Chapter Text
There was really no explosive lead-up to what happened that chilly September afternoon, despite the many rumors that circulated after the fact.
The day itself was quite unremarkable, in all honesty. Just as dull and insignificant as the night that followed it, or, rather, it was heading steadily down that route until 9:00pm or so. Actually, no - was it closer to 10:00pm when it happened? Kageyama doesn't know. Kageyama doesn't really remember any specific details of the accident besides the Hinata-related ones.
What he does remember is the minutes before, when Hinata was complaining about his jagged nails (which he tends to bite at mindlessly when he gets anxious). He remembers that he'd insisted on filing them not once but twice, because a volleyball player's hands should never be anything less than perfectly pristine.
He remembers that while he worked, Hinata was rambling about two of his kouhai, something about how they weren't getting along, both trying too hard to impress their seniors and messing up simple plays as a result.
He remembers Hinata getting up, only one hand done being filed, and acting out an example of the kind of thing that would happen. He remembers him grabbing a volleyball, purposefully botching a serve, and sending it flying into the school's bleachers, where it somehow got lodged between them.
He remembers saying something about it. It was some stupid jab at him, like...
Like...
September 10th - Karasuno Gym
"That's impressively horrible." Kageyama blows out a low whistle as the clang of the ball hitting the bleachers echoes through the gym. "Looks a lot like how you used to serve in first year."
"Hey? Rude! Show some respect to your elders, Yamayama-kun," Hinata huffs, slinging his arms behind his head as he starts walking over to the bleachers. "How many times do we have to go over this? As vice-captain, I'm-"
"Nope. Just because you're vice-captain doesn't mean you're my fucking elder," Kageyama spits, pushing himself up and racing to Hinata's side to elbow him in the ribs. He whines.
"You're forgetting that I'm a summer baby, baby!" He boasts, rubbing his aching side. "Ow."
"'Baby' sounds insanely weird coming out of your mouth," Kageyama declares, a shiver darting down his spine. "And remind me why I should give a shit?"
Hinata...he should really save his stupid pet names for one of the girls pining after him, not his male best friend. He has plenty of options to choose from now, anyway...ever since he became the vice-captain (and a third-year) he's been getting more confessions than ever. It's kind of annoying to witness.
"'Cause! You're a winter baby! That makes me older than you by, like, six whole months!"
Damnit, okay. That's an irrefutable fact. "...Being older doesn't count for shit if it's less than a year difference, though," Kageyama reasons, starting to climb up the bleachers once they've arrived in front of them. "It's not like you're an entire grade above me."
Hinata follows him with a scoff. "You don't get to add random rules!" He objects, stopping in front of the two bleachers the volleyball is stuck between. "That's like suddenly going best two out of three when you lose rock paper scissors!"
Kageyama is about to argue that he's definitely done that exact thing before, in fact, the two of them have probably gone into double-digits once or twice, but the thought leaves his mind as he notices just how goddamn stuck the ball really is.
He toes at it with the tip of his sneaker. “Great work, genius. It’s really wedged in there thanks to your completely unnecessary example.”
“Mhm, mhm, all I'm hearing is that you’re super crazy jealous of how strong my hits are,” Hinata smirks, jumping up to mime hitting a spike. The bleachers shake unsteadily as he lands with a thump.
“You wish,” Kageyama rolls his eyes, “If I’d hit it, the bleachers would’ve been dented instead of the volleyball.” He squats down to try and pry it free.
"Well, that'd suck big time, cause then you'd have to pay to repair 'em," Hinata leans over him, putting all his weight onto his hands, which have settled firmly on Kageyama's broad shoulders. The heat from his palms seeps slowly into the fabric of Kageyama's thin tee-shirt - it's a sensation that never fails to distract him from what he's doing, no matter how used to it he should be by now. "I much prefer this outcome."
"I'd 'much prefer' if you got off me for a second so I can get this thing unstuck," Kageyama mutters, trying to shrug him off but he won't budge. There's no way in hell he can get a good grip on the volleyball with Hinata basically holding his arms down. "Do you mind?"
"You just boasted about being muscular enough to dent metal, freeing yourself from little ol' me shouldn't be a problem." Hinata digs his fingers into his shoulders, making the tiny hairs on Kageyama's arms stand on end.
