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The gym was alive with the familiar rhythm of a practice match—the squeak of sneakers on polished wood, the rapid slap of the volleyball, and the calls of teammates coordinating their next move. Amidst the flurry of action, Tsukishima Kei found himself distracted, his attention drawn to the court’s center.
There, Kageyama Tobio was setting up another perfect toss for Hinata, who soared high, his usual boundless energy propelling him into the air. The spike landed with a resounding smack, earning another point for their side.
A pang of jealousy stabbed through him. It was irrational, he knew, but every time he saw Kageyama so naturally at ease with Hinata, he couldn’t help but feel like an outsider. Tsukishima had been noticing it for weeks now—how Kageyama's eyes lit up, how his voice lost its usual harsh edge when he was around the orange-haired spiker.
Tsukishima felt a knot tighten in his chest, a mix of frustration and something he didn't want to admit as jealousy. The nickname “King” had no longer held the same meaning between them.
The game continued, but Tsukishima's focus was shot. He was a step behind every block, his reactions dulled. He could feel Yamaguchi's concerned glances, but he just couldn’t snap out of it. The final straw came when he missed a block he would’ve normally executed with ease, allowing the opposing team to score.
Kageyama’s scowl was immediate, sharp as a blade. “What the hell are you doing, Tsukishima?” he shouted, his voice cutting through the noise of the gym. “Are you even trying?”
Tsukishima stiffened, the cold tone of Kageyama’s voice stinging more than it should have. Usually, he'd fire back with a sarcastic quip, but today, the words wouldn't come. His shoulders slumped, a dull resignation settling over him.
The rest of the gym grew quiet, all eyes turning toward the brewing confrontation. Tsukishima could feel everyone's gazes burning into him, waiting for his usual retort, the familiar clash of wills. But this time, he just felt… tired.
Without a word, Tsukishima turned on his heel, walking toward the sidelines.
“Oi, Tsukishima!” Kageyama’s voice was harsher now, tinged with confusion. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Tsukishima stopped but didn’t turn around. The entire gym held its breath, the tension thick enough to cut through. “I’m done,” he said, voice flat, devoid of his usual bite.
Kageyama’s brows furrowed, anger and confusion battling for dominance on his face. He marched over, grabbing Tsukishima by the wrist, forcing him to turn around. “What’s your problem?” he demanded, eyes blazing. “You think you can just walk off like that? You’re supposed to be better than this!”
Tsukishima’s eyes were dull, the usual spark of defiance nowhere to be seen. “Just leave it, Kageyama,” he said, the use of Kageyama’s name instead of "King" hitting like a physical blow.
Kageyama froze, his grip loosening. The gym was dead silent now, everyone’s attention fully on the two of them. The absence of the nickname that had been thrown at him stung more than he wanted to admit.
“What… did you just call me?” Kageyama asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tsukishima finally looked up, meeting Kageyama’s eyes with a cold, detached gaze. “I said leave it, Kageyama,” he repeated, the name laced with finality, like a door being shut between them.
Kageyama’s eyes widened, shock and a flash of something close to panic flickering across his face. “So that’s it?” he asked, voice rising. “You’re just giving up?”
Tsukishima didn’t flinch, his expression eerily calm. “I’m tired,” he said simply. Tired of all of this.
The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving Kageyama standing there, fists clenched at his sides, lost for words.
The rest of the team and even the other players from the opposing teams were frozen, unsure of what they had just witnessed. Kageyama was never one to back down from a fight, but right now, he looked like he had lost something vital.
But Tsukishima didn’t wait for a response. He turned and walked away, the echo of his footsteps the only sound in the otherwise silent gym.
For once, Kageyama had no words. He was left standing there, watching Tsukishima’s retreating figure, his chest tight with a feeling he didn’t know how to name.
And for Tsukishima, it felt like he had just cut away a part of himself he hadn’t realized he was holding onto so tightly.
The gym was frozen, tension thick in the air. Every player, both from Karasuno and the other teams, stood rooted to their spots, eyes wide, unsure of what was happening between the two
But Kageyama wasn’t about to let things end like this.
“Tsukishima!” he called out, his voice straining with a mix of anger and desperation. He took off in a sprint, closing the distance between them in a matter of seconds. His hand shot out, grabbing Tsukishima's arm, forcing him to stop.
The taller boy stiffened at the contact but didn’t turn around. He just wanted to get away, away from the noise, away from Kageyama’s piercing eyes that seemed to strip him bare. “Let go, Kageyama,” Tsukishima muttered, his voice flat, the lack of his usual bite making it sound even more hollow.
Kageyama’s grip tightened, his eyes wide and searching. “Why?” he demanded, his voice rough around the edges. “Why aren’t you calling me ‘King’ anymore?”
Tsukishima didn’t answer, his jaw tightening. He just wanted this to be over. Wanted the ground to swallow him whole so he didn’t have to face Kageyama, didn’t have to see those confused, hurt eyes that were currently boring holes into his back.
Kageyama, however, was relentless. He yanked Tsukishima around to face him, his hands trembling. “Am I not your King anymore?” he shouted, the sound reverberating through the gym.
