Chapter Text
“What?!” Nishinoya-san exclaimed incredulously. “It didn't work?!”
Tobio swayed under the weight of the senpai hanging off his shoulder. He simply shook his head once more.
“D-did you remember to give her flowers?” Nishinoya asked, still at a loss. “Girls love flowers!”
“I did,” Tobio said. He had given Hinata flowers—sort of. Colorful petals hidden between the pages of Hinata's notebooks. It wasn't as obvious as a proper bouquet would've been, and if he didn't like them, Tobio could say they'd ended up there by accident. That probably didn't count as a gift, but it was the best he could do.
“Then what went wrong…?” Nishinoya mumbled to himself.
Tobio shrugged. He had a vague idea.
Just that morning, as soon as he'd arrived at the school gates, Tobio was greeted by a smiling Hinata, brighter than the sun first thing in the morning. Hinata had walked up to him purposefully, bowed deeply, then offered Tobio a box wrapped in colorful paper.
For a moment, heart almost stopping, Tobio had thought that was it. The sign that Hinata reciprocated his feelings. He'd felt overjoyed for all of two seconds before that moron opened his mouth.
“For you, Kageyama-kun,” Hinata had said, straightening his back and beaming up at him, “to show you how much I appreciate our friendship!”
The words crashed over his head like a cold shower.
Tobio recounted the event to his senpais, now gathered around him.
“He—uh, she gave me something back,” he said, feeling his ears and neck grow warm.
“She returned a gift?” Tanaka-san asked, wide eyed.
“No. She gave me a gift of her own,” Tobio said.
“Isn't that a good thing, eh?” Sugawara-san asked, resting one hand on Tobio’s shoulder. “Sounds like someone made progress!”
“I thought so,” Tobio mumbled. “But then she said— ‘I appreciate our friendship.’ I'm not sure what it means.”
For a beat, everyone just stared at him. Then, Tanaka-san burst out laughing.
“I'm so sorry, dude,” his senpai said, wheezing for breath.
Nishinoya-san gave his arm a sympathetic pat. “Rest in peace, soldier.”
“Oi, cut that out, you two,” Sawamura-san barked out from across the room.
Tobio just looked between each of them, from Nishinoya's pitying expression to Tanaka's tearful eyes, still laughing; to Sugawara's kind smile and Sawamura's exasperated face.
“I don't get it,” Tobio said. “Is this a bad sign?”
“It's not bad,” Sugawara-san said, “just… less than ideal.”
“Less than ideal?” Finally, Tanaka-san's laughing fit ceased, and he straightened up. “Dude… you've been friendzoned.”
Tobio frowned. “I've been what?”
“You're stuck in the friendzone,” Nishinoya-san said, pressing one hand to his chest, “where all your shots at romance go to die!”
“Kageyama has not been friendzoned,” Suga-san said firmly. “This is still a win in my book. It means you two have gotten closer, doesn't it?”
“I… I guess so,” Tobio mumbled.
It did feel like that—like now, more than ever, Tobio could count on Hinata being there even when they were off the court. Like they'd been spending every waking minute together, right beside each other.
And it did make him happy. Even if all Hinata ever wanted from him was friendship, Tobio would be happy with that. He'd be happy as long as they got to play volleyball, beside or against each other.
“So!” Sugawara-san slapped his back a tad too harshly, promptly shaking Tobio out of his head. “That means you've still got a chance, all right? Stop making that face. The ball hasn't hit the ground yet.”
At that, Tobio felt a shiver run down his spine. He nodded at his senpai, feeling a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth. Sure, he loved playing with Hinata, and he loved their friendship; but if there was even a sliver of chance that his feelings might be reciprocated, then well…
He couldn't just give up.
“You know what, I might have some advice for you too, Kageyama-kun,” Sawamura-san said pensively. All heads turned to look at him.
Tobio bowed slightly. “I'd really appreciate that, captain.”
“Okay, well.” Sawamura-san scratched the back of his neck, giving Tobio a warm smile. “If you want to push the relationship beyond platonic, then the secret is to be more gentlemanly.”
Tanaka and Nishinoya let out twin ohhhhs in admiration. “That's such a good idea!” Nishinoya-san said.
“As expected from our trusted captain,” Tanaka-san concluded.
Sawamura-san rolled his eyes and smiled, almost fondly. Tobio, on the other hand, just felt confused.
“How… do I do that?” He asked, frowning. Being gentlemanly? With Hinata?
