Author's Note: thanks for sticking around so far!

"Last night, on the Bachelorette…"

The clock in the kitchen read 5:27 in unblinking digital numbers, glowing red in an otherwise pitch-black room. Kageyama smothered his second yawn this morning, foregoing his pre-running breakfast for a simple nutrition bar, and pathetically fumbled around in the dark for the trashcan.

The one downside to living in a furnished mansion (other than no AC, only four bathrooms for over twenty men, and no ability to leave, of course) was the unfortunate absence of a gym or any other form of exercise equipment.

Hence why he was dressed in his usual workout clothes: black running pants, orange shorts, and a blue hoodie with white long-sleeves. Despite loudly tripping over his feet and knocking into the edge of tables and the softer arms of couches multiple times, Kageyama successfully made his way to the front door with none the wiser.

After the eight contestants had returned last night, the group discovered the one-on-one date card had been laying unattended on the coffee table for the better part of the afternoon. They had assembled by the couches, the room tense with anticipation. In the end, it was someone Kageyama had barely met: Taketora Yamamoto. He seemed nice enough; when his name was called, his face morphed from serious to shy, and then he was tugging at the hem of his red jumper, mumbling, "Oh no, I hope Kiyoko likes me! What if she thinks I'm scary? I get so nervous around pretty girls, I don't want to mess this up!"

Hinata had been the one to boost him up, like a literal ray of sunshine as he exploded in sincere excitement, "Congratulations! I'm so jealous!"

It was amazing how quickly the mood in the room changed. Hinata's positive energy was obnoxiously infectious. The producers were probably going to hate him by the end of this: it was hard to have a show based on conflict and drama with someone like Hinata around, spouting ideas of friendship and love and rainbows and shit.

Kageyama stared numbly at the ground as he started swinging one leg to the side for the warm up stretches.

Around him, the predawn air was cool and fresh, filled with the sweet perfume of primroses and yellow lilies from the garden in front of the house. As the sky slowly seeped into brushes of faded pink and murky purple strokes from clouds low on the horizon, Kageyama straightened up and started off at a light jog. Since they weren't allowed music or to leave the mansion grounds unless it was for a date, Kageyama made sure to focus on keeping his breathing even as he let himself listen to the birds awaken, the scenery repeating over and over again. By his fifth lap, the sky was vibrantly orange, the clouds now aglow, tinted yellow and off-white.

He was just passing the pool, extra careful to not slip on the tiles as he looped around the edge, when he saw a blur of movement from the corner of his eye. He slowed his pace, curiously looking over his shoulder, and couldn't stop his jaw from dropping. It was this moment of puzzled hesitation that doomed him.

Hinata, his hair fluffy and unbrushed, his white tracksuit dirty and crumpled, zoomed past him, his face the epitome of glee.

Hell no. There was half a second for his brain to catch up with his muscles and then he was speeding after the dancer like a demon from hell, his arms slicing through the air. He didn't know where he was going, but no way was he going to let that idiot beat him, wherever, whenever!

Hinata started shouting when he got close, and Kageyama, not to be outdone, shouted back. They traded challenging stares that would have been awkward had the both of them not been so caught up in beating the other.

Despite his shoulder starting to ache and his breathing getting a bit too labored, Kageyama practically threw himself in front of Hinata, using his longer legs to his advantage as they came to an inelegant stop by the front door. For all his idiocy, the redhead noticed his movements, and attempted to slide into a dive like he was on the baseball team and going for the base.

Tie.

After all that, they had tied.

Hinata flopped his face on the ground and just gasped in loud, sucking breaths. Kageyama, his eyes closed as he breathed in and out way too fast, kept his head down as he sat cross-legged near a rose bush, the smell slightly too overwhelming right now.

"Dumbass!" Kageyama said as soon as he caught enough air in his lungs. When Hinata only blearily raised his head half a centimeter off the ground to glare at him, Kageyama allowed a pleased smirk to curl his lips. At least he was the first one who could talk. Beat that!

"When I said next time," he said, pausing to suck in some air, "I didn't mean we had to race every day!"