The question hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, Tsukishima could only stare at Kageyama, his mind going blank. He had never seen Kageyama like this—so raw, so vulnerable. The usually composed setter’s eyes were shining with a mix of anger, confusion, and something else Tsukishima wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
Kageyama’s voice broke as he repeated the question, desperation lacing every syllable. “Kei... am I not your King anymore?!”
The gym was dead silent. Every eye was on them, every breath held in anticipation. Tsukishima felt like he’d been doused in ice-cold water, the reality of the situation slamming into him like a freight train.
Seeing Kageyama’s usually fierce, unbreakable face contorted in such raw emotion shattered something inside of him. Tsukishima could feel the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall, not here, not in front of everyone.
He was tired—tired of fighting, tired of pretending he didn’t care.
Tsukishima’s resolve broke first, just like it always did when it came to Kageyama. Without a word, he closed the distance between them, his long arms wrapping around Kageyama in a tight, desperate embrace.
“I’m just… really tired, okay?” Tsukishima whispered, his voice barely audible, muffled against Kageyama’s shoulder. He clung to Kageyama like a lifeline, his usually cold and distant demeanor shattered. “I’m sorry, my King.. I’m just tired.”
Kageyama stood frozen for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden hug. But then, his arms slowly came up, wrapping around Tsukishima’s back, pulling him closer. He buried his face in the crook of his boyfriend's neck, his breaths ragged and uneven.
“You idiot,” Kageyama muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “You worried me. I’d never stop being your King right? You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”
Tsukishima let out a shaky breath, the tension leaving his body in a rush. He didn’t have the strength to fight anymore, not when Kageyama was holding him like this, not when the whole gym seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of them.
“I’m sorry,” Tsukishima whispered again, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Kageyama pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, his expression softening. “Just… don’t give up on me, okay?” he said, his voice steady but quiet, meant only for Tsukishima to hear.
Tsukishima nodded, a small, tired smile ghosting across his lips. “Yeah… I won’t,” he murmured as he kissed the top of his head, “You’re still my King and will always be.”
The gym was silent at first, a tense, stunned quiet as everyone tried to process what they had just witnessed. The air felt thick, almost as if time had stopped the moment Tsukishima wrapped his arms around Kageyama.
But then, like a crack in the ice, Hinata’s voice broke through the stillness.
“YES! I knew it!” Hinata shouted, pumping his fist into the air. His loud cheer snapped everyone out of their daze, and soon the gym was filled with a mix of relieved laughter, applause, and hushed whispers.
Nishinoya practically tackled Tanaka in his excitement, his eyes shining with glee. “Did you see that?! I told you they were a thing!” he exclaimed, his voice carrying across the court.
“Hell yeah, I saw it!” Tanaka shouted back, grinning ear to ear. “About damn time they stopped dancing around each other!”
Yamaguchi, who had been holding his breath the entire time, let out a long, relieved sigh. A warm smile spread across his face as he watched his best friend finally let go of his pride, even if just for a moment. “I’m glad… Tsukki,” he whispered to himself, knowing how hard it must have been for Tsukishima to be vulnerable like that.
Sugawara clapped his hands together, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, young love,” he teased, nudging Daichi with his elbow.
Daichi shook his head, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “About time, I’d say. Those two were driving everyone crazy with their tension,” he said, crossing his arms.
Asahi, always the gentle giant, had a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with surprise. “I didn’t… I didn’t expect that,” he admitted, cheeks flushing a bit. “But… I’m happy for them.”
Kiyoko and Yachi were standing off to the side, their hands over their mouths in a mix of surprise and glee. “That was… intense,” Yachi whispered, her face a bright shade of pink.
Kiyoko nodded, a soft smile on her lips. “But I think they needed that. It’s good to see them being honest with each other.”
Even the opposing teams couldn’t help but react. Bokuto, who had been watching with wide eyes, turned to Akaashi, his grin as wide as ever. “Did you see that, Akaashi?! That’s what I call passion!”
Akaashi merely sighed, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, Bokuto-san, I saw it. Hard not to when Kageyama was practically screaming.”
Meanwhile, Kenma was off to the side, looking mildly interested for once. He nudged Kuroo with his elbow. “Looks like your prediction was right,” he murmured, earning a smug grin from Kuroo.
“Of course, it was,” Kuroo replied, chuckling.
Back on Karasuno’s side, Kageyama and Tsukishima were still standing in the middle of the court, the world slowly filtering back in as the reality of their very public display hit them. Tsukishima’s cheeks turned a faint pink, realizing that everyone had seen everything.
Kageyama’s face also turned crimson, but he refused to let go, his arms still wrapped protectively around Tsukishima. “What are you all staring at?!” he barked, his usual scowl back in place, though there was no real heat behind it.
The team erupted into laughter again, the tension that had been hanging in the air finally dissolving into lighthearted banter.
“Don’t worry, Kageyama! We’re just happy you for you two!” Nishinoya shouted, earning a round of chuckles from everyone.
