Tobio can’t remember the last time his focus was this off. Hinata shouts, “Toss to me!” the same time Asahi passes the ball to him, and the next thing Tobio knows, he’s on the floor and his face hurts. A lot.

“Kageyama!”

Hinata runs over to him immediately. Scowling, Tobio clambers up and rubs his forehead. The others crowd around him as well; Tobio’s pretty sure that’s Tsukishima he hears chuckling, but being aware of him increases his headache.

“That was a pretty bad fall,” says Daichi. “And a bad hit to the face.”

“I’m sorry!” Asahi flails. “Are you alright?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine…”

Tobio sits up properly, cross-legged on the polished floor. He rubs his temples until most of the irritation has gone away.

“I’m good,” he says, although he’s not entirely confident on the truth of that. The last thing he remembers before landing on the ground was the way Hinata’s hair glowed bright under the sunlight, streaming from the side windows. The other time it happened, he’d been staring at Hinata’s knees, tiny and bouncing as he waited to spike or receive.

And now Hinata’s hovering over him now, asking, “Are you sick, Kageyama?’

“I just said, I’m fine.” Tobio pushes him away before he finds himself staring at some part of Hinata again, and then passing out or getting a nosebleed or. Something.

Hinata doesn’t say anything at that, but seems to trust him. He continues shouting, “Pass to me!” during practice, though. Tobio is extra careful to make sure that he focuses on Hinata’s words, rather than Hinata’s anything else.

But it’s not that easy, because they usually walk – or, more often, run – home from practice, when the sun’s setting, dull against the vibrance of Hinata’s hair. Tobio makes sure he stares at his shoes, while Hinata walks his bike back.

“You always look so glum,” Hinata comments on their way back. “Or angry. Are you thinking about something?”

Tobio is in fact thinking about how much he can avoid Hinata for the rest of his life, because this sort of tripping up is sort of embarrassing. “Not really,” he says, and then, “Why don’t you bike back? You don’t have to walk with me.”

“But it’s fun walking with you!” Hinata grins. “I like spending time with you! Even though you’re usually yelling at me…”

Tobio’s cheeks get warm. “You don’t have to,” he says. “Really. It’d be faster if you went on your bike.”

“Well duh, I know that,” says Hinata. “But you don’t have a bike. Hey, why don’t we invest in you getting a bike? So then we can have bike races instead of running races instead!”

“I-I don’t – ” Tobio’s face feels even hotter, but for a different reason now.

Hinata stops. He looks like a light went off in his head.

“You don’t know how to bike, do you, Kageyama?”

“N-Not – I’ve never had the time!” Tobio says defensively. “And I’ve never needed to.”

Hinata laughs, hand on his chest. Tobio’s entire body is blazing in embarrassment. “Oh my god,” he says. “Kageyama doesn’t know how to ride a bike, and I do! Hey, why don’t I teach you how?”

“No way!” Tobio towers over Hinata that even though Hinata’s cheeks are still flushed with delight, he cowers like Tobio’s about to eat him anyway. “I’m not – I mean, you don’t have to – I don’t need to learn how to ride a bike.”

“But bike races.” Hinata pouts.

Tobio shoves him in the face and then continues on, staring at his shoes.

Hinata gives up on the bike thing eventually, probably because he’s forgotten about it. He forgets about those sorts of things a lot – he’s forgotten his schedule on multiple occasions that sometimes Tobio has to remind him what classes he has next. He’s also forgotten about Daichi’s birthday before, and promised to get him something belated. But Hinata forgot to do that, too.

They don’t have practice a few days later, but in the morning when Tobio is walking to school, he hears a yell, “Kageyama, waaiiit!” When he glances back, Hinata’s jogging to catch up with him.

Not like it’s anything new, but Tobio starts sprinting away anyway. It’s embarrassing, finding himself fixated on Hinata’s flushed cheeks, or the curve of his ears, or the slight show of skin when Hinata lifts his arms to stretch. The last couple of times he and Hinata have raced, he’s even been distracted by Hinata’s panting, which is a little bit disconcerting.

So Tobio puts an extra effort into beating him today, and manages to make it to school a full forty-five seconds before Hinata appears at the entrance. Tobio’s still catching his breath, face down on the ground.

“I didn’t know you didn’t want to see me that much,” says Hinata. His eyes are too wide and he exhales largely before collapsing as well.

Tobio says, “That- That’s not – ”

“I’m just joking.” Hinata beams. “C’mon, let’s get to class!”