Hinata actually giggled, and Kageyama startled at the sound, blinking.

"SHUT UP!" someone shouted, and a head of unkempt brown hair appeared from a second floor window. "IT'S NOT EVEN SEVEN, GO TO SLEEP!"

Hinata crawled over to him, and whisper-shouted, "And we know how much the Great King needs his beauty sleep!"

Kageyama laughed and the window petulantly slammed shut above them, rattling in its frame. They were going to get hell later, Kageyama knew first hand how petty Oikawa-san could be, but as he smiled a wobbly grin and Hinata beamed at him with too much teeth, it seemed totally worth it.

...o0o…

Despite feeling like he was betraying a new friend, Kageyama had to skip the newest episode and stay late for work. While it was mostly going to be about the early one-on-one date with the mohawk-guy (they had gone bungee jumping, it had seemed to go well), there were still confession cameras and hidden cameras and he never knew what the producers were going to show of him, if anything at all. Suga-san generously offered to inform him of all the juicy gossip, which he appreciated, since he was currently bored out of his mind sitting on the last train home.

The latest text from Suga had been about how Hinata called Oikawa the Great King a total of five times on the confession camera, getting way into it as he bounced up and down with never ending energy. They had apparently shown Oikawa flipping his hair and throwing up a cutesy peace sign, uncaring of Hinata's challenge, in his own confession camera take. The actor got all of the good edits, it was so unfair.

While he waited for the next update, he leaned on the side of the window and let his eyes rest. Almost immediately, his phone buzzed in his hand, and he read the first line, confused.

Answer me, Kageyama! (╬ಠ益ಠ)

A bit worried about what Suga meant, he opened the messenger app and then realized with growing concern that it was from the Unknown Number. An unknown person who knew his name. What the hell? He formed three different drafts before settling on a simple: who r u?

Before he could send it, though, Suga's text came through, messy with urgency: YOU GOT A VILLAIN EDIT HOLY SHIT DON'T GO ONLINE!

Oh no. Oh no no no! Kageyama barely remembered what happened during the one-on-one date. He thought he had been settling into a routine at that point: run in the morning, eat breakfast, relax by the pool? Nervously wracking his brain for anything important, he came up blank and then got even more alarmed. What could he possibly have done?

Incoming call: Suga-san.

He almost dropped his phone in his haste, barely managing to raise it to his ear and catch the first part of Suga's shout, "—yama-kun, don't freak out!"

"Too late!" Kageyama yelled back, garnering a few strange looks from a teenage couple sitting across from him. He ducked his head, whispering angrily, "Explain!"

"Okay, so they showed like three clips or voice overs, I don't know, whatever, of you calling the redhead guy a dumbass and then they showed him crying and Noya had to go over and console him and what the hell happened?" he rushed out, sounding like he was pacing back and forth.

Kageyama wanted to do the same. What the hell? He called Hinata a dumbass all the time but never once did the dancer start to cry. Was it real? Or did they edit it to look like he made him cry? What was happening? Kageyama wanted to cry himself, overwhelmed.

"Breathe!" Suga barked harshly, and Kageyama realized he'd been holding his breath. He followed the counselor's directions, carefully, slowly, like his friend had taught him when things got to be too much.

"I don't know," he finally answered, pressing a palm over his eyes as he hunched into himself. "I don't remember making Hinata cry."

"Okay, okay, that's good," Suga was saying, mostly to himself at this point.

"What do I do?" Kageyama asked, gripping his phone like a lifeline. "Will this affect work? Do I need to call someone?"

"I think," his friend said, haltingly, "I think they're setting you up for something. They normally make these dramatic edits when there's something bigger that's going to happen later."

"The zombie shootout," Kageyama realized with horror. Oh no.

There was a new message from the unknown number but Kageyama ignored it. One disaster at a time, thank you very much.

...o0o…

While Yamamoto was off on his one-on-one date with Kiyoko, most of the guys spent the day relaxing by the side of the pool, either sunbathing or dipping their toes in the lukewarm water. It was casual and relaxed, and Kageyama suspected this was what most days were going to be like from now on, since not everyone got a date and there was literally nothing else to do in the house.