He shivers slightly before swatting angrily at the knuckles of his offender. "Fuck off," He grunts, thoroughly disoriented now by Hinata's prodding hands and Hinata's smug voice and pretty much everything to do with Hinata because he is a stupid piece of shit dumbass.
"Oho? Why should I?"
"Because I asked you nicely?"
"Lies. Liar. Pants-on-fire-yama." Hinata hums and slumps over him, his chin now rested atop Kageyama's head. "That was not 'asking nicely.' You told me to fuck off!"
"And I meant it." Kageyama blindly reaches above his head to try and shove Hinata's face away. "You're seriously pissing me off."
"You say that like it's not a huge accomplishment for me." Hinata catches his hands and their palms press together. "C'mon. You know I have to piss you off whenever I get the chance. It's like, a Hinata-Kageyama law."
"If that's the case, then I'm vetoing it." Kageyama yanks his hands back, now clammy with sweat. "And while I'm at it, every other 'Hinata-Kageyama law' you've come up with."
"Planning on overthrowing my government, hmm? That's really dangerous, Yama-kun..." Hinata tries to grab for his hands again, but Kageyama has already shoved them deep in his pockets. "I'll send the special ops after you."
"The special ops, huh...”
"Yep. AKA me and Natsu. She's a really good agent. You should see her play spies."
"I thought you said you were the one sending the special ops after me, now you're working as a part of them?"
"I can do both. Right?" Hinata blinks. "I dunno how the government works..."
Kageyama stares blankly ahead. "Why am I even entertaining this?"
"Ooh, I know this one,” Hinata's fingers are now entangled in Kageyama’s bangs, messing them up as much as humanly possible (which is not as easy a feat as it used to be, considering Kageyama had chopped them short at the beginning of third year). “The answer is: Because I'm your number one favorite person ever.”
"Where the hell did you get that idea?" Kageyama mutters, almost but not totally unphased by the bold claim. In first year, such a statement would've sent him into a coma, (probably throughout most of second year, too) but after many, many long days spent by Hinata's side, the greedy, overconfident words are slightly easier to handle. "Don't flatter yourself, dumbass. You're not even in my top three."
"Kageyama-kun, you suck at lying," Hinata whispers into his hair, and okay, this is getting to be a bit much. Kageyama might be used to most Hinata-isms, but he's definitely not used to whatever this is, even though it's been happening in tiny spurts for months now. He can't even describe what exactly this is, he's tried before, to Miwa, but he only got as far as 'Sometimes I think I'm scared of Hinata,' before she burst into laughter because 'What on earth could possibly be scary about Hinata?'
Kageyama doesn't have a clear answer for that, but he knows whenever Hinata gets like this, whenever they get like this, he kind of wants to run.
"Seriously, get off me," He mumbles, trying to get up but Hinata's weight resting on him won't let him do so, "Now, Hinata."
Hinata only goes more dead-weight, practically a ragdoll at this point. "What's the magic word?" He chirps, happy as a clam, "I'll give you a hint: it's not 'fuck off.'"
Kageyama grits his teeth. "God, you're so..." He sharply adjusts his legs so he has more control over his stance and, with one swift push, forces himself up.
"I'm so what-" Hinata starts, but gets promptly cut off as he gets thrown from Kageyama's back by the motion, and it happens.
It'd only be a stumble, if they were on flat ground. If they were on flat ground, Hinata would fall on his ass and cuss him out and maybe get a tiny bruise on his knee.
But they're twelve bleachers up. And twelve bleachers up, there's no Point A to Point B, there's no standing-one-second then on-the-ground the next, because when Hinata falls and slams his skull into Bleacher Ten it all doesn't come to a stop, not even when Bleacher Eight slices into the side of his neck, not even when Bleacher Four twists it unnaturally to the side.
It only stops once Hinata has finally crumpled onto the cold floor of the gymnasium, his eyes blown wide and his hands clutching his neck and his legs shaking furiously.
Hinata, Kageyama says, but he doesn't, he can't get the first syllable out of his mouth.
Hinata.
Hinata.
Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. "Hina..." He rasps, and hearing the sound of his own voice finally getting unclogged from his throat pulls him out of his daze just enough to get his feet moving. He staggers down the bleachers with trembling legs, somehow making it all the way down unscathed and collapsing heavily by Hinata's side.
"Hinata," He repeats loudly, because what the fuck just happened, what the fuck just happened, "Hinata, are you-"
"Can't- I can't-" Hinata chokes, his fingers grasping uselessly at the giant gash in his neck, which a startling amount of blood is spilling out of. "Kagh- Kageyama, I can't— I-"
"Can't what? What?" Kageyama grabs Hinata's wrists to stop him from clawing at the gash. "What is it?"
His arms spasm roughly, but Kageyama doesn't let go of them. "'Gotta help me," Hinata heaves, "You've gotta help me, Yama, I can't br- I can't br-"
"I'm trying! Hinata, I- I want to help, I just- I just don't know how," he sputters, panic rising in his chest. "I don't know what you're saying to me. I don't understand."
"Can't breathe," Hinata gasps, the color of his face rapidly darkening.
Kageyama's blood turns to ice in his veins. He's suffocating, he's fucking suffocating! CPR, he needs CPR, what the hell are are the steps of CPR? Kageyama learned it way back in middle school, there's something with the person's ribs, and breathing into their mouth and keeping up a certain pace but if you do it wrong you can break their ribs or is that if you do it right but what is the proper rhythm anyway and how do you start it is it the breathing part first or the ribs part first with your hands and the
"Call," Hinata's hands are clinging to his shirt, and when did he let go of Hinata's wrists, he doesn't remember letting go of Hinata's wrists. "Call th...ital."
Call the hospital, Kageyama understands, nodding, and he frantically fumbles around in his pockets for his phone. There's so much sweat clinging to his palms that he stupidly ends up dropping it before he can even flip it open, and Hinata flinches at the loud sound it makes when it clatters to the floor.
"I'm- it's- sorry, I'm sorry- just hold on-" He babbles, rushing to pick it up again and not even caring that the side of the screen is now cracked because at least it still works. He dials the number and tucks the phone between his ear and his shoulder, keeping both his hands free just in case he needs them to help Hinata.
"Hello. You've reached 119," A staticy female voice comes through the line, "Please state your emergency."
"My friend can't breathe," Kageyama says immediately, "He fell and he's bleeding out from the side of his neck because there's a huge fucking gash in it and it's twisted all weird and his arms and legs won't stop shaking-"
"Is he conscious?" She interrupts, "Is he at all responsive? Can you hold a conversation with him?"
Kageyama shifts closer to Hinata on his knees, pressing the phone harder against his ear so it doesn't fall again. "He's- he's still conscious right now." Hinata isn't looking at him, he hasn't looked anywhere except straight ahead since he fell, but his eyes are still open and he's still clinging onto Kageyama's shirt and he was able to communicate with him less than a minute ago. "He was talking to me right before I called, but he's struggling to breathe and I don't remember- I don't remember how to do CPR right."
"I'll walk you through it, but first I need you to tell me your location so we can send an ambulance over. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, we're- we're in the gym, it's- we go to Karasuno-" Kageyama begins, but he suddenly gets yanked forward by Hinata and the phone falls from his ear.
"T...turn the...lights 'ack on," He begs, breathless, delirious, "Why'd you...why...?"
"The lights?" Kageyama echoes, baffled, "I didn't touch the lights." They are on. Is he...?
"No," Hinata tries to shake his head but moving his neck at all is a herculean task, and even the attempt has him choking out soft sobs. "Ghh...ukgh....the lights..."
Kageyama leans closer and sees his eyes are shut, the lids of which are twitching erratically. This is bad. Really really really fucking bad. He can barely breathe and he doesn't even realize his eyes are closed and he's losing all understanding he has of the situation and he's probably going to pass out any minute now and CPR won't work and he's not going to wake up.
"Hinata, listen, you can't— you can't take a nap here. Don't be lazy, dumbass," Kageyama scolds, trying to bait him back into normalcy with the biting words, "S-seriously, set a better example, vice-captain."