Dumbfounded, Tobio follows him into the building. Since they’re not in the same class they split, and Tobio feels both relieved and disappointed. As he crouches at his desk, he rests his chin in his hands. He doesn’t understand the drop in his stomach when he sees Hinata, when Hinata leaves. A part of him is suddenly looking forward to volleyball practice for more reasons than just playing volleyball – yearning to hear Hinata say, Pass to me, Kageyama! and the shout of joy when they perform another perfect quick.

He hears the classmate next to him pointedly scoot his chair away from him. Tobio becomes aware of his mouth muscles and realizes that he’s kind of grinning to himself in his seat.

He readjusts his mouth, glares at his classmate, and then goes back to sulking. He and Hinata will only perform a perfect quick if Tobio gets his head on back right.

But thinking about Hinata is like thinking about volleyball – his heartbeat quickens, and he wants to see Hinata, he wants to play volleyball, right now. It’s a thirst that won’t be satisfied until he’s on the court, or sees Hinata’s stupid face grinning at him from their side of the net.

Maybe if Tobio punches Hinata the same way he hits volleyballs, it’ll stop.

At lunch the next day, though, he knows that punching Hinata probably won’t help. Well, maybe it will, since then if Tobio does, he won’t get distracted by the more appealing aspects of Hinata’s face because there’ll hardly be any left. The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks it might be a viable solution.

“Hey,” he says, as Hinata munches on his rice. “Can I hit you?’

Hinata yelps. “What kind of question is that?” Already he’s in a defensive position, clutching his chopsticks and himself away from Tobio.

“I just think,” Tobio shrugs, “it would be a good idea.”

“Don’t you think punching me is always a good idea?”

“Well.” Tobio can’t really deny it, when Hinata has bad habits of spacing out in the middle of conversations, or volleying serves into the back of Tobio’s head.

Hinata says, “I’m not letting you punch me!”

“Then just like a.” Tobio thinks about the way he likes hitting volleyballs. Light under his fingertips, but with enough force to direct it wherever he wishes it to go.

Hinata’s face isn’t like that, though, because Hinata’s a person, and it might be nicer to just. Touch. With a ball, Tobio feels best if he’s tossing it. He’s pretty sure people aren’t like that.

“Tap,” he decides to be the best way to describe it. “I think it might… relieve my stress. Or something.”

Hinata seems to ponder with a pout, but after a moment says, “Fine. Promise not to actually punch me, though.”

“You wouldn’t trust me if I promised.”

“Just – promise anyway! So I can hold it against you.”

Tobio does. Hinata closes his eyes and squeezes his mouth shut. “What are you doing that for?” Tobio scolds. “It’s not like you’re about to do anything embarrassing.”

“This is embarrassing!” Hinata says adamantly.

“Whatever.”

Tobio rests his fingers on Hinata’s face. He’s soft, even though that hardly comes as a surprise. Hinata’s entire aura radiates soft, unless he’s on the volleyball court. Then he’s all defined edges, stubborn, compliant only against Tobio’s push.

He traces against Hinata’s cheeks, and Hinata’s mouth tightens even more. “Really,” Tobio says. “This isn’t anything.”

“It’s still embarrassing for me,” says Hinata. He slots his eyes open. “Are you feeling better now?”

Tobio doesn’t want to stop. It does feel like something’s been pressured out of inside of him, waiting to get bigger, like a rain cloud.

He blinks and realizes Hinata’s still staring up at him, waiting for a response. “I’m better,” Tobio affirms, and lets him go.

So he doesn’t feel accomplished, really, but Tobio is content – at least when he catches himself staring at Hinata (which is more than he’d realized before), he can think of the way Hinata had felt under his palms. Warm, thumb stroking and leaving the faintest white marks against Hinata’s blushing cheeks.

That afternoon at practice, Tobio finds his gaze constantly drifting to the small slip of Hinata’s collarbone. Lunch, he remembers, warm plush against his own.

Tobio serves perfectly, which is mediocre for him, instead of getting hit in the face again.

Afterward, Hinata comes up to him and asks, “We’re okay, right?” He’s shuffling his feet and staring to the side.

“‘Course.” Tobio turns from packing up the net.

“You’re okay, right?”

“What’re you talking about?” says Tobio. “I didn’t have any accidents today.”

“That’s true,” Hinata admits.

Sugawara walks over to them then, and says, “I was going to say something about that, Kageyama-kun. Your sets were subpar today, is there something wrong?”

“My sets were not subpar,” Tobio says, maybe a little too defensively. “Hinata and Asahi and Tanaka-san hit every one.” Tsukishima had missed a couple, but that was because every time he went up to spike, Yamaguchi would yell from the side and Tsukishima hesitated.

“They weren’t as precise as they usually are.” Sugawara-san tilts his head to the side. “Kageyama? Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine.” Tobio doesn’t meet his eyes, and catches the ball when Asahi tosses hit to him. Instead of following up with Sugawara, he just calls to the rest of them, “I’ll help put the balls away!”

