“She’s a perfect baby girl.” The doctor told both you and your mother as she finished washing the infant, wrapping her in a blanket, and placing her in your arms. Looking down at this perfect bundle brought tears to your eyes. Chubby pink cheeks and a big head with a little blonde hair growing in.
AN: So, before we get down to it, this is basically just so you all can get an idea of what I do, I suppose. Thought I might start with some wholesome nonsinful kagehina. Hope you enjoy, children.
It took Kageyama quite a while to figure out what it was he was feeling. In regards to relationships, he had never had any close ones. Everybody he met either bothered him severely or had never been around enough to do so. So it would make sense that it had taken him almost a year to finally figure out that he and Hinata were friends. And how strange a realization that was; had he ever even had a friend? He couldn’t recall any point in his life where he did, but then again, how could he be sure? Did he even know what a friend was? Of course, once he started thinking about it hard enough, he went to the only place that he felt safe enough to ask such a question: the internet.
“A person whom one knows, likes and trusts.”
He thought to the entirety of the volleyball team, many of which he knows he is not friends with. Were you even allowed to be friends with your senpai? He decided that was a question for another time. Then there was Yamaguchi, who he didn’t quite like very much, he spent too much time with Tsukishima, and he was definitely not friends with Tsukishima. And then there was Yachi, and she seemed to like him to some extent. Once he thought about it, he supposed he did like her, or at least, he certainly didn’t hate her. But Hinata, Hinata was something else.
A person whom one knows, likes and trusts. Yes, he knew Hinata. Obviously. But did he like Hinata? He wanted to say no. He really, really wanted to say no, he was so stupid and loud and annoying, that dumbass, but, he wasn’t sure he did hate Hinata. Even with his stupid voice and his stupid bright hair and his stupid enthusiasm, he was still sure that of all the people on the team, he liked Hinata the most. Why, though? What was it that he liked so much about him? He gave up trying to figure it out once he started to frustrate himself.
Then there was trust; did he trust Hinata? Of course he did. With his life, perhaps not, but with volleyball? Completely.
So, then, that was that. They were friends. Despite not knowing why they were friends, why he decided he was okay with them being friends, he yielded to the idea of it, and went about his daily life.
Or, at least, he tried to.
Something about acknowledging their friendship made it that much harder on Kageyama to actually be friends with Hinata. All of a sudden he was bombarded with reminders every time they were around each other that they trusted one another, liked one another, even if just a little, and, frankly, the entire ordeal made Kageyama indescribably uncomfortable. And it showed.
Kageyama had been off on his tosses all day, and Hinata was getting very annoyed, very quickly. During break, he pulled Kageyama (who had a very sickly looking expression) to the side, where he placed the back of his hand on Kageyama’s forehead.
“Oi— what the hell are you doing, dumbass?” he said, swatting the shorter boys hand away. He pursed his lips in a frown and looked up at the taller,
“What’s the matter with you today, Kageyama-kun? Are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
Kageyama huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest,
“What’re you talking about? I’m fine. Dumbass Hinata,” he muttered.
“Then what’s your problem? Your tosses have sucked all day!”
Hinata expected Kageyama to grab his head or yell or anything that Kageyana would normally do after being insulted, but instead, he watched as Kageyama’s expression changed from one of irritation to one of confusion, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable with the entire conversation. Kageyama opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped abruptly by the loud voice of Nishinoya, his hands cupped around his mouth as he shouted at them to get back to practice, we’re starting again, hurry up! Kageyama glanced back at Hinata, who shrugged and made his way back over to the court. Kageyama’s shoulders tensed, and he was suddenly very frustrated, but opted to bring it up again later, nonetheless. With a fresh scowl on his face, he made his way over in Hinata’s wake.
By the end of practice, Hinata and Kageyama collected their things and left within minutes, being that it was Nishinoya and Tanaka who would be staying behind to clean up this time around as a punishment (“Launching Noya-san over the net to see how far you can get him is not a wise way to spend practice time!”). Fifteen minutes later, they were almost to the crossroads where they would separate for the night. Kageyama walked silently with his eyebrows scrunched together as he thought long and hard about earlier, before Hinata interrupted his thoughts,
“Kageyama,” he said, getting the taller’s attention, “are you really okay?”
Kageyama stopped in his tracks, causing the shorter of the two to stop walking as well. They watched each other for a moment before Kageyama hesitantly asked the question that had been eating at him all day,
“Are we friends?”
Hinata looked taken aback by it, and could only manage a rhetorical “huh?” in response. Kageyama felt sort of sick at the situation he had found himself in, and almost opted out of continuing,
“You're— I’m,” he began, feeling very embarrassed, “you’re my friend, aren’t you?”