“Ah, you know, just… try doing little things to help her out,” Sawamura-san said, turning that smile toward him. “Like lending her your jacket if she's cold, or carrying her bag for her.”
“I always offer to do that for Kiyoko-san!” Tanaka-san exclaimed, though his smile soon deflated. “Though she never lets me do it…”
“Just try not to be overbearing,” Sugawara-san supplied helpfully.
“Yeah, this.” Sawamura nodded thoughtfully. “Try to look out for her, but without being stifling. Doing little things like that shows you care about her.”
“Alright,” Tobio said, with more confidence than he felt. “I'll try that. Thank you again, senpai.”
As he walked out of the clubroom, Tobio thought about the gift wrapped in shiny paper, waiting at the bottom of his bag. He'd taken a peek at it during lunchtime, careful not to tear the wrapping. It was a leather-bound journal, very similar to the ones he used to fill with notes about volleyball.
The ball hasn't dropped yet, Tobio thought to himself. It was a good gift, perhaps much better than everything he'd given Hinata so far. It meant Hinata was paying attention, too.
Tobio set his mind on the task ahead, resolutely. Be more gentlemanly… no, that wasn't really the point. The point was to show Hinata how much he cared. To look out for him.
And Tobio was already used to doing that, anyway. Always assessing Hinata's condition, on and off the court. How fast he could run, how high he could jump, how much longer he could keep going. If Tobio let him, he was sure that idiot would run himself into the ground.
So, really, paying attention to Hinata's needs was second nature to him. It was just part of his job, as a setter, to make sure his spiker was in top shape. It might've been difficult for him in the past—seeing his teammates, being aware of them—but with Hinata, it was easy.
This would be his easiest task yet, Tobio decided. He already had all of Hinata's weaknesses and strengths memorized, known by heart. He just had to do something about them.
*
Shouyou peeked up at Kageyama as he reached the bottom of the hill.
“Finally!” He said, through a mouthful of meat bun. “What took you so long, Slug-yama?”
Kageyama glared at him, and—instead of reaching out and grabbing his hair like he usually would—just shrugged.
“I had to talk to the captain,” he said. Shouyou hummed, mouth still full.
He'd been standing around at Sakanoshita with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, listening in to their playful banter while waiting for Kageyama. Shouyou had planned to treat him to a meat bun—just to show how much he appreciated him, again—but it took Kageyama so long to show up that he got hungry again.
Oh, well, it'd be fine, Shouyou thought to himself. There was no time limit to show his appreciation. He could always treat Kageyama another day.
As they walked together, Shouyou struggled to steer his bike with one hand while holding his meat bun with the other. In the end, he decided to take turns, holding the bun between his teeth and stopping occasionally to bite down into it, chewing quickly while his bike clattered precariously along the pavement.
Kageyama kept glaring at the bun in his mouth the whole time, as if sensing the lost opportunity to eat it.
“You're going to drop that, dumbass,” he deadpanned.
“Hm?” Shouyou frowned, letting go of the handle of his bike to pull the bun away from his mouth. “‘M not!” he said, chewing, “I'm used to doing this.”
Kageyama rolled his eyes, then reached out abruptly. For a moment, Shouyou thought he was trying to steal the bun—it was rightfully his, anyway—but Kageyama just took hold of the bike's handle instead.
“Let me steer this for you,” he said.
Shouyou stared at him, mouth agape. A piece of food almost fell out. “Th-there’s no need,” he said, swallowing. Kageyama kept glaring at him intently. “Really, Kageyama-kun! Don't bother…”
Kageyama rolled his eyes. “You always bother me, idiot.” He reached out for the bike's other handle, prying Shouyou's fingers away from it. “Just let me do it. At least until you're done eating.”
Finally, Shouyou shrugged. “Okay. Um. Thanks.” They walked together for a while, in silence. Then, between bites, Shouyou had an idea. He held out his bun toward Kageyama's face and said, “Have a bite. As payment.”
Kageyama stopped in his tracks, looking at the half-eaten meat bun, and oh, Shouyou realized too late that had been a mistake.
Hunger lit up his eyes, nostrils flared, and Shouyou almost bid goodbye to his whole hand as Kageyama lunged for the bun.
He assessed the damage, gawking at the sad remains of his bun, then glared up at Kageyama, whose smirk made his cheeks look even rounder.
“Bakageyama!” Shouyou cried out.
“What?” Kageyama chewed, a glint in his eye. “You offered.”
“I offered a bite,” Shouyou said. “Not the whole thing!”
