Author's note:
*bows.* Gomenasai.
I know I've been away for a long time, and that's unforgivable. Schoolwork caught up with me, and unfortunately, that takes top priority. I had to put writing in the very back seat until I graduated and became a free woman.
I am back to writing again. Please have patience with me as I get back up to speed! As an apology, please accept this KageHina fluff.
This fic is set in the second season, before the Spring Tournament. I do not own anything but the story itself. Haikyuu! belongs to Haruichi Furudate.
"Everything you do is super fucking cute, and I can't stand it."
—Nevershoutnever!
There was nothing more important to Kageyama than balance. If something wasn't stable—if it couldn't hold its weight—then the entire structure would fall. It was why he practiced his sets so diligently, until he could move the ball with his mind as much as his hands: without that control, everything would crumble.
In the past, he had tried to put all of it on his shoulders. He hadn't trusted his teammates enough and had stolen the court for himself—but taking it all had left him greedy for more. He had turned tyrannous, screaming and blustering every time they lost focus and disrupted their system, not realizing that by doing so he was destroying the very thing he was trying to create.
Until, one day, he had tossed the ball into the air—and it stopped working.
Now, he had learned that volleyball was a machine, and he didn't have all of the working parts; he was only one of them. If he wanted to be efficient, to win, he had to relax and let others share the burden. At the same time, he himself had to uphold his end, and to do that, he had to be calm. He needed to be focused, resilient—as sturdy as a cliff face up against crashing waves.
That was why today was such a disaster.
The ball was spiraling up, arcing perfectly towards him. He reached up, his fingertips bent back, waiting for impact. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it: a flash, barely a flicker. His eyes creaked around, longing to follow it.
Focus.
He steeled himself and caught his breath just as the ball collided with his hands. He pushed up. The ball soared over his head, honing in on the blur that was leaping up over the net. He gritted his teeth; panic speared into him.
It was short.
He saw the second where Hinata froze. Then, it was gone. His arm was whipping out, stretching, covering the lost distance—until it connected. The ball knifed over the net, hitting the gymnasium floor and shaking it with thunder.
Hinata landed, and for a moment, he didn't move. Then he stood up and craned his head back, his eyes landing on Kageyama.
Kageyama cleared his throat. "Sorry. That was short."
Hinata turned, placing his hands on his hips. "That's the third one you've missed today."
"It's not like I'm doing it on purpose."
"Then why are you doing it?"
"What kind of a question is that?" he demanded.
Hinata's face snapped into anger. He clenched his fists. "It's a perfectly good question! You're usually flawless, so it's even more obvious when you mess up!"
Kageyama flinched. A retort rolled its way into his mouth, but no sooner did it rise than it fell, and with no words to use, he only stared at Hinata, digging his fingernails into his palms.
Hinata's brow wrinkled, waiting for his retaliation —but it never came. After a silence—smoothed over by the squeal of sneakers, the drumming of balls hitting the floor—he straightened and let out a breath.
"One more," he insisted. He spun on his heel and took off, putting distance between himself and the net.
Kageyama exhaled and rolled his neck, trying to rattle himself back into focus. He flexed his fingers a few times experimentally to induce circulation.
Then he stopped, Hinata's words hitting a ricochet and shooting back through his mind.
You're usually flawless.
Kageyama's mind whirred as he processed them. Was that...a compliment?
xXx
The rest of practice was a haze of indefinite sets, spikes, and sound that was shallow in his ears. At seven thirty p.m., Coach Ukai dismissed them, and they all aided in cleaning up the gymnasium. At quarter-to, they were filing out the door. Kageyama was a few steps behind Nishinoya and Tanaka, who had a pair of earbuds strung between them and were laughing hysterically at Tanaka's phone. Kageyama watched them in distant silence.
"Kageyama!"
Kageyama paused, then turned. Hinata was coming up from behind, and at first, Kageyama assumed he was about to ask for a toss—but he was holding out a water bottle to him instead of a ball.
"You left this," he panted. "In the locker room."
"Oh." He took it from him carefully. "Thanks."
He took a swig from it, and Hinata matched his pace, sharing the quiet. He had a volleyball in his hand—Kageyama was afraid it was surgically attached; he never put it down anymore—and was tossing it senselessly into the air. The beat when it smacked his hand mirrored Kageyama's heartbeat, which seemed to crescendo the longer that he stared at him. His orange hair was damp from his shower but already recovering, spiking in every direction. A square of moonlight glanced on his cheek, illuminating a fallen eyelash. Kageyama almost brushed it away.