The way it came out made it seem more like an accusation that a question, and Hinata continued to stare as he took in the situation. Kageyama thought he might be in shock until he let out a short laugh that made him jump out of his skin,
“Yeah, we’re friends. I thought you already knew that, Bakageyama!”
Relief flooded Kageyama, and he was too caught up in the feeling to wonder why he had been so worried in the first place. Surely it wouldn’t have upset him if Hinata had said no. Right?
Hinata had started onward down the path again, leaving Kageyama to stand in shock behind him,
“But I’m still going to beat you one day!” he said, throwing his head over his shoulder. Kageyama was snapped from his state of bewilderment and hurried after his friend. His first friend.
“Yeah right, dumbass Hinata!”
Their first year had ended on a good note, with the confirmation that Hinata and Kageyama were, in fact, friends. This confirmation had lead to many different reactions on Hinata’s part, and it soon became a regular occurrence to find Kageyama at the Hinata household. He enjoyed his time there, to say the least. Hinata’s mother was very nice, and she cooked well, he decided not long after visiting for the first few times. He liked Natsu as well— or more accurately, Natsu liked him. This surprised him, he was positive all children hated him, but Natsu was the exception. It seemed like all the Hinata family was an exception for him. It made him happy, even if he would never admit it to anyone.
Along with this, Hinata had begun inviting Kageyama out to places as well. Never anywhere too outstanding, but he would text Kageyama whenever he and Natsu went out to the park or to the aquarium (“Natsu wanted me to ask— she misses you, so you have to go.”). This was also a common occurrence now; Kageyama and Hinata texted often. In fact, any time they were apart, they seemed to be texting one another. They weren’t entirely sure when this started, but neither of them were complaining.
And things went on like this for the entirety of second year, and most of third year as well. Until the end of their days at Karasuno drew closer, and things started to change for Kageyama.
They had changed a lot over the course of their time together. Kageyama had grown to be a very open person in regards to making friends and letting people into his personal life. He was closer with his teammates than ever before, especially his red-headed decoy. Hinata had changed a lot too. He was taller (though not by much), faster, and his hair was now long enough for their elders to start complaining. But he was still the same old Hinata when it came to personality. He was still loud and enthusiastic, and still just as happy to be Kageyama’s friend as always. But something still seemed different. A strange kind of different.
Kageyama didn’t look at him the way he did before. He used to find all sorts of things about Hinata annoying, but now it bothered him immensely to picture Hinata without any of those traits. His ‘dumbass’s didn’t hold the same meaning they used to; he never said it to hurt Hinata. He didn’t want to hurt Hinata. In fact, he hated seeing Hinata hurt, physically, emotionally, any way. But this was the extent of his change in perspective, until the end of their third year, just a week before graduation.
Kageyama was stood outside the door of the Hinata household, looking down at his phone screen and the text from his friend displayed:
‘COME OVER NOW.’
He was slightly worried (Is he injured? Is Natsu okay? Did he get sick? What an idoit, he can’t get sick, he has practice tomorrow.) but decided not to show it as he knocked on the door. Not three seconds later did it open, and Kageyama began his interrogation,
“I got in, Kageyama!”
The redhead had thrown himself from the doorway and into Kageyama with his arms draped around the taller boy’s neck, his head over his shoulder as he yelled. Kageyama froze instantly, and an unfamiliar warmth crawled up his neck and over his face at the affection. His hands twitched as they moved to rest on Hinata’s sides. He attempted to speak, but suddenly felt as though someone had stolen the air from his lungs. Before long, Hinata had pulled back, hands resting on Kageyama’s shoulders with a paper clenched in his fist. Kageyama looked down at him, with his face lit up like the sun, over — what exactly?
“Huh?” was all he could muster, still feeling slightly disoriented, his hands still on Hinata’s sides. The shorter of the two jumped up and pulled the paper out in front of Kageyama’s face for him to see,
“I got into the same school as you on a volleyball scholarship,” he yelped, “we’re gonna play together on the college team!”
Kageyama could not find any words, he was too overcome with relief and— was that happiness? He wasn’t going to think about it too hard. He could pass his relief off as being due to not having to readjust his tosses to someone new.
In his silence, Hinata had removed his hands (albeit to the disappointment of Kageyama, but he didn’t need to known that) and huffed,
“You’re not excited for me, Yamayama-kun? How rude!”
Kageyama flinched slightly, realizing now that he still had not said anything,
“I knew you would, why should I act surprised?”
He intended for it to be snarky, a quip at Hinata’s expense, but the reaction he got was nothing that gave him this impression. Instead, Hinata looked up at him with genuine surprise, and then smiled, his brightest, happiest smile at the compliment he hadn’t know he’d given him in the first place. He’d said what he was thinking, but, he asks himself afterwards, what does that say about what he thinks of Hinata?
They started college not long after; they shared a dorm room, went to practice together, spent free time together. Everything they did was together. Kageyama was content this way. Living casually side-by-side with Hinata. And then, things changed again.
