Chapter Text
Hinata's made a decision, and he sure as hell's gonna follow through.
He's bouncing through the halls now, dodging past girls in short shorts and guys spreading fliers in the narrow space. The club application papers crunch in his grip, all crumpled and gray with eraser marks rubbed in. At first, he didn't realize when he stumbled into the recreational office of the university, head in a haze and slipping in so stealthily like a ninja. When he hastily grabbed at the prim sheets of paper and rushed out the door. Before he knows it, he's scribbling down his name and stamping his mark along with a signature.
Chickens aren't the only ones capable of chicken scratch, it seems.
There's a strange tightening in his stomach, heartbeat as erratic and loud as a jackhammer. Once he hands this in, there's no turning back. He'd join the volleyball team. Hinata understands the reasons for him doing this, is reminded each time his eyes scan over the hastily filled forms. It's partly because of Kageyama, what he said to him before, that if Hinata truly loved volleyball then he shouldn't give it up.
And he sure does love the sport. Once back from the date, Hinata hardly wastes time pulling out the new sneakers and admiring them, just seconds after locking the front door. They were a different color, striped orange and purple instead of green, since the store didn't have his size. Though the model is as sleek and durable as ever.
But there's another part to the equation, the dark and anxious reflection of himself, who's doing it just to see if the oblivious Grumpy would recognize him. Hinata doesn't like to admit it, but a piece of him wants Kageyama to realize who Erika truly is, behind all the makeup and frills. Wants to get rid of all the guilt he's been holding for keeping this ridiculous, dark secret. Then maybe, just maybe, fate would smile down on him and Kageyama would accept Hinata with open arms, even if he's obviously male and has been deceiving him since day one.
Yeah, right.
(He can't rule out the fact that he might be doing this just to spend more time with the grouchy boy. As himself and not some made up fictional character.)
When he gets to the gym to hand in the forms, he's stared down by Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, the former who smirks and shakes his head.
"Took you long enough," says the blond.
"S-shut up. I needed to make sure," Hinata angles his neck up, caramel orbs locking with glasses.
"Make sure of what?"
"That I have enough time." He turns to Yamaguchi, answering his question. "And money."
"Hey hey everyone get dressed already." A bleach blond man, presumably the coach, walks up to the freshmen trio. Sizes up the ginger. "Ah, new recruit?"
"M-my name is Hinata Shouyou! I want to play volleyball!" The man blinks, then breaks into a hearty laugh.
"The name's Ukai, the main coach of this team. You know you're pretty late for a tryout. Like a month late." He takes the club application papers into his hands, smoothing over the crumpled pages.
"Would there be a problem?" The short youth does his best impression of a kicked puppy, lips trembling and eyes ridiculously glistening, two stars twinkling in the sky.
"You're in luck. Deadline to join's in a week. Oh, and one more thing." The man sets to leave, and then pauses mid stride, turning his neck just a bit. "Don't make that face again. Ever."
As he's just about to shout in happiness, the ginger feels a soft hand on his shoulder. He jerks his head, taking in the image of the older boy next to him, fluffy gray locks just feathering the stranger's face.
"It's great that you're excited, but let's put all that energy in the tryouts."
"Ah, yeah. I'm Hinata Shouyou!" The other guy laughs, shoulders bouncing up and down.
"Yes, I know. I could hear your introduction from the other side of the gym. I'm Sugawara Koushi, third year bio major. I'll take you to the locker rooms to get ready. This is your first time in Gym 4?"
"Yes! I mean I've peaked in through the glass a couple of times, but never had the chance to come in." He eyes the tall ceilings, the polished wooden floors. The gym's equipped with bleachers, all shiny and well-maintained, the smell of salonpas in the air.
"Heh, well you're not missing much. Everything is visible besides the changing rooms, obviously. By the way, what position do you play?"
"I'm the ace!" The elder boy blinks, mirth clouding his brown eyes.
"Iwaizumi-san's going to get a kick out of that. But I believe in you Hinata. You can do it. Probably." The last word is uttered softly, almost buried in the squeak of sneakers.
They sink themselves in meaningless chatter, perhaps Suga's attempt to calm the nervous twitching boy down. As he enters the lockers, Hinata catches a glimpse of Oikawa sitting on one of the benches, shirt off and blabbering to a shorter man with spiky locks. His blood stops cold when they suddenly lock eyes, the setter winking as he rushes by.