A few were playing Uno — Oikawa just cheered way too loudly, proudly throwing down a red plus-four card to the dismay of Tanaka-san, as Noya and Yahaba laughed cruelly at his misfortune — while Terushima drifted idly on the pool surface, rocking his look on a pink unicorn floaty.

"Bakageyama!"

A few contestants looked his way curiously, and Kageyama scowled back at them. He was fully dressed, no swimsuit in sight, with his hoodie pulled over his head as he bundled up on top of a beach towel, an umbrella shading him from the afternoon sun.

"Let's play pool volleyball!" Hinata yelled, dropping in front of him with hair that looked like it was on fire, backlit by the bright sunlight. "I found a net in the storage closet and you had socks with volleyballs on them and Oikawa played volleyball in high school and it sounds like fun so come on!" he paused for a breath, and Kageyama took that time to scooch away from him.

Undeterred, Hinata followed him, tugging at his elbow, but Kageyama was having none of it. He shoved the short dancer off of him, scrunching up his face. Did he want to play volleyball? Yes. He missed the sport like he missed breathing. But to play again after so long and with Oikawa-san of all people? That didn't sound like fun, not with his shoulder still aching from the run this morning and the sneer he could practically already see on his old rival's face.

A ball fell behind him, timed with the thud-thud-thud of his heartbeat. He turned around, but no one was there.

"No! Go away!" Kageyama squawked angrily, quickly getting to his feet. Hinata stared at his back, but grumpily went about the task of gathering other team members that didn't include the frowny physical therapist in training.

Despite telling himself to leave it be, Kageyama found himself staring out the window in his room for the better part of an hour, watching Hinata fail at receiving the ball, watching Hinata successfully receive the ball but with his face instead of his arms, and watching Hinata attempt spiking the ball over the net (paddling around stupidly in the water and barely managing a big enough jump as water splashed chaotically around him) only to get blocked by the taller opponents on the other side of the net.

Kageyama finally turned away, having enough.

When he went down for dinner, he was alone. Usually there were a few contestants munching on snacks or attempting to make food, but this time the kitchen was empty. There weren't even dirty dishes stacked haphazardly in the sink.

A bit concerned, Kageyama abandoned his goal of food for finding at least one other person. They couldn't have all just left - not without telling him.

Luckily, it didn't take long.

"Kageyama! We were just about to go find you!" Tanaka-san cried, pulling him along at a faster pace in the direction of the living room. Since there was really only one reason the group would be gathered all together on those couches, Kageyama immediately felt a spike in anxiety and anticipation.

The group date card. And it was for ten people this time, including Hinata and Kageyama. Kageyama found Hinata's eyes over Noya-san's head. They were in agreement: it was on.

Unlike the previous two dates with Kiyoko, this one took place late in the day; so late, it was practically moonrise, the sun having long since disappeared behind dark nimbus clouds. The night was overcast, but Kageyama didn't even know if they were going to be outside for this date. What was there to do in the evening other than the occasional bar drinks and sleep?

Before leaving in two separate vans, all the men needed to have their mics securely fastened to their casual-but-still-nice clothes in preparation for whatever this group date was. Once the short boom operator pinned his microphone to his black t-shirt, she shuffled back and said brightly, "Good luck out there!"

It felt very ominous, actually. Kageyama hurried away.

As the ten men finished fluffing their hair and smoothing out imagined wrinkles, Kageyama found his way next to Hinata. The other man caught his eye and smiled up encouragingly. Kageyama looked away uncomfortably, pursing his lips and rubbing his hands together.

They filmed for the first ten minutes of the drive, and once the cameras were put away, the group noticeably relaxed. They were allowed to listen to the generic pop music on the driver's playlist, but no radio: they had to be completely cut off from the outside world, even the news.

For this date, Kiyoko was going to meet them there. Everything was so unusual and different than with the other two dates before, Kageyama couldn't help but get more and more nervous as they drove on.

