Practice was fine.

Mostly fine because the practice had been one that stood within the boundaries of doing well and doing bad; in other words, it hovered along the line of it being average. It's not a great sign. If anything, it's bad because his performance during the practice was affected much more than he'd like to admit.

He skids to a halt, waiting for the last sharp serve of the day to land against the other side of the court. He must have hit it harder than intended though because it wasn't long until others paused on what they were doing to stare at him in question. He stops, short circuiting for a split second after he came down to a realization that he had miscalculated and nearly smacked one of his team members in the face when his serve rebounded.

He felt his fingers twitched by the side, obviously quirked because honestly, how could he let that slip by? There was an apology on the tip of his tongue, ready to be said, but as he opened his mouth, his voice betrayed him when no words came out. Only a sound that gets caught up in his throat did.

At loss, Kageyama briskly walked past against them in a decision of retrieved his bags that lied to wait in the clubroom. He felt the many gazes pierced onto the broad of his back as he headed out of the gym, and he doesn't doubt his instincts the slightest, not after the incident back there, but right now, he couldn't exactly bring himself to care.

The walk back home was strangely deafening to his ears. Even as drops of rain heavily pounded against the shield of his umbrella, Kageyama finds it a tad bit too quiet for his taste. Quiet, not in the sense of peace and resonating ambiance but the kind that makes you shift in discomfort and think. Perhaps it was due to the lack of words nowadays that often prompted a usual competition back home, or perhaps, it could also be the absence of a certain voiceー the one that always called out to himー that he has only started thinking that he's used to it.

His gaze was stuck and plated onto the ground beneath him, paying no mind to wherever the direction he had taken his steps to but he could care less about that at the moment. Kageyama kept on trudging his way down a road, drowning out the sounds of rain and tuned into one of his own mind which was a complete void of any thoughts but silence and how numb he felt.

Peculiarly enough, although he thinks of nothing along the way, somehow he managed to rope himself in becoming lost in thoughts again because he swore, it wasn't long ago when he recently left the school gates until he saw that he was standing in front of a convenience store. The convenience store was a familiar one; one where their coach worked and it was the place they used to often come by along the way home.

He's not sure what comes after that but he remembered deciding to buy himself some meat buns from the shop. The whole thing went blur after that and when his gaze flickered down to the things he bought in his hands, only then did realize that he accidentally bought two meat buns instead of one

He reasoned that it's because he did not pay attention, and purely not out of habit.


It happens again in the middle of practice, it happened the moment he tossed up a ball.

A blur of orange came by the corner of his eyes and Kageyama once again found himself holding in his breath. He was quick to turn to the side, the ball forgotten, as hope swirled underneath the pad of his chest in expectant of something, and though the sentiment lived by the edge of a silver lining, it rose up fast. Maybe, he thought to himself, just maybe if he managed to delude himself enough and kept denying the face of reality, then he'd be back and this was all simply a dream.

It's quite strange, he thinks. It's strange how now that even if Hinata Shoyo is gone, his presence continued to linger everywhere. It's strange because he swore he heard that one infamous phrase, "Toss to me!" from behind and it sounded so, so close.

He tries not to break down when he felt his chest drop at the sight of something else instead of it being him; he tries not to break down when he realized that it no longer possible for him to be met by that one particular blinding smile and a pair of eyes crinkling at him in excitement ever again.

"Kageyama?" The mention of his name managed to haul him back into reality. He whips his head back to the side quickly, eyes trailed from where the ball laid to the creases shown on the forehead of his captain, Daichi, whom continued to stare down at him. "Do you want to take a break?" The former asked him.

"No." He replied yet the nod he gives contradicted to what he said. Daichi had only stared at him, confused, but he sighed, an 'okay' mouthed at him in return before he leaves to continue the practice.

Kageyama threw a glance over his shoulders again, a scene replayed at the back of his mind at noting down the familiar spot. He tore his gaze away after that. Nationals are coming up, he scolded himself, there's no time for him to dwindle around anymore. He blinked a few times to regain his focus and to keep himself in check.

( It's definitely not the tears he was trying to blink back. It's not because of the stinging behind his eyes either. )


It was a bit later on when he was invited to the intensive training camp for youths.

He should have felt elated at hearing this, but that's where the problem lies. He isn't. At first, he might have vibrated slightly at the news, but when he turns to rub it into a particular someone's face, it hits him like a brick that he won't be able to do that. Not only because he realized that it was a feat to be done ( given that someone is now dead ) but it just kind of dawned onto him, now that he's no longer here, he won't be there to hear news from them anymore or know how they were doingー and the last news he might have ever heard about them would be the fact that they were going to the nationals. Together.

( And the last news they would ever hear about him was his passing. )

A blank stare was set on the meal before him. It tastes bland, but truth to be told, everything somehow tasted bland for him now. Even his favorite drink of milk wasn't able to do him any justice. He still eats though, despite how he felt full at the time with a thought in mind that he should replenish some of his energy for the sake of practice later on.

