Chapter Text

falling:

falling into you means falling out of my solitude

august 2004
sakusa, age eight
hinata, age eight

Sakusa Kiyoomi doesn’t like the sun.

The sun is cruel, harsh, and if unprepared, can even leave burns on one’s skin. Sakusa learned that lesson the hard way after a day at an Okinawan beach, when he was at his grandmother’s for the summer. His parents were busy at work and his siblings were old enough to look after themselves but not old enough to look after a six year old child.

“I told you to put on sunscreen but you didn’t listen.” His grandmother gently chastises that evening. She carefully applies aloe vera to the angered areas of her youngest grandchild’s skin, ignoring the pained winces he makes. “You have been blessed to be born with a healthy body and it is your duty to look after it. You cannot be careless with it,” she tells him and presses a light kiss to his forehead.

Eventually, his skin stops peeling and it hurts less to move around and that’s when the young boy makes a silent promise to himself. He vows that he will always protect his body from external forces that threaten it, be it bacteria or anything else.

He will never be unprepared to face the sun again.

Or so he thinks.

On a cool Thursday evening, two years later, Sakusa follows behind his cousin, silently wishing he could spend his evening in the comfort of his own home. To do what? Sakusa doesn’t know himself, but it beats being at some smelly gymnasium. It’s not that Sakusa dislikes Komori’s company - in fact he’s the most tolerable out of all his intolerable cousins - but it’s not as if he enjoys his company either. The single commonality between them is their age and that’s the only reason why their parents decided to burden them with each other. 

It’s times like these that Sakusa wishes he were older. Then he can come home on his own instead of being collected, he can work the kitchen stove and cook a simple meal for himself instead of needing someone to cook for him, and most importantly, he can be alone and no one can think him odd for being content with his own company. Teenagers and adults get away with it, but for some reason unknown to Sakusa, children who want to be alone is a notion unheard of.

Now Sakusa doesn’t really know what volleyball is, only that Komori started to attend an after school club with his neighbour every Tuesday and Thursday. And between joining him or spending the evening with Komori’s younger siblings, the choice is clear for Sakusa.

“Don’t worry about being bad at it, we’re all beginners here,” Komori says, the two of them standing in the doorway of the gym. The atmosphere is filled with sounds of bouncing balls, skidding sneakers, and spirited shouts of encouragement between the club members. Sakusa remains wordless and unmoved. Nothing about the scene in front of him stirs excitement or intrigue. Not until the sun comes into view. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi is eight years old when he learns that words can have multiple meanings. Eight years old when he learns that the word sun also means his cousin’s next door neighbour. Eight years old when he meets Hinata Shouyou.

The boy with clementine hair soars through the air with sunshine for a smile. His arm is poised, he swings, he hits… and it’s out and the ball rolls towards the door, towards Sakusa. It’s out and Sakusa expects that he will get upset that he couldn’t land it in or even blame his teammate as children often do, but that’s not what happens.

Instead, the boy lets out a cry of victory, as if his hit hasn’t just been called out. He raises his fist high in the air. “I hit it! I finally hit it!” 

Komori laughs lightly, causing Sakusa to look at him. “Shou-chan’s been practising hitting in mid-air for a few weeks now and he usually mistimes his swing or his jump,” he explains, as if Sakusa is supposed to understand the technicalities of volleyball. Then Komori leaves Sakusa’s side to congratulate Hinata personally, ruffling his orange hair on approach.

Sakusa picks up the ball that Hinata had hit and tosses it between his hands lightly, familiarising himself with the weight and feel of the ball. 

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” Sakusa looks up from his hands and sees the sun approach him. He manages a single stiff nod. “Motoya-senpai’s cousin, right?” Another nod. “I’m his next door neighbour! My name’s Hinata Shouyou, what’s your name?”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

Hinata gasps, his eyes sparkling. “That’s such a cool name! Ki-yoo-mi ,” he says, testing the name in his mouth. Sakusa blinks. It’s the first time someone has complimented him on his name. He doesn’t think it’s all that special, or at least, not as cool as Hinata was making it out to be. “Can I call you Kiyoomi? You can call me Shouyou if you want!”

It takes a moment for Sakusa to respond. He’s confused, shocked almost. He’s never had someone be so excited over his name. “Why?” He asks.

Hinata turns and tilts his head in a manner that reminds Sakusa of a puppy. A puppy that doesn’t understand what was asked of them. “Well, we’re friends now, right?”

“Friends,” Sakusa repeats. The word sits uncomfortably in his mouth from lack of use. He doesn’t understand what constitutes a friend but he’s certain that it’s not a stranger whom he’s exchanged a mere handful of sentences with. “We’ve only just met,” he points out. “We’re strangers.”

Then Hinata smiles fondly, stirring something unknown and unfamiliar in Sakusa’s chest. “Every friend starts off as a stranger! I mean, everyone’s a stranger until you give them a chance, right?” Hinata then shrugs and takes out a handkerchief, printed with small cartoon onigiris, from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his brow before folding it and putting it back in his pocket. It doesn’t escape Sakusa’s notice. “Or at least that’s what my mom tells me. Besides, we’re not strangers anymore. You know my name and I know yours.”

Sakusa narrows his eyes skeptically at the earnest boy in front of him. It can’t be that easy to make a friend, can it? He has tried and failed and others have tried and failed and it never seems to go anywhere. Sakusa is too quiet, too comfortable with being alone, too much and yet not enough to be a candidate for friendship. No, it’s not easy to make friends, but maybe it can be easy with Hinata.

“I’ve never had a friend before,” Sakusa mumbles, casting his eyes downwards to the floor, bringing his attention to the dirt stains on his shoelaces - he makes a mental note to soak and clean them later. He doesn’t notice how tightly he grips the ball and how tense his body is until Hinata is at his side, on the tips of his toes, throwing his arm around Sakusa’s shoulders. 

“As long as you have me, Kiyoomi, you will always have a friend!” Hinata declares. His chest puffs out proudly and there’s a self-assured grin on his face, like a knight in one of the fantasy books that Sakusa reads - and maybe he is a knight, Sakusa could believe it.

The older boy finds himself nodding once more. “Okay,” he murmurs, “friends.”

Hinata grins and removes his arm from Sakusa’s shoulders. “Have you played volleyball before?” He shakes his head. “That’s alright, I’ll teach you!” Then Hinata chuckles nervously and looks down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers. “Though I don’t think I’ll be a very good teacher, I only just learned how to hit the ball today.”

“I guess that means we can learn together.”

Hinata looks up at Sakusa, his amber doe eyes sparkling at his words. “Do you mean it? Does that mean you’ll join the club?!”

Sakusa hesitates. Maybe he should tell Hinata that this club is supposed to be just a one-time thing. He doesn’t want to go through the mortifying ordeal of getting sweaty on purpose with other children who don’t have the same respect towards hygiene as he does. He already does that at school and now after school? No, Sakusa doesn’t think so.

But the young boy in front of him waits patiently for an answer and well, never let it be said that Sakusa Kiyoomi left anything unfinished. It’s not as if he has anything better to do anyway.

“Yeah, I’ll join the club… Shouyou.” His defences weaken and a small smile slips onto his lips without his permission. Is this Hinata’s influence?

From the smile Hinata gives him, Sakusa learns that evening that the sun doesn’t need a moon to shine at night. 

🏐

Months pass since that Thursday evening and now Hinata and Sakusa are permanent fixtures at each other’s sides, and where the two of them are, Komori is not far behind. Though they’re separated by grades in school, their common ground is the volleyball club. Having joined the club, Sakusa spends more time at his cousin’s house - and that really means at Hinata’s house - and he finds himself looking forward to visiting each time. Excitement. It’s a new feeling but Sakusa isn’t unwelcome to it.

However, this time what he feels is dread. Because this time, it’s not him visiting them, but them visiting him. And not just a visit, but a sleepover. It feels personal and real and Sakusa, for all the books he reads and the vocabulary available to an eight year old, can only describe it as allowing someone into your bubble.

“Ojamashimasu,” Hinata and Komori say as they enter the Sakusa residence, removing their shoes at the entrance.

