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During high school, Kageyama Tobio would constantly talk about how he never really understood the motivational speeches that his coaches would give during matches. But he could remember one thing that had been said, after a match that had seemed so inconsequential now, that continued to resonate with him years later. He had spoken about monsters and how terrifying it must feel to watch the other teams from the stands. But he had also made it clear that they, themselves, were also monsters, pulling off inhuman feats of their own, creating a name for themselves. They had blazed their own trail and carved their own names in the granite that had been solidified around them from the other schools for so long. He kept that one little speech written in his wallet, leaving it folded most days when he would let his thumb rub over the paper as he calmed himself before taking the court.
He held the same folded paper in his hand now as he stared down from his spot in the stands, watching blond curls soaked with sweat sit heavy over golden eyes that looked predatory. And he let himself think about how it had been so long ago, but seeing that look of concentration brought back every taunting memory from all those years ago, as if it were only yesterday that he was fifteen and falling in love.
When the last whistle blew, the sound of a perfectly stuffed ball hitting the court still echoing in the otherwise silent gym, it felt like being transported back in time. Tsukishima didn’t hold his fist in the air, he didn’t scream, this wasn’t his volleyball moment of clarity. But the way he stood, staring through the net at the other team, it was impossible for Kageyama to feel anything but that same swell of pride in his chest. Which was followed by an even more familiar clinching of his heart, eyes following the weird line the blond had started to walk. There, in a dark suit with a bright red lanyard around his neck, stood a figure he hadn’t seen in quite some time. But the hair was unmistakable, the same dark locks sticking up at angles that defied gravity and common sense.
Hair that flounced around, refusing to adhere to the laws of physics, stood above the rest of the crowd as Kuroo Tetsurou weaved his way through the people, trying to make his way towards Tsukishima. But the eyes that are looking towards him are searching for something just beyond where he is. He turned, glancing at the stands, seeing a sea of fans but not seeing whatever Tsukishima was seeking. Even when he finally stood next to him, Kuroo was never the point of focus as he spoke. “Who are you waiting for, Tsukki?” Kuroo asked as he slid his phone back into his jacket pocket, turning to look behind him once more. He had watched
“No one…” But the way those golden eyes continued to scan the crowd that was starting to file out of the stadium behind them said otherwise. But he still waited for Tsukishima to start walking before he let his eyes slide to look at the same spot that the taller man had been staring at. It was a set of doors that a large portion of the crowd would have to use to leave the venue and if anyone had been there, that would have been where they would have had to take their leave. It was obivious that Tsukishima had been searching for someone. Kuroo just didn’t have a good idea as to who.
As long as Tsukishima could remember, Kuroo Tetsurou was a nerd. A science nerd, which was something he could appreciate and held a great deal of respect for. Except that Kuroo was the type of science nerd to equate everything he did “down to a science” as he liked to say. Which is how, as a waitress placed their drinks in front of them, he was listening to yet another monologue about the science of middle blocking. Class is always in session with Kuroo-sensei. He thought as he brought the drink to his lips.
“So you see, Tsukki, it’s all a matter of getting the right timing down. It’s simple basic math if you really think about it.” Kuroo’s hands were gesturing around the tabletop, drawing invisible math symbols in the condensation of his drink.
“So volleyball is a math equation. But middle blocking is a science.” He said it with a flat tone and an unamused stare.
“Well yeah. I mean, no. But yes.” The older man looked flustered as he tried to wipe the table clear to start over. “You know what I mean.”
Tsukishima leaned back in the booth, crossing his arms over his chest as he took in the way Kuroo looked, still dressed in his basic JVA attire. The lanyard was gone, shoved in a pocket as soon as they had left the large gym after the game, but he didn’t look any less business man than he had on the court. “This all sounds like a fancy way to convince me to do something. So how about you just come out and say it?”
Kuroo laughed as he placed his wet palm on the table, giving up on trying to recreate whatever masterpiece Tsukki hadn’t been even listening to. “Alright, fine. You got me. The JVA would like to extend an invitation to you for the National Team. I might have put in a good word for you, and they might be eagerly waiting your acceptance.”
He should have known that Kuroo’s presence wasn’t one that would bode well for him. Ever. But he couldn’t deny that the idea that all his hard work over the years were finally paying off in a way that he could actually see. It felt good. Really good. So good, in fact, the strawberry shortcake dessert he could already almost taste was gone from his mind. National Team. He thought for a moment, tilting his head to look up. What would Akiteru say if he could see me now?
