Archive of Our Own ^beta

      It happened during a match.

One moment Shouyou was soaring as he always did, his hand outstretched and nearly, just nearly , reaching the ball and the next he was stumbling- falling face-first to the ground.

“Shouyou!” exclaimed one of his teammates, darting towards where the boy had collapsed on the ground.

Breathing heavily, the ginger stared up at them and managed a reassuring grin. “I’m fine,” he told them, slightly wobbling as he stood up- then fell back down, gasping as sudden pain erupted in his joints. Maybe he should wear knee pads more often? And… ankle pads? Whatever. Surely, it wasn’t something serious; that stuff only happened in the movies, right?

“Hinata, come sit down,” called the coach, patting the spot by his side on the bench. Shouyou half-jogged, half-limped towards it and took a seat. “Does it hurt?” the man asked, keeping his eyes on the match while the ginger fidgeted.

"Yeah,” he admitted. Would he keep him out of the match? Would he be kept off the court?

“You should get an X-ray,” the coach said and that was it. Neither of them said anything else until the match was over.

Shouyou had been kept off court for the remainder of it.

      “Here,” said the assistant and handed the doctor the X-ray results.

“Oh,” sighed the man and stole a glance at the obviously very active boy in front of him who fidgeted and squirmed in his seat, restless. Once every couple of moments, his body would be shaken by dry coughs, but he’d pay it no mind- his mind was obviously elsewhere as he absentmindedly stared at the TV in the waiting room, which was displaying some older, obscure, volleyball match.

The boy was rooting for the losing team, but the doctor didn’t have the heart to tell him.

Averting his eyes from the sunny boy, he turned his attention to his almost-just-as-bright mother.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, and instantly cringed. Really, that was the worst possible thing to say.

“What is it?” The man really wished he could say that she sounded resigned, but she was hopeful, and very obviously so. Concerned too, but the hope in her voice was almost enough to break him.

He didn’t, though. Break, that is. “Pulmonary fibrosis.” He gestured to the vague outline of a scar tissue. “Severe.”

The mother’s first reaction was to look at her son. Unaware of his affliction, the boy just kept staring at the TV screen, grinning triumphantly when his favoured team managed to score, against all odds.

The doctor knew that would be the last time they did. After this, it would take the other team only twenty minutes to wipe the floor with them.

      “Hello, I’m going to be your doctor. My name’s…” A glance at the patient’s face. “My name’s Kenma.”

“Hi, Kenma! I’m Shouyou!”

Even after switching to a completely different type of medication, Shouyou still held strong in face of the hurricane raging both around him and inside him, in his lungs. There was no fear in his face, only longing as he watched the screen of his tablet and his university’s match playing on it.

So close. He’d been so close. Closer to his dream, more than ever.

“How are you feeling today?” asked Kenma, leaning closer to the boy without actually meaning to.

“Great!” smiled Shouyou and Kenma was mad at himself for seeing right through it and into what pain the other was currently going through. Not that he’d call him out on it though.

“That’s good,” he replied instead, ignoring how the ginger’s shoulders slumped in relief at having been humored. “Do you need anything? If you’re in pain, I can ask for some painkillers.”

Kenma already knew the other’s reply, but he might as well try.

“Nah, thanks. I’m fine!” And here he smiled, as if trying to prove it. Not fooled, Kenma just nodded and headed back outside. Sliding the door shut, he turned to the two who had asked him to check up on Shouyou.

His mother and his sister, he’d assumed, and he’d been right.

Shaking his head, he looked away from them. “Won’t open up to me either,” he admitted, scared of looking at the two in front of him. The daughter had taken ahold of her mother’s skirt and hidden her face in its folds.

“Ah,” sighed the woman, looking older than the day before. “Thank you, doctor,” she said and bowed.

Taken aback, Kenma stopped her.

“No need to bow,” he said, desperately trying not to seem uncomfortable and probably failing. “I’m almost the same age as your son, there’s no need to bow.”

Managing a small smile, she nodded and stepped inside Shouyou’s room; the little girl followed her, letting out a delighted squeal as she leapt in her brother’s arms.

Shouyou laughed and Kenma’s heart squeezed at the sound.

      Spring was unexpectedly cool this year. 

There was almost nobody outside except Kenma, and even he could feel the chill in the air. Rubbing his palms together, he turned his attention from his paused game to the trees around him. They weren’t exactly in bloom, but a couple of days was probably all that it would take for the buds to open.

“Is that interesting?” inquired a voice from behind him and Kenma turned to meet the other’s eyes. Shouyou was smiling.

