Chapter Text
2012, Karasuno High School Gymnasium
Miyagi Prefecture, Northern Japan
Contrary to popular belief, or to anyone who cares to know, Yahaba Shigeru didn't actually meet Karasuno's #10 on the other side of the court. Or any side of the net to be exact. Not even on any practice or official matches either. For while volleyball was the only perceived link to how they could’ve possibly known each other, there was one particular event that gave Yahaba the impression that Hinata was a force to be reckoned with.
The dental clinic.
It was a summer ago before his second year began when he spent his off-practice days working at his father’s office as cleaning personnel. He was merely making good of his break by being helpful to the family business. And getting handsomely paid.
His mornings would usually start off with keeping the floors pristine white and the garbage bin emptied by closing hours. The in-betweens would either be cleaning after a patient or snacking behind the vending machine. It was an unspoken crime to bring anything that had even the tiniest amount of sugar into the threshold, after all. Same old routine with no expectations for it to change until one day, he heard a guttural scream from across his father's operatory.
“What. The. Hell. Was. That?”
Eerily, no one even batted an eye. As if they were used to this.
It was a high shrill but a tone lower enough to differentiate it from a girl's voice. Yahaba felt chills when laughter followed, confirming that his father did indeed have a knack for finding entertainment in his poor, patient’s pain. Then the door opened to reveal a middle age woman with a little girl no older than ten on hand. "Nii-chan was really tough, but he screamed like a girl." She giggled.
Her bright, orange locks subtly reminded Yahaba of daybreak.
The woman, presumably the mother, merely nodded in agreement as they made their way to the check-out counter.
Now Yahaba wasn't a nosy person. He preferred playing the background character- an underdog even in his own story, but curiosity bested him at that moment. He had seen patients come and go from the office, a lot of them crying as they step foot into the operatory but sullenly quiet after the treatment. So who could’ve possibly been still in pain afterwards?
Yahaba casually made his way to the operatory and peeked at the mysterious character that caught his attention only to step on a generous splatter of blood on the floor.
"Shigeru? You can clean up in a while once we get Hinata-kun out of the - SHIGERU!"
He passed out, point blank.
It was moments later when he woke up on his father's spare couch that he learned of a Hinata Shouyou who got three extractions WITHOUT ANESTHESIA. Yahaba wouldn't have believed it until his father, after laughing at his comical expression, said that it was his second session so it wasn't done consecutively.
"Otherwise that would've been dangerous, even for his high pain tolerance." he explains. "Though that kid is one tough tit. Imagine flat-out choosing removal without anaesthetics because he was scared of the needle. Crazy right?"
"Crazy." Yahaba echoes. He tried to remember what this Hinata looked like by deriving a bit of his appearance from his sister, only to come up with a blur of orange.
This brings him to his current predicament, in the middle of a practice match between Aoba Josai and Karasuno, as he sees Hinata Shouyou for the second time. Not in a four corners room with linoleum tiles and blood, but from across the court as he serves the ball straight to the back of his teammate's head.
Kunimi and Kindaichi howled in laughter, as did some of Karasuno's players if not louder. And then said teammate, who was probably sporting a concussion, stalked towards Hinata akin to a predator as he continuously hit the spot where the deadly serve took aim.
"What are you so afraid of?" says Kageyama.
Hinata gulped, as did Yahaba.
Afterwards, they fall into an easy rhythm and while it wasn't a smooth rally, it was enough to take the whole set even at Oikawa's late arrival. Throughout the game with the obvious outcome, Yahaba resigns to watching Hinata. He watches his monstrous jumps take flight, a freak quick done by an unbelievable amount of speed and a very precise toss.
Hinata’s sharp, beryl eyes were closed whenever he spiked and Yahaba, as a setter himself, didn't know if he should be astonished or annoyed or both.
Astonished that a short middle blocker who ran around the court in a blur of orange believed in his setter so much that he didn't need to look where he was hitting. Annoyed that it was a selfish move that won't improve either of the players. Both because who in the right mind could pull off something as crazy as that?!