The thought of telling his brother about the news snapped him back to reality, reminding him that a man who was no less excited about all his progress was still talking to him. “Kuroo-san. You didn’t need to put in a good word for me. I do believe that if the National team truly wanted someone like me, they would do it based on my merits and not on the word of some old crazy senpai who doesn’t know when to quit.”
Kuroo’s laugh had been like a hyena years ago when he had first heard it. Time did not change that sound a single bit and he felt the rush of memories from the nights spent at the camp working through drills together. The volume of his laugh, however, was much too inappropriate for the setting they were in and he hissed at the older man. “Keep it down, you animal. I swear, this is why you can’t be taken out in public.” But the smile on his face wasn’t so easily hidden behind his hand as he leaned his chin into his palm.
“Listen to you, Tsukki! Calling me senpai and everything.” Kuroo laughed again as he grabbed his drink, bringing it to his lips. The liquid sloshed around a bit as he continued to chuckle. “It wasn’t like I had much to do with it anyway. They were already scouting you. I just happened to nudge them in the right direction with some well placed video footage of some games of you in high school.”
“For the love of god, please tell me you didn’t send them the Shiratorizawa game.” Tsukishima felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Tell me, Kuroo-san. Tell me you didn’t.” It was a desperate plea that he watched fall on deaf ears.
That awful sound of his sharp laugh made Tsukishima wince. “Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you. I know you got hurt during that game and it wasn’t going to help anyone to see you out of the game for the last set. I sent them some video of you at Nationals.” Kuroo’s feral grin behind his glass, head tilted so his eyes were hooded as he stared into his soul, made him nervous. “I sent them the trash can showdown. Figured they deserved to see the very best of you.”
“You think too highly of me.” Tsukishima swallowed. He wasn’t used to praise in this manner. He had it from Akiteru in the form of overbearing. He would get it from Bokuto, and Akaashi, in the form of sincere but too boisterous to be believable. And Bokuto was still touting that because Tsukishima had beat Ushijima, Bokuto himself had bested him too. So that didn’t count. But Kuroo was too sincere and he knew the right way to push all of his buttons to make him appreciate the praise. He hated it. “It’s not like that was even a fair game.” He muttered. His cheeks were burning and it was becoming far too hot in the booth they were in. I hate this.
Kuroo just leaned across the table with his forearms. “You’re too hard on yourself, Tsukki. That was a wonderful game. And it showed all of the promise you had as a young middle blocker. Now look at you.” He sat back, waving his hand around in the air with nonchalance. “They’re talking like the Frogs are going to make it to Division 1 a lot faster than they had anticipated. I told them it’s because of the blonde squad.”
“So help me.” Tsukishima put his head in his hands, groaning. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Kuroo-san. You did not name us the blonde squad. What the hell is wrong with you.” He would have to tell Koganegawa to shave his head or something. Because he was not going to spend his volleyball career being known as part of the “blonde squad” and be lumped in with the big boned setter and Kyoutani. Kyoutani… The name made him seethe, even if they were on good terms now. He was almost loathed to consider him a friend. Ugh.
“I mean, it’s not like I came up with the name. It’s all over social media.” Kuroo sipped on his water thoughtfully. “Did you guys do it on purpose?”
“If you don’t shut up and just tell me more about this damn invitation to the JNT, I’m going to leave right now and make you pay for dinner.” Tsukishima said, staring hard at the older man.
“Dinner’s already on the JVA tonight, Tsukki.” Kuroo grinned. “So your threat is empty. But fine, I’ll give you the details. Let me get a beer first.” He waved a hand to get the attention of a waitress, his voice turning saccharine as he ordered. Ugh. How does Sawamura put up with him. Tsukishima rolled his eyes at the display.
They spent the rest of the evening running through the details, Kuroo explaining that Tsukishima would be involved in a ‘try-out’ of sorts with some of the main team and other ‘back-ups’ that they would be working through. He paused when he mentioned the names of those who would be in the compound during the training sessions.
“You know. Kageyama and Ushijima will be there.” He hesitated before he continued on, eyes watching for any reaction he might get from the younger man. “They’re starters, after all.” Kuroo’s eyes focused on the slight expression changes he expected to see.