There turned out to be a small room with one long couch facing a television. After the host signed the group in for their slot - doing what Kageyama still didn't know - the men (still without Kiyoko) were shuffled into a waiting room as the screen lit up into a menu. The man working at the counter hit play before they could read the options.

"You lucky eleven have survived the first outbreak of Rotters, dead men and women risen from the grave. Hospitals have fallen, society is breaking down, and the dead litter the streets — only to get back up again, but this time, with a thirst for braaaaains."

Someone snorted and the men around him tittered at the dramatic retelling.

"It is up to you: a team of misfits barely scraping by with old guns and limited ammo, to stop these zombies before they finish off the city. Good luck!"

Without giving them a chance to wrap their minds around the fact that this date was a zombie shootout, they were each given paintball guns and directions on how to use the weapons by one of the workers in a yellow vest before being quickly led to an open area that honestly looked like the end times.

With the fast moving rain clouds above them and a severe lack of adequate lighting — the dim and flickering bulbs were a mild, unhelpful orange — each broken, tumbling shape looked suspicious. A crow cawed in the background, this high-pitched, strangled, shrieking noise that startled everyone into forming a tighter group, walking closer to each other than before (and a few laughed nervously, trying to shake off the spooky mood that had descended over them).

Then, like it was timed, the moon emerged briefly - offering less than a second of light - and Kageyama saw a flash of something hunching down on top of one of the rafters of a broken, falling apart shed. He blinked and it was gone, not even the shadow of a figure left. The wind ruffled his hair, whistling around them, scraping broken metal against metal, and beyond the normal sounds of wildlife and shifting gravel, something groaned in the distance - eerily inhuman and scarily alive, even if you took into consideration the quality of man-made sound effects these days.

There was a brush of pressure behind him, tugging at the back of his shirt, and Kageyama freaked out, flailing his arms and stumbling over his own two feet to move, move, move. A few guys looked down their nose at him once he caught himself a good distance away, but Kageyama only had eyes for the man behind him.

Hinata looked downright green, his hands uselessly clenching and unclenching in front of him as his paintball gun rested on the ground near his ankle, abandoned. It was a pathetic sight.

"You're not going to vomit, are you?" one of the guys asked carelessly, ducking down to peer into the dancer's eyes. "It's not real, you know?"

"N-no! I know that!" Hinata tried to yell, but his voice cracked and it ended in something closer to a whimper.

One of the shorter guys tried to stifle his laugh, and Kageyama frowned darkly at him, turning his focus immediately back to Hinata and missing the way the guy fumbled back a few steps.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, dumbass!" he shouted a bit too loudly and winced. His own nerves were still very on-edge, too. "If anything gets close to you, shoot it!"

"As long as it's not one of us," someone hurriedly interjected.

Kageyama nodded in agreement, changing his orders to: "If it's ugly, kill it."

"O-oh?" Hinata said, bending down to pick up his paintball gun. He held it in his hands, still looking unsure, and then looked up to meet Kageyama's too-blue eyes. "So, so does that mean I can shoot you?" He attempted a cheeky smile, and half-way succeeded, eyes only for Kageyama as they stared at each other. Kageyama, his fear momentarily forgotten, reached out a hand and squeezed Hinata's head, glaring at him and ignoring the yelping "ow ow ow's." But then he remembered where he was, the metal creaking and moaning around them in a ghostly murmur, and let go very quickly.

Who thought this would be a romantic soundtrack for their group date?

And it was with that thought that the leading lady entered the stage. Her glasses glinted silver in the light, and a murder of crows cackled around them, taking flight in a sea of black feathers. Kageyama and Hinata turned to stare in awe at the cinematic entrance.

Kiyoko was wearing a loose button-up shirt and a ruffled knee-length skirt, her paintball gun leisurely hiked up against her hips like it was meant to be there. "We ready to fight some zombies, boys?" she asked, her face battle-ready and focused. "Let's take back our city!" she shouted (actually shouted, which was an amazing development) and marched forward, leading them like a general would march into battle.