"Crazy." Yahaba echoed.
Crazy as Hinata being more scared of needles and his own teammate (though who could blame him on the latter) than the blood blood blood pooling injuries he attained that could possibly last him a lifetime.
Yahaba saw it in Oikawa's egoistic love for volleyball that ruined his knee, and now he was seeing it in the ginger-haired boy whose smile could rival the sun. It would be a shame when volleyball would eventually extinguish it.
But he also saw the way Oikawa looked at Hinata, even after the latter almost spiked the ball towards his head, missing a mere millimetre from suffering a concussion. It was from a high toss whereas he didn't need to close his eyes. And when Hinata landed, dark brown and jewelled beryl met. Both were filled with the familiar, insatiable hunger as they greedily drank the sight of each other.
A bit off-putting for Yahaba's taste, too primal and too intimate. But for someone who had the displeasure of seeing this sick sort-of-love develop at first sight between two players more alike than they could’ve ever thought, Yahaba would be lying if he said that he didn't want to stick around and see how it plays out.
It's just volleyball, after all.
2012, Miyagi Prefectural Qualifiers
Northern Japan
Aoba Josai won against Karasuno by two sets with the final taking the most devastating point from the wing spiker, who failed on the one thing they counted him to do best. And while Seijoh’s cheers echoed throughout the stadium even when they took their victory out for the day, Yahaba stayed.
He stays for the unfathomable emotions that he couldn't help but feel when he saw Hinata crumble from the other side of the court. It was Aoba Josai’s strong wall that ended the game and Hinata's spike and Kageyama's toss that made Karasuno lose. Now Yahaba wasn't one to kick anyone who was already down, but if he was being honest from a fellow player's point of view, it was that predictable freak quick’s fault.
There was just too much trust in it. Yahaba knew that. Oikawa did too, and mercilessly exploited it. Nevertheless, it was a win with honour. Yet-
Yet what exactly was Yahaba hoping for? To apologize? To be forgiven?
The opposite team, especially Karasuno's #10, did not need his pity. They needed each other to reinvent themselves, to strengthen their defence and learn learn learn Aoba Josai's reserve setter was not needed in that equation.
Besides, he and Hinata weren't even friends! He shouldn't apologize for his team's effort, or be sorry for Hinata. Yet-
Yet he finds Hinata alone within the secluded greenery just around the stadium’s perimeters. It was nearing sundown, no doubt both of their teams finished with their meals and already waiting for them at their respected buses. Yet here they were, juvenile and uncaring, as the muted orange of the sunset reflects Hinata's locks and drowns the fire in Yahaba's tortilla colored eyes.
"You did -
"I know!" Hinata shouted. "I know I did terrible. But I'm going to get better, so prepare yourself. We're not going to lose next time."
Yahaba was shocked, and Hinata's angered expression immediately mimicked his. The latter started to sputter incoherent apologies for being so disrespectful towards a senpai, Yahaba choked at being called as such, and continued to do so until both were reduced into a blushing mess. They couldn't breathe, took a moment to do so, and then stared at each other.
And laughed.
They laughed for the absurdity of the situation. Of Hinata's dried tear-stricken face. At Yahaba's gnawing worry for nothing. It's just volleyball, after all.
"Alright." the reserve setter says. "I look forward to it, Karasuno's #10."
They lost.
They were completely and utterly destroyed, defence broken and their coordination permanently in disarray. Oikawa was on his ruined knee, Iwaizumi's teeth clenched in fury, the mischief that use to twinkle in Matsukawa's gone and Hanamaki looked like he was ready.To.Kill.
For they lost to Shiratorizawa again.
Yahaba tried to stay positive, if not for his own crushed pride as Ushijima stared them down with disdain and Oikawa really should've come to Shiratorizawa but for his senpais too. This was their last year, but they still had another shot! Spring Interhigh would just be around the corner and then they'll get their revenge, and then-
And then-
"Shut up." says Yuda, one of the third year reserve players. "Stop spewing bullshit unless you believe in it yourself."