Of course, they would be there. God, of course he would be there. And that thought had Tsukishima staring down at the glass in his hands as he thought about the way Kageyama had been standing a head above the crowd in the stands at the game. A head above the crowd only to disappear without even saying hello. Without even acknowledging that Tsukishima knew he had been there. His fist clenched on the table and he shut his eyes as he took a slow, deep breath. Of course, he thought to himself as he tried to find his disinterested composure that was starting to slip a bit.
Kuroo continued to be very animated as he continued through the list of players that were on the team, spending entirely too much time on Bokuto. He does take notice in the way the older man glosses over a name, a simple name from Tsukshima’s past that he had forgotten about, that caused him to bristle in such a minor way that he doesn’t even bother stopping Kuroo to ask about it. “I’ve only got one more person to speak to after all of this, one of your old teammates. And I’m meeting him at the airport,” Kuroo turned his arm to stare at the watch on his wrist. He squinted a bit before his eyes widened. “In a few hours, actually. I need to get out of here so I’ll make it on time.”
Tsukishima stayed for a few moments longer, after Kuroo had paid for their meal as he left. There was a flutter in his stomach, the idea that Hinata was about to be getting his own invitation to the JNT reminding him of high school and the way he had to suffer watching Hinata and Kageyama dance around each other. And the idea of having to relive all of that again, on a larger stage, with bigger stakes… Tsukishima stared at his almost empty glass and wondered if ordering a beer would even help his nerves.
Somehow, every volleyball court Kageyama stepped onto felt the same as all of the others. The only space his mind was occupied with was the court itself and that outline that marked it. Every single court felt the same but the way that the JNT slowly began to fill the bench as they got ready for their practice had him feeling off kilter for some reason.
“Tsukki!” Bokuto’s loud voice echoed off every surface in the gym and Kageyama wondered if it was possible to wear earplugs during a match. He knew the logical answer was no. He knew there would be no way to play if he wore them. But he could feel the squeak of his teeth as his jaw clenched, listening to the way Bokuto ran his mouth the entire time he was speaking to Tsukishima. “Tsukki, look at this!” He couldn’t explain it but Bokuto’s voice was only grating when he was saying Tsukishima’s name like that.
Why does he get to call him Tsukki? He had to swallow down the bitter taste from the thought. A thought that had bubbled up out of nowhere and tried to choke him. It had already been enough when Hinata had arrived, booming voice from a still rather small body. But his voice carried across the gym and despite the absolute disdain in Tsukishima’s eyes when he shouted a nickname for their high school days, there hadn’t been any pushback. Pushback that would have come in snarky comments or witty banter that would lose Hinata halfway through the conversation, earning Tsukishima a victory.
When Kuroo arrived, he felt his heart and his stomach plummet into the depths of hell. There was bright smiles, Tsukishima didn’t flinch away from a large hand clapping his shoulder and “Tsukki” was tossed around so casually that he expected to hear the blond snap back. But there was nothing. How am I supposed to even compete with that, Kageyama lamented internally. The amount of history he was watching be reunited with the way Kuroo and Bokuto were alternating probing questions about what Tsukishima had been up to, the privilege they carried as they only got the slightest twitch of the corner of Tsukishima’s mouth before getting a mere whisper of an actual smile as their conversation continued on. Seeing the three of them together bubbled hot in the agonizing pit of Kageyama’s stomach, a sinking feeling of just waiting for Akaashi to somehow burst through the doors and finish it off.
The volleyball in his hands felt like a rock, the weight of the practice starting to hit Kageyama as more people got invovled with greeting Tsukishima and Hinata. He doesn’t hear or pay attention to the way Tsukishima bristled as he greeted Suna, didn’t notice the way Hinata was glancing back and forth between him and Tsukishima. The ball he continued to hold spun against his palm as he tired to find a pocket of peace in his mind to focus on practicing, trying to drown out the noise only a few meters away. He managed it for a brief moment before the weight of the volleyball is nothing compared to the weight that was now settling on his back, his legs barely catching himself before falling, hands coming up to grab at muscled calves that were at his sides.
“What the hell?” He shouted but he didn’t make a move to push Hinata off of him, the tension in his shoulders melting away enough to relax. Carrying Hinata on his back would only make it more likely to pull something if he didn’t relax himself. “What do you think you’re doing?” He turned his head but only saw one of Hinata’s legs and he spun in a circle for a second before stopping to just… stand still. Even with everything else going on around them, at least he had his best friend here with him to ease some of the pain he felt.