“That was hardly the whole thing.” Kageyama wiped his mouth with his sleeve and started walking again, Shouyou's bike clattering beside him.
“It was almost all of it!” Shouyou ran to catch up with him.
“Wasn't that my payment? Fair's fair.”
By the time they reached the point where their paths diverged, Shouyou had shoved the last piece of bun inside his mouth, before Kageyama could demand any more payment.
“Okay, I can take it from here,” Shouyou said, climbing onto his bike. “Thanks again, Kageyama-kun!”
Kageyama just gave him a half-shrug. “Yeah. Anytime.”
“See you tomorrow!” he grinned right before taking off.
Speeding away, Shouyou didn’t hear his reply, but when he glanced over his shoulder, he could still make out Kageyama’s silhouette, standing beneath a street light, one hand raised and waving hesitantly.
*
Shouyou thought he had Kageyama figured out. He really, really did.
He had the boy's self-care routine memorized. He knew each one of his tells, what every twitch of his eye and purse of his lips meant. He knew exactly when to duck left or right or down, a millisecond before Kageyama's arm shot out to grab his hair. He knew when to push at his buttons, and when to leave him alone.
And yet, Shouyou couldn't seem to figure out what all this meant.
He'd thought, momentarily, that giving him a gift would put an end to Kageyama's strange behavior. That showing him how much Shouyou truly appreciated their friendship and partnership would be enough for him to go back to normal.
If anything, Kageyama was even stranger the next day.
First, he spent the first half of morning practice droning around Shouyou, watching him closely. It immediately put the boy on edge. His skin prickled under Kageyama's scrutinizing eyes, but whenever he turned and asked "What?", Kageyama would just scutter away without a word.
It was only during break time that he finally said something.
Shouyou was sitting on the steps outside the gym, a towel wrapped around his neck, when a shadow loomed over him. He looked up, shoulders growing tense, and was met by Kageyama's frowning face.
"What?" Shouyou asked again, already steeling himself for a scolding. In his mind, he replayed everything that had happened at practice so far, trying to pinpoint exactly what he could've done to make Kageyama mad.
Although... that wasn't his you fucked up, dumbass signature pout. Instead, it resembled more his studying for an English test pout.
Kageyama crouched down beside Shouyou, reached out—he was too stunned to duck out of the way—and grabbed the towel around his neck.
"Gwah!" Shouyou yelped, as the towel engulfed his whole head.
He squeezed his eyes shut and braced for the sting, but it never came. Instead, Kageyama's hands in his hair were gentle, moving the towel in almost soothing circles. He finished it off by dragging the towel over Shouyou's face for good measure, still surprisingly soft.
Shouyou stared at him, feeling completely at a loss. Kageyama was glaring at a point over his shoulder, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks.
"You have to dry off properly, dumbass," Kageyama said, and Shouyou figured that was all the explanation he'd get.
"O...kay," he said. However, before he could process what had just happened, Kageyama was up and gone, and coach was calling everyone back to practice.
Shouyou dragged one hand over his face, feeling his cheeks overheating despite the fact that Kageyama had just dried off his sweat. Because of that, maybe.
What the actual...
He didn't stop there, either. For the rest of morning practice, Shouyou was acutely aware of Kageyama's eyes on him, waiting for another attack.
It happened again as they were leaving the gym to change in the clubroom. Shouyou was looking for his water bottle everywhere, only to find Kageyama had already filled it for him.
"Make sure to stay hydrated," he said, ignoring Shouyou's bulging eyes.
Things only got stranger over the next few days. Every time Shouyou started reaching for something, Kageyama was already there, holding it out for him. When he forgot to pack his chopsticks, Kageyama let him borrow his. One time, when they were walking home together and Shouyou realized too late he wasn't dressed appropriately for the chilling weather, Kageyama draped his own jacket over his shoulders, unceremoniously.
"You're going to catch a cold, dumbass," was all he said.
Shouyou didn't know how to answer to that. He felt a little annoyed at being babied like this. However, his skin was cold and Kageyama's jacket was warm, falling loosely around his shoulders, and it smelled comfortingly familiar. Which is to say, it stank like Kageyama—sweat and pinewood and something leathery.
Shouyou bit back a complaint, pulled it tighter around his body and buried his cold nose in the collar.