“Whoa! Your house is so big, Kiyoomi!” His voice echoes and Hinata slaps his hand over his mouth, realising how loud he was. “What do your parents do for work?” He asks, his voice now at a more reasonable volume, dropping his hand from his mouth.

“My mother is a paediatrician and my father owns a pharmaceutical company,” Sakusa explains as he leads them towards his bedroom, which used to be his eldest brother’s room until he got married a year ago. “I have three older siblings, two of them have already moved out and the other is in her final year of high school and will be moving out for college.” They pass Sakusa’s sister’s bedroom. “She’s at a friend’s house tonight, she won’t be bothering us.” 

“Wait… That means there’s about a nine year difference between you and your next closest sibling!” Hinata exclaims, the shock evident on his face. Then he frowns. “Sounds like you were lonely growing up.”

“I was.”

Komori tries not to wince at those two simple words. His home life is different. He’s in the middle of his siblings, two older and two younger, with his oldest sibling being only three years older than him. He once thought being forced to spend time with Sakusa is a burden. It’s not until Hinata came along that Komori really took the time to get to know his cousin. 

“Well you’ve got us now,” says Komori, throwing an arm around Sakusa who narrows his eyes dangerously at him for the physical contact. He never does that for Hinata , Komori thinks, but then again, Hinata is different. He laughs lightly as he raises his arms in surrender. “What are we doing first then? Should we put on a movie?”

Hinata gasps. “We should make a blanket fort! We can watch a movie under it and bring all the toys underneath and then we can sleep there tonight!”

Komori sighs and shakes his head. “That’ll make a lot of mess and Sakusa doesn’t like mess-”

“Let’s do it,” interrupts Sakusa and while Hinata shouts for joy, Komori swears he can see the tiniest of stars in his cousin’s eyes. Stars that Hinata put there. 

An hour passes before the three boys successfully put up their blanket fort. Three futons are spread across the floor, accompanied with several cartoon-printed blankets, pillows, and plush toys facing the small television. Upon Sakusa’s insistence for some semblance of organisation, there’s a designated snack corner where juice boxes and a variety of sweets and potato chips temporarily reside. 

“So who’s getting what futon?” Hinata asks. It’s the polite way of asking, who is sleeping in the middle? since both Hinata and Komori know that Sakusa has silently called dibs on an outside futon.

Komori glances over to his cousin. He notices a slight redness in his cheeks. Is that a blush? Komori tries not to grin too obviously. He picks up his bag and tosses it on the other outside futon, sealing Hinata’s fate. “I’ll take this one! I want the extra space to play with my action figures and I don’t want to trip over either of you if I need the bathroom in the middle of the night.”

“That’s fine with me!” Hinata says, and as he moves his things beside the middle futon, Komori spies a very subtle relieved smile on Sakusa’s face. 

Komori knows it’s not because Sakusa dislikes him - and he knows this because he asked Sakusa before - but simply because he likes Hinata more , and really, Komori can’t blame him. Especially because he likes Hinata more than his cousin too. 

When the next morning comes, Komori is the first one awake. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes with the palm of his hand as he sits up, yawning all the while. He looks over to his side to check if either of his best friends are awake yet but is greeted with a surprising sight. He blinks several times and rubs his eyes again just to make sure it isn’t some imagined scene in front of him.

Under Hinata’s chibi bird blanket, he and Sakusa are snuggled together, both curled up as they face each other, their pinky fingers overlapping as if they swore a promise to each other in their sleep. Some time in the middle of the night, either Hinata or Sakusa - Komori bets on the latter - must have consciously moved to be closer to the other. Or perhaps, one naturally rolled over in his sleep to be nearer to the other, and though Komori believes this to be unlikely, it isn’t impossible. 

Only months ago did Komori think that Sakusa was a burden, and now, he’s not just his cousin, but one of his dearest friends. So really, anything seems possible when Hinata Shouyou is considered in the equation. 

Komori considers waking them up, but before he decides anything, he hears the unmistakable sound of a camera flash from the bedroom door. He looks over and sees his aunt, Sakusa Sayuri, leaning against the open door frame, a fond smile on her face as she lowers the camera, taking out the photograph and tucking it into her apron pocket to allow it to develop in the dark. She makes eye-contact with her nephew and wordlessly puts her index finger up to her lips. Komori nods once. She smiles again and beckons for him to follow her. He obediently gets to his feet and follows her out of the bedroom, the door closing behind him with a soft click, and walks down the stairs into the kitchen.

“Come and help me prepare breakfast,” is all she says as she sets the camera down on the kitchen island and takes the photograph out of her apron, putting it down on the side. Komori joins her and they silently prepare the food.

Despite having a child-focused career, Komori has never heard Sayuri say more than a couple of sentences at once to him or any of his other relatives. The same goes for his uncle, Sakusa Ryota, man of few words whose philosophy is, “ If you cannot say what you mean as simply as you can, then it is not worth being said. ” Komori doesn’t really understand what is meant by that but he wonders what it’s like for Sakusa, growing up in such an environment. 

He imagines it’s quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that causes a ringing in one’s ear from overexposure to silence. The kind of quiet that’s so loud, even voicing your thoughts aloud becomes muted speech, so it’s safer to leave one’s thoughts in the haven of their mind. Maybe that’s why Sakusa winces every time Komori’s younger siblings laugh and shout, or why he keeps to himself and stays in the corner of each room they’re in unless it’s his own. Maybe it’s self-preservation. 

At least, that’s what it was until Hinata came along, coming into Sakusa’s life like the sun after a long night. 

“He’s different, isn’t he?”

Komori almost drops the egg in his hands from the sudden break in silence. He turns to look at his aunt who keeps her attention focused on the frying pan. Komori can’t tell whether she’s asking if Sakusa is the one who has changed and is different, or if she’s asking if Hinata is different from them. 

At any rate, Komori’s answer is the same so it doesn’t matter whom she was asking after. He looks towards the fully-developed photograph of Sakusa and Hinata sleeping together under the same blanket, their pinkies overlapped in a promise made in their dreams. Komori smiles as he answers, “Yes, he is.”

april 2005
sakusa, age nine
hinata, age eight

“You can’t be a wing spiker, you’re too short,” Rin says, folding his arms. Two boys flank him, standing behind him and nodding in agreement. Classic three versus one. Hinata sits on the floor cross-legged, quietly spinning a volleyball in his hands while he waits for Komori and Sakusa to arrive at the club. His back faces the three boys. It’s not until Rin speaks up again that Hinata turns around, realising that he is the one being addressed. “Oi, I’m talking to you. You’re too short to be a wing spiker, Hinata.”

Hinata tilts his head in confusion. “I still have lots of time to grow. And I can jump,” he points out innocently.

“Well, yeah, but you’re still the shortest here. And you can’t jump all the time,” Rin retorts. Again, the two boys behind him silently agree, nodding along to his words. “Besides, the pro teams always choose the tallest players.”

“But just because you’re tall doesn’t mean you’re any good...?” Eavesdroppers around them hear and gasp and Hinata doesn’t understand why. He’s only stating the facts? He’s not trying to pick a fight with anyone, like Rin is obviously trying to do with him. “I mean, yeah obviously height is important but it’s not the only thing that counts in volleyball.”

“You can work as hard as you want, Hinata, but at the end of the day, no one will pick you. And if no one picks you, you can’t be the ace.” The henchmen behind Rin jeer at their leader’s words. “You would be better off as a libero, but Komori-senpai is better than you at receiving. Really, there’s no place for you, so what are you still doing here?”

Hinata looks up at them, eyes shiny from tears that threaten to spill over. He pushes himself to his feet and tries to say something but finds himself wordless. What can he say? Deep down, he knows it’s true, that if he is put next to a tall player with the same skillset as his, the latter would be chosen over him. He hates knowing this truth. He wants nothing more than to prove that this truth is lie.

“What are you still doing here, Nakagawa?”

Everyone looks to the source of the voice. Sakusa Kiyoomi. His face is thunderous and his fists are curled at his sides. Each step he takes seems to shake the ground - well, to eight and nine year olds at least.

“Sakusa-senpai! Well you see--”

“No.” That shuts Rin up.