“And Akaashi usually stops by with some onigiri and sushi from that one place in town,” Bokuto continued to ramble and Tsukishima just narrowly managed to avoid rolling his eyes as he feigned interest. It was the only way to keep his focus off the fact that he could see Hinata and Kageyama out of the corner of his eye reuniting like it was high school all over again and they were inseperable all over again. His focus was split between the two interactions and Kuroo had noticed enough to shake Tsukishima out of it with a laugh.
“Can’t even hold a conversation with you,” Kuroo laughed. “Your mind is already elsewhere and I’m willing to bet it’s already calculating how to stuff those spikers out there.” He didn’t have fangs but his teeth flashed like he did with a feral grin and a maniacal laugh that was barely contained. “Let’s get this game going so we can see what we’re working with.”
“Shut up, Kuroo-san.” He mumbled under his breath but it was enough for the team to begin actually warming up.
The game takes almost no time to grow in intensity, the snark from Tsukishima coming through the net at Kageyama. Every move the setter makes, the middle blocker has already shifted in anticipation, completely focused on shutting down their quick attack. Kageyama, on the other hand, can’t seem to find the right footing, cheers from the sideline and from Bokuto knocking him off his focus. There are words exchanged through the net and some of them seethe and drip with venom. The rest of the team glance between each other, silently asking amongst themselves if they should say something, do something. But there’s a hand held up, a signal to leave them be and finish the game.
“What are you waiting for, King?” Tsukishima hissed through the net, dropping his center of gravity, hands resting on the tops of his thighs. “When are you going to stop being a coward and just do it?”
Kageyama’s confusion etched into his facial expression, a comment beginning to form as the whistle blew and he had to turn his attention back to the serve that was flying over his head to the other side. Even with the old nickname that still stung years later, the only thing that stuck in his head was the question of “do what?” that he had.
As soon as the rally ended, Kageyama is positioned, waiting at the net for Tsukishima this time. But he doesn’t get his question out before the low tone of Tsukishima’s voice hisses at him again. “Hinata’s finally back so how long are you going to wait to make it official this time or are you going to let him slip away again?” The words knock the wind out of his chest and his balance seems to disappear underneath him as he tries to figure out what the hell Tsukishima is even talking about.
Let Hinata slip away again didn’t compute. There was nothing about Hinata that Kageyama had to consider him for. They had their own respective teams, their own careers that were growing, it wasn’t like Kageyama was waiting for Hinata to join him. He shifted uncomfortably as he let the thought circle in his mind. He waited for the next serve, waited for the sound of the whistle, waited for Tsukishima to be standing in front of him again, already snarling out his own question before the blond could open his mouth.
“I’m not waiting on Hinata for anything. But I bet you’re thrilled to be here, since you’ve got Bokuto and Kuroo back.” He tilted his head, turning but keeping his eyes glued on Tsukishima’s face. “Where’s Akaashi? Wouldn’t want you to miss out on having a setter that’s worthy of you.” The words land and he can see the way it flared something in Tsukishima, the next serve whistle going off and forcing them back to their positions.
What does Akaashi have to do with anything replays in Tsukishima’s mind with each step he took to block, each bend of his knees for the jump. And what the hell does he mean by worthy? He’s the asshole who had such specific sets that I keep trying to get Koganegawa to use. Fist clenched at his sides, he shifted into the next spot, waiting. Watching and waiting.
The tension sat heavy in the gym, thick enough that it felt like a dense fog that the team had to wade through. The first set flew by, easily taken by team A, Kageyama’s smug demeanor setting off something in Tsukishima. The second set went harder, longer, a back and forth battle for every single point. But Tsukishima stood proud at the net, looking down at Hinata and Kageyama with a devious half smile that made him look menacing. By the time the third set reached set point, Bokuto convinced he’d have to drag Tsukishima off the court or he might actually come to blows with Kageyama. As soon as the final whistle blew, he was grabbing for Tsukishima’s arms and pulling with what strength he had left to drag him off to the locker room.
The door slammed open, Tsukishima’s steps heavy and loud, the sound of a damp towel hitting the lockers before sliding down the only sound that fills the empty room before Tsukishima exploded.