"He's short but he sure can jump." He heard the person ( Broccoli #2 as he called him ) beside him commented, and he couldn't help but freeze up because the phrase somehow sounded too familiar to his ears. "Hey, I think he has the same vertical jump as that middle blocker from your team?"

His gaze flickered to where the other pointed at, and he noticed that it was the boy from before. The boy whom reminded him a bit too much of him. He paused on his eating, eyes scrutinizing every single description that detailed his character.

This boy, Hoshiumi if he recalled his name correctly, undoubtedly stands at a shorter height than his own. He remembered the time he was blocked by him, surprise evident on his face as he was taken aback by the agility of the shorter male. But that was just it, he thinks. That was all they shared in resemblance. "No," He said, confidence fostered in the projection of his tone even as he felt himself tremble slightly at the memory of a certain decoy.

"Our guy jumped even higher than him." He continued. No. Not jumped, he corrected himself.

Hinata soared.

Kageyama then proceeded to slump against the dip of his chair and sipped more from his bland flavored milk.


They lost during the semi-finals that had taken place at the nationals.

The impact put on the team was devastating. It's not fair, he crinkled his brows, it's not fair that when the team was already in a progress of recovering, they had to go back to square one when their defeat once again lied beneath the heels of the victors as they were forced to watch them cry out in triumph. They trained so hard to reach this farー they've put every ounce of their energy to overcome the obstacles, and the third years had even sacrificed a big part of their time to ensure their victoryー and yet, they still lost.

He watched as the third years share their pain together by linking their arms around one another and with a stream of tears down their faces. The others gave their share of few tears as well, albeit the idea seemed to be limited to Tsukishima. But here's the thing. Although he did not cry, it wasn't hard to read the expression on the latter's face and guess how upset he was.

On the other hand, he simply watched. As condescending as it may sound, he felt nothing nor pity as they cried. If anything, he felt emptier than before but even then, he couldn't bring himself to cry either. He couldn't bring himself to mourn over their loss in something that meant absolutely everything to him or offer a piece of his heart to join in the tangled limbs of solace and comfort.

Something must be wrong with him.

For him to slowly lose the fire kindled in a sports he loved so much, and to think that everyday now became something that's incredibly more mundane than ever for him, he knows that something was wrong. What went wrong though? ( Maybe it was the weather. Maybe he did something to upset him unconsciously. Maybe it was because Hinata Shoyo has left him for good. )

He didn't voice it though, and kept it to himself instead. He can live with it, he tells himself. If he could endure the time when he faced the betrayal of his former teammates, then he believes that he can get through this, he believes that everything would be fineー

It was meant to be an observation, one by the means of analyzing where they had went wrong and make a remark in order to improve their skills. It was the reason why they recorded every practice session they had in the first place. He isn't sure how he ended up here, it started with a single video and then the next thing he knew, he was watching one after another.

'Kageyama! Say peace!'

A smile was showcased on the light of his phone and it was so bright, too bright, that Kageyama had to squint. He takes in every detail of the person whom did a peace sign at the camera; he takes note of the way how his orange hair was splayed, how his shirt clung onto his skin due to sweat, and how his entire facial features pressed together in excitement.

'Focus on practicing, dumbass!'

'Eh, so grumpy!'

He hears his own voice being recorded over the video, a chuckle almost tore out of his throat as he watched himself lunging at the other in an attempt of grabbing his hair while the redhead dodged with a burst of laughter.

Then somehow, he ended up playing the same scene over and over again as he lied down on his mattress.

The familiar sound of laughter rang in the air from his phone, and suddenly, Kageyama felt like everything was right for the first time. He paused on the scene quickly, a sense of nostalgia crept in as he began to trace at the laughing expression of the decoy he once befriended on the screen. He laughed quietly to himself by then, and that's when the memories came to him and everything clashed all at once.

He remembered too much. Hinata being the first to ever spike his toss. Hinata being the first one to believe in him. Hinata being the first one to ever stand up to him and stand by his side. Hinata telling him that as long as he was here, he's invincible. He remembered everything, his smile, his laughs, and the way how he fidgeted before the start of their match, or whenever the crumbles of food were stuck on his face after he eats followed by Kageyama scolding him.

He remembered the soft touches and caresses shared after their loss to Aoba Jousai. He also remembered the fight he had with Hinata over the complication of their new quick. He remembered things too much, and he's feeling things too much.

It was too much, he thought as he threw an arm over his face. And then, every emotion that he kept pent up has finally burst at the seams when Kageyama lets out a single tear to fall from his eyes.

ー Kageyama believes that everything would be fine. Until one day, it isn't.

"As long as I'm here," But Hinata is no longer here, "You're invincible." He's not invincible anymore.


He was nearing to the second year in high school when Hinata's mother gave him a call for him to come over. Of course, he complied since it was Hinata's mother and it piqued his curiosity at the thought of why his mother would like him to stop by. One thing to be made for certain though, he didn't expect this to happen when he turned up.

