Chapter Six
He wasn't sure which was heavier, the paper folded in his hand or the weight of losing, losing to The Grand King. We lost to The Grand King. His heart didn't beat with BeatOikawa-BeatOikawa, he wasn't sure it was beating at all. He doesn't remember getting on the bus, doesn't remember the bitter-sweet speech that Coach Ukai or Daichi no doubt preached to them. He played it off to the summer heat getting to him, Kageyama, despite all of his social-ineptness, saw right through that and stared at him as they walked home that night. Hinata was grateful, for once, that Kageyama was terrible with words; there was nothing he wanted to hear, from him, or from anybody.
He's pretty sure the worst part was the confidence that he had spiked with, putting the last of his strength into pulling The Grand King from his throne. Definitely the worst part. The paper, he can get rid of, throw it away, rip it up, set it on fire. He could even eat it if he wanted to. He doesn't want to.
It's a heavy weight in the pocket of his uniform, can feel it physically weighing him down as he walks to the vending machine. He's not hungry, but it's a way to get away from the looks of his classmates. Their stares make everything that much heavier, like gravity is increasing with each set of eyes on him. He stares at the vending machine for five minutes before he realizes he didn't bring any money with him, he sighs, it's as close to a scream as it can get without getting detention, and settles beside it. It's warm despite its cool contents, he wonders how much milk is in there, wonders if The Grand King is more of a green tea or strawberry milk guy. Wonders why he cares. The Grand King beat you, that's why, a voice answers. He ignores it.
Kageyama shows up before lunch is over, stares at the machine in front of him for too long, if he hadn't seen Kageyama choose a drink before he'd wonder if the setter was checking up on him. "Hinata,"Please do not choose now to be good with words, "Lunch is over."
"I'm coming, just go on ahead." He says it quietly, wonders if Kageyama heard him, but when he looks up the setter is gone. He doesn't follow. Grand King beat you, the voice he has heard before, hissing like a snake, spewing venom into his ears. He tries to ignore it, really does, until it sounds too much like The Grand King. Beat you, Chibi-Chan, beat you Chibi-chan. It sounds like singing but he flinches like it'd been screamed into his eardrums.
"Kenma i think im dying" The text is out before he realizes his phone is in his hand, when it vibrates with a returned message he squeezes the plastic in his fist, but it doesn't crack, only cuts into the sides of his palms with sharp edges.
"Unlikely, what's wrong. Aren't you in class" He hadn't told his own mother about losing to The Grand King, let alone Kenma.
"I dunno i feel sick" He sighs, Kenma despite his analytical cat-like gaze, wasn't much help on matters outside of games.
"You'll beat him next time." The proper grammar makes him wonder if Kenma actually believes it, the voice tells him that he doesn't, he believes otherwise, Kenma is his rival, it's his job to motivate him to be his best, always.
"Its break starting tomorrow want to come over" If anyone could cheer him up, it'd be his Rival, Kageyama was too bad with words to say the right thing, and his poor control over his emotions make him difficult to practice with.
"Do you have apple pie?" Not exactly the answer he was expecting, at all. His mother had a recipe book for such treats, he could probably do it, do anything to get over this.
"Ill make one" He wants to add, it'll probably be bad, but doesn't. He needs his rival now, not sure he can even last until Friday without him, even if it's not to help him improve.
"It's a three hour train ride. Better be good." He doesn't respond. He opens and closes his phone to kill the silence that rings in his ears, it pushes The Grand King's voice from his head. He sighs, checks the time. He's missed the rest of English, and part of Classic Japanese Literature. He doesn't move.
Kageyama doesn't keep his silence when they walk into the gym, he's bombarded with annoying questions, first from Kageyama then from Suga-san. All of them ask the same thing, are you okay? just worded differently. He's annoyed, really annoyed, with Suga-san for the first time. It must show on his face, or maybe not getting answers was getting too awkward. Suga-san pats his head as he walks away, Hinata flinches. Daddy issues maybe?
His spikes are off, but nobody says anything, they just wonder around. Coach Ukai screams at them, Last practice of the school year, don't waste it! Kageyama is grumbling, it sounds like nothing but noise when Hinata gets close. Suga-san is moping, not out loud, but his eyes are shiny. Just guilty. He realizes that he shouldn't have to feel guilty, he should be apologizing for butting in. Noya-senpai's not smiling when they look at each other, a ball passing between them. Maybe I overreacted. He doesn't want to apologize. It'd just make it worse, he'd just ask more questions. The ball smacks the crook of his elbows, flies left, onto the floor. Hinata growls, but runs to retrieve it. You lose, you get it. It's Kageyama's voice in his head, and he's never been more grateful to hear that bitter lemon voice. He wonders if his thoughts will smell like strawberry milk now.
