August 17th, 2021
Hinata didn't really have a set schedule for anything outside of volleyball. He called his family whenever he missed them, hung out with his teammates and friends whenever he was bored, and ate food behind the coaches' backs whenever he was hungry.
And whenever he was allowed to go back home to Miyagi—
He would come here.
He dusted Kageyama's gravestone with his hat, thinking of the men who had appeared here the other day. Former teammates, they had described themselves as. Hinata had never been quick to anger, but everything about them—from their indignant tones and puzzled expressions and defensive body language—had incensed him.
After he was done cleaning the headstone, he sat down in the grass and poured himself—and Kageyama—their usual drink. It was the only time he really consumed any alcohol—he was usually the designated driver during outings.
"Another year has passed," Hinata remarked, chest heavy. In hindsight, it made no sense—Kageyama had passed away in May, not August—but there was no one here to judge him for it. He felt old. "Did you know Koji got engaged over the weekend? And Tanaka and Kiyoko are expecting their first child." He swirled his drink in the saucer. Kageyama had never known any of them. I would've liked to grow old with you.
He poured himself some more, Kageyama's saucer still untouched until the next time Hinata came around to replace it.
"To be honest, I didn't know enough about you, even though I considered you one of my closest friends back then." The bottle trembled. "That's why... I wish I could've noticed how deep your pain was."
Hinata wiped away a stray tear. He didn't want to cry. It had been too long since he had lost Kageyama—he didn't want to cry.
Instead, to chase the prickle behind his eyes away, he continued to update Kageyama on his life. It was mostly the same, but he was surrounded by lots of interesting people. Some of his teammates from MSBY had even played in the Tokyo Olympics this year—Bokuto Koutarou and Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi—even if Hinata himself hadn't made the cut.
"Shouyou..."
Hinata glanced over his shoulder, grinning when he saw his younger sister, Natsu, approaching him. "Sorry! Did I take too long?"
At just seventeen years old, Natsu was making him proud just by existing. She was a third year in high school and played for Niiyama Girls' as a wing spiker. Currently, the corner of her lip turned upward in faint amusement. "No, you're good, bro. Mom just texted me—she's asking what you want for lunch."
"Ooh, hmm..." Hinata thought long and hard. "Should I get rice... No, noodles..."
Natsu rolled her eyes. "Just pick one so I can tell her."
"Rice, then!"
"So predictable. I'll be in the car."
Natsu didn't rush him. She never rushed him. It was just one of the many reasons why he loved and adored his baby sister. She was kind. Hinata reached up to underline Kageyama's name with a finger. There was no dust on his skin when he took a look—he really had done a good job with cleaning. He hoped that Natsu would never stop being kind. Because, sometimes, it was all that someone needed.
"Ah... excuse me..."
He turned again. "You!"
Kunimi didn't know why he had opted to tag along again, or why Oikawa was so hung up about this. Kindaichi was one thing—he was sensitive as hell, and Kunimi didn't mean this in a mean way; he just was—but Oikawa? Confident, cocky Oikawa who had it all? And, Argentina aside, wherever Oikawa went, Iwaizumi went, too. He walked a few paces behind Iwaizumi and Oikawa, bumping shoulders occasionally with Kindaichi, who was going to turn the inside of his cheek into a bloody mess if he kept chewing it like that.
Maybe I should turn back.
But it was too late for that.
They'd already arrived at the memorial park, Oikawa stopping his car beside a red SUV. It was like a repeat of the other day, and Kunimi wasn't sure if he hated it or not. It was no secret he lived life halfheartedly—power emotions like hate rarely wormed themselves into his heart.
There was a girl—perhaps in her late teens or early twenties—making her way down the footpath, texting somebody on her phone. Kunimi blinked. She had fiery orange hair that glowed like fire underneath the sun.
She looked just like him. The man who had chased them away the other day, protecting Kageyama's grave like a rabid guard dog.
The girl walked past them without even looking up.
Kunimi stared ahead, dread filling him.
If she was here, then that likely meant—
"Oh, shit," Oikawa swore softly, coming to a halt as the line of grave markers—one of which was Kageyama's—came into view. "He's here."
"That's it," Kunimi said, spinning on his heel. "I'll wait in the car."
"What?" Kindaichi gaped at him. "Why?"
"You should come," Iwaizumi encouraged.
"I have a headache." It wasn't a complete lie. Dealing with the shrimp would definitely cause him a headache. He didn't know why, but the shorty's words were like a dagger to his half-a-heart.
"I'll come with you," Kindaichi offered. "I saw a pharmacy down the road, so we can pick up some medicine there."
"Fine."
Iwaizumi looked between Oikawa and Kindaichi and Kunimi, evidently torn. "I have a friend who works at that pharmacy," he said, slowly. "I'll go with them so they can get a discount, and then come back."
Oikawa gave them a long look. "Okay," he said eventually, tone void of any inflection. "I'll go ahead."
As Kindaichi and Iwaizumi flanked him, Kunimi didn't look back.
Coward.
Oikawa gazed after them, staring straight at Kunimi's retreating back. He thought the word with such venom that it scared him. After all, Kunimi had been his underclassman in both middle and high school, and Oikawa himself had shaped his character during his key developmental years.
He buried his face into his hands, sighing.
What are we doing?
What am I doing?