“Not really,” he muttered, shifting to the side so the boy could sit next to him. When Shouyou sidled closer, he told himself that the other was probably just cold. “I’m just killing time.”

“Can I try?” His eyes were sparkling, and how could Kenma possibly say no?

“Sure,” he murmured and handed him the Switch.

A few minutes later, Shouyou was fully engrossed and had even managed to clear a couple of levels.

“My break’s over,” Kenma informed his companion. When the ginger handed him his device, he just pushed it back into his hands. “You can borrow it. I’m coming by pretty often anyway.”

Silence filled the pause as he hesitated. He decided to go with the flow.

Unwrapping the scarf from around his neck, he tied it around Shouyou’s bare one. “Take this, you look cold.”

Kenma hurried back inside before he could chicken out or Shouyou could reply. He hid his smile from Kuroo when he stepped out of the cold, but his friend just grinned at him all-knowingly before turning back to his patient, a small seven-year-old.

Spring suddenly wasn’t that cold anymore.

      Fine. Shouyou was fine. That was what the ginger kept telling everybody, even as the test results came in.

They weren’t bad.

No, they really weren’t. They were beyond “bad”, way beyond- well into “horrid” and “nightmarish” territory.

Shouyou had cancer. 

Lung cancer, to be exact. Kenma should have expected it, with it being one of the possible complications of pulmonary fibrosis and all, but it was Shouyou . Who would even expect- who would expect the actual human equivalent of sunshine to have something as appalling as lung cancer ?

“Ah,” was the only thing Shouyou said when being shown the diagnosis. His smile didn't change, but it now seemed sad to Kenma. A thought seemed to cross Shouyou’s mind and he bolted upright, throwing his feet to the side to dangle off the bed so he could look Kenma properly into the face. “Volleyball?” His voice cracked and so did Kenma’s heart. “Will I still be able to play?”

Ah, how cruel a thing is fate. “There…” He really, really shouldn’t be giving him false hopes, but it was a possibility; maybe that possibility would boost Shouyou’s morale enough for him to get better sooner. Or at least get better in general. “There is…” Maybe it wouldn’t be terminal. Lung cancer can… Lung cancer can be cured. Not always, but still. “The possibility does exist,” was what he settled with, and if his heart hadn’t already fractured in face of Shouyou’s desperation, his hopeful face after hearing his response might’ve done the trick.

“Oh, that’s great!” exclaimed the boy and leaned back on the pillows, letting them half-swallow him.

He looked smaller and frailer than ever. Nobody, nobody should ever look like that. Most of all Shouyou, who was the sun. Not just to Kenma, but to everybody around him.

To everybody who’d visited him and struggled with tears:

To his teammates from the university.

To his former high school classmates.

To his scary best friend.

And to his little sister, most of all.

      Kuroo found Kenma sitting by himself in the hallway, with his head in his hands. Not saying anything, he sat down next to him.

A few minutes had passed when he finally spoke. “You OK?”

Kenma said nothing. Just lifted his face from his palms and stared at the floor.

His eyes were red-rimmed.

Kuro threw his arm around his friend’s shoulders, decidedly glaring away anyone who came close to them.

A deep breath, which shuddered as it entered Kenma’s lungs. When he stood up though, he was steady on his feet. He glanced at Kuroo out the corner of his eye.

“I’m going to cure cancer,” he stated, then walked away.

Kuroo smiled grimly. He wouldn’t put it past his best friend, but would he really be able to cure cancer before it was too-

No, he’d do it.

Kenma always succeeded in anything he put his mind to.

      “-and then we were like ‘It wasn’t us, I swear! The piece of salami has gotten there on its own!’” finished Nishinoya, grinning widely at Shouyou, who laughed brightly.

Tanaka and Noya watched him with poorly masked concern, as if expecting him to break into a coughing fit right in front of them. That didn’t happen, but Kenma felt that they were completely right to be afraid- he’d never meet someone as talented as Shouyou when it came to hiding his suffering.

“And then? What happened then?” asked Shouyou, staring at them with enthusiastic eyes. He met Kenma’s gaze and his smile turned even wider; he probably hadn’t noticed the blond until then. “Kenma! Hi! These are my senpais, Nishinoya-san and Tanaka-san!” he said, gesturing to the two.

Were they still considered his senpais if they weren’t in high school anymore? No matter. “Hello,” he greeted the two, unable to say anything else. Social interaction was exhausting- he’d reached his limit before noon.