“He hasn’t changed one bit.” It was punctuated with a growl. “He hasn’t grown a pair, still doesn’t have a spine, and he hasn’t changed one single bit.” He grabbed his towel from the floor to throw it back across to hit another locker. “He’s such an asshole.” He stopped and pointed at Bokuto. “He’s still so fucking dumb but he’s still an asshole.” He sat down heavy on the bench and kicked off a shoe. “He’s so fucking pretty and he’s just so stupid.” The other shoe followed and hit the lockers across from him. “How the hell am I supposed to sit here and compete with that… that…” His arm waved in the air towards the doors that led back out onto the court and he growled. “That literal ball of sunshine!” He yelled but the adrenaline and the anger were starting to seep from him the longer he was sitting down. “And fuck you very much, Kageyama.” His name is seethed, heavy with a mocking tone that doesn’t twist Tsukishima’s face but still hangs in the air with disdain. “Fuck you and your stupid volleyball brain and your stupid…” His hand waved again, falling into his lap as the last tendrils of anger leech into the bench. “Whatever he’s got going on with Hinata.”
Bokuto waited. His phone was sitting a few steps away and his hands were burning with the urge to grab it and text Kuroo and Akaashi, ready to finally claim the prize he had been certain of since high school. “What are you saying, Tsukki?” He asked calmly, keeping his distance but still staying close enough to make sure Tsukishima didn’t feel alone.
“He’s been stupid forever but I didn’t think…” His shoulders came up and he shrugged, not sure what words could even be found to explain everything. “You would think, after all these years, after all this time, I’d get over it.” He huffed, shoulders slumping forward. “You would think I would have learned by now.” He took a deep breath, a sigh, rolling his head from side to side to release some of the tension that was knotted up in his neck. “If he’s too dumb to make it official with Hinata, how the hell do I expect him to even look at me?”
Hinata sat down on the bench, staring out at the court as he waited for Kageyama to speak. The anger that had been in the air disapated when Tsukishima disappeared into the locker room and Kageyama hadn’t moved from where he sat once the doors closed. “Do you wanna talk?” He asked quietly, knowing that he couldn’t speak too loud or it might set Kageyama off. He braced himself for yelling and had his eyes clenched shut but the voice that came out was soft. Sad.
“He still hates me.” It was so soft that Hinata had to strain his ears to hear it. “Even after all this time, he still hates me.” His hands sit in fists against the bench, fingernails digging into his palms. “I go to some of his games, whenever I can. I think about waiting for him after the game, to talk to him.” His eyes were closed, a look of agony settling on his face. “I never do it. I don’t do it because he might hate me if I try to tell him. But not even that matters. He hates me anyway.”
Hinata’s head tilted so far to the side in confusion, he was half bent over and nearly falling off the bench as he tried to process the words that Kageyama had said. “Tell him what?”
Kageyama’s fist unclenched and he held it out, his wrist sitting on his knee as he looked at the marks in his palm. “Tell him how I feel.” He blinked a few times as he thinks about how he would do it. “Romero and Hoshiumi said I should ask him to dinner. For a date. That we need to go out.” He gave an exasperated huff. “Every time I think it would be a good time to ask him to dinner after a game, there’s always something. The last time, Kuroo had shown up so I just gave up. Hoshiumi said that’s called “not meant to be” but Romero thinks that’s bullshit.”
Hinata doesn’t have a lot of composure. He had grown, yes. He had matured over the years, even if his thirst for volleyball never waned. But his composure for not laughing at his best friend was nothing something that had grown with the rest of him and he was laughing out loud as his hand swung around to slap Kageyama’s back. There isn’t enough oxygen left in his lungs to form words but there’s a few attempts at wheezes.
“I don’t see the humor.” Kageyama gave Hinata a confused look. “Romero seemed like a completely logical source for advice.”
“No.” Hinata wheezed again, trying to catch his breath between fits of laughter. “No no.” Another wheeze. “That’s not why I’m laughing. I promise, I’m not making fun of you.” The fit of giggles he broke into made it hard to be convincing but he did his best to swallow them down and only let them shake his body as he spoke. “Romero’s right, it’s bullshit and you should ask Tsukishima out for dinner. You can even do it now, we’ve got time before we head to the village.”
Every spare moment they were free though, was spent busy with preparation. Practices that were somehow structured to keep Kageyama and Tsukishima far enough apart that they couldn’t clash together again, despite the fact that Bokuto and Hinata were watching them with sharp eyes and shared glances. Hushed conversations between sets and after practices continued to lay out plans for the first chance they could get Kageyama and Tsukishima locked in a room together to deal with their feelings and talk it all out for once.