Was this all a prank? A dare Kageyama lost to Tsukishima? Was he sick? Terminally ill? Shouyou couldn't think of a single reason for him to be acting like this. Sure, it'd been months since Kageyama used to be a true asshole to him. They'd gotten even closer lately, what with exchanging friendship gifts and all. Still, there was something odd about the way Kageyama performed these little acts of service for Shouyou, like he was putting... effort into the whole thing.
Shouyou finally snapped by the end of the week, when Kageyama kneeled right before him in the middle of practice to tie up his shoelaces.
"What—you—stupid!” Shouyou hissed, trying to pry his foot from Kageyama's dexterous fingers. He could hear Tsukishima and Yamaguchi snickering in the background. "What are you doing?"
Kageyama glared up at him, tightening the knot in a way that made Shouyou yelp. "Making sure you won't fall on your face and get hurt during practice," he said, before getting up and walking away, as if nothing had happened.
Shouyou just stood there, too stunned to move, feeling his cheeks prickle with warmth. He heard someone chuckle softly behind him and whirled around, ready to give Tsukki or Yamaguchi a piece of his mind—
He found Suga-san standing there instead, poorly hiding a smile behind his hand.
"S-suga-san!" Shouyou stuttered, harsh words dying on his tongue. "D-did you see that?!"
"I did, yeah," Suga-san said, still laughing. "Say, Hinata-kun... have you noticed Kageyama acting differently lately?"
"You noticed it too?" Shouyou squawked. Then, he stepped closer, lowering his voice. "It's so weird, right," he said. "What's up with him? He's being all... nice and helpful, all of a sudden."
"Well, I don't know." Suga-san shrugged. "But isn't that a good thing? That he's being nice to you?"
"I'm not convinced," Shouyou said, narrowing his eyes at Kageyama's stretching form, all the way across the net. "He's probably trying to get my guard down or something..."
Suga-san laughed again, and the sound soothed Shouyou's nerves a little. "Maybe. Why don't you ask him, Hinata?"
Shouyou's eyes widened, and he beamed up at his senpai. "Great idea, Suga-san!"
He decided to confront Kageyama after practice wrapped up.
Everyone else had already gone up to the clubroom, while Shouyou and Kageyama kept practicing receives and passes a while longer, as they often did.
Shouyou was trying to think of a way to broach the subject without seeming suspicious, when he botched an overhead pass.
“Focus, dumbass,” Kageyama said, though his voice lacked the usual bite.
“Sorry! Ow.” Shouyou frowned down at his fingers. The ball had gone in the opposite direction he'd meant to send it, and to top it off, he had a broken nail now.
Kageyama frowned at him. “What's wrong?”
Shouyou shrugged, sticking the offending finger into his mouth. The tip was a little swollen. “S’nothing.”
Unconvinced, Kageyama glared at him for a second before marching over. Shouyou knew better than to try hiding the damage when he held out a hand.
“...This is why it's important to keep your nails properly trimmed,” Kageyama said, inspecting both of Shouyou's hands. Then, he added for good measure: “Idiot.”
Shouyou chuckled nervously. Kageyama still didn’t let go of his hand. “I’m fine, Kageyama-kun. I’ll take care of it as soon as I’m home!”
Kageyama shook his head, looking somewhat pissed, like Shouyou’s broken nail had offended him personally. “Enough for today. Go put the balls away, I’ll take care of the net.”
Shouyou nodded. They worked silently, closing up the gym and heading to the clubroom. He felt on edge. Kageyama’s reaction was… subdued, to say the least. Usually, he’d have much more to say about Shouyou’s clumsiness. It felt like the calm before a storm.
And sure enough, as soon as they stepped into the clubroom, Kageyama whirled on him.
“Come here,” he all but ordered.
Shouyou gulped, trying to calculate how fast he could grab his bag and then bolt out the door before Kageyama could tackle him.
Kageyama sighed and rolled his eyes. “Just come here, dumbass.”
Resigned, Shouyou took a couple hesitant steps toward him. Kageyama grabbed his arm as soon as he was close enough, pulling him in, then turned him around.
“Kage—wah!” The world seemed to blink out for a second the moment Kageyama put his arms around Shouyou’s body. He felt a shiver travel up his spine. “What are—what—”
His mouth clamped shut when he noticed a familiar nail clipper in one of Kageyama’s hands. The other one cradled Shouyou’s own hand carefully.
“Relax, dumbass,” Kageyama said with a huff, warm breath hitting the back of Shouyou’s neck.
That didn’t help him relax at all.
“It’s fine, Kageyama, really,” Shouyou mumbled, feeling like his whole head was on fire. “I can do it myself!”