“What’s going on here?” Komori asks, noticing the tense atmosphere as he enters the gym. He looks at the scene in front of him. Rin, the annoying, self-appointed ace of the club, his goons, Hinata looking as if he’s about to cry, and Sakusa looking too murderous for a boy his age.

“I overheard Bakagawa saying how there’s no place for Shouyou,” Sakusa explains curtly and Komori nods in understanding. Of course he would happily join Sakusa’s side and protect Hinata, but something tells Komori that his cousin has it all handled. Plus, he knows that people respect Sakusa more. Well, maybe fear is more fitting than respect. And he would rather watch Sakusa verbally rip into them.

“It’s Nakagawa, not Ba--”

“Bakagawa,” Sakusa deadpans. Rin shuts up again, then flinches when Sakusa takes a step towards him. “You talk big for someone who can’t pick a fight without having his idiots back him up. How lame.”

One of the idiots bristles at that and starts to speak up. “Who do you think you ar--”

“You can understand Japanese? That’s great, and here I thought you were some mindless ape that only does what his master tells him. Anyway, I’m not talking to you, ape, I’m talking to your owner--”

“Kiyoomi, that’s mean,” Hinata pipes up, forcing everyone’s attention on him. He sniffles and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand before looking at Rin and his friends, his head tilting to the side. “You shouldn’t say such mean things about apes, they’re actually smart animals unlike… well…” Hinata trails off and everyone catches his meaning, snickering behind their hands. Sakusa smirks and Komori grins. That’s their Shouyou.

Rin’s face grows in redness and he breathes sharply through his nose. “Let’s leave!” He tells his goons but Sakusa lifts his hand up, stopping them.

“No, we’ll leave. If Shouyou doesn’t have a place here, then neither do I.”

“And me too,” Komori adds, joining Sakusa’s side, protectively sandwiching Hinata between them. Before anyone could protest, they walked out of the gymnasium together. Thankfully, Komori’s parents, Aika and Ryuji, are still chatting to another pair of parents in the foyer and are surprised to see the three walk towards them. They don’t tell them much, only that they’re not really feeling volleyball that night. When Aika looks at the glossiness of Hinata’s eyes, she doesn’t question them further and takes them back home. 

After getting permission from Sakusa Sayuri and Hinata Mirai, the three boys have an impromptu sleepover in the Komori household. 

“Motoya-senpai, why are you a libero?” Hinata asks through the dark of the night. The three of them lay side by side, Hinata in the middle as always, as they stare up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on Komori’s bedroom ceiling.

“Because I want to be.”

Hinata isn’t satisfied with that answer and he squirms in his blanket. “But you’re so good, you could play any position. Why libero?”

“Well, why do you want to be an ace?” Komori returns the question.

“Because it’s cool. I want to be like the Little Giant from Karasuno, to defeat players taller than me,” answers Hinata without hesitation.

“And I want to be a libero because I think it’s cool. Everyone else can worry about spiking, but you can’t spike unless you have someone receive the ball. Volleyball only starts with the receive.”

Hinata stays quiet as he mulls over Komori’s words. Is it that simple? To just be something because you want to? There doesn’t need to be another reason for it? 

“I’ll be back in a minute, I need to pee,” Komori excuses himself, throwing the blanket off and running out of the bathroom, squeezing his legs together awkwardly in that fashion that everyone does when they suddenly become desperate.

Hinata is prepared to sleep when he feels Sakusa poke his arm. “Do you think the Little Giant from Karasuno became the Little Giant because people told him that he could?” Sakusa asks quietly. “No, he was probably told the same thing, that he’s too short. And yet he went to Nationals.”

“What are you saying, Kiyoomi?”

“No one chooses an easy dream, Shouyou, that’s why it’s called a dream.”

Silence blankets the two young boys. Hinata moves closer to Kiyoomi and lays on his front, half on Sakusa and half on the futon, his arm settles on his chest while his head lays on Sakusa’s collarbone. The older boy instinctively wraps one arm around Hinata, pulling him closer into a hug.

“I want to see it… I want to see past over the wall, I want to see the view from the top. I want to stand on the world stage,” Hinata murmurs against Sakusa’s shirt, “but I can’t do it alone. Will you help me see it, Kiyoomi? Will you stand with me?”

Yes , Sakusa thinks, anything for you . 

“Always.”

By the time Komori comes back from the bathroom, his two best friends are fast asleep together. He may not know what a third wheel is yet, but he feels the same sickly sweet feeling building in the back of his throat when he sees his parents being all lovey-dovey. He rolls his eyes and grabs his blanket off the floor before jumping into his bed.

march 2008
sakusa, age twelve
hinata, age eleven

“Promise you won’t forget me, Kiyoomi.”

Sakusa raises his eyebrows, surprised by the sudden request for a heavy promise. Hinata usually leaves important conversations for a more private setting, such as their bedrooms, but here they are, walking along the riverside of Ueno Park on their way home from school, people passing them left, right and centre. If Hinata couldn’t wait to talk to Sakusa at home, then it means it’s been weighing on his mind all day. 

“As if you would ever let me forget you,” he tells him.

Hinata ignores that. “Promise me.” He stops walking, despite the constant flow of passersby, and holds up his pinky finger.

Sakusa stares at the little finger in front of his face for a moment before pushing it away. He doesn’t need to promise because it will never happen. “Why are you asking me this, Shouyou?” 

The younger boy’s lips curl in a tight pout and he walks away from Sakusa to sit on a riverside bench. Sakusa follows and sits down next to him. Silence follows but it’s not the kind of silence he grew up with. Sakusa likes this silence because he knows that Hinata will eventually end it. It’s just a matter of when. 

They sit under the sakura trees, its flowers almost ready to bloom for hanami, which, according to the weather bureau, is due to happen in a week. Paper lanterns are placed in the trees for yozakura , to illuminate the flowers at night for viewing. Ahead of them, Shinobazuno pond is full of two-man boats of tourists, both local and international. Amidst the sound of paddled water, the chatter of people around them, and the general white noise of the city, it’s oddly quiet, peaceful even. Sakusa wonders why he’s never noticed it before. Why is it so different now?

Sakusa looks to his left and finds his answer. Of course, he thinks. He only started seeing the world differently when he met the sun. 

“You know, it’s never bothered me before, you and me being in separate grades because we always found each other during breaks and also the volleyball club after school but…” Hinata trails off, becoming unusually quiet, but Sakusa doesn’t need him to finish his sentence. He knows what he’s trying to say.

“Is this about me and Komori going to middle school?”

Hinata tries not to wince but his lack of emotional restraint betrays him. “No! I mean, kind of… what if you find a better volleyball player than me… or who someone can spike a ball better than me…”

“Shouyou, I can spike a volleyball better than you can.” Hinata’s mouth drops open in disbelief. He’s prepared to make some sort of retort, then Sakusa continues on. “Besides, it’s only a year. And it’s not as if you’ll never see us again.”

“Well, I’ll see Motoya-senpai anyway, since we live next to each other and all, so it’s not him I’m worried about…” Hinata fiddles with the strap of his bag. “What if you stop playing volleyball and find something cooler to do instead?”

What if you stop being my friend and find someone better instead? is the real question that Hinata leaves unasked.

Sakusa holds back a laugh. His earlier remark is incorrect because it’s not a matter of Hinata letting Sakusa forget him. As if he could ever forget his first friend, and outside of Komori, his only friend. No, Hinata shouldn’t have to worry about his position in Sakusa’s life. If anyone should be concerned over their place, it should be Sakusa. Hinata has a talent for befriending strangers, even the most unapproachable ones (Exhibit A: Sakusa himself). What if he finds someone better than Sakusa? Perhaps not better than Sakusa , that’s phrased wrong, but someone better for Hinata. 

He sighs and tentatively reaches out for Hinata’s hand with his little finger, locking their pinkies together and letting their joint hands rest on the bench. His best friend looks up at him with wide eyes and Sakusa can’t blame him for the surprise. He has no issues with Hinata touching him, but he seldom initiates physical contact himself.

“I won’t stop playing volleyball.” Sakusa pauses. “And I won’t stop being your friend, which is what you’re actually concerned about.”