And then Yahaba cries, he was on open crier after all, but not in front of his teammates. He hasn't earned the right to when he couldn't even take a goddamn point with his jump floaters or his pathetic and predictable sets. So he runs as far as his legs could take him until he was beaten with sweat and his lungs burned for air. Subconsciously, he finds himself back to the place where found a considerable amount of solace with one Hinata Shouyou.
It was stupid. He was being stupid. Karasuno probably went home already after their defeat and Hinata would be mental if he bothered to watch his opponents match live. The very same opponents who made them eat dirt, clip their wings and took their first chance for nationals-
"Yahaba-san?"
He whisked around in shock to find the second subject of his misery a few meters behind him. And since when did Hinata bothered to know his insignificant name?
They stared at each, neither breaking eye contact nor making sudden movements. And when it was deemed safe safe from what exactly? Hinata took three, long and careful strides to close the gap between them. Yahaba felt his breath hitch now that the tables have turned with him moping around in loss and Hinata there to comfort his pathetic state.
"You did well." He finishes the sentence that the reserve setter earlier could not. And the dam broke, and he cried.
"I didn't! I sucked!"
"Your serves were amazing."
"They didn't get through!"
"The jump-floaters were the best."
"It was blocked by that fucking guess monster every time!"
"Your tosses were awesome."
"They were not!"
"They were!"
"WERE NOT!"
"THEY WERE!" Yahaba suddenly felt both of his cheeks sting at the same time. Hinata's small palms, the same ones that hit his setter's tosses with unrelenting force, were planted on both sides of his face as Hinata brings it closer to his.
The reserve setter couldn't tell if he was red from the crying or close contact or both. "Turnip Head-kun missed the first set made by the Grand King, and everything became messy and frustrating from then and BAM! You were called in. Pinch server! Your serve may have been received from the other side of the court, but your presence alone broke the tension amongst your teammates. Kinda like Suga-san when he smiles, but not like Kageyama cause have you seen him? I swear he was planning something."
Yahaba was getting confused with the nicknames thrown around and tried to put two and two to get a clearer image of who and what Hinata was trying to portray. And was he still breathing?
"- and then your toss, THAT TOSS. It was SWISH, slow but precise, and then Seijoh's ace appeared and slammed it across the net!" The sunset behind them was the same one that painted Karasuno's loss and Aoba Josai's win. Now it was both their losses and the colors still haven’t changed. Not for Hinata Shouyou's and Yahaba Shigeru's tears, not even for their laughter. But hey, the situation right now complemented the scenery better.
And so Yahaba laughed, he thinks he's going crazy and was probably scaring the younger player too, but continued to do so until he was in hysterics. Hinata gives him a juvenile pout for the audacity of cutting his volleyball briefing short, yet beamed at the sight anyways.
"Do you usually comfort your enemies like this? That's a bad habit, Hinata-kun." he says after wheezing enough air to talk without feeling the residues of pain.
Hinata on the other hand, just shrugged. "Or good sportsmanship."
On cue, both of their phones rang. They were calls from their respective captains asking for their whereabouts. Hinata sputtered for a horribly webbed excuse of skipping out on practice due to a cold and not miles away from Karasuno while Yahaba effortlessly lied that he got lost looking for the restroom.
Neither Sawamura nor Oikawa believed them.
The call drops and both had a punishment of a hundred squats and twenty laps around their school waiting for their return.
2012, Spring Interhigh Qualifiers
Northern Japan
It's just volleyball.
Karasuno came back stronger than ever and takes the qualifiers by a storm, by an unassailable murder of crows that mercilessly picked on their enemies until there nothing left but bones. Their team was beyond well-coordinated with their impregnable form of defense and relentless attacks, each so unpredictable that the set was over in a heartbeat.