Thankfully, Akaashi had been wise enough to give Bokuto the advice to tell them why they were being locked in together, rather than just shoving them into a room and locking the door behind them. Hinata had to agree, it made sense to tell both of them that they needed to talk their feelings out and he was buzzing with the knowledge every time he found a chance that he could just blurt it out without having to go through all the trouble. But even he couldn’t bring himself to do it in such a public setting, even if it was just with the team around them.
Travel to the Olympic Village was less thrilling than any of them had anticipated but it made sense that it didn’t feel too spectacular with it being in Tokyo, only a small trip that didn’t need to be made together as an entire team. It created a little more space, more distance, more time for Bokuto to work on Tsukishima and Hinata to give subtle hints to Kageyama. Their efforts, though, would only serve to create more divide, with Tsukishima and Kageyama seeing the other with their respective assumed partner.
“And how am I supposed to compete with that?” Kageyama asked, staring Hinata down as he pointed towards Bokuto with his arm around Tsukishima’s shoulders. “He’s proven time after time that he prefers other setters and other teammates to me. There is no way that I can ever live up to what Akaashi is to him.” Hinata’s eyes giving him a blank stare made him more upset as he growled. “Are you paying attention? I’m telling you this isn’t going to work!”
Hinata blinked himself out of the daze he had gotten lost in, unsure how to explain to Kageyama what he was seeing wasn’t what he thought it was. But subtle hints meant that he couldn’t come right out and say it so he had to get creative with the way he tried to answer. “Tsukki is less interested in Bokuto than you, it’s not like he enjoys the attention he’s getting. But if you were over there, he might be happier with the company.” Hinata’s body swayed back and forth as he tried to give as bit of a hint that he could, eyebrows wagging at Kageyama with an expectant look.
Whatever hint he had been trying to give floated off into the ether with the way Kageyama turned and looked towards Tsukishima again, head tilted slightly. “If he isn’t interested in Bokuto… but he’s allowing him to call him Tsukki and touch him…” He trailed off as he straightened up, nodding to himself. “Then maybe he’ll actually listen during the games.” He turned back to Hinata. “Less interested in Bokuto than he is with me means I might finally be able to get him to stop acting like an asshole.”
“That’s… one way to… look at it.” Hinata said slowly as he blinked, an uncomfortable smile crossing his face. “Glad you found… the upside?” His inflection turned up at the end, confused on how Kageyama could continue to be so dense but cheering the fact that at least he had gotten some of the hint.
The Olympics were a whirlwind for the players who hadn’t been there for the Rio games, leaving the more vetern players to find their sleeping quarters and get settled in for the amount of time they might be there. Despite arriving early, it felt like there had been no time at all between dropping their bags on the cardboard beds to the moment they’re stepping back onto the court, staring down the Argentina National Team. More than anything, they were staring down Oikawa. Even with Hinata bouncing around and going to greet him, the sight of Oikawa had the others bristled and on edge.
“Tobio-chan!” Oikawa’s voice carried across the court as he waved. “Great to see that you’re still on the team. I figured they might keep you around after last time.” It was almost like seeing Kageyama tense up and clench his jaw made Oikawa more bold with his words. “I won’t go easy on you today, Tobio-chan.” Even with the smile, he looked more like a villain than he did a volleyball player.
“Sure.” It was the only response Kageyama had that didn’t start an entire conversation that he was ill equipped to have, here in the middle of the court, with the game waiting on them to get staged for the beginning. He took his place standing in line, arm brushing against Tsukishima’s. He could feel the heat radiating off of the blond, could feel the rage that was coursing through his veins. He knew because he had the same feeling as he stretched his hands and massaged his wrists while the game was being announced.
Tobio-chan. Tsukishima hadn’t heard that name in years. Had forgotten what it did to him whenever he heard it in high school. He had forgotten the unbridled rage that took over him, hadn’t thought about how much he wanted to stuff a spike in Oikawa’s face. He used to imagine the look on Oikawa’s smug face as he watched a perfect set be blocked and unable to be picked up. He imagined he would look angry, twist with his own internal rage. And then… he would start making mistakes because he was mad. Every time he had imagined it, it felt even better if it was Kageyama next to him during the block, a sturdy and reliable extension to keep the net clear.