The team continued the trek towards the convenience store. Nishinoya and Tanaka were now advertising the video to Asahi, who seemed far less enthusiastic than they did. Daichi and Suga were leading the pack, talking softly to themselves. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi brought up the rear, walking in companionable silence.
Kageyama was pretty sure he was the only one who felt bottled up and ready to explode.
"Are you two okay?" Ennoshita sprung up from behind, making Kageyama jump, his skin ripple. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hinata flinch. "You're being awfully quiet."
"No kidding," Tanaka agreed. He pulled his earbud out and turned around to look at them. "You guys didn't get in another fight, did you?"
"No!" Kageyama exclaimed the same moment Hinata cried, "Of course not!"
Tsukishima whispered something into Yamaguchi's ear, who laughed. Kageyama's teeth went on edge.
"We're fine." Kageyama made sure every word that came out of his mouth was even. "Everything's fine between us."
"That's even worse!" Nishinoya slashed his arms at the air, his fingers curled into claws. "Do you guys know how weird that is?"
"Even I'm getting chills," Suga agreed.
"If you guys don't hurry up," Daichi called, making everyone start, "I'm going to eat all of the pork buns myself."
They all scuttled forward. Kageyama and Hinata fell back, and Kageyama was surprised to find himself struggling for something to say—something to break the tension.
"Oh, hey." Suga turned his head back, eyes cast on Hinata. "That reminds me: Hinata, where's your bike?"
Hinata's head snapped up. "What?"
"You ride your bike to school, right? Where is it?"
Kageyama frowned. He strained his memory, but his images from that morning were distorted and fuzzy. He knew that Suga was right, but he wasn't sure if Hinata had arrived on his bike that morning or not.
"Oh." Hinata laughed. "It had a flat. I'll have it back by tomorrow."
This seemed to satisfy the question—but Kageyama was watching Hinata under a microscope, and he saw the almost indistinct twitch of his jaw. He immediately felt himself tense.
xXx
When they reached the convenience store, Hinata followed Daichi inside – but before he walked in, he whirled around on his heel, bracing his feet.
"Kageyama!" He hoisted his volleyball. "Catch!"
Kageyama reached up, and Hinata threw the ball in a perfect curve into his hands. The feeling when it collided with his palms was a breath of fresh air.
"Why can't you receive like that?" he asked.
"Shut up!" he retorted. "I know!"
Kageyama shared a smile with the ground. When the doors closed behind them, he slumped back and let out a breath, draining like helium from a balloon. He spun the ball inattentively, loving how it whispered across his fingers, the pressure of it against his skin. He held it to his nose and inhaled the distant scent of rubber.
He sensed Suga's approach more than he saw it. His presence was quiet and calming, but there was the softest hint of apprehension layered underneath; Suga was, for the most part, a very gentle soul, but when he was angry, he made Kageyama absolutely terrified. He had learned very quickly not to poke the bear with a stick.
"So," he began casually. "You were a little off at practice today."
Kageyama clenched the volleyball, biting his lip. "I let my emotions distract me," he admitted. He glanced up to survey the team: everyone was hustled into their own little groups, not paying them any attention. He sighed. "I'm sorry."
"Your emotions?" Suga quirked a brow. "What were you thinking so hard about? That's not like you."
He roamed his finger around the circumference of the ball, stealing time. "It's not important. I'll work harder next time."
Suga watched him, and his stare was heavy against the side of Kageyama's head. He didn't have to say anything; Kageyama could hear his accusation loud and clear.
The door to the convenience store clattered open, jarring everyone's attention. Daichi and Hinata walked out side by side, a bag of pork buns in the crook of each elbow. Hinata grabbed two from his, handed the bags off to Asahi, and then ambled over to Kageyama.
Kageyama wondered if it was physically possible for your heart to beat the living shit out of you, because that's what he felt like his was doing.
Hinata held something up to him. It was a carton of milk, just like the ones he inhaled from the vending machine at school. Kageyama took it, as well as the pork bun offered, and ripped off a bite.
Hinata popped a straw in his milk box and took a sip, his immense brown eyes never breaking away from him.
Kageyama waited a moment, then without thinking said, "Do you want to go somewhere?"
Hinata tensed. "What?"
Kageyama wished he could take the words back, but they had already disappeared. He cleared his throat and sharpened the edge of his voice. "I was just thinking we could go for a walk. Or something."