No response. It's silent other than Hinata's weak, shuddering breaths every two to three seconds. Logically, the sound should grant Kageyama some level of comfort, assuring him that he's still breathing even if not perfectly, but the lack of a reply from him has sent his panic into maximum overdrive.
"Hinata," He says again, reaching out a hand towards his bloodied neck, "Hinata, are you even listening to me? Hey," He rests his hand gently, gently over the wound, trying to slow the bleeding, "Don't ignore me."
Still, there's nothing. "...Hinata. Hello?" Nothing. "Hinata." Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing, fucking nothing!
"Shouyou," He tries, desperate, and then there's something, but it doesn't matter because the something isn't a 'How bold, Kageyama-kun,' or a 'That's a disrespectful way to refer to your senior," or even a 'Calm down, I'm alright,' it's the ambulance siren, blaring its awful two-beat melody into his ears until it's all he can hear, until even the sound of Hinata's ragged breathing is no longer audible.
September 10th - Katta General Hospital
Kageyama hates riding in ambulances, but not as much as he hates sitting in hospital waiting rooms. Because when he was told Kazuyo was dead, he wasn’t in an ambulance, he was right where he is now, in a rickety old chair with a stretched out piece of fabric splayed thinly across its seat, a sorry-ass excuse for a cushion.
They haven’t redone the seats since the last time he came here, way back when he was fourteen, which, of course, in Kageyama’s mind means that the whole place is a shithole and that Hinata is going to die. He hadn’t looked good in the ambulance - they’d had to do a tracheotomy on an uninjured part of his neck when the usual oxygen mask had done nothing, all while he'd been rapidly drifting in and out of consciousness.
Kageyama had asked the nurses a million different questions on the drive over, but he forgets the answers they gave him, if they gave him any at all. All he knows is there was a lot of silence and definitely more than one ‘We don’t know yet’ which is cold comfort when your best friend is bleeding out on a stretcher.
His family isn’t here yet - Hinata’s family, that is, Miwa is off in a different state - but he knows they’ve been contacted. He doesn’t have their phone numbers but they must’ve found them in Hinata’s phone because he was asked to sit in a row of three seats in the waiting room, which leads him to believe the other two are presumably for Mrs.Hinata and Natsu.
Still no news, he messages Miwa, the seventh in a long string of unanswered texts he’s left since first arriving at the hospital, because there’s no one for him to talk to and he’s kind of freaking out. It’s been almost an hour.
A few minutes (see: fifteen seconds) go by without a response from her, and Kageyama feels himself grow ten times more antsy, if that much of an increase is even possible with the stress level he's already at. Did she go to sleep? It's possible - she never was one to stay up past ten, even in her more rebellious years. It's a trait he's always had in common with her - they're both early sleepers (and risers).
But who else is there to talk to? Is there anyone who'd be awake right now that he can easily get in contact with?
Yamaguchi? No, he'd probably feed into his panic more. Yachi? The same case except way worse. Tsukishima?
He waits for his brain to automatically object but it doesn't - because Tsukishima may be an asshole, but he is also an insomniac with a level-head which makes him an unfortunately perfect candidate.
Kageyama gnaws at the inside of his cheek for a minute before ultimately giving up and opening his extremely bare-bones text chain with Tsukishima - they've sent maybe three messages back and forth since the start of first year.
KAGEYAMA 11:05pm ⇢ Are you awake And available to talk
Two check marks appear to show the message has been delivered, and Kageyama tries very hard not to think about how insane it will look to receive, especially considering who it's coming from.
TSUKISHIMA 11:07pm ⇢ Am I hallucinating this message?
TSUKISHIMA 11:08pm ⇢ Do you know what number you're texting?
Okay, that was to be expected. At least his reply was quick.
KAGEYAMA 11:09pm ⇢ No
KAGEYAMA 11:09pm ⇢ And Yes
Kageyama doesn't concern himself with sending anything more than the necessities - the longer he spends setting up the conversation, the longer he has to wait to talk about Hinata, which is the entire reason he's texting him in the first place.
TSUKISHIMA 11:11pm ⇢ ???
TSUKISHIMA 11:12pm ⇢ Go text Hinata. I'm trying to sleep
Wow! Great advice! Why didn't he think of that before? He'll just text Hinata! Of course!