“Oh, so you’re Kenma!” exclaimed Nishinoya, scanning him as if he were evaluating his worth.

What did he mean by that? Had Shouyou- A glance thrown the ginger’s way, who was glowing scarlet, proved his theory to be true.

Huh .

Masking his growing blush with the clipboard he’d been holding for a while now, although it was utterly useless (he’d already memorised all of Shouyou’s file some time ago), Kenma just stared at the ground. A couple of moments passed before he remembered what he’d come to do.

“Shouyou, we need you to take another X-ray,” he said, trying to say it in a way that would cause the other the least concern possible. It seemed successful at first sight, but Shouyou had been harder to read lately- almost impossible.

“Well then, Shouyou, we’ll come by again next week! Kageyama is coming tomorrow, I think, but he’ll probably tell you he was just passing by!” Here Nishinoya laughed, patting Shouyou on the shoulder; though not as hard as he’d used to though- almost gingerly now, as if he were afraid the other would break beneath his touch.

Shouyou seemed to notice this, but he smiled nonetheless. “Goodbye, Nishinoya-san, Tanaka-san! See you next week!”

After the two were out of the room, his body turned limp and he let himself slump back into the pillows on his bed. He heaved a sigh and Kenma dimly wondered if the ginger remembered that he was still in the room.

“Kenma,” called Shouyou and the blond inched closer to him. That answered his question. Shouyou turned his head so their eyes met. “Will I get better?”

Damn everything in this whole world and most of all whoever has decided giving Hinata freaking Shouyou cancer would be acceptable.

Fighting the impulse to flip off the heavens and the whole concept of fate, Kenma took a deep breath. What Shouyou was looking for was the truth. The blunt and horrible truth.

“The chances are… The chances are small.”

No reaction from the other, except for an unsurprised “Hm~”. That hurt Kenma more than any rage-fest the other could’ve spat his way.

“But I will do my best to cure you,” promised Kenma.

It sounded lame, so very lame, in face of the crippling threat of cancer and death. In face of Hinata Shouyou’s permanent disappearance from this plane of existence.

“I know,” smiled Shouyou.

      It was the greyest and most inclement autumn Kenma had felt in a very long while.

Clouds had been crowding the sky for several weeks already, and the sun only shone for brief, erratic intervals.

With Shouyou thinner and paler than ever, Kenma refused to think about the symbolism of it all.

“No way!” exclaimed the ginger, frowning as his character got beaten by the boss once more. “I swear I’m doing everything you’ve told me to!”

“Hm…” pondered Kenma, finding it hard to focus on the game when the other was so close to him. His hair was slightly faded, but his smile -which fought against his pout as he stared at Kenma- remained as bright as ever. “Have you activated-” He gingerly took the device from Shouyou’s hands. Gingerly not because the other was sick, but because he’d recently found out that if he made the notion hesitantly and delicately, their fingers would touch for that fraction of a moment more. He flipped through the menu of the game, “No, you haven’t activated the resurrection power. I thought I told you to-”

He stopped- Shouyou was laughing.

Kenma glanced at the ginger and their eyes met. Shouyou stopped chuckling in favour of smiling at his friend, and Kenma had absolutely no problem with that.

Realising they’d been staring at each other for a while now, Kenma’s throat constricted. He didn’t look away though.

Shouyou moved his hand so that it was over Kenma’s. Only hesitating for half a second, the blond gripped it and squeezed. Shouyou’s smile shifted into something different, and Kenma couldn’t exactly tell what it had changed.

“Ken-” he stopped. His eyes widened and his grip on Kenma’s hand grew painful.

The heart monitor started going crazy beside him.

“Nurse!” called Kenma, terrified as Shouyou’s expression kept changing under his eyes. “Call the nurses and get-” he paused. Pushed the button next to the bed. That should tell them what to bring.

Hurry .

Shouyou’s breathing had become shallow and rapid. His fingers gripped Kenma’s hard enough to hurt, but they were starting to slip and Kenma decided not to take that as a sign for anything.

Everything would be alright.

Outside, thunder boomed and rain hit the window aggressively. The sun was hidden behind the clouds.

A choking sound escaped Shouyou and his breathing grew even more laboured. His hand had slipped from Kenma’s, and it was now Kenma whose fingers searched for Shouyou’s.

“Nurse!” he called once more and his voice broke on the word. Far off, he could hear hurried steps in the hallway.

Their eyes met and the sound of a violent wave of rain hitting the windowpane might as well have been Kenma’s heart breaking.

Beep. 

Beep. 

Beeeeeeeeep.