Hinata didn't say anything. Beads of sweat peppered Kageyama's skin, collecting on his brow, his hands, the back of his neck. He clenched his milk carton so hard, it warped into the shape of an hourglass.
Hinata shrugged. "Okay," he said at last. A tiny smile appeared.
Kageyama's grip loosened. The milk carton gasped for air just as much as he did.
"All right," he replied, unnecessarily. It came out too cheerily, so he added, "Whatever."
xXx
They snuck away, and their feet directed them towards the park. Throughout the entire trip, Hinata never let the ball rest. It was constantly in motion, spinning, swirling, leaping into the air before diving back down again. Kageyama was unable to break his eyes away from it, hypnotized by the dance of Hinata's fingers.
He ached to hold them. He wanted to put them to his mouth.
He rattled himself and pretended to be interested in the road ahead. They didn't speak, but it was as if there wasn't room for them to, and neither of them was willing to make up for it. Open mouths led to conversations, which in their case usually led to arguing, and that was a sharp object Kageyama wasn't tempted to play with.
They arrived at the park far sooner than he'd expected, but it could've been his scrambled thoughts messing with the relationship between distance and time. It was vacant, the late hour casting a dark shadow over the fields, but the stars were gentle above, suspending it in a romantic atmosphere.
The ball finally settled into Hinata's hands once and for all. The slap of it against his palms was like a slamming door in the complete quiet. At length, he mused, "It's too late to practice."
"Mm."
"We'd probably get hit in the face if we tried."
"You're good at that, aren't you?"
The words slipped out, and a stab of panic followed them—but Hinata was laughing. Kageyama watched him, his ears ringing with it. It sounded like wind chimes.
"Yeah." Hinata tipped his head back and threw his gaze to the stars. Summer leaves interrupted their view, snaking across the sky, but the canopy was sparse enough for natural light to trickle through them.
Hinata watched the stars; Kageyama watched him.
"I'm glad we're not fighting anymore," Hinata said at last.
Kageyama was suddenly ever more aware of just how quiet it was.
"I mean, we'll always be fighting—but not like that. I never...I can't..." His confidence was draining out of him. He smacked the ball thoughtlessly as if it could produce words for him. "It made me feel...bleh. Fighting with you." He dropped his gaze and turned it towards him, and his eyes were laced with firepower—they burned. "I never want to do that again."
The ground underneath Kageyama's feet suddenly didn't feel so steady. He was at once grateful for the darkness because he couldn't trust his cheeks not to be searing with heat.
He swallowed. "Me neither."
Hinata grinned, and even in the blackness, it shone. Kageyama had the sensation of looking directly into the sun. For a moment, the world grew very, very small.
Hinata laughed, and as Kageyama collected himself, he broke into a run, charging for a shadow in the distance. "Come on!" he cried out, twirling on his heel and jogging backward. "I'll challenge you!"
"What are you talking about?"
"The swings!" He jabbed a finger at them. "Let's see who can jump the highest!"
"I thought we wanted to avoid things that would hit us in the face! Like the ground?"
"Come on!" he repeated, more urgently. "It'll be fine!"
"That's what they always say!" he retorted, but he was already in motion, running up beside him. Hinata started sprinting.
They tossed their bags aside and settled in. The seat felt awkward hugging Kageyama's body; he couldn't remember the last time he had ever sat in a swing. He glanced over at Hinata, and he was already kicking off, legs pumping him higher and higher into the air.
Kageyama pushed off with his feet.
It wasn't long before the bottom of his stomach dropped out from underneath him. The rise and fall of the swing turned him inside-out, offsetting his center of balance and letting nausea slowly creep in. He took a deep breath through his nose and forced himself higher until the ground was farther away than the sky.
Hinata laughed, and when Kageyama looked at him, he was luminous. His hair swirled around his face and his eyes were open wide, his smile the unmerciful one of a child. He streaked through the air like a meteor, and Kageyama thought that this was how he should always look: in motion, in flight, never standing still.
"Ready?" Hinata asked. They swung in tandem, their paces evenly matched. "Three...two...one...now!"
Kageyama tore himself out of the swing. He gasped as the world seemed to turn over on itself, as time ripped in half, and for one moment, he was suspended over the earth like a god. Everything seemed so small and so far away.
Then the ground came rushing up to meet him. At the last second his common sense kicked in, and he bent his knees just before he crashed down.