Reluctantly, he approached Hinata from behind, making sure to announce his presence by crunching the dewy grass beneath his sneakers. But Hinata didn't show any sign of ever hearing, fixated on dragging his finger across Kageyama's tombstone. "Ah... excuse me..."
Hinata jolted, whipping around and spilling sake all over the floor. "You!"
"Yep," Oikawa said. "It's me. I told you I'd be back, didn't I?"
"Go away."
"No. You know how far away my house is from here? I didn't drive an hour for nothing." Okay, it had been an hour at best, but still. Hinata didn't know that. "I'm... I'm curious, though. Hinata-san, why do you hate us?"
"I don't hate you," Hinata corrected, though it didn't change much of Oikawa's mind. "I just really, really dislike you and don't think that you should go anywhere near Kageyama."
Again, Oikawa asked, "Why?"
"Because...!" Hinata's brow furrowed into a glare. "I just don't see any reason why you're coming here!"
"Kageyama... He was my underclassman. And my teammate. All of us—we were all his teammates."
"Oikawa-san, I'm starting to think you don't know what teammates are."
That took him aback. "What do you mean?"
"Teammates are people you can rely on," Hinata said, surprisingly earnest in his declaration. "Teammates are people you can trust, people that you can count on to have your back on the court and off it, too. Teammates are people you hang out with, have drinks with, and sing bad karaoke with. Teammates are people who give you their homework to copy when you didn't do it, and people who nag you for a snack in return for their homework."
"I know that," Oikawa said, defensively. Of course he knew what was a teammate was, for god's sake. He had been playing volleyball—a team sport—for all his life. Though it wasn't the way he would define the word, nothing Hinata said had been incorrect. All of those things did encapsulate what being a teammate meant. Ideally, anyway. "I know what a teammate is—"
"Then why are you calling Kageyama your teammate?"
"Because that's what he was! He played for Kitagawa, therefore he was a teammate!"
Such a simple concept—why didn't Hinata understand?"
Hinata raised a brow. "So... he was just a guy you happened to play with."
"That's..." It was a simplification, but Oikawa couldn't find it in himself to refute his words. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not fair. You can't expect teammates to all be like that. Not all of us are buddy-buddy."
"That wasn't what he needed."
"What?"
"He didn't need you to be buddy-buddy with him, he just needed to feel like he was part of the team."
The words were like a maliciously forged knife into the gut. Oikawa's temper flared. "You don't know what it was like, so stop talking like you were actually there! The team... It had lots of problems, and I have to admit that Kageyama was one of them."
"One of them?" Hinata's voice was thunderous. "Kageyama was a problem to you? Is that all he was?"
"That wasn't what I meant!"
"Then what the hell did you mean, huh?! Weren't you boasting about being his upperclassman just a few minutes ago?"
Years of feeling inferior to an eleven-year-old. Working his body until it broke. Countless knee surgeries he had stopped keeping track of. All of it seemed so far away, yet still so personal. Oikawa gritted his teeth. "You don't understand!"
"You're right!" Hinata yelled. "I don't understand. What would it have cost you? Your pride? Your time? All he needed was someone to be there for him."
"Hinata-san—"
"What about now?" Hinata pressed, his brow lowering as his frustration increased. "Why do you suddenly care so much when he's already dead?!"
A cold wind swept through the clearing.
Footfall sounded.
Iwaizumi, Kindaichi, and Kunimi had returned, and from how pale they looked, Oikawa knew that they had heard the final parts of their argument. Maybe if things were different, he could have used numbers to intimidate Hinata into backing down and apologizing. But this wasn't that kind of scenario, where strength and skill and the amount of people you had on your side could decide a win or loss.
"Hey," Kindaichi suddenly said, shakily. "You're really going too far."
"Shut up." Hinata pointed at them, vicious accusation brimming in his eyes. "You guys don't deserve to be here, trying to get closure for yourselves like the selfish bastards you are! I bet that's all you've been doing ever since you found out he was dead—telling yourselves that it isn't your fault and trying to believe it for the sake of your sanity." He softened ever so slightly before the lines of his body tightened once more. "Stop using Kageyama for your own peace of mind. Wasn't the first time already enough?" Hinata shook his head. "You're just a bunch of immature adults that never grew up. And I pity you for that."
With that, Hinata picked up his bag and left, striding back to the parking lot with purpose.
"The nerve of that guy," Kunimi said, angrily. "He's so fucking presumptuous."
Oikawa tossed him a look, wondering what had come over the typically apathetic Kunimi to make him react like this.
"Does he know?" Kindaichi, all of a sudden, blurted out. "What happened?"
"What?" Iwaizumi was puzzled. "What do you mean? What happened?"
"Ah, you and Oikawa-san already graduated, but..." Kindaichi trailed off, the blood draining from his cheeks. "I... That was so long ago. Kageyama killed himself in 2018. Surely we're not..."
"Not what? Oikawa, do you know anything about this? You don't, right?"
Oikawa didn't say anything. He glanced at Kageyama's grave. Right. Because Kageyama was dead. Kageyama had killed himself. Killed himself.
Killed himself.
"You're just a bunch of immature adults that never grew up. And I pity you for that."
You pity us?
Hinata Shouyou pitied them?
"Fuck!" he screamed, startling everyone else. How much did Hinata know? How much did he know? "It was just supposed to be teasing!" Oikawa covered his eyes. "So why did he make it sound like it was all our fucking fault?!"
Deep down, Oikawa knew the answer.