“She’s so—” Hinata muttered, head in his pillow, “she’s so cool.”
Hinata was crazy about a girl. He met her in his Behavioral Sciences class, and apparently, she was very, very cool.
“She just makes my head go uwaah! You know?”
Kageyama, on the other hand, was not very cool. In fact, he was very, very not cool with the situation. Something about all of this bothered him beyond belief. He wouldn’t shut up about her, and he thought if he heard another word about her he might scream.
“What should I do?”
“Don’t ask me, stupid, do whatever you want.”
Kageyama had grown exceedingly cold towards his roommate since the beginning of this entire ordeal, and Hinata had noticed, but decided not to ask about it. It was exam time; he was sure it was just the stress getting to him.
Stress was right, but the source if it, that was a whole ‘nother story.
All of this anger towards a girl he had never met was driving Kageyama insane. Why was he so mad about this? Why did he find her so annoying? He didn’t even know her! After mentioning this to Noya, who he was till in touch with (he decided Noya might be best to ask, he wasn’t observant enough to understand he was asking for himself), he did not get answers he liked.
“Sounds like your friend is jealous.”
“Yeah,” Noya said as they walked across campus, “you need to tell him he better confront them about it. It’s only gonna get worse if he doesn’t say something.”
Kageyama said goodbye soon after, telling Noya he had a headache. It was not entirely a lie.
So, he was jealous. Jealous of this girl he had never met before, because she had Hinata. But, Kageyama had Hinata, didn’t he? They were friends. They did everything together. But, friends. That word didn’t taste right on his tongue anymore. He and Hinata were friends. Hinata and this new girl were not. That was the difference. Hinata did not want to be her friend. Hinata wanted to be a lot more than friends.
Kageyama felt sick.
This realization had hurt. He had never, in all his years, had feelings for a person. And what’s worse, they’re for a friend, who he wasn’t sure had any interest in guys. And meanwhile, Hinata was living it up with the girl he so hated. They weren’t dating, but they were enough to make Kageyama want to curl up and disappear. He was sure he was going to have to live with this feeling forever, but then, like they always do, things changed again.
Hinata walked into their dorm room, closed the door and stood with his head rested against it. Kageyama watched as he turned slowly around to face him.
“It ended before it even started. How stupid is that?”
Kageyama didn’t say anything as Hinata walked over to the bed Kageyama sat on and took a seat next to him, back rested against the wall. Neither of them spoke again for the remainder of the night. But, as horrible as it was, Kageyama felt happy. Hinata was his again. Things were going to be alright.
Hinata was all kinds of wrong afterwards. Kageyama hated it. He wasn’t nearly as cheerful or enthusiastic. He had no idea what to do. But his steadily growing feelings for the boy had been urging him to do something, and he tried not to think too much about it or he would end up doing exactly what he shouldn’t do, he really, really shouldn’t, but things never seem to go the way you want them too, do they?
It had not been Kageyama’s intention that night, sitting up against the wall with his orange-haired companion beside him. But, he had looked so hopeless, his knees brought up against his chest, arms crossed over them and his head rested on top. He looked so small— and while Hinata had always been small, he had always somehow made himself feel big, like he was the most important thing in the room, or perhaps that was just how Kageyama saw him. Now he looked tiny, fragile. And Kageyama could not stand it.
He didn’t know what it was that had clenched in his chest and forced him to turn his head, to lift his hand to Hinata’s face, warm against his fingers, and lean down before either of then could question what exactly was happening— Kageyama doesn’t know what made him do it, but he certainly does not regret leaning down to press his lips against Hinata’s.
It feels short— much too short, Kageyama thinks —but the way he finds himself out of breath when they pull away makes him think that he could’ve been kissing Hinata for years, for all he knows. He feels unusually nervous when he looks at Hinata, at the way he sits quietly with his lips just barely parted, a light flush settling over his cheeks. He doesn’t say anything, and Kageyama thinks that maybe that was the wrong thing to do.
But then Hinata is reaching out to rest his hand on the back of Kageyama’s neck, and he stretches himself to reach the taller boys lips from where he sits, and Kageyama forgets how to breath all over again.
Neither one of them thinks about classes that are only hours away.
Most Grineer feared being hardwired into Ogma craft. They’d face gruelling shifts scraping away at asteroids, risking disintegration at the hands of passing Corpus vessels and their entourages. The engines, unreliable as they were, could cut out at any given moment and leave them stranded in orbit for months on end. The copy-men liked the option of fleeing, which was impossible if they were forced into the single-seater cockpit of a flying coffin.
Ikaros, on the other hand, simply didn’t give a damn. He’d already been driven mad by the sun’s radiation and was quite happy to remain in his Ogma. The numerous Grustrag retrieval squads he’d left in the dust didn’t share his enthusiasm.