“Clearly,” Kageyama said with a snort. Shouyou felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. “Stop squirming. I’ll make it quick.”
He didn’t make it quick. Instead, he made it careful, meticulous, like he rarely did anything else. First Kageyama clipped the broken nail, before moving on to Shouyou’s other fingers, and then to his other hand. He even gave each finger a quick filing, leaving his nails perfectly straight and polished.
By the time he was done, Shouyou’s heart was racing inside his chest.
“There,” Kageyama said, letting go of his hand, then turning around to put away his trimming tools.
Shouyou was so distracted by the whole thing that he almost forgot he was supposed to confront Kageyama.
“Hey, Kageyama-kun,” he said carefully, changing out of his dirty practice clothes, “why are you doing all this?”
He looked over at Kageyama, who froze with his shirt halfway up his torso.
Shouyou took a moment to stare enviously at his abs—seriously, it was so unfair—before Kageyama finished undressing and pulled over a clean shirt.
“Doing what?” he asked through gritted teeth, almost growling.
That earned him an eye roll from Shouyou. Of course, he should’ve known. Kageyama never made anything easy. He was also a bit like a barely domesticated cat: spook it and you’ll get scratched.
Shouyou shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. Approaching slowly, deliberately, so Kageyama wouldn’t feel cornered.
“Oh, I mean,” he started, feeling suddenly sheepish. “You’ve been helping me out a lot lately, that’s all. Like, you always fill up my water bottle before I even ask you to. And you keep lending me your things. And, uh, sometimes…” his voice lowered to a mumble and Shouyou scratched his neck, “it’s like you’re… taking care of me, I guess.”
Shouyou looked up at Kageyama, feeling his face warm up once again. Damn, he sounded ridiculous even to his own ears. However, Kageyama wasn’t scowling at him, and he didn’t look any closer to bolting out the door or tackling Shouyou to the ground. Instead, he stood very still, face carefully blank.
“Do you want me to stop?” Kageyama asked.
“Huh?” Shouyou shook his head, feeling a little hazy. “Ah, no. No! This is nice, actually.”
Kageyama’s eyes narrowed. “So, you don’t mind?”
“Nope.” Shouyou smiled at him. “I’m just confused. Why are you doing all this?”
“Well…” Kageyama slung his bag over one shoulder and shrugged, all in one smooth move. “It’s just natural, isn’t it? A setter must take care of his spikers. To make sure they’re playing at their best.” He looked Shouyou over, lips slightly pursed. “Especially you, since you obviously can’t do it yourself.”
“Oi!” Shouyou charged at him. Kageyama planted one hand on his face, holding him at arm's length. “Nevermind, you’re still an asshole.”
At that, Kageyama smirked sharply. “It’s true, though.”
Shouyou didn’t let him off easily—they poked and prodded at each other all the way down the stairs, out the school gates and to the bottom of the hill. Still, even as he bid Kageyama goodbye with a kick to the shin, Shouyou mulled over his words.
He could take care of himself very well, thank you. Still, it felt nice to have someone almost doting on him. Even if that someone was Kageyama, and even if he looked constipated while doing it.
Shouyou truly didn’t think much of it until the next day, when he and Kageyama were the last ones to leave the gym once again.
“Aw, man,” Shouyou groaned, rolling his shoulders. “...Think I overdid it a bit.”
That earned him a glare from Kageyama. “Careful not to hurt yourself, stupid.”
“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine!” He shot back with an eyeroll. “I'll be good as new tomorrow. Just you wait.”
Shouyou could still feel Kageyama's eyes burning holes into the back of his head as he slipped his bag over one shoulder. He winced a little. It wasn't too heavy, but his shoulders were sore.
“Oi,” Kageyama started, fixing Shouyou with that scowly look of his. “Want me to carry your bag?”
“Oh. Sure!” Shouyou let Kageyama take it from him. I could get used to this, he thought, even as something about the situation made his breath hitch.
And then it clicked, just as their fingers brushed. Like a switch being flipped, a lightbulb going off inside his head.
Because Shouyou had heard those exact words many times before, uttered reverently by Tanaka and Nishinoya, and sometimes even one of the third years. “Kiyoko-san, can I carry this for you?”
Just the implication of it was so ridiculous that Shouyou should be bursting into laughter. Should be.
Instead he tightened his hand around the strap of his bag, holding on until Kageyama glared at him and said, “What is it, dumbass? Do you want me to carry it or not?”