High school had been so many years ago that he knew it was childish to continue to hold on to a grudge that no one else was invested in. No one except Kageyama with the way he walked like a robot back to line up after his interaction. He could almost feel Kageyama’s anger coming off of him in waves. Good, he thought with a smirk that he had to fight back. If Kageyama was on board, Tsukishima had no problem making it his personal goal to achieve the one thing he had always wanted to do.
The game progressed with the same intensity they had from high school, a new skill level making every play feel more intricate, making the receives and serves feel like mathematical equations he was trying to solve. It was a constant game in his head that he was playing, a secondary game, but with all of the extra little things he was focusing on, he never considered one of the most simple things.
The rally hadn’t even been going on long enough but Kageyama was already staring down Oikawa through the net as his hand tipped the ball back over the net, the sound of the ball hitting the floor echoing. There were cheers from the crowd but none of that noise mattered in that moment. In the single moment when Kageyama stood tall and smirked at Oikawa. That moment when there was a hand on his shoulder and he didn’t have to turn to know that Tsukishima was standing behind him. The look on Oikawa’s face was more than enough for them, a satisfaction that they had been chasing for so long.
The rest of the game felt smooth. Smooth to the point where Tsukishima actively asked himself more than once if this was how it felt for Hinata to be in sync with Kageyama. There were moments where the ball was as fast as his thoughts and Kageyama had read his mind. He wondered a few times if he was truly predictable enough that he could be read so easily. But he looked across the court, through the net, and saw that no one else seemed to be reading him.
The rest of the match played out like a practice game, their team working together cohesively, scoring point after point, showcasing the talent they had honed throughout the years and the bond they had solidified over time. The final whistle was met with the yells of the rest of the team, including those on the bench. Even Iwaizumi seemed to be excited, big grin on his face and some laughter that Tsukishima wasn’t used to hearing. The energy of the win, especially a win over Oikawa, had him walking towards Kageyama with a purpose. Determined. This time, he was going to do it.
At least he had planned on approaching Kageyama but the setter was already halfway towards him and opening his mouth to speak even before they were in range of each other to be able to hear over the cacophany around them. He wasn’t even sure how they managed to avoid being caught by Hinata and Bokuto for celebrations but once they were within arms length, he found that he didn’t really care.
“Do you want dinner?” Kageyama’s voice was just loud enough to hear but his words felt like they were missing words. Like a whole sentence was said and Tsukishima only caught a third of it.
“Do I want dinner?” He asked, shaking his head to convince himself that he wasn’t crazy and he had actually heard Kageyama.
“Yeah. Dinner.” Kageyama’s hand came out and gestured between them. “I doubt they’re going to let us leave the village for some food but we can get something here. The food isn’t that terrible.” He paused, making a face for a moment that Tsukishima preferred to never see, before adding. “It’s not that bad. And it should be within our meal plans that Iwaizumi set up.”
“Dinner.” With Kageyama. Dinner with Kageyama in a much more private setting. “You want to get dinner?” The meal plan part was easily brushed aside because it was over. They had done it. Even with it being bronze, they had won. “That would be-”
Whatever Tsukishima was about to say was cut off with the Bokuto’s arm was thrown around him, barely able to make out the words his loud voice was yelling at him as he dragged Tsukishima towards the locker room. He didn’t notice the way Hinata had done the same thing to Kageyama, both being distracted by the erratic behavior their friends were showing, the original thoughts now lost into nothingness.
“Bokuto, what are you doing!” But it didn’t matter, Bokuto shoved him into the locker room, pulling the door closed and keeping it from being able to be open. “Bokuto I swear, if you don’t open this door!” The threat didn’t land. Tsukishima pressed his head against the door to attempt to listen for any signs of what Bokuto had planned or what the hell was going on. The sound was so muted that he stepped away and began to pace around the locker room.
The door opened again and he could hear Kageyama yelling at Hinata, fighting against the smaller man. How is Hinata doing that, he thought until he could hear Bokuto’s voice behind him and Hoshiumi’s voice cheering on whatever catastrophe was happening just beyond the wall the door was behind. “Hinata! Let me out!” Tsukishima waited, listening to the three loud pounds of a fist against the door before there was a sigh. Kageyama stepping out into the open area of the locker room caused both of them to freeze.
There was no noise, no crowd, no possibility to be interrupted or bothered. Tsukishima felt the adrenaline from before disapating quickly, leaving him feeling far more vulnerable and exposed than when he had been chasing Kageyama down to tell him how he felt, even if Hinata was here. Kageyama seemed to be feeling the same apprehension but seemed to stop himself from backing himself back into the corner by the door.