Hinata laughs weakly, a blush forming on his round cheeks. Sakusa wonders what they would feel like if he just poked them. “I wasn’t very subtle, was I?” 

Sakusa shakes his head and squeezes their pinkies together. “No, you really aren’t, but it’s okay. My only condition is that you won’t stop being my friend either.”

The orange-haired boy loosens his pinky so he can adjust his grip, fully holding Sakusa’s hand in his. He inches closer to his best friend, resting his head on his shoulder. “Kiyoomi, do you remember what I said when we first met?”

Oh... how could he forget?

As long as you have me, you will always have a friend.

Sakusa rests his head against Hinata’s. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Then you don’t have to worry.”

Sakusa smiles softly.

june 2008
sakusa, age twelve
hinata, age twelve

Sakusa’s first months at Dosho Middle School pass by quietly but not alone. He and Komori are in the same class and depending on the day, Sakusa considers it either a blessing or a curse. On Tuesdays and Fridays, it’s both. Komori has his own group of friends and sometimes, if his social battery is fully charged, Sakusa joins them during lunches and breaks. His cousin isn’t joined to his hip but he isn’t too far away; far enough for comfortable space, close enough to remind him he’s not alone. Sakusa is grateful for Komori’s thoughtfulness.

Together, they join the volleyball club. Sakusa’s talent is first recognised during their first spike and receiving drills, when it was (literally) pointed out how it’s the snap from his unusually flexible wrists which gives the ball a sharp spin, making it difficult for even Dosho’s official libero to receive. Still, even that isn’t enough to secure Sakusa a position on the starting lineup for the middle school regional competition, since he can’t quite control it yet. Half the time, the ball appears to be within bounds, only for it to suddenly veer off-course and out of bounds at the last second. 

For Sakusa to be part of the starting lineup, he needs to gain increased control.

This frustration is a new feeling, one that sends Sakusa’s blood boiling. He spends solo practices doing serve and receive drills with Komori and when he’s tired of Komori failing to receive his serves, he does wall drills and solo serves. Sakusa, and by association, Komori are usually the last ones left in the gymnasium. The former won’t stop, not even at the behest of the coaches or the captain, until he’s finished his self-set amount of tosses, spikes, or serves. It’s times like these that Komori wishes he had Hinata’s ability to influence Sakusa because nothing he says can persuade his cousin to stop. That said, Komori thinks that Hinata won’t stop him either, but would join him instead. They’re both monsters who don’t know when to stop.

One day in late June, Dosho’s gymnasium falls silent when the sound of a ball smacking the hardwood floor within bounds of the court rings throughout the hall. The team remains silent, they’re not about to cheer for a fluke. They watch, serve after serve, each one on target (some which are untouched) and after the tenth service ace, they applaud and cheer for Sakusa. 

“This time, this time for sure we’ll beat Shiratorizawa! We’ll beat that Ushiwaka!” Kamiya, one of Sakusa’s upperclassmen says, determination burning in his eyes. Shiratorizawa? Ushiwaka? Sakusa gathers that the former is a school, a strong one if Kamiya’s reaction is anything to go by, and the latter is a player, but it’s not until he asks Komori later on that he better understands.

Komori pushes the ball trolley into the store cupboard as he answers. “A powerhouse school in Sendai. Both the middle school and the high school teams are the number one teams for their level in Miyagi.” They walk out and Komori locks the door behind them. “Ushiwaka is Ushijima Wakatoshi, a southpaw wing spiker who’s a year older than us. They call him the ‘Young Giant.’”

“A southpaw… let me guess, it’s the spin he puts on the ball that makes him formidable.”

Komori shrugs. “Apparently, but the way our upperclassmen talk about him tells me that there’s more to him than just being a southpaw. We won’t know until we face them.”

“I look forward to it.”

august 2008

The All Japan Middle School Volleyball Tournament is held in late August. Dosho won their qualifiers back in July, securing one of the three spots as Tokyo’s representative, with Ushimi and Mori Middle School as the other two. It’s the third day of the tournament, which, Sakusa now learns, is the worst day of all. Why would they make them play two games on the same day? It’s asinine, he thinks.

They already played Seiho in the morning, beating them in straight sets. Just by the luck of the draw, they’re matched against Ushimi in the afternoon and if they win, they play Shiratorizawa in the quarterfinals tomorrow. Sakusa can feel his fingers itching for a ball - is this how Hinata feels all the time? - just to touch it, to hold it in his hands to sate his adrenaline. He’s never felt this excited about playing before, especially against someone whom he’s only heard of through rumours. Just who is this Ushiwaka? What makes him special? One more day and he’ll find out.

“I’ll be cheering for you, Kiyoomi and Motoya-senpai!” Hinata beams up at them, his smile bright as ever.

Komori grins back and he reaches for Hinata’s hair, ruffling it affectionately. “You better. I expect to hear you from the stands, Shou-chan!”

Hinata salutes, taking it as if it’s a personal mission. “Of course, Motoya-senpai!”

“You better give him something to cheer for, if you do those shoddy receives from before then…” Sakusa trails off. His tone is blunt and bland and to the untrained ear, he sounds mean, but both Hinata and Komori know better. They know that it’s Sakusa’s version of teasing. He’s in a good mood, Komori thinks.

“Well you better get your serves and spikes on target… wouldn’t want to get benched so you could cool your head like the last game…” Komori grins devilishly, earning him a cold glare from his cousin. 

Sakusa is about to make another snarky comment in return but Hinata, the darling angel he is, intervenes by physically stepping in between them. “Carry on like this and I’ll cheer for the other team!” He threatens and that shuts them up. Hinata grins and Komori rolls his eyes fondly. If Hinata never made an appearance in their lives, he would have missed out on all of this.

Their captain calls them back to the court as the game before theirs is five points away from finishing. They say their temporary goodbyes and part ways. 

Hinata decides to go to the bathroom before he heads to the spectator stands, he doesn’t want to miss a single moment of the game simply because of his weak bladder. He makes his way towards the bathroom… or at least he would if he actually knew where it was. Hinata tries to find a sign to point him in the right direction but there’s too many people and too many of them are too tall and the venue is too big. Argh! He should have brought one of his friends with him so he wouldn’t be alone! At least they would be lost together rather than just lost on his own. How pathetic...

“Are you looking for something? Or someone?” Hinata whips around to see who interrupts his thoughts. A potential saviour sent to guide him perhaps?

The boy is as tall as Motoya-senpai, with messy black hair and gunmetal blue eyes, wearing a jersey with a bold number two in the centre, and his cheeks are slightly red and shiny, as if he’s been sweating. Ah, his game must have finished, Hinata realises. But it’s not the game before Dosho’s - the leading team has five points until they win the game and the tables can easily turn. Plus, this boy came from the other court. He wonders if they won. Perhaps not, considering that the boy doesn’t seem overly enthusiastic or happy. Or maybe he’s like Kiyoomi, doesn’t really show how he feels on the outside?

“I can’t find the bathroom…” Hinata admits, almost sheepishly.

The boy raises his eyebrows. “How good are you with directions?”

Hinata straightens his stance. “Well, I would say I’m good with them but Kiyoomi and Motoya-senpai probably wouldn’t agree.”

The boy nods once and replies, “I only ask so I know whether to show you myself or simply just give you directions.” He turns to one of his passing teammates and tells them that he’ll be along shortly, that he just needs the bathroom, before turning back to Hinata. “Follow me.” And Hinata does.

“Thank you…?” Hinata trails off, upon realising he doesn’t know his saviour’s name.

“Akaashi Keiji,” he supplies helpfully. “From Mori Middle School.”

“I’m Hinata Shouyou! Thank you, Akaashi-san, you’re so nice and kind, I owe you one!” The older boy looks surprised by the sudden outburst of praise from a stranger. Then his face softens by the slight upturn in the corner of his mouth. Is that a smile? Hinata wonders. 

“You don’t owe me anything, Hinata-kun.”

“I’ll help you out one day! I swear it!”