So it shouldn’t have been a surprise that they won against Aoba Josai AND Shiratorizawa.
It was a battle of concept won. An infamous synchronized attack built on the trust Oikawa once looked down on. And there were no more one-trick ponies or blind spikes for Hinata.
Karasuno cheered, and the rest of the audience who saw and supported the evolution of their play followed.
On the other hand, Yahaba found himself crying once more for the senpais who will graduate without making it to Nationals. He expected to deal with this alone as everyone will, even after his captain’s speech after their game and the last meal they’ve shared together as a team. But it was just so hard knowing he will still have next year whereas the rest won’t.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. IT WASN’T FAIR
And suddenly, Hinata was there to catch him before he fell into the bottomless pit of his hate.
No jokes, no flattery, no words of comfort or expected laughter followed. Just him, pathetically crying his heart out for being useless useless useless while the ginger-haired player who was supposed to be celebrating his victory held him.
It was quiet, but not painfully or awkwardly so. Just quiet with the sunset behind them.
For it wasn't really the end of the world, it's just volleyball.
2013, Miyagi Prefecture
Northern Japan
Kyoutani and Yahaba didn't get along swimmingly. Fact.
Yahaba and Hinata meet on random occasions. Also fact.
It was three in the morning and Yahaba couldn't sleep as the memory of Seijoh's Graduation Ceremony kept replaying in his head- a bright day for a gloomy occasion as they’ve said their goodbyes one last time to the senior players of Aoba Josai.
Oikawa states that their departure won't mark the end of Aoba Josai’s reign for the formidable blue castle was there to stay with a new king on their stead.
He hands Yahaba his mantle.
"But this-?!"
"-Is now yours." says Oikawa, and the jacket felt heavier on Yahaba's clutches. It was tradition, like many other teams before them, to pass the tracksuit jacket of the previous captain to the next. For something that looks at least decades old and has been customized several times, the jacket was still in good condition- pristine white and the turquoise lettering of AOBA JOSAI VOLLEYBALL CLUB in bold print. And now it was in the clammy hands of one Yahaba Shigeru.
"I- I can't possibly accept it! I'm not good enough!"
It was Iwaizumi who responds with a flick on his forehead. And boy did that hurt. "He chose you for a reason. Figure that one out."
But the problem was; Yahaba didn't know what that was. And suddenly it was only days away before he arranges their first official match as the new captain. He should be elated. Ecstatic even! Yet all he feels is the suffocating pressure of you’re never going to be good enough-
He breathes out deeply, expelling the dark thoughts away. It was something Hinata wordlessly taught him. Speak from the gut. Clear your mind. Drown out all the unnecessary noise and find comfort in your heartbeats instead.
Then he chuckles at the thought of wishing for the ginger-haired player to be here right now just because. A selfish thought because they weren't really friends. Because friends know each other’s likes and dislikes, do hangouts like eat and shop together. Maybe even play volleyball on the same side of the court. And how nice would it be to actually toss to Hinata because no matter how sloppy his sets were, he'll certainly be there to spike it-
He breathes, kicks his covers off, gets up and changes into a clean tracksuit for a morning jog.
Now Yahaba expected to have a quick run around the neighbourhood and back to his house before his parents woke up. It would end terribly if he gets caught and get grounded before he could officiate his first meeting as the new captain. A part of him wailed, and the other half thought it wouldn't be so bad.
What he didn't expect was to see Hinata Shouyou sitting at the corner street of a 24/7 Konbini just three blocks away from Yahaba's house.
"We really have to stop meeting like this." he chuckles and Hinata jolts into a fighting stance. Jewelled, beryl eyes softened upon recognition and he drops his defensive form. "Yahaba-san?"
It was three, or maybe it was four thirty in the morning already, when the two found themselves sitting in an empty parking lot with coffee and milk in hand. Yahaba with coffee, black without sugar and cream to look more mature and Hinata with warm milk cause Kageyama told him that it could help with his miniature built he calls height.