“What do you think all this shit is about?” Kageyama asked and Tsukishima’s eyebrows shot up and he gave a weak shrug.
“Was hoping you could tell me what the hell is going on.” He moved around the locker room to sit on a bench, eyeing a small piece of paper that was attached to his particular locker. “And what the hell is that?”
Kageyama was already moving, still standing but not pacing like Tsukishima had. “The only thing it says on here is just tell him how you feel, idiot and,” he paused as he held the paper closer to his face, squinting at the ink. “I think Hinata and Bokuto signed this?” He reached out and handed the small note to Tsukishima, sitting down on the bench across from him. “What do you think it means?”
“That asshole.” Tsukishima crumpled the paper in his hand, clenching his fist hard enough to crush the paper into a small pebble. “They’re telling me to just tell you-” He stopped short but there was no taking back the words that were already hanging in the air between them. “That… I…” He thought about it for a second, closing his eyes and considering whether or not they would be able to convince Hinata and Bokuto to let them out if he stopped talking now. Highly doubtful, he concluded and he groaned. “To tell you that I like you and have since high school.” Maybe it would be as easy as just admitting it out loud so they could be let out and he wouldn’t have to deal with this again.
“Why would they make you tell me that?” Kageyama asked, face turned up in a confused scowl. “Hinata’s the one who has been telling me that I need to just ask you out for dinner. I don’t even think that he meant for me to tell you how I’ve felt but if that’s part of the whole plan.” He brought his hands up in a shrug that was more his hands waving in front of him. “I guess I have to do that too then.”
The admission from Kageyama felt like a punch to his chest and Tsukishima nearly choked on air and his own spit. “You have to do what? Tell me how you feel?” He looked back and forth from the direction of the door to Kageyama’s face. “Is this some prank that they’ve put you up to?” It would surprise him but it also wouldn’t be something he would think they were capable of. “If they’ve got you pranking me-”
“No.” Kageyama’s hand came up and he held it out to stop Tsukishima from speaking. “No. They aren’t having me prank you. Hinata was sick of hearing me talk about you. Romero had told me to ask you to dinner. Hoshiumi has been… much less help than the others but he is in agreement that I needed to just tell you finally.” He gave the flattest smile Tsukishima had ever seen. “I have a note for you but I don’t have it here with me. I guess I don’t even need it now.”
Tsukishima’s head went to his hands and his eyes were wide as he stared at the floor. “So those idiots knew the whole time and decided that instead of talking to us, like adults,” he yelled as he turned to look towards the door. He knew they weren’t standing there anymore. At least he hoped they weren’t standing there anymore because that would be creepy and weird. But it was so on brand for them that he wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to open the door and they were standing there. “They decided to throw us in here and lock the door until we… what?” The frustration was starting to build, even with the tentative, fearful hope that Kageyama was actually not bluffing. “Hoping that we would just confess and make out or something?”
“Do you want to do that?” Kageyama asked, slightly taken aback but never giving any inclination that he was against the idea. “We can. That’s fine. I don’t know how this thing is supposed to go.”
It was the earnest way that Kageyama was willing, offering, ready to just randomly start making out like teenagers in a locker room because they found out they both liked each other, it reminded Tsukishima that he had a single brain cell that was only a volleyball and nothing else. “No, we’re not making out in the locker room.” His face turned to its usual stoic, disapproving face, the one that he wore whenever he had to deal with the nonsense of his friends. “I will kiss you but that’s it.” His finger pointed across, almost able to reach Kageyama’s chest and he thought about leaning forward to close the gap. Not yet. Just because they confessed didn’t mean that this was a good idea.
“Hoshiumi warned me about kissing on the first date. Does that count if we kiss now and then we don’t do it after dinner?” Kageyama’s voice was genuine and it made Tsukishima curl his hands into fists, trying to swallow down the frustrated yell that was threatening to tear out of his throat.
“Just… get over here, you asshole.” He leaned forward the last small bit of distance and gripped Kageyama’s jersey, twisting it in his fist and tugging hard. Kageyama fell forward with all the grace that a man over 180 cm could have. There was no other option than to stand them both up and get their feet under them to keep steady as Tsukishima crashed their lips together. One brain cell and it’s still just a fucking volleyball. The kiss wasn’t sloppy but it was slow before they found a way to fit together and finally melt against each other.