KAGEYAMA 11:14pm ⇢ I can't
TSUKISHIMA 11:16pm ⇢ are you guys fighting again i swear to god
TSUKISHIMA 11:18pm ⇢ get over it and text him. i'm sick of you both
This was such a stupid idea. His worst idea ever next to being friends with Tsukishima in the first place. He should have just sent twenty more texts to Miwa.
KAGEYAMA 11:25pm ⇢ He Fell in the gym after practice
TSUKISHIMA 11:27pm ⇢ let me guess: you made fun of him for it and now he won't talk to you. how tragic. goodbye
fuck you then sits in his textbox for a good two and a half minutes before he deletes it and forces himself to send another explanatory message.
KAGEYAMA 11:30pm ⇢ no, he fell onthe bleachers and hurt his neck
KAGEYAMA 11:30pm ⇢ i'm at t the hospital
These are the first messages to not get an immediate reply, and Kageyama wonders if after Tsukishima sent his last message he'd decided that he truly didn't care, turned off his phone, and successfully fell asleep. He's pretty sure that happening in the span of three minutes is kind of unrealistic, though, which his phone is quick to confirm with another ping a few seconds later.
TSUKISHIMA 11:38pm ⇢ Are you being serious?
"Excuse me? Kageyama Tobio, sir?"
Kageyama's head whips up so fast he gets dizzy. A nurse? It's a nurse. "Yes? What is it? Is there- is there news?"
She pulls out a clipboard from under her arm. "That depends- did you come here with Hinata Shouyou?"
"That's- yes, that's me. Is he okay? Is he awake? Did you help him?"
Did you help him? The question is so idiotic, so childish, he doesn't even know why it came out of his mouth.
The nurse smiles at it all the same. "Yes, I believe we did, considering he's conscious and his condition has stabilized. Would you like to see him?"
If he were a more well-mannered person, he'd ask if he's really allowed, considering that generally only family members and spouses are given access to a patient's room. But he couldn't give less of a shit. He has to see him.
'Because I'm your number one favorite person ever.'
It's true.
Humiliatingly so.
"Yes, please," he croaks, and the nurse begins to guide him down the hall.
"Now, due to how damaged his neck was, we've put him on vocal rest until the stitches we gave him heal." She starts to explain, but Kageyama is only half listening, distracted by his phone suddenly buzzing incessantly. Was Miwa finally texting him back? He'll have to get back to her later... "Besides the stitches, we had to go in and rearrange the upper section of his throat a bit to steady his breathing. It's not a permanent solution, so he'll have to come back in once he's..."
She explains at least five more things to him on the way to the room, and he makes a mental note to ask her to repeat them to him after he's had a chance to talk with Hinata, because absolutely none of it is sinking in for him right now.
"Alright, this is the one!" She says finally, and it's the first thing Kageyama has actually latched on to since they started walking over. "Just remember what I said about-"
But Kageyama has already burst through the door. He whips his head around wildly until he finds what he's looking for, and there's Hinata, silent and pale, sitting up straight in a too-thin looking hospital bed.
Don't they make bigger beds? He can't be comfortable in that. He won't get good sleep. There's a tube in his neck. Why is there a tube in his neck? I thought they said he was stable. He looks pale. He looks nervous. He looks like he didn't expect to see me. Why? Why wouldn't I be here? Does he not want me to be here? I should leave. I really don't want to leave. I can't just leave.
"Hinata." He approaches his hospital bed like a zombie with an insatiable craving for Hinata-brains.
Hinata watches him with a tiny little smirk. He grabs something from the bedside table - a notepad? - and starts scribbling on it with a pen that has apparently materialized out of nowhere. By the time Kageyama has reached his side, he seems to have finished the impromptu art piece he's working on, and holds it up for him to see.
What's on the notepad isn't a drawing at all, though. Instead, it's a string of words, written in horribly shaky chicken-scratch.
I thought you were calling me 'Shouyou' now?
Kageyama wants to sob like he's fourteen again.
“I’ll call you whatever you want," He breathes, leaning in close so that he can drop his head onto Shouyou's shoulder. It feels lighter than it has in hours. "Whatever you want..."