A set of cameras tracked them, but Kageyama barely paid them any mind, instead trying very, very hard to not squeal in horror and shoot at anything that moved in the darkness. A light drizzle had started after they had successfully killed three zombies idling near and on top of an abandoned bus, but the rain did little other than get the group slightly wet. It wasn't like the environment could get any scarier, in his humble opinion.

Kageyama stayed in the back of the group, letting Hinata stick to his side like a leech; he politely ignored the times when a zombie would jump out, Kiyoko would shoot it perfectly in the chest, and the dancer would tug a bit more tightly on the end of his shirt. His own senses were on fire, sensitive to any misstep or crunch of gravel around them, and if he curled a bit more protectively around Hinata, who's to say.

One essential fact to note, though, was that they had limited ammunition. It was important to be careful and strategic or they'd run out of paintballs and not be able to defend themselves. Which is why, when a zombie warbled loudly behind them - therefore, closest to Kageyama and Hinata and farthest from their greatest weapon, Kiyoko - it was especially bad that Hinata's first reaction, other than outright fear, was to go on a wild shooting spree with his eyes closed.

"Hinata!" Kageyama shouted, but it was drowned out over the redhead's own deafening, "AHHHHHH HELP MEEE! I'M GONNA DIE!"

Kageyama grappled for the other man's gun, getting into a frantic tug-of-war that was harder than he thought it would be. Hinata, running on pure adrenaline at this point, was surprisingly strong.

"LET GO!" he shouted, giving his all in one harsh pull, and he felt the gun successfully leave the dancer's hands. He had half a second to feel proud before there was wind behind his back and he was falling in a heap on the rough gravel. His palms stung, but what was worse was that both their guns were scattered around them and a zombie was less than a foot away, the white of its eyes shining bright against the dark drizzle, and it was utterly terrifying.

HELP ME I'M GONNA DIE, his mind shrieked, subconsciously mimicking Hinata as he scrambled backwards in a panic, kicking up loose dirt and rocks. Hinata tugged at his shoulder, yelling senselessly, and Kageyama wasted no time in grabbing his hand for a lift up. Luckily, Kiyoko was not one to sit idly by while her soldiers were killed one by one (unlike the other gormless men, who just stared at the scene with their mouths open) and she threw out a hand, aimed, and fired.

Down went two zombies, one after the other.

Kageyama hadn't even seen the second one. His heart hammered against his chest, fluttering like a caged bird. His hands ached, and his breathing was still gasping and uneven. Hinata immediately squished himself to his side once it was deemed safe and zombie-free, his eyes too big and wide.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, so quiet Kageyama might have thought he'd imagined it if not for the honest regret he saw on the other man's face.

He released a slow breath, trying to calm himself. His heart rate didn't slow down, if anything it got worse. "Let's just get our guns, dumbass," he heard himself mutter, but it sounded far away and muted, like he was underwater and watching someone else control his body.

They collected their weapons and after a lot of teasing from the other men in the group (and an amused half-smile from the leading lady herself), the journey continued onward.

By this point, over half of the team were low on ammo (Hinata was close to nothing after that wasteful exercise) and they still had to make their way through a maze-like setting to get back to where they had started. It wasn't a real maze, but the clay walls were tall and winding, making it easy to get lost if they didn't stick with the group.

Kageyama made sure he stuck with the group, which in turn ensured Hinata stuck with the group.

There were a few jump scares behind them again, but this time, they were better prepared. Hinata would cower behind Kageyama, and Kageyama would be the one to shoot the zombie, with his eyes actually open. He had very good aim, honed from years of experience with volleyball, believe it or not, and had a lot of ammo to spare. To his surprise, the creepy background noises and wailing of the undead got less scary with Hinata's warm presence flush against his back, his hair tickling his neck as the smaller man breathed out nervous but encouraging words: "kill it, kill it, kill it, Kageyama! AHHHH, LEFT, LEFT, oh nice kill! WAIT THERE'S MORE AH KILL IT OH MY GOD!"

"Shut up!" he yelled, his face hot and pink. He heard a few men snicker.

