and flicks him on the forehead.
"Ow! What—"
"Do you not want this?" he gestures between the two of them, and pops another fry into his mouth. "I mean, if we're going out, this is happening at some point in time."
"Yeah, I guess..." He can see Hinata deliberating, and he smiles. "Dumbass. It'll be fine."
On a sudden impulse, he leans across the table and kisses Hinata on the forehead, stealing a fry in the process. Hinata startles, then narrows his eyes at the fry in-between the setter's fingers. "Hey! That's not fair!"
He grins, pops the fry into his mouth, and turns to look out the window—
Where what seems like the entire volleyball team is staring at their exchange. He dimly recognizes Sugawara off to the side, smiling a demon smile.
It's a bit muffled, but he can hear Nishinoya's crow of delight. "Ha! What'd I tell ya, Tanaka, ey?" He nudges the bald spiker, whose scowling. "Pay up!"
Pay up? Kageyama wants to sink into the ground, but the team is already exchanging money and arguing about the specific betting amount. He can see Daichi wrap an arm around Sugawara, and they're smirking through the window.
Well, that wasn't very long.
He glares at them all, but it seems to have no effect on the grinning players. Hinata's sunk into his seat, face as red as his hair, and he can imagine embarrassed steam coming out of his ears.
His ears are burning too, but somehow, he feels a weight lifting off his shoulders. It wasn't how he imagined it—quite the opposite—but if they all know, then...
He reaches over the tiny table, ignoring the food this time, and kisses Hinata properly, bringing up a hand to cradle the decoy's cheek. He tastes like fries, and salt, and when he opens his eyes, Hinata's staring back at him, but with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
...might as well enjoy it.