The force of his fall surged up his legs like a shock wave. He struggled to keep his balance but ended up caving in and falling on his hands, grunting with the exertion. His calves throbbed and his feet were stinging with pain. He glanced back to see where Hinata had landed.
A dark figure was hurtling towards him.
Kageyama swore and rolled just before Hinata crash-landed with a sound like a strangled bird, centimeters from where he had just been. He flipped once before landing on his face, arms braced beside him and utterly useless. Kageyama caught a muffled groan.
"Ow," Hinata whimpered. He attempted to prop himself up with his hand. "That...hurt."
"Obviously, you dumbass! What did I tell you?" Kageyama pulled him up. Hinata wobbled, and Kageyama grabbed his shoulders. "Jeez. Did you hit your head?"
"No..." Hinata touched his nose gingerly. "Just my face. Am I bleeding?"
"Not anywhere that I can see." Kageyama picked some grass from his hair and, without thinking, brushed some dirt from his cheek. When he realized what he was doing, he flinched and pulled back.
Hinata rubbed the back of his head, for once without words.
"You win," Kageyama said eventually.
Hinata looked up. "Huh?"
"You jumped the highest," he explained. "That's what we were doing, right?"
"Oh." Hinata pursed his lips. "Right."
Kageyama frowned. "Are you sure that you didn't hit your head?"
"I'm positive."
"It's not like it can take any more damage."
"Shut up!"
Kageyama laughed. It was brash and loud, like a dissonant chord, and it startled the both of them. Kageyama slapped a hand over his mouth as if to shove it back down his throat.
Hinata gawked at him, his eyes wide with terror. "What was that?"
"Shut up." Kageyama dropped his hand in his lap, craning his head away. "It was nothing."
"Oh my god. You laughed."
"I said, shut up."
"And I thought your smile was scary!"
"Shut up, you dumbass!" Kageyama lashed at him, shoving his shoulder. Hinata fell back in a fit, his knees curled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his stomach. His laughter bubbled up easily, accustomed to being used.
"I was just kidding," Hinata gasped. He rolled onto his back, arms flopping to his sides. "It was nice to hear you laugh, even if it sounded like a dying animal."
"I hate you," Kageyama muttered, which was the biggest lie he could ever tell. He collapsed beside him. His energy was being sapped out in gallons, the late hour finally catching up to him. All he wanted to do was lie there and watch the stars.
Hinata rolled his head to the side. "Hey. Kageyama."
"Eh?"
"How did it feel?"
"How did what feel?"
"Jumping," he told him. "Did it feel like flying?"
"How am I supposed to know that?"
"Well," Hinata said, shrugging. "I suppose you can't, but..." His smile diminished, not as if it were fading, but transforming. Its edges were softer, the heat more of a gentle warmth than a searing heat. "When I'm in the air, it's like there was never ground to begin with. My stomach flips, like..." He made a gesture with his hands as if he were shaping dough. "It goes...hollow. Buoyant, maybe. Like I'm suddenly weightless."
Kageyama listened to this. He thought about that one moment when he was hovering over the world, when the tempo...slowed. Time had stopped, and he could see the pores of everything around him. The night hadn't been just black, but every shade of blue and purple, and the light not white, but every color, the way it was supposed to be. It had been a tiny moment of infinity.
"Everything...," Kageyama whispered, as these fuzzy thoughts formed into words. "Everything got really...still."
"Yeah?" Hinata poked him in the side. "Did you like it?"
"I think so."
They watched the sky. It was slowly becoming black, and the darker it became, the more prominent the stars were. Kageyama didn't know anything about astronomy, and he didn't want to; it was beautiful, and for him, that was enough.
"Hinata," he said.
"Yeah?"
"Where's your bike?"
He felt him flinch through the ground underneath him. "What do you mean?" he asked slowly. "I told you guys. It had a flat."
"You were lying."
"How would you know?"
"I can tell."
"You can?"
"Yup."
Hinata huffed. He crossed his arms over his chest, defiant, but he didn't try to deny it, and for that, Kageyama was grateful.
"I left it at home," Hinata admitted. "On purpose."
"Why?"
Hinata didn't answer.
"Hinata?" Kageyama glanced at him, wondering if he hadn't heard. His jaw was clenched tight, and his leg was jiggling restlessly. He couldn't see his face.
"Because..." Hinata sighed and slumped. "I was going to invite you over."
Kageyama frowned. "What?"
"I'm serious."