Tsukishima groaned, covering his face with one hand, but there was a small, genuine smile peeking out from behind his fingers. For once, he didn’t feel the need to put up his walls. “You guys are ridiculous,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words.
Kageyama just grumbled, but there was a soft look in his eyes that no one missed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s just get back to practice,” he said, releasing Tsukishima but not before giving his hand a quick, reassuring squeeze that was more than enough to send the message.
The rest of the team fell back into their positions, but the energy was different now—lighter, more unified. It was as if a weight had been lifted, and even their opponents could feel it.
Hinata bounced on his toes, unable to contain his excitement. “This is going to be so much fun now! We’ve got the power of love on our side!” he declared, earning groans and laughter in equal measure.
As the match resumed, there was a renewed spark in the way Karasuno played. And though Tsukishima didn’t call Kageyama “King” for the rest of practice, the unspoken bond between them was stronger than ever, visible in every set, every block, and every glance they shared across the court.
It wasn’t perfect, and there were still things they needed to figure out. But for now, they had each other. And for the team, that was more than enough.
Extra:
After a long set of practice matches, Coach Ukai called for a break, and everyone collapsed onto the benches or sprawled out on the gym floor, catching their breath. The atmosphere was lighter, the tension that had been lingering for weeks completely gone. The team’s playful energy had returned, and there was a buzz of excitement as they cooled off.
Hinata, ever the bundle of energy, was already bouncing on his feet despite the grueling practice. He grabbed his water bottle and jogged over to where Kageyama and Tsukishima were standing, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Oi, Bakayama!” Hinata called out, his voice carrying across the gym. Kageyama looked up, still a bit flushed from their earlier drama. Tsukishima was next to him, sipping his water, trying to act nonchalant as always.
“If you’re the ‘King’ of the court…” Hinata began, grinning like he’d just thought of the most brilliant idea ever, “then that makes Tsukishima your ‘Kishi,’ right?”
Kageyama blinked, confused. “Kishi? What are you talking about, dumbass?”
Hinata’s grin only widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Kishi! You know, like a knight!” He puffed out his chest proudly, as if he’d just delivered the joke of the century. “A King needs a loyal Knight, right? So that’s Tsukishima!”
There was a beat of silence as everyone processed Hinata’s words. Then, like a dam breaking, laughter erupted throughout the gym.
“Pfft—Oh my god, Hinata, that’s genius!” Nishinoya howled, practically doubling over with laughter. “Tsukishima, the Knight! Who would’ve thought?”
Tanaka joined in, slapping his knee. “I can see it now! Sir Tsukishima, the Knight who serves his King!”
Tsukishima groaned, rolling his eyes, but the faint pink dusting his cheeks betrayed him. “You’re all idiots,” he muttered, though there was no heat behind his words.
Kageyama scowled, his face turning bright red as he tried to maintain his usual stern demeanor. “Shut up, Hinata! That’s stupid!” he barked, but the embarrassed smile tugging at his lips was impossible to miss.
Sugawara leaned over to Daichi, grinning. “Looks like we’ve got a new royal duo on the team,” he whispered conspiratorially.
Daichi chuckled, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d see the day,” he said, watching as the team continued to tease the two.
Yamaguchi couldn’t help but join in, a teasing smile on his lips. “Hey, Tsukki, does this mean you’ll start wearing a suit of armor to practice?”
“Yeah, maybe bring a sword to protect your King!” Asahi added, his usually shy demeanor replaced with a rare burst of boldness.
Even Kuroo and Bokuto, who had been watching from the sidelines, decided to get in on the fun. “So, King Kageyama and his loyal Knight Tsukishima, huh?” Kuroo drawled, a wicked grin on his face. “Sounds like a fairytale!”
Bokuto’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Does that mean there’s a dragon they have to defeat? I volunteer to be the dragon!”
Kageyama groaned loudly, covering his face with one hand. “You’re all idiots,” he grumbled, though he couldn’t stop the smile that was slowly spreading across his face.
Tsukishima just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I hate all of you,” he said, but the small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips betrayed his true feelings.
Hinata, not missing a beat, leaned in closer, grinning up at the taller boy. “Come on, Tsukishima! Aren’t you going to say, ‘As you wish, my King’?”
That sent everyone into another fit of laughter, some of the players collapsing to the floor in hysterics. Even Kageyama, despite his best efforts to appear annoyed, was shaking with laughter, his shoulders trembling.
Tsukishima looked down at Hinata, giving him the most deadpan stare he could muster. “Keep it up, and I’ll personally make sure you’re benched for the next match,” he threatened, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, betraying his amusement.
Hinata just stuck out his tongue and bounced away, clearly pleased with himself for riling everyone up.
As the team continued to laugh and joke around, there was an undeniable sense of camaraderie that filled the gym. The tension that had once threatened to pull them apart was gone, replaced with the easy, joyful energy that had always defined Karasuno.
And for Kageyama and Tsukishima, the teasing, the laughter, and even the ridiculous royal titles felt like a promise—a promise that no matter what, they weren’t alone.
The King had his Knight, and the Knight had his King. And that was more than enough for now.