Unlikely. The ball is in his hands and when he turns around there's a jersey in his nose. Number Two. He swallows, tries to find the right words, I'm sorry, doesn't seem to cut it. Says it anyway. Suga-san says nothing, Hinata wonders when they traded these roles. "I-" he swallows again, "You were just worried. I shouldn't have gotten mad." He didn't really get mad, didn't really do anything. Just passively-aggressively ignored his senpai and his questions. Suga-san is smiling when he looks up at him again, it's a sad smile, his eyebrows are crooked but he doesn't know what that means. "It's fine, Hinata." Suga-san's throat shifts, Adam's apple going up and down, then again. Hinata watches instead of looking into his senpai's too-sad eyes. "You just wanted wanted to beat Oikawa-san. We all did." Hinata nods, If you wanted to win, we should have. It's a bitter, bitter voice. His bitter, bitter voice. He swallows. "We'll get him, next time." He tries to smile, but can't look into his senpai's eyes.
"Right." Is all Suga-san says, then the shadow of his body is no longer looming over him, it feels worse than when it had been there. He makes to toss the ball back to Noya-senpai, but he's nowhere to be seen. Nobody is. Except Kageyama, who's staring at him, his expression sour. How long has it been. It feels like seconds, it feels like days. Definitely somewhere in between, obviously.
He moves forward, passes the ball at Kageyama. He catches it, stares at it. It has the same pattern as the one in their game. The game where The Grand King beat us. Hinata swallows, it must have been loud enough for Kageyama to hear, since he looks up. Their eyes meet and Hinata can't find that fire in his setter's eyes. He looks away long enough for the ball to hit him in the face. He glares at Kageyama, and the setter is smirking. Leave it to Kageyama to crack a smile right after losing to his old senpai. He wonders how Kageyama does it.
Hinata picks up the ball from the floor, spikes it at Kageyama, he sweeps back, catches it quickly. Kageyama spikes it at him, hard, his arms wilt under the impact. "Your back is too high." Kageyama's lips are squirming like he wants to say something else, but doesn't, there's another ball in his hands. Kageyama spikes that too, "The finals should be over soon, huh?" It's him that speaking, a way to change the topic off of his own failure. Kageyama just hums in agreement, the ball in his hands spinning. Hinata flinches at the sight.
He catches the next ball instead of reflecting it, squeezes it in between his hands. Wanting to release this, but he can't. He's not strong enough. Not good enough. Your height? The Grand King is back, sounding twice as malicious as he did the day before. Demon King. His head is pounding, his gut is squirming again, then it's gone. It's all released, draining out of him, white noise filtering into his ears.
It's not white noise, not even static. It's louder than that. Deeper than that. It's me. He's making the noise, his heart is pounding in his chest and he's screaming. His voice is cracking and he's not sure how long he's been screaming or where he is. Prone to loud outbursts due to low confidence. He screams louder, his voice interrupting with sobs that interrupt the pent up rage. His body is shaking, his vision is blurry, and his throat is throbbing when he comes to.
He's on the balcony, wonders how he got up here. The glossy black banner is hanging over the banister, rippling in the breeze from the gym doors. Fly. He hates that word. Hates it more than The Grand King, more than he could ever hate Kageyama, more than himself for losing to both of them.
Kageyama is talking, the same words he had hissed out when they first met, "Only the strong stay on the court." It sounds like a promise, and like a death sentence. "You should stop screaming, if you want to win." It's not Kageyama who's speaking, he turns around. It's Kiyoko-senpai, he wonders if she learned that face from Suga-san. "I could hear you from the club room." Her face is flat, impassive, but there are tears in her eyes that give her away. She's doesn't play, but she wants to win. She leaves after that.
He looks at that aftermath of his outburst, there's balls all over the floor, Kageyama is upside down, still muttering about The Grand King. They clean up quietly, only acceptance, or something close to it, between them. The lights are off and the gym is locked behind them. "Kageyama," It's the first time he's said the setters name since yesterday, it tastes bitter, like lemons, coming from his mouth. "Next time. We'll win." He can feel it burning under his skin, "We'll be stronger than The Grand King, and all of Aoba Johsai, next time."
"Next time." The setter isn't looking at him as they walk home, Kageyama turns right, unlike the last time this silence was surrounding them. Hinata turns left, and bikes home. He has apple pie recipes to look through.