"That's not it. I just don't understand. What do I have to do with your bike?"
"Because I...!" Hinata smacked his foot on the ground. "It would mean you would've had to ride on it with me."
"Is that a problem?"
"It's illegal."
Kageyama just stared at him.
Hinata ducked his chin, hiding his neck with his shoulders. "And...And I thought it would've embarrassed you."
"Why?"
"Because that's something...something that lovers do."
Heat rushed up to Kageyama's cheeks, and even though neither of them could see a foot in front of their faces, he turned away to hide it. "Oh," he muttered.
"Yeah."
Kageyama scraped the ground with his nails. "Th-that..." He had to dig the words up. They were stuck inside of him like roots in hard soil, and he had to force himself to spit them out. "I wouldn't...I wouldn't have minded that."
Hinata's breathing stopped. Kageyama heard the moment it caught in his throat. "You...you wouldn't have?"
"No."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Kageyama," Hinata said, a tremor in his voice. "What...what are you saying?"
Kageyama was shaking. There was nothing for him to hold on to in order to make it stop. He knew the words he wanted to say—they were flashing neon lights in his mind—but he was at his limit. He couldn't make himself speak anymore.
I can't take this.
He rolled over. Hinata let out a startled cry when their proximity to each other was suddenly obsolete, with Kageyama hovering a few mere inches above.
"K-Kageyama? Wh-what are you...?"
"Shut up," he whispered, and their lips met.
In the springtime, sakura trees flowered and clouded the sky with their lovely, luscious pink petals. Their beauty is innocent, preserved, and most people are so enraptured by them that they're not prepared for when they begin to die. Yet when they do, and when they begin to fall and coat the ground in a field of pink blossoms, they remember that they are just as beautiful.
Kageyama felt like those petals, falling, falling, and the longer he kept his mouth pressed against Hinata's, the more he wondered why he hadn't in the first place. Hinata was making soft noises underneath him, their lips rising and sinking in a slow tandem, his fingers clutching his shoulders to keep him locked in place. Every time his head moved, their cheeks brushed, and his skin was so soft that Kageyama grew bewitched by it and let himself sink further until their bodies were aligned and his hands were cupping his face.
"Hinata...," he breathed. Saying the name sent a thrill through his system. He pushed himself closer. "More."
"Kage...Mm."
He shivered. Hinata's arms slid onto his back before retreating up to his neck, and his palms were hot against his skin. Kageyama felt them burn, his own body temperature rising. Hinata's small body arched up towards him, fingers burrowing into his hair, his lips swollen and red, parting open and letting him in—
Then he froze. Kageyama's slow descent converted into a dive, and he crashed. He blinked his eyes open, and they were close enough for him to see Hinata's staring wide at him, fluttering furiously, their lips still gently knocked together as if they had been dancing and had suddenly forgotten the steps.
Reality returned to Kageyama in the form of a cannonball. He tore himself away.
"Shit!" He slapped a hand over his mouth. "Shit. Shit. Hinata, I—"
Words flopped uselessly inside of his mind. Hinata was still sprawled on the ground, incapacitated.
"S-sorry," Kageyama spat out, dropping his hand. He clenched them at his sides. "I...I wasn't thinking."
Hinata began to sit up. The night was practically opaque, and Kageyama could only see the barest suggestion of him in the moonlight. His stomach rolled around inside of him, and it gained momentum the longer they sat in silence.
"Why are you apologizing?" Hinata demanded.
"Eh?"
"I was kissing you back, you dummy!"
"Because I lost control!" he exclaimed.
"'Lost control'?"
"I—damn it." Kageyama dug his hands into his hair, pulling the roots until they hurt. "You don't get it."
"That's why I'm asking!"
"You...!" Kageyama let out a roar of frustration. "You make me lose my focus! I can't think straight when I'm around you—and I hate it!"
His mind was inside of a tornado. What did I just do? Damn it. Damn it! He clenched himself tighter, curling every joint in his body. I totally lost it. What was I thinking?!
"Do you?" Hinata's voice was loud and clear in the still night. "Is it really such a bad thing?"
"I can't function like that," Kageyama grumbled. "I can't play volleyball that way."
"Really? Because I do, and it works out just fine for me."
"Shut up."
"No, really. You know how I am. Bam! Swoosh! Whiz!"
"Shut up," he pleaded, but he could feel something buoyant rising in his chest. It was making him want to smile.
