pHe is uptight. Well, not exactly. He's just one of those people who like to follow a pretty formal dress code to a 'T'. White shirts buttoned all the way up to the neck, same with the cuffs. Not a wrinkle mars the fabric, and Hinata wonders how that guy can pull it off every day, seven days a week, 365 days in a year. Even his hair is neat; dark hair parts evenly around his face with bangs cut just so, so that most of it stays in the middle of his forehead while the rest are cropped short enough that they don't fall into his eyes. Who was this guy even kidding? This was college, where no one cares about what the heck they wear as long as it's in dress code./p
p /p
pHinata always refers to the other as 'that guy' because he doesn't know his name. Was it that Hinata had such a busy schedule that he couldn't ask? No. It was pretty much the exact opposite. Was it because he didn't want to disturb 'that guy's' work at the library? Maybe. Or not, because his personality is more towards action than quiet. Was it because the mystery man had this air of "don't-come-near-me-or-so-help-me-I-will-'insert threat here'"? Bingo. It was, to put it simply, pathetic, that he couldn't just go up to this person and introduce himself. He knows this, but he can't do it. He just can't. It doesn't help that the other is rarely seen in any other place than working in the library. /p
p /p
pHinata scoffs: the library! Why be inside a stuffy old place filled with outdated books when one could be having the time of one's life with friends, breathing fresh air, being and feeling truly alive? He views his surroundings at his usual station at the lamppost: a sea of green grass, picnic tables scattered here and there, a few hammocks strung between trees, all surrounded by tall buildings-now, this was real living. "Well", he admits to himself, "if I'm all for that life, why am I worrying about this guy?" Why is this so important to him anyway? The guy's obviously one out of however many students that attend this college, one guy who always wears the same style every day, but still! No one dresses like that! Hinata laughs quietly as his thoughts transitioned quickly into a tangent./p
p /p
pJust one accidental crossed path on the staircase with the taller male a few weeks ago led to this obsession. By crossed path, it meant Hinata veering off mid-step to the side to avoid crashing into a complete stranger while he ran late to class for the third time that week... Wait. Obsession? He shakes his head; that's absurd. He just wants to know the name, the name that gives a person identity, a purpose in life, even. He nods his head in agreement with himself, good thinking, me! He decides to write down that thought in his journal later, but after-/p
p /p
pThe bell resounds through the campus grounds, making his shoulders twitch in surprise. What time was it again? He checks his watch but the battery's dead, making him shake it angrily in the hopes that some remaining juice would make it work for just a few seconds, but no dice. He squints in the afternoon sun and suddenly realizes that it's his last class, math. He groans loudly and starts to run to the other side of the campus, halfway there in two minutes, until he skids to a halt; his backpack is still there by the lamppost./p
p-/p
p /p
pWith a weak excuse that tumbled easily enough from his mouth, to flailing inwardly during his math test accompanied by a feeling of despair with one glance at the first question, Hinata manages to get through the class by the skin of his teeth. And then it was time. As he walks down the hallway, he fiddles with a spare pencil, twirling it around his fingers: a habit he developed in middle school and often got chastised for when he interrupted lessons when he accidentally let it fall to the floor. Around and around it goes, either end grazing his fingers as he stops to stare at the wooden double doors of the library entrance, eyes roving over every letter in the plaque nailed overhead. /p
p /p
pHe holds his breath- he doesn't know why- and pushes the doors open. He finally made it to the library and actually stepped inside after numerous failed attempts to gather up his courage- the courage that was beaten down when he saw his friends being blown off by "that guy" and from rumors. He exhales, and his air meets the accumulation of dust on the fake potted plant on his right, causing the dust to rise up and figuratively smack him in the face.
Coughing, he stumbles away, tripping on a pile of books before he even manages to go past three feet, said pile sending him headfirst onto the floor and causing his pencil to roll away somewhere. After the brief interaction between his face and the musty carpet, Hinata springs up, dusts his clothes off, beams widely to cover up his embarrassment, and turns to unexpectedly meet the face of, or the head of-/p
p /p
pA young man who is bent over the service counter, face wiped of any emotion, but it's clear that he is completely engrossed in a piece of paper. So, he's actually not looking at Hinata. The latter tries to sneak a look by reading upside down but gives up when his eyes start to strain; he resorts to rocking back and forth on his feet to wait until he gets noticed. A minute passes and nothing happens other than the occasional twitch of "that guy's" finger as he marks his place on what he's reading. It slowly moves to the side and down the page until it pauses on the last paragraph.
Hinata's rocking accelerates ever so slightly, and he coughs once. Nothing. Four minutes pass and his legs are starting to cramp a little, and meanwhile, the paper is exchanged for one with no words but only numbers on the left margin. A hand reaches for a pencil located a few centimeters away in a cup filled with others just like it, and Hinata can't take it anymore. He slams his palm against the counter, the cup rattles, and blue eyes flash up to meet his own brown ones and he's taken aback at their ferocity. He doesn't have time to glare back because those eyes meet the paper again and the pencil starts to write furiously next to the numbers./p
p /p
p"Excuse me," Hinata says after a long pause, "Could you direct me to the books on psych-"/p
p /p
p"Second floor on the right." The other cuts in smoothly, not bothering to look up again from the desk. The pencil moves back up to number three and corrects a word or two./p
p /p
p"Okay, uh…" His eyes flick to the name tag pinned on that immaculate shirt. "Tobio." Yes, Tobio. Finally, Hinata thinks, why couldn't he have done this sooner? He gets a sudden urge to stick around a little longer to pester the assumed librarian./p
p /p
p"Alright Tobio, where are the books about accounting?"/p
p /p
p"First floor, middle aisle. And it's Kageyama to you." He replies, sounding slightly irritated./p
p /p
pDamn. Tobio was really good at this book finding stuff, and he didn't even falter once./p
p /p
p"Cool, what about-" He starts to say./p
p /p
p"Are you trying to play games with me? I'm trying to work but you're still standing here with your petty questions that you could answer yourself if you looked at the shelves!" Tobio snaps, lifting his eyes from the written inventory./p
p /p
p"Geez, I'll just take the book I want and get out then," Hinata starts to back up with his hands put up in a mock "I surrender" pose and sprints up to the second floor- "Hey! No running in the library!" Tobio yells from down below- and back down with a book in each hand./p
p /p
p"You must really love pushing my buttons, oh, and in case you can't count, you said only one book," Tobio grumbles as he scans the books' barcodes. "ID, please," He says, with the 'please' tacked on to the end with fake sincerity./p
p /p
p"Thanks Tobio!" Hinata calls over his shoulder a few minutes later as he walks out, completely forgetting to take back his ID./p
p /p
p"It's Kageyama!" He snarls at the retreating back./p