“Alright then. One day.” Akaashi plays along because, well, he’s never met anyone quite like Hinata before. Most normal people would be wary of strangers and yet here Hinata is, all warm and bright much like the August summer outside. Something tells Akaashi that this isn’t the first time Hinata’s had an encounter like this. He’s endearing and though they’ve only known each other for a mere five minutes, Akaashi finds himself already fond of the younger boy. He’s an only child so he has no siblings, but if he had the choice, he thinks he would want a younger brother like Hinata.

They converse about other things after that, mainly volleyball. Hinata learns that Akaashi is his team’s official setter and they did in fact lose their third round match. He’s in the middle of telling Hinata that he neither likes nor dislikes volleyball when they arrive at the men’s bathroom.

“Sounds like you’re not playing volleyball for yourself, but for other people,” Hinata says, scratching the back of his head. “I mean, you gotta find your reason for wanting to stand on the court, otherwise, why spend your time doing something you don’t really enjoy?”

Akaashi contemplates Hinata’s words, finding some truth to them. Is this kid really only a year younger than him? 

“I mean, I get it if you don’t actually enjoy volleyball, but when I met you, you were all sweaty and red in the face. Someone who doesn’t enjoy playing wouldn’t try that hard if they didn’t want to win,” Hinata adds on. It’s only then that he becomes aware of his surroundings. “Oh! We’re here already! Thank you for your help, Akaashi-san!” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Akaashi turns to walk away, fiddling with his fingers absentmindedly when Hinata calls out after him. He wears a smile as bright as day as he waves. “I’ll see you here next year, Akaashi-san! So work hard!”

The setter allows himself a small smile and he nods courteously, waving his hand once. “See you next year, Hinata-kun.” They bow to each other politely before turning away from each other and parting ways, Akaashi disappearing into the crowd of people.

As Hinata is about to walk into the bathroom, the door is suddenly pushed out and smacks him directly on the face. He cries out and stumbles backwards, falling to the floor. There’s a panicked gasp and he can only assume it’s his unintentional attacker. Hinata rubs his forehead to alleviate the pain.

“Ah! Sorry about that!” Hinata looks up and sees a tall boy, either the same age or older than Akaashi, with spiky light grey hair with black streaks and round, golden eyes. He reminds Hinata of an owl that he watched in a nature documentary once with Sakusa and Komori. He holds his hand out and Hinata doesn’t hesitate, allowing himself to be pulled up. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you too badly, did I? Gah… I’m so sorry!”

The boy sounds genuinely apologetic and Hinata doesn’t have it in him to be seriously mad. Accidents happen after all. Instead he just grins up at the stranger. “As if a door could take me out that easily! Don’t worry about it! It was just an accident, don’t have to be sorry!”

The boy tilts his head to the side, confused at Hinata’s reaction. “You sure? I did hit you pretty hard…”

Hinata laughs. “I’ve had a volleyball spike to the face before and that hurt more than having a door smacked in my face.”

The stranger laughs with him and fondly slaps Hinata’s back, as if they’re close friends. “Right?! Last year, during the qualifiers, I stepped too far forward when receiving the ball and it hit me square in the face. It was really embarrassing but I just laughed it off because then people are laughing with me instead of at me.”

It’s only then that Hinata takes notice of the jersey number that the boy wears: a proud number four centred on his chest. If Hinata remembers what Komori told him before, the number four is usually reserved for the team’s ace. Hinata gasps in amazement, mouth dropped, eyes shining like stars as he looks up at the boy. “You’re the ace of your team? That’s so cool!”

The boy takes a second to process the praise before his face breaks out into a large smile. “Bokuto Koutarou! Ace of Ushimi Middle School!”

“Hinata Shouyou! Grade Six in Sano Elementary! I aim to be the next little giant one day! Nice to meet you, Bokuto-san!”

“Hey hey hey! That’s a great goal to have! I like you already, Hinata!”

“I like you too, Bokuto-san! When’s your next game? I’ll come watch you, I want to see a real life ace in action!”

“In fifteen minutes, I think! We’re playing against Dosho.”

Hinata freezes.

Dosho? As in, Dosho Middle School?

As in Dosho Middle School that both Sakusa and Komori play for? Oh no.

“Hinata? Hey, are you okay?”

The clementine-haired boy snaps out of his thoughts and forces a smile on his face. “Yes, I’m fine! I’m great!”

Bokuto looks skeptical but doesn’t question further. Instead he just grins and lightly ruffles Hinata’s hair and says, “Well I’ve got to go, need to do warmups, but I’ll see you there, alright?” Hinata nods his head and waves goodbye.

After going to the bathroom, Hinata makes his way towards the court, his stomach feeling queasier than ever despite having already gone to the bathroom. How can he cheer for both teams? His face scrunches up in discomfort, as if the fate of the human race depends on how he solves this moral dilemma. And to a twelve year old, maybe it does. Wait why is he even worried about this? It doesn’t matter if he cheers for both. Besides, he’ll only be cheering for Bokuto, not his team, whereas Hinata will cheer for all of Dosho, especially Sakusa and Komori. 

Because of the amount of middle schools still present, the match between Dosho and Ushimi is within the subarena, meaning that spectators will have to stand around the court to watch. He finds a spot near the referee, right next to the barriers, knowing that it’ll have the best vantage point to watch the game. Though this also means that if Komori is pressed to do a super save or an emergency set, then there’s a chance he might crash into the barriers so Hinata will need to be prepared to leap out of the way if that does happen.

“Hey hey hey! Hinata, hey!” Bokuto grins and waves at him from across the court. Hinata, fully aware of how short he is amongst all of the adults and middle schoolers present, raises both his arms and waves back.

“Bokuto-san!”

This small interaction does not go unnoticed. Sakusa looks back and forth between the two, curious and also slightly threatened. Who does this Bokuto Koutarou think he is, putting stars in Hinata’s eyes without him? Komori catches Sakusa’s eyes and before he could even stop him, his cousin is already making his way to Hinata, despite his captain’s questions as to where he’s going five minutes before the match. Komori rushes through an apology before running after his idiot cousin.

Hinata’s face lights up when he sees his best friends approach, but his smile starts to fade when he sees the serious look on Sakusa’s face. “Shouyou, how do you know Ushimi’s ace? When did you meet? And why wasn’t I there?” Sakusa asks, gripping his shoulders and holding him at arms’ length.

“Sakusa, that’s enough,” Komori scolds, but it’s half-hearted, since he too is curious as to the new friendship between Hinata and Bokuto.

Hinata tilts his head, like a confused puppy - it’s been four years, will he ever stop looking like a puppy? - and replies, “Like, fifteen minutes ago? He accidentally smacked my face with the door but it was really my fault for not looking where I was going, anyways, he apologised and we got to talking and…” Sakusa and Komori share a look as Hinata continues his ramble, as if they’re communicating telepathically through the bond they shared as cousins. “...and then I said I wanted to watch an ace in action and cheer for him but then he said he’s playing against Dosho and well, yeah…” Hinata finishes lamely, smiling sheepishly at Sakusa who is still holding his shoulders.

Komori laughs and shakes his head fondly. “You’ve got a habit for making friends with strangers, Shou-chan.”

“Oh! And I didn’t even tell you about Akaashi-san!”

Sakusa and Komori share another look. How many friends did he make in their absence? They only left him alone for ten minutes!

“You’re all my friends and I’m going to cheer for all of you!” Hinata says, smiling warmly at them. Sakusa softens his hold on Hinata and lets his arms drop to his sides. He can’t win against Hinata, not when he has his mind fixed on a decision. Hinata reaches out with his pinky, holding Sakusa’s little finger, locking their fingers together as they always do. “Besides, he might be the ace, but he’s not my favourite volleyball player.”

“That’s right, Shou-chan, because your favourite player is me!” Komori says, grinning cheekily, puffing his chest out, earning him another cold glare from his cousin and a laugh from Hinata.

“Of course, Motoya-senpai! You’re my favourite libero and Kiyoomi is my favourite wing spiker!”

“See, Sakusa? We’re both his favourites!” Komori playfully pokes Sakusa who does little to hide his displeasure at his cousin, but Hinata feels him squeeze his pinky and he knows Sakusa is okay. They’re both called to the lineup and Hinata waves them off with another shout of good luck.