"Kageyama," Hinata said. He inched closer until Kageyama could feel his presence. "Oi. Kageyama."
"What, you dumbass?"
"Look at me."
"No. Don't want to."
"Kageyama-kun." The u turned into a thousand syllables. "Look. At. Me."
"I can't even see you," he retorted, lifting his head up. "It's so damn dar—"
Hinata swooped in. Kageyama felt his lips collide with his, then push off, like a trampoline. Kageyama was so surprised that he let out all of the breath that he'd been holding in one gust.
He could see Hinata's teeth. They were whiter than the moon. "There," he said matter-of-factly. "Now we're even."
"That," Kageyama said slowly, "was nowhere near close to 'even'."
"Then stop whining, and maybe you'll get more."
"Are you bribing me?"
"Absolutely."
"You..." And now Kageyama did smile. He ducked his head down so that Hinata couldn't sense it, but he was sure that his voice gave him away. "Dumbass."
"But I'm your dumbass."
"And what did I do to deserve that?"
"Kageyama."
Kageyama lifted his head up. Hinata was beaming at him with every tooth that he had, and something about the way he was looking at him made Kageyama realize that it was time to shut up.
The corners of his mouth curled up, just a little bit.
Hinata stood, brushing off his shorts. "Come on," he urged, reaching down for him. "It's getting really late."
Kageyama grabbed his hand, and the shock of his skin against his rippled up his spine, sending his whole body tingling. He didn't let go, and neither did Hinata. Eventually, their fingers discovered the spaces in-between, and they linked them together. Kageyama felt the wings of a thousand butterflies in his stomach.
They collected their things and headed down the sidewalk. Hinata clutched the volleyball to his chest, keeping it still, though his step bounced an extra beat with every one he took. When the glow of the streetlights returned, Kageyama saw the red that brushed him from cheek to cheek, a secret smile on his lips.
"So, Kageyama," he said innocently. "You like me?"
Kageyama choked. "W-what?"
"You like me, right? Isn't that why you kissed me?"
"I..." Kageyama frowned deeply. "Is that what this is?"
"You mean you don't know?!"
"I don't know how to put it into words!"
Hinata laughed. "Wow, you're such an idiot. Okay. Do you feel about me the same as you do about volleyball?"
Kageyama continued to frown, weighing them side by side. He thought about what it felt like to play volleyball: the adrenaline rush, the thunder of his heartbeat, the lightness that filled him with hot air, how just one touch of the ball would vaporize all other thoughts that prodded the edges of his mind. All of these things piled together raised him up; they made him feel infinite.
Infinite. That was a word that he knew how to describe.
"You're not...like volleyball," he said, as the idea took shape. "You're a part of it."
"Huh?"
"I love volleyball. I love it more than anything in the world. You are a part of that. Does...does that make sense?"
Hinata didn't reply. Kageyama looked at him, and his eyes were watching the ground, wide and staring. His face was inflamed.
"O-oh," he stuttered eventually. "Okay. That works."
"Did I say something wrong?"
"Nope," Hinata said, shaking his head rapidly. "Nope. It's nothing."
"Mm."
They continued on. They were approaching the outskirts of town, with shops starting to dot the streets. In a few more blocks they would reach the station, and Kageyama found himself dreading the moment.
"If it means anything," Hinata added, "I...I like you, too."
The inside of Kageyama exploded. He felt queasy and light at the same time, and his chest hurt, but at the same time, he felt like he could walk on clouds.
"Y-yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Ah." Kageyama cleared his throat. "So...so I guess that means we're dating?"
"I guess so."
"Ah. Okay."
There was nothing of him left. He was all air.
"Kageyama," Hinata interjected, tugging on his hand. They came to a stop. Hinata's fingers were crushing him, but he didn't mind, didn't mind at all. "You should come over tomorrow. Like I'd planned."
"Okay."
"To have dinner, I mean."
"I know."
"Okay."
They stared at each other, looking into each other's eyes. Hinata's were so deep and so bottomless that Kageyama felt himself getting lost. He wanted to spend hours staring at them, scrying into their depths.
"Hinata," he said.
"Eh?"
"Bring your bike," he ordered. "To school. Tomorrow."
"Oh," he said. "Okay. I will."
They resumed walking, and it could have been the light from the lamps, but Kageyama could've sworn that the night wasn't as dark as it was before.
"I'm pedaling," Hinata added.
"Like hell, dumbass."
Author's note:
Thank you so much for reading. I promise I'll update soon!