They took one, large gulp before they sputtered in disgust at the same time.
"Gross!" Hinata spat, muttering profanities under his breath. This catches the reserve setter off-guard. Since when did Hinata sunshine-incarnate Shouyou curse?
Then he goes off in an unfiltered rant. “-you should've heard him and Stingyshima going on and about their freakishly tall ass. As if it's my damn fault I don't grow 2 centimetres a week!"
"Yet you diligently drink milk every day."
"That’s-" both eyes widened in realization. "You've noticed."
Yahaba was too sleep-deprived to deny it. "I notice everything you do."
They were quiet for a while with the older of the two looking at the black swirls of his coffee and the other lost in thoughts.
“… then did you notice it?” His voice was soft but it carried the weight of a storm. “That back at nationals, I had a fever?”
Yahaba reluctantly nods and all hell broke loose.
"It was my fault that we lost."
"Don't be conceited."
"I should've taken care of myself more."
"You couldn't have known."
"I had a raging fever. How is that possible to miss?"
The reserve setter wanted to retort that a lot of good players would’ve missed it too when their concentration was focused on winning the game set right in front of them. And it was normal! For Oikawa himself didn't notice his knee getting bad until it was too late, or when Ushijima's wrist burned after ten consecutive power spikes or the slight falter in Hoshiumi's jump when executed one too many times. Even the greatest in Japan falls at least once or twice in their life, the only difference was how they pick themselves up afterwards.
But then again Yahaba knew they weren't his story to tell. So instead he says "Then don't miss it next time."
"Next time, my senpais won't be there. Captain, Suga-san, Asahi-san and Shimizu-senpai they're-" he starts to sob. "They never got to- God, I am so sorry-
"DON'T APOLOGIZE!"
Kyoutani and Yahaba didn't get along swimmingly. Fact.
Kyoutani was the only player who managed to provoke Yahaba from a brink of a screaming match to the worst physical fight in Aoba Josai’s gymnasium. Ever since then, Yahaba vowed never to yell at anyone ever again. Fact.
Until now.
"BECAUSE I WON'T!" he was crying too. God, what is it with Hinata and the sun behind them and crying? "I won't apologize for beating your team before so my senpais could advance to Interhigh Nationals, even though we lost. So don't apologize for playing until your body gave out. Only then I won't apologize for taking Oikawa-san's jersey."
"H-his jersey?"
There was an unmistakable hint of envy laced in his voice but Yahaba was too caught up in admitting his insecurity aloud to question it. "I was promoted to Captain yesterday."
Hinata’s demeanour immediately changed from self-loathing and envious to just happy for someone as he squeals and threw his arms around the brunet. Yahaba drops his coffee and Hinata’s milk bottle thrown at their back. Oddly, he found it more reassuring than congratulatory gestures exchanged at Aoba Josai gymnasium. "Congratulations Yaha- Captain!"
"I’m not your captain, brat! And show some respect to your elders!"
Yahaba pulls at the other’s hair and realizes why everyone liked to ruffle his orange locks once in a while - it was soft as a bunny's fur. And he didn't even like the fuzzy rodents.
"But I don't think I'm good enough. I don't think I'll ever be good enough. Iwaizumi-senpai said that I was chosen for a reason and I can't figure out what cause what else am I good for aside from bench warming and shitty tosses-?" he felt both of his cheeks sting at the same time, his self-loathing silenced with Hinata's eyes on his. This was a familiar gesture done one too many times to cut him off when he was reduced into this hateful mess. He breathes. "I don't know what I'm doing."
"Finding out why he chose you shouldn't be a problem. You should just be happy that he did."
"It's not that simple! You don't understand-
"You're right, I don't. But you trust the Grand King, right?"
"With my life." He answers in a heartbeat and Hinata beams.
"Then trust in his decision. Trust that he chose you."
It was only when they were running home for their lives that Yahaba realized just how manipulative Hinata can be. He was supposed to be comforting the ginger-haired player and his devastating loss at Nationals yet Hinata have once again, managed to turn the tables on him.