Daichi as usual treats them to dinner at Coach Ukai’s place, although Daichi points out that Coach Ukai can buy them their food since he owns the place. Ukai sputters and hits Daichi upside the head. Sugawara criticizes Ukai for hitting a high schooler.

Hinata says, “I know what Sugawara-san said, but I think your tosses were fine today!” He’s walking his bike again. The moonlight lights up the side of his face.

Tobio quickly glances down. “No, Sugawara-san was right,” he says. “I was… it wasn’t my best. Even without any accidents.”

Hinata tilts his head. “You know you can talk to me, if you want,” he says, which completely catches Tobio off guard. Then again, Hinata’s kind of unpredictable like that. “We’re in the same year, and the volleyball team… You said that you’d make me invincible!” He laughs brightly. “So you can talk to me if you want to.”

Tobio falters, feeling his eyes widen without permission. Hinata’s too goddamn earnest, and Tobio just wants to – he doesn’t know.

“We’re talking already, aren’t we?” he says, and cuffs Hinata on the arm. “Don’t say things so honestly like that. It’s embarrassing.”

Hinata laughs sheepishly. “We’re both doing embarrassing things this week, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Tobio agrees.

Temptation pulls him; he can’t resist. He glances at Hinata again. The side of his face is so bright that it casts the angle that Tobio can see into the shadows, yet still he fixates on the glowing parts, the outline of Hinata’s lips, the side view of his nose, profile. Hinata’s still talking about something that Tobio’s not really paying attention to, and he laughs – mouth open, wide, and Tobio finds himself leaning in.

“Kageyama-kun?”

Hinata’s eyes are wide, staring at him. Tobio jolts out of his daze, blinks. Despite this, his gaze doesn’t move from where they’re fixated, and suddenly Tobio realizes what exactly he was about to do.

“I, uh,” he says, quickly looking away. “I gotta go home!”

He sprints off, without saying goodbye to Hinata, without saying goodbye to the others. His home is only half a mile from here, but Tobio wants to get there right away, bury himself under his blankets, not think about anything anymore.

He was about to kiss Hinata. He wants to kiss Hinata. He doesn’t know how, or why, or where this desire had even come from. He squeezes his eyes shut to try to get rid of the thoughts, and almost runs into a streetlamp.

Fifteen minutes later he’s in bed, avoiding all questions from his mother (who scolded him for slamming the door), burying his head in his blankets, wondering, why, why do I want to kiss that dumbass?

He avoids looking at Hinata when they’re in school again. More accurately: he avoids Hinata almost entirely. When they usually have lunch, Tobio grabs something from the vending machine early and sneaks out onto the roof. In the hallways he ducks into classrooms if he sees a glimpse of orange coming his way, or someone nearly Hinata’s height.

Tobio gets to volleyball practice late on purpose. Hinata’s already there, of course, spiking Sugawara’s sets. Tobio’s stomach clenches, because those are his sets he should be hitting.

He closes his eyes, sets his bag down, reminds himself to breathe.

“Kageyama! There you are,” says Tanaka, running up to him. He claps Tobio on the back. “This is a first for you, eh? Being late?”

Tobio makes a quiet noise of agreement, changes into his practice outfit. When he pokes his head out of the collar, his eyes automatically open and gravitate toward Hinata – and maybe he’s imagining it, but Hinata’s watching him as he’s changing.

No. No. That’s Tobio projecting. He immediately glances away, seeking something else to stare at.

Throughout practice, he responds diligently to Hinata – the good thing about setting is if he focuses more on the ball than the spiker, he doesn’t have to look at Hinata too much. He just has to know where Hinata is, or where he’s going to be, something already second nature to Tobio anyway.

But Hinata’s calls of, “Send it to me!” sound kind of half-hearted, too. Or maybe Tobio’s projecting again? He tries to observe without actually observing – from the corner of his eye, he can see that Hinata’s moves seem a little more hesitant. A fraction of a second slower than usual. And there’s a burning – a burning on the back of Tobio’s neck that make him feel like Hinata’s watching him more than usual.

They start toward the locker rooms after practice. Hinata calls out, “Kageyama!” and dread drops in his stomach, excitement, the tiny euphoria of hearing Hinata say his name.

Tobio blushes.

“Yeah?” he asks, as he walks over to him. Nishinoya pats Hinata on his way out, claps Tobio’s shoulder. They both ignore him.

“Um.”

The gym is filing out, steadily. Hinata seems to wait until it’s mostly empty, then says, “You’ve been… avoiding me… since yesterday…”

It’s not even a question. Hinata seems reluctant to admit it, but there’s something in his eyes that says he knows it, or at least believes it. (Knows it, Tobio tells himself, because he’s right.)

