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i.
It’s spring when Hinata is clutching tightly onto Oikawa’s shirt, knuckles are a pale white against his black tee. They’re standing in the middle of never-ending waves of the morning rush, still and silent like stones even as people push them towards the inevitable. Hinata’s grip tightens even more at the thought, as if his hold would be enough to keep time away.
They’re not stupid; they notice the glances of the people forced to move around them, a variety ranging from blatant disgust to sympathetic sadness. But neither Oikawa nor Hinata mention it when they both feel the unwanted gazes of people on them, and they instead feel how the other’s heartbeat started to thrum against their own, synchronizing, until it’s all they can focus on.
(Until it’s all they want to focus on.)
The morning rush dies down gradually, taking with it the remaining minutes the two had left, and the last bit of self-control that Hinata had forced himself to possess; he’s soon dragging Oikawa down to his height, foreheads pressing together along with their lips. It’s a bittersweet kiss, and Hinata internally laughs because that was what this entire relationship felt like now, that the one thing he needed to comfort himself only made it worse.
He doesn’t pull away, though, until he remembers that air is a necessity and that time is a luxury quickly dwindling. Time had always been a luxury within their relationship, one that they knew they couldn’t afford forever.
Oikawa kisses Hinata this time, but it’s slow and tender, the emotions behind it drowning Hinata with how painful his genuinity was and the amount of love that overflowed into everything. He wants to cry; he wants to cry when time finally reaches zero, and everything is crumbling.
It’s the loud arrival of the train that forces them apart; it’s the loud departure of the train that keeps them apart.
But Hinata makes a silent, solitary vow to make their time limitless one day; not today, not tomorrow, but one day. He finds that he’s willing to wait eternities for him, even if it meant spending them by himself.
ii.
Volleyball doesn’t feel the same without his old senpais and rivals, and Hinata shares his thoughts with the remaining members of the old team; they agree with him, but instead of dwelling on the impending sadness of nostalgia, Tanaka and Noya speak louder and happier, as if it was their job to keep everyone happy.
The old members smile at the duo, but they can’t deny the truth behind Hinata’s statements; it was a thought that they all shared, but never spoke about until now, as if it was a taboo in their team.
Tsukishima is the first to figure out Hinata’s thoughts and all of the meaning behind it. As much as he denies it, he knows that he cares for the small crow. But he doesn’t say anything, he just observes like usual because that was what he always did and that was all that he could do.
His suspicions are proven true when Karasuno has to fight the new team of Seijoh during the Inter-High. His eyes don’t miss how Hinata’s smiles don’t really radiate anymore, how his eyes always try to avoid the green of the uniforms, and how his shoulders slumped over until Hinata was smaller than ever before.
The match ends up being a power struggle the entire time, all 3 sets going into a deuce. He sees the weariness on everyone’s face, even Tanaka’s, but when the first years start to cheer on their elders and the gym goes loud with Karasuno’s cheering, Tsukishima knows that’s it not the weariness sunken deep into Hinata’s bones; he glances over, and sees the distant look in his eyes.
In the end, Karasuno wins anyway. Tsukishima doesn’t make a bitter comment about how it resembled the end of Aoba Johsai’s season last year, and in extension, the 3rd years’ high school volleyball career.
(Hinata knows what’s Tsukishima is thinking; he also knows when a golden pair of eyes are looking at him, examining him. He just doesn’t bother anymore.
Patience is painful without a single text or call to tell Hinata that someone loves — loved? — them.)
iii.
It’s a month after their win at Inter-High that Hinata announces his break from the volleyball team.
The first years are confused beyond belief, pleading for him to stay because they needed him; the third years are confused but they smile anyway, albeit strained, as they moved to the corner to talk about it. Yamaguchi and Yachi are looking at Hinata with tears in their eyes, Yachi trying to spit out words that only ended in a mess as Yamaguchi comforted her.
Kageyama is pissed, and he doesn’t hesitate in his anger when he grabs Hinata by the collar and slamming him against the walls of the court; his aura is dark, face curled into a sneer as he talks about the promises him and the middle blocker had made. His voice gets angrier and angrier with each second passing by without a single response from his partner until the silence is broken by sound of a loud crack and a pained yell, ‘ because how fucking dare you come in and say that, you piece of sulking shit; how dare you’.
It’s the third years who react first after the escaped, broken sob of Yachi. Their words are harsh and tones disappointing as they try to pull Kageyama away, their nails digging into his skin to get him to let go; it isn’t until his own blood is mingling with Hinata’s that he finally pulls away without a single glance back.
Yamaguchi is the one who notices the clear drops falling into the pool of blood near Hinata’s unmoving body. He wants to get closer to him, to comfort him, but his arms are curled around Yachi’s tiny shaking form, her words still a jumbled mess as she relives the fight from last year. Yamaguchi looks away, and stays where he is.
But his eyes are still watching Hinata, even when he finally moved from the bloody spot, eyes red and puffy as the drops of blood trickled down from his nose.
He notices how the small middle blocker dragged his feet as he walked, shoulder hunched over as he curled into himself, and how his gaze seemed fixed permanently on the floor along with the sadness in his eyes; was the sadness always there?