They turned a corner and a rotting zombie garbled, decaying hands reaching out for them. One of the men, a short man with glasses and thick eyebrows, shot it with an orange paintball. Kiyoko continued ahead, and maybe that's why the other contestant thought he could get away with his mean-spirited jab.

"That's how you kill a zombie," he said lightly. "Try to not be so useless."

If they were friends, it wouldn't be so bad. It would be friendly ribbing, harmless and teasing. But with the way Hinata's face closed off, his orange curls covering his eyes as he ducked his head, Kageyama didn't think they even knew each other's names.

It was mean. Kageyama frowned, and the man smirked down at Hinata and then up at Kageyama. And before he knew it, Kageyama very purposefully, very aware of the effect it had on other people, smiled with all his teeth like he was actually out here enjoying himself (he kinda was, to be honest).

It had the intended effect, and the man jumped, desperately backpedaling. "It-it was a joke!" he threw out, in this moment assuredly afraid of something that definitely wasn't fake zombies, "I was kidding."

"Apologize to Hinata," Kageyama ordered, crossing his arms over his chest and staring the other man down.

"I'm sorry, Hinata!" the guy squealed and didn't even wait for the dancer to respond, quickly hurrying back to the group and away from Kageyama's serial killer grin.

When Hinata looked up, his eyes were bright and glossy, but he thankfully didn't see any tear tracks.

"I take it back," Hinata said softly, staring into the taller man's eyes before looking ahead as they started to walk, "I think your smile is beautiful."

It was the nicest 'thank you' Kageyama had ever gotten in his life. He smiled without even thinking about it, but this one didn't look like a murderer. It was soft at the edges, warm and kind and full of something that might have been the start of affection.

...o0o…

Kageyama clicked on the YouTube link with growing trepidation. Suga had told him to stay off the internet, but he had to see what he'd missed. He wasn't going to read the comments, obviously, but he needed to see the edit with his own eyes, match the moments to his own memories.

It was just as Suga had told him. There were clips and voice overs of him calling Hinata a dumbass. It was a mesh of different moments, but definitely Kageyama's voice. The scene with Hinata crying, though? That was new to him; Hinata was even wearing a shirt he didn't think he'd seen before: a blue hoodie that only said MEAT in curly white font. Maybe it was from a different time; perhaps they pulled from a future moment to get more dramatic emotions for the story the production crew wanted to tell. He wanted to believe that rather than the potential fact that he made the small, happy dancer cry. His stomach twisted uncomfortably at the mere thought.

As the video continued, Kageyama found himself leaning forward in interest. Suga hadn't told him what had happened in the zombie shootout part of the episode, instead pulling him away from his phone so they could play a game of cards. Daichi and even Asahi joined them later, bringing a tub of vanilla ice cream as a peace offering.

The episode was just as bad as he'd thought.

"And then, the next thing I see is Kageyama grabbing Hinata's gun away from him just as a zombie comes out." The man says, pushing at his glasses. "I mean, I get that he's competitive, but that was just cruel. Poor Hinata, he totally freaked out. Good thing Kiyoko put a stop to it immediately."

Screw Oikawa, Kageyama thought vehemently, this guy was the real villain of the show.

"That was really frightening!" Hinata told the cameras, his eyes bright against the smoky background behind him. "Kageyama was totally," the scene cut out to view the apocalyptic setting, Kageyama smiling like a deranged maniac as the camera wobbled, "scary."

Instead of freaking out, Kageyama frowned thoughtfully, leaning back and rewinding ten seconds. It.. almost looked like Hinata was going to say something else.

Well. Whatever. This was all behind him. As long as it didn't interfere with his life right now, he refused to let it bother him.

Instead, he tried to remember Hinata's smile. The good moments.

His phone lit up again, this time for a call. He muted it without looking at the ID and flopped gracelessly on his bed. He'd deal with everything tomorrow. Right now, he'd just come back from a long day of work, and sleep was calling out to him.

.

tbc

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Author's Note: What the heck, I've never had a story be this fun or easy to write before. I hope y'all are enjoying it so far! Thanks for reading!