“I.” Tobio scratches the back of his head. “Yeah.”

Hinata gulps. “Why?” he asks. “Did I do something to upset you, or…? I’ve been trying to remember all day.”

He clutches at his stomach, like he usually does before big games, and Tobio remembers how anxious Hinata gets. How if he doesn’t think he’ll do things perfectly, or at least the way their team would accept, he worries his head off.

Tobio feels terrible and elated at the same time.

“No, you didn’t,” he says. If Hinata cares this much, then. Then what does he have to lose by telling him the truth? They can work around it; they’ve worked around their old mutual dislike.

Hinata thinks of him as volleyball too.

“Then,” says Hinata, because Tobio’s paused. “Then why are you acting weird?”

It’s mid-afternoon, and the sun streams through the windows overhead. It catches them in an angle, Hinata more in the light, Tobio sort of off-center, so he can see it all: Hinata’s hair sticking out like sun rays, still sweating face, mouth parted, glowing bemusement. Perhaps this is what he sees when he spikes, over the arms and bodies blocking him. Like he’s found a purpose, reached what he’s been dreaming about, again and again.

Tobio answers, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world, “I like you.”

Hinata blinks. Tobio wishes that he could tell what’s running through Hinata’s mind right now, although if he were to bet someone, he would probably bet that nothing was. Because that’s what Hinata looks like: mouth open, eyes wide, like his mind is too empty to speak.

“Oh,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Tobio snaps.

“Because,” says Hinata, and he shifts his head so his eyes are on the ground, and then he says, “Because it’s like, impossible you to feel things, and I’ve liked you for a pretty long time too but basically came to terms that you’d probably never feel the same for me, so – ”

Tobio grabs his face, and kisses him, because why does he like this dumbass anyway? Hinata’s lips are chapped like Tobio thought they would be, and Hinata pulls away for a millisecond to lick around his lips before Tobio manages to close the gap between them again.

Ultimately it doesn’t feel like the world is crashing down, or that the storm in a sea has calmed, or fire burns between them. But more like gentle waves, pushing and pulling, an ease and rhythm that makes Tobio feel like he should’ve seen this coming. Hinata gives and receives in full, a hand somehow on Tobio’s shoulder, against his neck, leaning up as Tobio leans down.

They break apart and there’s a small sound that echoes throughout the gym. Tobio’s cheeks redden at it but Hinata’s does, too. He pulls his hand away from Tobio too fast, like he thinks Tobio might tell him to get off.

“I, uh,” says Hinata. They’re not touching anymore, vaguely pissing Tobio off. “That was nice.”

“Did you want to stop, or can we keep,” and saying this feels weird but Tobio’s always figured it’s best to be blunt, “kissing?”

Hinata’s cheeks flush, and his eyes sparkle. “Okay,” he says, and Tobio takes him by the hand this time, brings him in, drags their faces close until there’s no more space.

Time doesn’t feel like it’s passed, but sometime afterward anyway Ennoshita bursts into the gym and says, “Kageyama, Hinata, are you – oh,” and then they have to walk through the locker room, Tanaka wolf-whistling and Nishinoya cheering, “Well done, Shoyo!” and Sugawara with his crossed arms, grinning. Tsukishima’s smirking, more like, and Yamaguchi’s giggling into his hand; Daichi says, “Don’t let this interfere with your practice,” but something in his smile reads that he doesn’t think it will. Kiyoko says, “Congratulations,” on their way out.

They’re holding hands, though. Tobio catches a glimpse of Hinata from the corner of his eye before remembering that he doesn’t have to avoid it anymore. The locker room lights look brighter than the sun’s.

The next day Tobio joins him at lunch again, sits a little closer than usual, snatches out food from between Hinata’s chopsticks with his mouth when Hinata’s not looking. Hinata protests indignantly and tries to steal some of Tobio’s meal. Tobio almost pushes him off the bench.

He tries to draw out their walks home, catches Hinata’s hand in his when Hinata leasts expects it, kisses him good morning every day when he gets to school. Hinata blushes and sneaks into Tobio’s class during free period and sits on his desk, pushed over once by Tsukishima, right into Tobio’s lap. Tobio almost fought with him, except his cheeks were so pink that Tsukishima just laughed and went on his way.

Tobio sometimes buys two milks and Hinata sometimes gets them extra meat buns to split for dinner and Tobio doesn’t know why they hadn’t done this in the first place. When they split after school and practices, Tobio kisses him and Hinata says, “See you tomorrow,” always looking like something new, and Tobio heads home, ready for the next day.

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Friendly Fire

by aroceu

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© 2009-2026 aroceu