Hinata was like the sun, warm and kind as he melts Yahaba’s insecurities away until he was able to breathe just fine.
Next time he was going to return the favour, as they were bound to run into each other again anyways.
Yahaba gets home at exactly seven thirteen in the morning where the sun was shining on his hair and fury burning in his mother's eyes. As it turned out, one should definitely not climb their parent's rose arbour to sneak back into their room. His mother takes deadly aim with a huge gardening scissors, missing his head by a few millimetres, and his father unfazed by the scene.
"You could've taken the ladder, son." he says.
They discuss his punishment over hot pancakes and coffee. That yes, he was out on a very early jog and he wasn't doing drugs behind a vending machine. The red of his eyes and cheeks were from the burn of running non-stop and not flat-out bawling at Hinata. And no, he didn't meet up with any of his senpais from their club. They've just graduated yesterday and had more pressing concerns than a worried mother hounding them for allegedly taking her son out at night. And no, it wasn't a girlfriend either as much as he wished it was.
"It's Hinata! Hi-na-ta! That human tangerine who happened to be your anaesthesia-refusing patient last year."
His father's eyes, the same tortilla-colored orbs they share, twinkled in recognition. "You're friends with Hinata-kun? Perfect timing! Could you pass him a message along the next time you see him? Tell him that his next appointment due in two weeks." the breakfast conversation was over with the verdict to replant his mother’s poor roses over the weekend and their topic shifted to his somewhat-friend, Hinata Shouyou.
Hinata, who has a lot of friends ranging from the introverted Kozume to the hyperactive Bokuto, was now Yahaba’s friend too though he was certain he'd barely made Hinata’s list yet, let alone his top ten.
His mother not-so-subtly perked in interest as she had been worried that Yahaba's friends' were only from club. Even if Hinata was also involved in volleyball, it was nice knowing her son made a friend from a more outer circle of it.
"But of course he's also a volleyball player. Those injuries would've gotten there without small accidents." His mother tut as she pours herself a cup of black coffee. Yahaba's nose wrinkles in disgust at the overpowering smell of caffeine. "Hinata-kun must be a very clumsy child. Bless his poor mother's heart."
"Injuries?" Yahaba pushes the cup of coffee away from his reach.
His father nods. "The broken molars I had previously extracted were horribly chipped. It’s a shame as he didn’t even have that much cavities to begin with."
"Well he does like his face receives." Yahaba thinks about the countless times the ginger-haired player caught the ball with his cheek, deliberately avoiding his nose for the sake of not getting benched. "Alright, I'll let him know if we see each other."
"You better." a small, rectangular box was thrown to Yahaba's way. It was a new phone.
"This-?!"
"Congrats on making it to captain this year, Shigeru."
Tears welled up his eyes that completely washed his anxiety away as it rolls down his cheeks. He couldn't wait to let Hinata know.
If only he had his number.
2016, somewhere in Miyagi Prefecture
Cliff side
Yahaba watches the sunrise with dead, tired eyes. The warm glow washes the cold off his skin and drowns the residues of last night's events.
"We have to go." He says.
His voice was soft but callous enough to earn an icy glare from Iwaizumi as he holds onto Oikawa- Oikawa who once was the valiant captain Yahaba looked up to, was now reduced to a sobbing mess sputtering incoherent pleas as he tightly clutches onto the blood- stained, #10 turquoise jersey.
Hinata Shouyou's jersey.
He sighs, turning his gaze back to the source where the myriad of warm colours blended. Everything in Miyagi, from the cold morning chill to daybreak and sunsets reminded him so much of Hinata. And painfully so.
Then Yahaba exhales deeply. Speak from the gut. Clear your mind. Drown out all the unnecessary noise and find comfort in your heartbeats instead. Just like how the ginger-haired libero taught him to.
And he pushes Hinata’s bike down the cliff.