"So I'm going to test your receive now. I'll have one of our first years serve at you, and you try your best to keep it in the court."
"O-okay, got it."
"Kageyama!" Hinata's eyes suddenly widen. Ah shit, of course he'd be there. He's on the team for Christ's sake. Hinata curses his momentary stupidity, that he'd actually forget half the reason why he's here trying out for the volleyball team in the first place. Don't look away, don't you dare look away -
Dark blue orbs stare into his own, appraising his worth, and Hinata unconsciously flinches.
"This is the new guy?" Kageyama edges in closer, so close that their noses are just centimeters from touching. The shorter boy feels the telltale dampening of his shirt, hears his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Grumpy wets his lips, tongue dancing over the pouty pink, and for a second Hinata wonders if he'd kiss him.
"...You're pretty short, you sure you can do this?"
"...Huh?"
"I said, you barely come up to my chest. Height's a big factor in volleyball, so unless you're looking to replace our libero-"
"S-shut up! I can do this! And not as a libero - I'm gonna be the ace!" Three seconds of silence, and the ginger can practically see the other guy's annoyance flaring up like an overflowing pot. This isn't how it's supposed to happen - Kageyama should be realizing he's Erika, except less pretty and more male. Should be shaking him, throw a punch even, while Hinata cries and sputters whatever shitty excuse he has. He's not supposed to be, not supposed to not notice anything!
"And I'm saying that's impossible! Even if you jump, if the opponents jump they'd still be higher than-"
The words slowly fade into the air as Hinata leaps up with the full force of a rocket, knees popping just above the fringe of the net. The rest of the surrounding team members mutter out words of surprise, Suga among others smiling like they've won the lottery. A stray ray of sun catches the glow of orange locks, and the dust around him glistens like newfound feathers. With a thud, Hinata's back on the floor.
"Don't look down on me," spits Hinata, a fire erupting from the frame of his body. Kageyama just scowls, a new light flickering in his eyes, before distinguishing in the sea of blue.
"Whatever."
As Kageyama sets himself up for a jump serve, Hinata can barely keep still. He can feel all the eyes drawn on him, unblinking questioning gazes trying to size him up for all his worth. He feels the world slow down around him, time trickling like just another element of the universe, easily manipulated or ignored. Sees the setter take a step forward, ball spinning suspended in the air, his own body twisting into a perfect receiving stance -
and receives it gracefully. With his face.
Before he knows it, the ceiling of the gym is in view, with a very concerned Suga popping in moments after.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" His ears catch the snickering across the open space and he sees colorful blotches in the corners of his eyes.
"Yeah I'm good." He picks himself up, dusting the dirt off his butt, ears glowing. "What's the next test?"
"The test is over," says Kageyama, teeth gritted. "You're done."
And then Hinata sees red.
"What the hell! I kept it in the court, didn't I? And I didn't even get the chance to show off my skills -"
"I'm saying you got knocked down by a single serve-"
"And I'm saying I want a chance at spiking!"
Kageyama's about to shout more, when Suga somehow slips in between the two, eyebrows dipping and smile dangerously strained.
"Settle down boys." He may be smiling, but that aura's foul enough to knock out a herd of buffalo. "I'll set for him, so you won't have to."
"But senpai, we have our first game in two weeks. Is this really the time to be training a beginner?"
"Hey I'm not -"
"That's okay," the gray haired youth mouths, something dark flashing in his eyes. "I'm only a reserve player anyway." He twirls the red, green, and white ball on his index finger, watching it spin in a trance.
"Hinata."
"Yes!" Sugawara lets the ball drop, catching it with a hand. "Do your best."
And he does, but to no avail. He misses every toss, no matter how fast or slow it is. Each time he fails, he asks for another, which Suga promptly obliges, but after the twentieth toss even the small crowd hovering by from the magnificent jump scatters.
Hinata grits his teeth in frustration, feels the anger flare up in his veins. Why couldn't he do this? He's hit many tosses before, spiked many balls in the course of his sports career, but try as he might he can't rule out the fact that it's been months since he's handled a ball. They say these things become muscle memory after a while, but coupled with his impatience and a setter that he's only worked with for the first time in his life...let's just say things aren't looking so hot.
"Again! One more time!"