The heavy weight of guilt sinks into Yamaguchi’s stomach as he watches the first years make a path for him without any resistance, their stares watching him walk farther and farther away; he doesn’t move to stop Hinata.
He doesn’t come back, and Yamaguchi wants to cry.
Tsukishima observes the whole exchange, like always; a feeling of anger and bitterness wells up in his gut as he watched Kageyama unapologetically bash Hinata for the break, even as the angry gazes of the third years bore into him; he doesn’t stop until he’s threatened to be kicked off as a starter.
Even then, he can still feel the tenseness in the air, and he excuses himself, ignoring the boring stare that followed him out the door.
It’s not until he sees the silent, shaking body of the broken-nosed boy that he realizes what his body automatically led him to. It takes a moment for him to gather himself together until he sits next to the boy, as silent as the sobbing form.
His eyes catch onto the phone sitting out in plain sight, and the date of Oikawa’s last text message. It only takes seconds for him to put everything together, from the sudden, depressing thoughts, the behavior at Inter-High, and the final scene from today.
Oikawa still hasn’t texted or called Hinata since his departure; Tsukishima realizes that Hinata is still waiting.
(And somewhere in the part of him that begrudgingly understood Hinata well, he knew that he’d wait forever.)
iv.
It’s a month later when it’s official: Hinata doesn’t play on the team anymore. His games became limited to the loneliness of public courts, the unfamiliar faces of the temporary team during volleyball night, and the sporadic games between him and Tsukishima that really just ends up in them sitting close to each other with the volleyball between them.
It’s almost always silent on his part, content to actually hear Tsukishima talk about Karasuno without a sneer on his face or sarcasm in his tone. He knows that the middle blocker wouldn’t have been able to do that last year, and he smiles softly at the thought.
The minutes tick by along with the one-sided conversation before the words slowly emptied out and there was too much time on Hinata’s hands for once; he doesn’t want this luxury.
He swallows the lump in his throat as he remembers that day, the one that haunts him at night when he’s alone, and he wants to cry. He goes to stand up, hand already reaching up to wipe any future tears when Tsukishima stands up with him; he’s distracted enough to miss the first teardrop and to let a slight hiccup escape him.
The intensity of the taller’s golden eyes makes Hinata flinch, eyes immediately moving away to avoid that look; he knows he won’t get away until Tsukishima told him what he needed to, so he waits.
(Like usual.)
Except he doesn’t expect the feeling of a large, calloused hand land on his head; it stays there, not moving, for a moment. Hinata starts to shift his gaze onto his friend once more until the hand suddenly moves the tiniest amount, ruffling a small patch of his hair.
It’s fleeting, and before he could say anything, the hand was gone and back in Tsukishima’s pocket. Despite the short moment, he gives his fellow middle blocker a tiny, genuine smile, the first one in a long while; it grows slightly bigger when he sees the lips on the other person’s face curve up just the smallest amount.
“Hinata,” he starts. “Text him.” Then he’s gone, just like him.
But brown eyes watch the figure with nothing resembling bitterness or wistfulness; just a tinge of amusement.
v.
[ 7:53 pm ] Hinata: Let’s meet up again, and clear up everything between us, Oikawa.
[ 8:32 pm ] Oikawa: Sure. I’m heading down there for family soon. Miyagi train station @ 8 am next Friday?
[ 8:34 pm ] Hinata: Sure, see you then.
[ 8:39 pm ] Oikawa: See you later.
[ 8:40 pm ] Oikawa: Chibi-chan.
vi.
The feeling of familiarity blossoms in Hinata’s chest when he stands in the middle of the nearly empty train station, the few people grumbling as they drank their coffee to make up lost sleeping time, all just to avoid the morning crowd.
Despite the amount of empty seats in the station, the middle blocker doesn’t take a single one, just standing in the middle of the landing where he had stood almost year ago, hands clutching onto Oikawa as if he was a lifeline; he closes his eyes, a sad smile gracing his features.
He hated how now, Oikawa was the catalyst for his self-destruction, but the remedy for it as well.
His eyes don’t open again until he hears the loud clamoring of people entering the train station, ready to begin another day of work, ready to repeat the cycle again; he doesn’t move until the crowd of people grew bigger, the workers more forceful, and his knees threatened to give out at the idea of seeing Oikawa again.
It’s only a few moments later when the crowd suddenly decreases in size for a second before filling back up again that it’s only a matter of time — how fitting — until--
“Chibi-chan!”
The warmest, brown eyes that Hinata’s ever seen in his life are right in front of him again. It’s accompanied by the cheesiest, most genuine grin, arms spread out so wide and ready for him to jump into that Hinata forgets everything in the past; he blames it on the people that told him to live in the present as he presses his nose into the junction of Oikawa’s neck and shoulders.
Soon, the scene was playing itself again with waves and waves of the crowd surrounding them as they held onto each other for the first time in months; the first time in months that a single thought relating to Oikawa didn’t make Hinata want to cry out of sadness.
And maybe this happiness was only momentary, but Hinata finds that he doesn’t mind; as long as he could hold him in his arms happily one more time was plenty enough; and as he felt the repressed tears of the previous months finally escape, his sobs muffled as he pressed his lips against the skin, all he could do was shakily murmur the words that he had been nursing for months.
“Everything comes back to you.”