Today was just like any other day in Torono Town-brilliantly sunny and a wonderful 23 degrees Celsius; a hint of a heat wave was riding the gentle breeze through an open window, but the chirping of birds and the smell of omelettes and toast kept it far out of anyone's mind. And to top it all off, it was a Sunday morning. A whole day ahead of the common student with no school and no extra activities; beautiful sleep and homemade breakfast devoured the minds of students everywhere, who checked their phones drowsily or wondered about their friends over a bowl of rice. Such a pair of carefree students were living this Sunday high life in the late hours of the morning.

"Kageyama, pass the jam," mumbled Hinata Shouyou, Karasuno's ultimate decoy, the Flying Crow, the team's one-in-a-million chance, drooling over a piece of toast in his friend and rival's bedroom in a large jersey and silly patterned briefs. What enemy school would've believed that perhaps their greatest challenge was a small schoolboy lazying about? Every one of them.

"There's already enough jam on it," Kageyama Tobio responded rather grumpily, but conceded anyway. It was too early to argue with a feisty boy about putting jam on a slice of toast that already had jam sliding off the sides. Besides, Kageyama hated to keep his mouth empty enough to speak when breakfast was sitting right in front of him.

"Never enough jam..." Hinata muttered under his breath as he grasped the jar, mouth full of bread and, well, jam.

Kageyama spoke around his own mouthful of food, "don't you dare get anything on my jersey, or I'll fucking kill you."

"I won't," Hinata scowled back at his friend. "I know how precious these jerseys are. I'd never ruin them."

They regarded each other carefully over their breakfast, each chewing a different food with a different thought and a different flavor.

Kageyama was wondering if Hinata could tell he was flustered, after all, he was speaking more than he usually did for a morning, but he couldn't quite stop himself from saying nothing. He needed to fill up the silence before he could feel his own delight floating in on the spring breeze at the fact that it was his volleyball jersey Hinata was wearing in Kageyama's house in his own bedroom. Certainly that was something he shouldn't be particularly happy about, but he was; quite so.

Hinata was thinking that maybe saying he was wearing Kageyama's jersey for good luck in next game's match was a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn't have told him that if they both wear it at different times, then during the match, both of their ideas and spirit held inside the same shirt would make it so Kageyama would never miss a set and Hinata would never fail a hit; which was just dumb. But somehow he swung it.

In Kageyama's mind, Hinata looked smaller in this jersey compared to his usual one, though there wasn't that large of a size difference, he was sure of it. So maybe it was the fact that Kageyama knew Hinata's reasoning was total bullshit and that made the other boy that much cuter. Maybe somewhere in Kageyama's subconscious, he'd thought vaguely that Hinata might just want to wear his friend's jersey, and that made Kageyama smile inwardly, all the while dismissing the idea entirely.

Hinata was curious as to why Kageyama was so open to the idea of sharing his jersey. Perhaps it was the weekend relaxing the uptight boy or the sweet wind coming from the window or the sleepy, informal feeling of eating breakfast on Kageyama's bedroom floor. Surely he hadn't believed what Hinata told him? But if that was the case, should Hinata be pleased? Hinata was happily wearing a jersey that didn't belong to him, and the other had yet to notice his gleefulness. But maybe what was best about this was being able to entertain the idea that Kageyama knew exactly what was going on but let Hinata wear his shirt anyway because Kageyama wanted him to. Of course, that was highly unlikely, but Hinata was safe to let the tiny idea dance around for a little while longer.

The pair chewed their breakfast thoughtfully, eyes wandering around anywhere but at each other, until they did look at each other, quite by accident; and exactly at the same time.

Broodingly, Kageyama said, "I want the jam back."