"Hinata, I think this is really enough-"
"Please!" Bright caramel orbs peer into Suga's own. "I can do this. I know I can." Shuffling, a pause. Finally, the older boy sighs, bringing a small smile to his face.
"Kageyama."
"Yeah?"
The tall brooding figure walks over from the other side of the gym. Hinata knows he hasn't stopped watching him even after the others lost interest. The ginger doesn't want to admit he's relieved that his tryout hasn't ended yet, even if he's being shuffled over to Kageyama. Just a bit.
"Toss to Hinata. Make sure it's not an impossible one."
"If he can't hit it, then he can't hit it," huffs Kageyama, voice low and sharp. Without even checking to see if he's ready, Kageyama chucks the ball at him, launching the round object with the precision and grace of a sniper. Hinata's up in the air at the same second, sneakers squeaking in a flash of orange and green, eyes shut and hands poised and ready to strike. It connects.
The loud smack of flesh hitting leather resonates throughout the gym. Hinata stares at his own hand, red and tingly from the collision.
"I...hit it." Silence, pause. "I hit it!" Suga joins in the excitement, clapping and grinning like crazy.
"You did it!" Soft hands ruffle his hair, and he's losing himself to the waves of euphoria. He barely notices Tsukkii's smirk from way over there, only a hint of smugness this time, and Yamaguchi's just grinning and hooting away. Suddenly, he's whisked up by two hands griping his shoulders.
"What have you been doing all this time?"
Dark blue eyes lock with his own, jaws tight, twitching. There's anger, an accusatory spark. He remembers the braced ankle, the months warming the bench with only his loud cheers reaching the full width of court. The excuses, the attempts to justify his distance from volleyball even after the damn tendon had healed.
Nothing. Nothing at all.
~*~
After much deliberation, the coach accepts Hinata into the team, although he's placed into the second string. Something about too many variables, and not enough practice. Hinata's just glad he gets to touch a ball, and doesn't make too much noise for now.
He learns that Suga, sweet Suga, is also on the reserves, and is its honorary setter. He's also flabbergasted to hear that Kageyama's already on the first string, although he's there as a pinch server. His inability to work well with others cost him his preferred position, Oikawa clamping down hard on that regular setter's spot. And for much reason too. The way he can lift the team's individual capacities to 100% is downright scary.
When practice finally ends, Hinata rushes out the gymnasium to not risk any distractions. He's still a bit pissed at Kageyama, hell he's still a bit pissed at himself. His phone suddenly buzzes as he flits through the double doors, and he checks it, sliding his finger down to unlock the screen. Speak of the devil. There's a text from Kageyama, asking how Erika's day went. Also, about how a new kid just joined his volleyball team. The message is long, spanning three texts and counting.
>> There's a new guy, he's kind of an idiot, but I think if we teamed up we can definitely make it to first string. His athletic abilities are no joke. Too bad the technique's terrible.
Hinata clicks his tongue at the insult, but feels his face heat up at the unintended praise. That the taller boy thinks of him as useful, useful enough to potentially partner up with, is making his heart all fluttery. And like a hound dog, the shorter youth could sniff out the underlying message in the texts - Hinata brings Kageyama the hope that he can be a regular. He smacks his cheeks with the flat of his palms, trying to snap out of the stupid giddiness.
Now, if only he'd tell me this to my face.
His phone vibrates again, and Hinata hastily swipes at the screen.
>> But he's definitely a weirdo. I catch him staring at me a lot.
The ginger blinks, bottom lip protruding in a pout. Well maybe if he hadn't been glaring daggers at the shorter boy he wouldn't see Hinata retaliating in those eyeball wars. He quickly types a message in retort, fingers dancing over the touchscreen keyboard. Jokingly, but maybe ironically too.
<< Maybe he has a crush on you (;
>>...God I don't even want to picture that.
That was quick, only taking five seconds for Kageyama to respond. There's a slight bitter taste to Hinata's mouth, chest heavy, but he tries to convince himself that if another guy had a crush on him, he would feel grossed out too. Probably.
Maybe, maybe not.
The next time he sees Kageyama it's in class, Japanese Lit again. Doesn't seem like he recognizes Hinata still, and the shorter boy feels a strange twist in his stomach. When the lecture finally ends and he's about to run out of the room, Oikawa calls out to him from Tobio's seat.
"Yoohoo! Chibi-chan!"