Sakusa was half-counting on Ushimi’s ace to have an off-day, but in fact he seems more lively than when Dosho faced him in the finals of the qualifiers. He wonders if it’s Hinata’s praise that has him fired up. If it is, he understands - Hinata’s praises get him fired up too. But at this moment, it’s not good for Dosho. Komori places enough pressure by managing to dig up most of his straights but his cross-shots are nearly untouchable. They manage to snatch the first set away from Ushimi, but ultimately it’s them who take the win, the third set ending in a 28-26 deuce, the echoing of Bokuto’s “Hey, hey, hey!” ringing throughout the subarena.

Afterwards, they grab their bags and slowly start making their way towards the buses. Sakusa holds onto his bag strap tightly with one hand and the other holding Hinata’s hand through their pinky fingers. As Hinata talks to Komori next to him, Sakusa wonders what he lacks. Is it experience? Is it because this is his first National tournament? Or is it just an off day for him? Perhaps he focused too much on the opponent beyond the one in front of him that he underestimated Bokuto. Yes that’s it, he thinks, he fixated on playing against this so-called Ushiwaka that he forgot all about the opponent in front of him. A mistake he won’t make again.

“-- and Kiyoomi! You’re so cool! Your spikes were like WAH and BAM and then because of the spin you put on the ball with your wrists, it goes WHOOSH!” Hinata’s excitement is infectious and it’s almost enough for Sakusa to forget his disappointment. Almost. Losing has a bitter taste to it and he doesn’t want to do it again. If Hinata praises him like this when he loses, what will it be like when he wins? Sakusa wants to find out.

“Next year you can help us win, Shou-chan,” Komori says, grinning. 

“I can’t wait to play in a real match with both of you!”

Sakusa almost forgets that Hinata will join them next year. Of course, there’s no need to wallow. Not when he’ll have Hinata at his side like he should, like it’s always been. Next year he’ll have Hinata standing with him on the court and they’ll take this Young Giant from the East down together. But even if they don’t, losing won’t be as bitter if Hinata’s there by his side.

🏐

"Okaasan, onii-chan, hurry!” Natsu whines childishly. She shows her frustration in the best way any six year old knows how: she stomps her feet hard on the ground. Then she moves onto the next stage of a child’s frustration. Her bottom lip quivers and her glossy eyes already spilling tears. “Kiyo-nii and Moto-nii are already there and what if we can’t get a seat and we miss the fireworks and--” 

“It’ll be okay, Natsu! They would have saved seats for us, promise! And the fireworks don’t start for another two hours,” Hinata says reassuringly, like a good older brother. He takes out a hankie - a habit he learned from Kiyoomi - from a hidden pocket in his yukata and crouches down to her level, gently wiping her tears away from her flushed cheeks. “Okaasan is just paying for parking, okay? And then we’ll find Kiyoomi and Motoya-senpai.”

“It’s okay, I already called Aika-san,” Hinata Mirai, Natsu and Shouyou’s mother, says, walking up behind them and taking both of their hands in hers. They begin to walk towards the lights and crowds. “She knows we’d be about thirty minutes late.”

“Why are we late in the first place?” Natsu whines.

Before Mirai can reply, Hinata cuts in and gives her one of the many plum flavoured lollipops that he’d bought earlier for Kiyoomi. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? We’re here now.” 

He’s thankful that Natsu is only a child and though she’s clever for her age, she’s easily distracted. Hinata doesn’t know how to explain to her that their single mother works most of the day six days of the week, which is why they spend so much time with the Komori family who live next door. Today, their mother had to stay to cover a sick coworker’s shift until the replacement could come in which is why they’re running late.

Hinata feels his mother squeeze his hand gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He smiles brightly back at her, as if to communicate: You can count on me!

They soon find their friends, or rather, they find them. The Komori family easily spot the trademark tangerine hair of the Hinata family and wave them down. The parents take their seats at a picnic table whilst the children occupy two large blankets laid out on the grass for them. 

Mirai glances at Kiyoomi, the only representative of the Sakusa family, at this small gathering of theirs and feels her heart sink a little. Where is Ryota and Sayuri? They said they would make it this time. She looks at Aika and Ryuji, who seem to sense the wordless question and they silently shake their head. Mirai sighs. She’s sure they have their reasons but is just one evening too much to ask for?

“ Okaasan ! Can Kiyoomi and I go around the festival please?” Hinata asks with lips pursed in a pleading pout, his puppy eyes wide. Sakusa stands behind him politely but even he’s looking at Mirai with hopeful eyes. 

It’s an easy answer.

“Sure, but why don’t you take Motoya-kun with you?”

“I’m happy to stay here, Mirai-san!” Motoya says with a smile. “Besides, I’m full, but Sakusa insisted on waiting for Shou-chan before he ate.”

“So can we?” Hinata asks. “Please?”

“Yes, go on, but be back in time for the fireworks!” Mirai calls out, but her son has already grabbed hold of Kiyoomi’s hand, running into the crowd. She laughs softly to herself, shaking her head at them.

They hold each other’s hands by their pinkies as they wander around the festival, ooh’ing at the intricately designed traditional face masks they saw and ahh’ing at the dance performances. Then they hear the unmistakable sound of a stomach growling in hunger. Its demands can be heard even over the festival music and idle chatter. Hinata giggles as he pokes Sakusa’s belly over the yukata. “I think we should get some food now, Kiyoomi. I think I saw an umeboshi stall around here…”

“I was actually thinking of getting a little bit of everything,” Sakusa says.

Hinata’s bottom lip juts out in a small pout as he looks at the yen in his small coin pouch “I don’t think I have enough money for that...”

“That’s okay, I do,” says Sakusa with a smile, holding up a small wallet that Hinata presumes has lots of yen. “ Okaasan told me to enjoy myself tonight so we’ll buy some food for everyone. Except Motoya, because he said he was full.”

“Don’t be mean to Motoya-senpai, Kiyoomi,” giggles Hinata.

After they purchase their food, they return to their families and sit together on the blanket. They share the candied apples and strawberries with Natsu and Motoya’s siblings but keep the rest for themselves, except some taiyaki for Motoya who suddenly claims that he’s no longer full. Sakusa rolls his eyes at that.

“Ooh, that looks good, can I try some?” Hinata asks, scooting closer to Sakusa and resting his chin over his shoulder. He knows he’s pushing his luck, since Sakusa never shares his food for fear of spreading germs, but it doesn’t hurt to try, does it?

Sakusa pulls away from Hinata, leaving him to think he’s been rejected but finds himself surprised when Sakusa turns to fully face him, holding the three-coloured dango up in the air.

“Open up then.”

Hinata gasps happily and obeys as he closes his eyes and opens his mouth, making an “ahhhh” sound. When he feels the dumpling tap his lips, he takes a soft bite and chews slowly, savouring the sweetness. Sakusa gently bites the inside of his cheek in an attempt to prevent another smile from making its way onto his face. It works, for a time, but nothing can stop the blush that grows on his cheeks as he watches Hinata eating happily.

“Oh my God…” Hinata hears Motoya mutter under his breath. 

After he swallows, Hinata finally opens his eyes and smiles softly at Sakusa. “Thank you, Kiyoomi! You’re the best!” He says, throwing his arms around Sakusa, pulling him into a hug. He feels Sakusa bury his face in the crook of his neck. Hinata can’t help but smile. If someone asked him where home is, home would be in Sakusa Kiyoomi’s arms.

When Hinata pulls away, he reaches for the umeboshi and some chopsticks. He takes one and holds it out to Sakusa. “Your turn! Say ‘ahh!’”

He stares at the pickled plum in between the chopsticks. He lightly licks his lips in eager anticipation before leaning forward, opening his mouth with a quieter but audible “ahh” as he allows himself to be fed by Hinata.

Mirai, Aika, and Ryuji fondly watch the sweet scene before them, smiling to themselves and shaking their heads endearingly. Motoya comes over and sits himself next to Mirai before he lays his head against the table. “Make them stop. Please. ”

“I think it’s cute,” Aika says, giggling lightly as her husband puts an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Reminds me of your father and I when we were children.”