“Ah!” Shouyou squeaked. “Yeah! Thanks!” He let go of his bag, almost as if had burned him.
Kageyama just huffed, slung it over one shoulder, and walked away.
Shouyou trailed after him, his bike clattering along the sidewalk. This was just a funny coincidence, right? It had to be. Because there was no way Kageyama felt that way towards him.
…Except, now that the thought had occurred to him, Shouyou couldn't shake it off.
He just couldn't imagine Kageyama as someone who got crushes. The boy's whole life was volleyball. He tended to ignore their senpais whenever one of them snuck a dirty magazine into the clubroom, and he never made an effort to join conversations about one's type. More than that, Shouyou knew firsthand that a lot of girls were interested in Kageyama—why, he couldn’t fathom.
(Sure, he was good looking and strong and passionate. However, he was also dumb as bricks, ill-mannered, short-tempered. Shouyou was sure that none of those girls would actually put up with him for long if they got close enough. If Kageyama ever accepted one or their confessions.)
Anyway, there was no way Kageyama would get a crush on Shouyou of all people. And it wasn't like Shouyou would want him to! That would probably mess up their partnership and make things awkward at practice.
So this had to be a prank. Right? There was no reason to fret. Shouyou slapped one hand over his racing heart, willing it to shut up.
Kageyama returned his bag once they went their separate ways, muttering a “no problem” when Shouyou thanked him again, avoiding his eyes. Shouyou could swear he caught sight of a faint blush spreading over Kageyama’s cheeks, though he couldn't be sure in the dimming light of dusk.
He thought about it all the way home—the way Kageyama had looked almost sheepish, carrying his bag around for no reason at all. He thought about it during dinner and in the shower and in his bed, up all night, staring at the ceiling.
Alright, so Kageyama might have a crush on him. Maybe. There was a non-zero chance.
Shouyou still wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing. First, he needed to figure out if that was even the case.
An idea slowly formed in his mind: maybe his senpais would have some advice for him.
Shouyou ditched Kageyama as soon as practice ended and immediately ran up to the clubroom, hoping to catch Suga-san and the others before they went home.
He took the steps two at a time, then stopped by the door, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He could hear his teammates’ voices filtering through the door, slightly muffled.
“...Sort of amazing,” he heard Daichi-san say with a chuckle. “I've never seen Kageyama so invested in something unrelated to volleyball. I definitely didn't expect him to put this much effort into trying to woo someone.”
A bout of raucous laughter followed the captain's words. Shouyou froze with his hand on the doorknob.
“Yeah, it seems like he's really putting all his heart into it!” That was Noya-san's voice. “Who would've thought?”
“Ah, well, that part isn't really surprising, is it?” Suga-san spoke up next. “Whatever he sets his mind to, Kageyama always gives it his all.”
“That's just a nice way of saying he has a one-track mind!” Tanaka-san exclaimed. More laughter ringed through the air.
Shouyou slowly stepped closer, hand clasped tightly around the doorknob.
“Still, it's surprising,” Daichi-san said softly. “Kageyama has been quieter lately. Almost… shy. He must be really whipped.”
“Ah, you know how it goes,” Tanaka said. “Love changes people.”
“Who do you think is the lucky lady?” Noya-san asked, chipper.
“I have a few guesses,” Tanaka-san said after another round of chuckles.
“So do I,” said Daichi-san.
“Me too!” Suga-san chirped.
Suddenly, Shouyou barged into the room, the door rattling on its frame. All his senpais turned to look at him with a slight frown.
“Oh, hey, Hinata-kun,” Suga-san said with a warm smile. “Going home early today?”
“Yeah,” Shouyou bit out, making a beeline for his bag. He didn't bother changing out of his practice uniform, instead just throwing his jacket over the sweaty clothes.
“Hey, Hinata, shouldn't you—” Daichi-san started, but Shouyou was already halfway out the door, throwing a quick bye over his shoulder.
He ran down the stairs once again, and then towards the bike rack. He ignored Yamaguchi and Yachi waving at him, and the welcoming warmth of Sakanoshita's lights as he rushed past, biking down the hill.
Instead, Shouyou just pedaled like his life depended on it. Like he was running away from something.
He felt so, so stupid.
Kageyama did have a crush on someone, after all. Someone who had him acting all shy and quiet and strange.
Someone that definitely wasn't Shouyou.
He ignored the way the thought made his chest ache, instead blaming it on the cold air burning into his lungs.