Shocked and thrown off rhythm, Hinata has no choice but to go over, shoulders hunched and with the fleeting eyes of a frightened animal. There's Kageyama wiping off drool from his cheeks, Iwaizumi nagging at him to sleep at home, not in class, idiot. As soon as he's three feet away, the sullen boy looks up, dark blue gaze clouded in confusion.
"You know him, Oikawa-san?"
"Duh, we're on the SAME team." To which Tobio's eyes widen, recognition flashing through pretty azure.
"Oh. You're right."
"Where're you headed?" asks Iwaizumi, a polite half smile on his face. Even with the long sleeve shirt, Hinata can see the toned brachiali, the rippling biceps. Now, this is an ace.
"J-just the library. I'm meeting up with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi to study."
"Aw no fun. Woulda invited you to lunch with us," says Oikawa. He's staring right through him, large brown eyes peering into his soul.
Kageyama says nothing.
"Oops, uh, next time then," mumbles Hinata, laughing awkwardly and bringing up a hand to scratch his head. And then he's out the door. Well, almost.
"Hey wait." The back of his collar is being tugged, and he cranes his neck, notices Oikawa hooking his fingers to the fabric.
"W-what?"
"Since we're teammates now, we should exchange numbers. Team policy, actually. You ran off so quickly yesterday, that hurt Iwa-chan feelings, you know?"
"Wha- Shittykawa!"
Those pearly whites and charming smile are enough to make half a room swoon. Oh, shit. Hinata's sweating bullets now. He's on super duper thin ice, about to sink and drown 'cause Kageyama already has his number. Except he thinks it's Erika's. Oh shit.
"Erm, well my phone's actually broken right now. I kinda d-dropped it in the toilet the other day." ...And his face flushes up. Really, a toilet of all things? He might as well say Natsu ate it, or it spontaneously exploded, anything.
"That's too bad," says Iwaizumi.
"That's gross," chirps Oikawa and flashes that smile.
Kageyama calls him an idiot.
Hinata manages to escape for now, but not before promising to have his phone fixed by the end of the week, and to share his digits then. The orange haired youth can't shake the dread off his face.
Once in the library, Hinata sinks into the wooden chair. His orange locks are frazzled, head leaning back into the seat and exposing his Adam's apple.
"Rough day?" Yamaguchi offers him some coffee, which Hinata politely declines.
"Just peachy."
Tsukishima snorts.
They plow through pages of the biology textbook, each of the three freshmen having a midterm next week. There's a warm buzz of chatter, cut short only when a stiff old librarian walks by, a mean glare glinting from her glasses. After a couple hours of nonstop studying, Hinata throws his head back and groans.
"I wanna get on varsity already," whines the ginger. Tsukishima flips the page of his textbook, eyes never leaving the text.
"Maybe you should have connected with the tosses then."
"I-I was just a bit rusty is all! And I did connect!"
"Yeah, at the twenty-somethingth," says Tsukkii, a smugass smirk crawling on his face.
"It was the twenty-first!"
"Hey Tsukkii, I think he's turning pink," chirps Yamaguchi. Hinata growls, then shuts up, shivering while an ancient librarian waddles by, watching with wide eyes as she rounds the corner.
The trio is quiet again, busy jotting down notes, when Hinata once more breaks the silence.
"Hey guys," No answer. The short youth shrugs, continues talking. "So my friend, the one who keeps getting asked out by a guy, is having problems again. She like, kinda chilled with him but he thinks she's older than she actually is."
Silence. Well, besides the scratch of pen on paper.
"If he finds out my friend's real age, he wouldn't want to be friends anymore. What should she do?"
"I thought she hates this guy."
"Well you know. Things happen. Also, where's the best place to buy a cheap phone?"
"Probably the second hand dealer near the train station. And you should really stop putting yourself in such shitty situations," says Tsukkii.
"Wha-no! That's not me in the stor-"
"Right, right." The blond throws his hands up, like he's yielding, except Hinata knows better. Tsukishima never yields.
"I told you, it's not-"
"Hey, there's a new movie's coming out Tsukkii!"
"Hm, the one about zombies, right?"
And he's ditched, left trying to convince the air that he's not talking about himself, that he's not wracking his brain trying to get out of this mess. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Hinata sees that it's Kageyama. His heart clenches in his chest.
Oh, just who am I kidding?