“Ah yes, I remember, I actually asked my mother to teach me how to make mizu manju just so I could feed it to you and say that I made it myself,” Ryuji says with a proud smile, earning him a loving kiss on his cheek from his wife. “It took me an entire summer to learn.”

“Oh my God, Mirai-san please make them stop,” Motoya pleads, burying his face in his hands as Mirai laughs.

“Moto-nii! I’ll feed you if you want!” Natsu says, offering him her a half-eaten candy apple.

Motoya removes his hands from his face and smiles at Natsu. “No, it’s okay, Nacchan. You can finish that while you sit up here to watch the fireworks with me so I’m not alone.” Natsu squeals happily as she runs - well, in her yukata, she waddles fast - over to Motoya who picks her up and places her down in his lap. 

“Oh! Oh! The fireworks are about to start, Kiyoomi!” Hinata exclaims excitedly. Together they sit side by side, holding each other by their pinkies. Sakusa leans a little further forward, as if it’ll get him closer to the fireworks that light up the night sky. His mouth forms a small ‘o’ of awe and his dark eyes glitter with wonder.

The summer festival lights are bright and the fireworks are pretty, but to Hinata, nothing is brighter or prettier than Sakusa Kiyoomi’s rare, gentle smile that reaches his eyes.

august 2009
sakusa, age thirteen
hinata, age thirteen

The day is finally here. The day they play against Shiratorizawa Junior High. The day they play against the infamous southpaw Ushiwaka in the quarter-finals. Sakusa can feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins once again, this excitement that only Shouyou used to incite in him. He can’t quite tell if it’s Ushiwaka himself, or if it’s volleyball that makes him excited.

“I need the bathroom!” Hinata cries out as he jumps off the bus, running towards the entrance in search of a bathroom. 

“Go after him and make sure he doesn’t get lost or accidentally picks a fight with another team,” Kamiya, Dosho’s new captain, tells Komori and Sakusa. As if he needs to tell them, Sakusa is already walking after Hinata and Komori isn’t far behind him.

“Shou-chan, Sakusa, wait up!” They do not wait up.

By the time Komori catches up to them, Sakusa is standing by the bathroom door, glaring hard at two boys walking out of the bathroom, one of them shaking his wet hands to dry them, droplets spraying everywhere, while the other wipes his hands on his shorts. Komori can feel his cousin’s disapproving aura flaring as he approaches. “Where’s Shou-chan?” He asks and Sakusa nods in the direction of the bathroom. “Oh I see.”

Minutes pass and when two minutes becomes five minutes and Komori’s worry increases. “Sakusa… is Shou-chan alone in the bathroom?”

“I don’t know, I didn’’t go in.”

“Well duh, you’re out here. But what if there’s someone in there and they pick a fight with him?” That gets Sakusa’s attention. It’s not that Hinata seeks out fights, it’s more of, he’s so charismatic that he’ll talk to anyone and accidentally say the wrong thing or the other person misinterprets his words. Sometimes, someone will trashtalk one of Hinata’s teammates or doubt his abilities and that’s a boundary that they can’t come back from.

Komori doesn’t need to say anything else. Sakusa walks into the bathroom without a second thought. 

The first thing he sees is a hand and a pocket handkerchief. The owner of the hand dries his wet hands with the hankie, and then folds it with the damp side in before tucking it into his pocket. Just who is this person with impeccable hygiene and respect for proper bathroom decorum and can Sakusa be his friend?

“--height doesn’t determine everything in volleyball, Ushijima-san. No team is guaranteed a victory. Not even a powerhouse school like yours.” 

Is that venom in Hinata’s words? Wait, Hinata ?! 

Sakusa looks back and forth between the two boys and comes to the quick conclusion that they’re in a disagreement and Sakusa has just walked right into the thick of it. He’ll have to ask Hinata for the details later, but this is a new side to Hinata that Sakusa has never seen before in their four years of friendship. Sure, he’s seen Hinata get frustrated before and even get mad but this… this is new. The stillness in Hinata’s expression is unnerving and his eyes are completely steeled and unblinking, as if he’s a predator, and Ushijima Wakatoshi is his prey and any sudden movements can set Hinata off.

“But it is a strong contributor to victory. With how small you are, I can’t see you effectively contributing to your team. If anything, you will only be a hindrance,” Ushijima says matter-of-factly, as if he’s reading a passage from a trivia book. 

Sakusa stills and he’s reminded of a familiar scenario when he was nine and Hinata was eight. 

Hinata? A hindrance just because he’s small? He’s never thought of Hinata as weak because of his height. If anything, he’s strong because of his height. Lacking the extra inches drives Hinata to work the extra mile. People like himself and Ushijima are lucky because of the bodies they inhabit. No matter how hard or how little they practise, they will still have the advantage either way. For Hinata to stand on the court with them, toe to toe, means only one thing: he’s not talented, he’s skilled . Talent is something you’re born with, skill is the result of hours spent honing and building one’s self. Sure, a person can have both, but it’s those who are built purely of skill that are the terrifying ones, the true monsters. They’re friends with disappointment and defeat. All they know is how to overcome adversity.

“You know, I’m not very good with big, fancy words or metaphors. I’m only in seventh grade and I don’t go to an elite school like you, but I can promise you this,” Hinata steps towards Ushijima, eyes shiny with angry tears and his fists curling at his sides, not in preparation to fight, but to ground himself, “today we will beat you and prove that the strongest teams are the one that have the strength to grow through concrete.”

Sakusa tries not to smile too much. Four years ago, he would have intervened. Hell, he would intervene now if he could but the look on Hinata’s face gives even Sakusa reason to pause. Is that what he looked like on that day when he confronted Nakagawa Rin? No wonder the boy cowered in front of him.

Ushijima blinks down at Hinata, confused by the boy’s unbending defiance. With how short he is and how weak he looks, Ushijima wonders where this boy’s arrogance is founded upon. How can he stand there and say such things? It doesn’t make sense.

Sakusa clears his throat, finally deciding to intervene before things escalate further and finally catching the attention of the two. Upon seeing him, Hinata softens, his hardened face relaxes and he loosens the tension held in his shoulders. “Kamiya-san is waiting,” is all Sakusa says and Hinata nods.

“Right, sorry for making you wait.” Hinata walks towards Sakusa and as he reaches the door, he turns around, looking at Ushijima once more. “See you on the court, Ushijima-san.” Hinata bows low, then reaches for Sakusa’s hand, pinkies interlocking, before walking out of the bathroom, past Komori.

“Sakusa? What happened?” Komori asks, jogging to catch up to them.

“Shouyou and Ushijima Wakatoshi had a disagreement,” he answers simply. “I don’t know much, I walked right into the middle of it.”

Komori nearly trips over his feet. “Shou-chan?! You and Ushijima argued?!”

Hinata juts his chin out to the side and scoffs. “We have very different volleyball philosophies.”

“I thought you didn’t know big, fancy words,” Sakusa says, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I heard the coaches saying something about it during warmups in our finals qualifiers.” Hinata shrugs. “Not that I understand it much. But talking to Ushijima-san… I get it now. We value different things.”

Hinata still has that intensity written on his face, but rather than anger, it’s laced with a fierce determination for victory. And yet, despite his almost-vicious facial expression and tense body, he holds Sakusa’s little finger gently. Sakusa feels a tiny flutter in his chest. What is that? Is he sick? No… it doesn’t feel like chest pain… What is that? Sakusa shoves it down deep within himself where he can deal with it later.

During warmups, Hinata makes it a point to not look over at Shiratorizawa. Sakusa knows Hinata is many things: loud, warm, kind, funny, and loyal to a fault. But he would never have counted petulant as one of the adjectives. And whatever else they spoke about before Sakusa entered seems to be affecting Ushijima too. Or at least, that’s what it seems to be, since the ace in question keeps looking over Dosho’s side of the net with an unreadable expression but exuding the same intense aura as Hinata. 

Receiving Ushiwaka’s spikes is a bitch , Komori thinks. The ball rotation is different from a southpaw and it doesn’t help that he puts so much force behind it, as if it’s not just his strength but his will that drives the ball forward. Ushiwaka is definitely fun to play against, in an odd, irritating kind of way. He makes a mental note to practice more serve-receives later on.