"You're going to give them away?" Kageyama asked the woman with a hint of disbelief in his tone.

"Yes. We plan to give them as a donation to the kids in an orphanage," She replied softly, biting on the bottom of her lips. "But I thought that you'd like to look through his stuff before we give them away."

It was inevitable, he presumed, he could understand a bit of why the mother would like to give them away. After all, when a person is dead then who would be responsible for the things they left behind? Or would they simply let their things be? He posed no argument in the end but gave her a reluctant nod instead.

He was led to Hinata's room sometime later on. The door slid open, and Kageyama was mildly surprised to notice that the room was almost as exactly as it looked the last time he came here. Pictures were still stamped over the walls, there were a few books piled up by his desk, and there was a volleyball sitting on chair. Kageyama heaved in a deep intake of breath before entering the room.

The first thing that Kageyama approached was the wardrobe. He creaked it open, and the initial thought that came into mind was how small the shirts were. With a shaky hand, he reached to pull out the shirt he recognized all too well which meshed with the colors of both black and orange. It wasn't hard to miss, not when majority of the clothes in Hinata's wardrobe, as Kageyama realized, were bright colored. Bright, just like how he was.

10. He stared down at the printed number on the shirt for a longer time than intended. He lightly skims a finger over the fabric, his eyes softening at the memory of Hinata wearing this shirt. His grip tightened at the thought that Hinata can no longer wear this shirt because well, he's dead now. He won't see him in this shirt anymore, except for the pictures, memories and dreams.

"Do you want to keep it?"

He snapped up his head to glance at Hinata's mother by the doorway. With the light that fell in from the window, he now can see how tired she looked. Judging by the bags around her eyes, he could only guess that she didn't sleep. ( That was fin. He wasn't able to sleep properly for sometime now either as he always ends up having an hour worth of sleep and wake up all groggy the next day. )

"Uh. Yes. I'd... like to keep this." He muttered under his breath, his chin dropped as the tip of his ears slightly grew red.

"Tobio." At the sound of his first name being used, Kageyama blinked. He slowly lifted up his chin to meet the soft gaze of the woman's eyes. "Even if he won't admit it, he was proud to have you as a friend. He always talked about you."

He averted his gaze, his grip on the shirt tightening some more. He thought of what the woman had said, thinks that it must be a lie because honestly, who'd be proud to have him as a friend? And he even talked about him?

He nearly scoffed but stopped himself when he saw a picture frame nearby settling on a nightstand and picked it up. It was the picture taken after when they won against Shiratorizawa. They were so overwhelmed by their victory, their arms linked together tightly with a stupid grin on their face, the medals worn around their neck ever so proudly as they took a picture. And he remembers the small details on that day; small details as in secretly taken pecks and the blush that dusted the redhead's cheeks.

The words of Hinata's mother were stuck like a plague on his mind after that.

And he's taken a few things back home with him: his volleyball, his book where he copied his notes from Yachi, Hinata's volleyball shirt with a 10 on the back, and lastly, the picture that was taken of them.

...

( His second year has already started, and things just don't feel the same anymore. Although everything around him seem to be colorful, he finds everything dull. Almost like how food and milk tastes to him now.

There was no daily competition. He walked with nobody to school or back home. He had no one to call a 'dumbass' anymore. There were no more lousy insults to be thrown around. Even so, he sees him everywhere he went. Now he understands the phrase of how we should enjoy the little things in life; he didn't get to cherish them and now, he missed the little things they did together like how sometimes Hinata would join their fingers together and swing their hands around, or the times when they just sit next to each other in peaceful silence.

It took time for him to realize but they were compatible outside of the court just as much as they were in it. But there's one thing that bothered him.

Whatever happened to their promise of staying on top of the world together? )

...

Whoever said that time heal all wounds were wrong.

It's been a year since Hinata passed away. It's been a year since Kageyama had to deal with the aftermath; his emotions that crippled him due to his poor coping skills. It has also been a year since he tried to move on but with no such luck, it's taken him a long while and he's still in the process of recovering.

Kageyama was beginning to learn a lesson in life. He now knows that although time might play a major part in a recovery, the process of healing would be incredibly slow if no effort was made to move on. So, he kept pushing himself, worked to move on from the past and from the looks of it so far, he could say that he's getting there.

It was a year later when he was starting to see a few colors again, and his interest in volleyball was sparked to life again. Kageyama was sure though, he was sure that this wound would never be completely healed. Even now, he feels better compared to before, there still remains a slight trace of aching swelling under his chest but it's definitely not as worse as the last time when he thinks that he was going to die.

( He's still recovering but even so, there were days when he had a mild breakdown. He accepted the fact that he was indeed mourning over Hinata, how much he missed him, and that he might be a little in love with him and his sunshine smile. )

It was a year later after the tragic event when Kageyama stands in a court again, a small smile etched on his face as he proudly wore a shirt with a printed number of 10 on the back.

His wings may be clipped now, but for Hinata, he'd soar.