“Kamiya-senpai!” Hinata calls for the ball from his captain-setter. He rushes from the side and jumps, soaring high above the net and smacks the ball in the dead centre of the court. It’s clear to see that Hinata never stopped practicing last year, his hard work showing through the plays he makes. Though, Dosho already saw witness to this during the qualifiers. His speed and instinct throws Shiratorizawa for the first half of the first set, unable to catch up with him. And ultimately, that, combined with Sakusa’s serves and spikes, is what takes the first set.

“So that’s why he’s called the ‘Young Giant,’” says Komori, wiping his forehead with a towel before grabbing a water bottle.

“We have a giant of our own,” is all Sakusa says and Hinata grins at him.

Shiratorizawa takes the next set, which sucks. 

The third set commences and Komori digs up most of the serves. At one point, he does an emergency set to Hinata, something they’ve practiced often, and Hinata slams it down in the far corner of the court, just within boundaries.

22-22. 

But the next rotation takes Komori out and also puts Ushijima as the server. Damn it. They just need to bump his serve, they just need to get it up in the air. If the ball is in the air, then they have a strong fighting chance. Sakusa, Hinata, and Kamiya are in the back row, arms at the ready, their legs primed to leap in any direction if necessary. Ushijima throws the ball up in the air, jumps, and then smacks it directly between Hinata and Sakusa, as if he’s taunting both of them.

23-22. 

Another serve. This time, Kamiya manages to bump it but it’s off and sends it back over the net, only for one of the middle blockers to smack it back down on their side just before Komori can get a hand under it. Hinata growls in frustration but he’s never been more fired up and he’s never played better.

24-22.

Another serve, and Hinata gets it up in the air by sacrificing his cheek. Everyone in Dosho moves automatically, even Hinata who ignores the pain blooming in the side of his face. Kamiya sends a toss over to Sakusa who does a cross-shot, only for the opponent’s libero to dig it up. A toss is sent to the ace, which is fitting really, and everything seems to slow down. The sound of Ushijima’s hand hitting the ball rings in Hinata’s ears as he, Sakusa, Komori, and Kamiya dive for the ball. After that, the only thing he hears is the ball making contact with the court floor.

25-22.

“Well, I thought I had that…” Sakusa murmurs before he pushes himself up to his feet. Then he takes Hinata’s hand and pulls him up. His head hangs low and Sakusa sees water droplets on the floor. Oh no, don’t cry Shouyou, he thinks, I can handle anyone’s tears but yours. Hinata sniffles and buries his face in Sakusa’s chest and the latter strokes his hair affectionately, despite the sweat. It’s okay if it’s Shouyou.

“Hinata Shouyou.” Sakusa looks up and sees Ushijima watching them from the other side of the net. No, not you, anyone but you. Sakusa wraps his arms around Hinata protectively but he feels his best friend shake his head against his chest before he slowly peels himself away to face Ushijima.

“Ushijima-san.”

“I have won.”

Hinata’s jaw clenches and Sakusa stares hard at Shiratorizawa’s ace. “Clearly.”

“You are not strong,” he says, and Sakusa prepares himself to intervene, maybe even throw a right hook at Ushijima’s sharp jaw, but he continues, “ but you are not weak either. You have much more to learn.”

Hinata blinks, not expecting that from Ushiwaka. “H-Huh?”

“You are only in the seventh grade, yes?” Hinata nods. “And yet you managed to make contact with my serve.”

“Yeah, with my face,” Hinata mutters to himself but Ushijima either doesn’t hear him or ignores what he says.

“You are not weak. But you are not yet strong either. I will defeat you again when we stand on the same court.” Then he turns to Sakusa. “Sakusa Kiyoomi, you are a formidable player. Choose your high school well so your talents may properly shine.” Then he finally turns and walks away. 

“What a strange person,” Komori says, having watched the entire interaction. He then throws his arms around Hinata and Sakusa and walks them back to their benches.

Sakusa thought he would be more affected by this loss, but last year’s loss against Ushimi’s Bokuto Koutarou stung more than this. But he feels nothing. Well, not nothing. He’s now met someone who puts a nastier spin on a ball than he can so he feels competition, but other that, nothing else. Truthfully, he’s disappointed. All this talk about the Young Giant from the East and yet… Perhaps, in another universe, he might feel differently. 

As it stands, the only person who can light a fire in his heart and soul is Hinata Shouyou. He wonders if he feels the same way. 

Wait… there it is again, the same tiny flutter in his chest he felt before the game… Does he only get this when he thinks about Hinata? 

No, it can’t be. 

Sakusa tries to think of Kamiya, his skilled captain-setter who cares for his underclassmen. Kamiya, who, last year, had a fierce determination to beat Shiratorizawa this year and couldn’t, and yet despite the loss, he still smiles. No… Kamiya inspires nothing other than respect from Sakusa. 

But Hinata… Ah! There it is again, that tiny little flutter in his chest. That settles it, Sakusa is going to ask his mother to check on him when he gets home. Who better than a paediatrician to check on these strange symptoms?

“You played very well today, Hinata-kun.”

“Thank you, Akaashi-san!” Sakusa turns and sees Hinata bouncing up and down animatedly in front of a boy - likely the same age as Sakusa and Komori - wearing casual clothes. Akaashi… why does that name sound familiar? Sakusa is so wrapped up in his own mind that he doesn’t realise that Hinata’s introducing Akaashi to them. “These are my best friends! And this is Akaashi-san! He saved me last year when he showed me where the bathroom is.”

Ohhh, so this is the other friend that Hinata made last year. As it turns out, Mori Middle School lost their third round game yesterday but Akaashi made the effort to come and watch Hinata in action. Okay, Sakusa can accept this. He has a positive opinion on people when they support Hinata and return the same amount of friendship that Hinata gives to them. 

Later on, Sakusa and Hinata sit in one of the frontmost seats in the bus, with Kamiya and Komori sitting behind them. Hinata reaches out for Sakusa’s hand and holds it fully, interlocking all of their fingers together and he leans against his arm, resting his head in the crook of his shoulder. “I’ll get stronger, I promise,” Hinata murmurs as his eyes flutter shut, exhaustion catching up to him.

“I’ll get stronger too,” Sakusa mumbles, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability as he rests his cheek against Hinata’s head.

When they arrive, Kamiya leaves the undesirable task of waking Sakusa and Hinata up to Komori, much to his displeasure.

🏐

“Check it again.”

“Kiyoomi, I’ve checked your temperature five times now. You don’t have a fever or a cold.”

“Well, try the stethoscope again.”

“There’s nothing unusual about your breathing.”

“So why do I have this flutter in my chest when I look at Shouyou?”

Sakusa’s mother, Sayuri, looks at him, almost pityingly. She forgot what love looks like when the people involved are absolutely clueless. Then again, she supposes she can’t blame her son. How is he supposed to know what love is when she and her husband rarely display it because they don’t feel it anymore? With both of them so busy with their careers to provide for their family, they forgot to be a family. 

Has she even felt that flutter before? The same flutter that her son describes? Maybe once, when she and Ryota were young, before life overwhelmed their love. Kiyoomi looks up at her with his dark brown, almost black, eyes. Her eyes. She can see her own soul reflect in his eyes as he patiently waits for an answer. She thinks back to the photograph she took of Hinata and Kiyoomi when they were younger. Of course. It can’t be anything else. 

“I think it’s love.”

“Love?”

“Yes.”

“Like the love Komori’s parents have?”

Sayuri tries not to physically flinch. She should be hurt that her son’s first thought of love is her brother and her sister in-law and not his own parents. Yet she isn’t hurt, just empty. 

“Perhaps.”

“I thought only boys and girls can love each other? Not boys and boys?”

“Love isn’t fixed to just boys and girls, so yes, a boy can love a boy. Just as a girl can love a girl.”

Kiyoomi allows that new information to settle in his brain. “I love Shouyou? Is that your diagnosis?”

“It’s not something I can diagnose you for, Kiyoomi. There’s no science to love.” If there was, I would have memorised every equation. “What does your heart tell you?”

Kiyoomi spends the rest of the evening with his mother’s stethoscope to his chest, trying to decipher the meaning of each heartbeat.