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The final whistle blew, and the crowd erupted as Kageyama’s team secured their victory. Sweat dripped down his face, his heart still pounding from the intensity of the match. 

“-and there you have it, folks! Another victory for the Schweiden Adlers!”

The crowd went wild. Cheers echoed through the stadium.  

Kageyama looked into the crowds above. Lights flashed and banners waved, celebrating yet another victory for his team.

Before he could even catch his breath, Hoshiumi  clapped him hard on the back, grinning wide.

“Go on, Kageyama! Time to face the reporters,” Hoshiumi  teased, shoving him toward the sea of flashing cameras and eager microphones. Kageyama stumbled forward, glaring at his teammate, but there was no escape. The reporters swarmed, and with a deep breath, he prepared himself for the onslaught of questions.

A young woman stepped forward among the crowd of seasoned reporters, looking both nervous and determined. She clutched her notepad tightly, her hand trembling slightly as she adjusted her glasses. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, but there was an unmistakable hint of apprehension as she approached the towering figure of Kageyama Tobio.

"Excuse me, Kageyama-san," she began, her voice soft but steady. She looked up at him, offering a polite smile, clearly trying to hide her nervousness. 

“Congratulations! Another great win for your team! How do you feel about your most recent victory?”  

Kageyama nodded and looked straight into the camera. His face was blank as always.

“Good,” He said firmly “I enjoy winning.” 

There was a slight pause as the reporter looked between him and the camera team. She seemed unsure how to keep the conversation going after having received such a bland response. 

“W-Well, you are truly an inspiring athlete! I’m sure many young aspiring athletes around Japan look up to you. Can you tell us about how you fell in love with volleyball?” 

Kageyama, still catching his breath, blinked at the question. He took a moment, his usual sharp, focused expression faltering as he thought about it. "Love?" he repeated as if the word was foreign. Then, with a calm yet almost dismissive air, he straightened up, looking straight into the camera to address the reporters with confidence.

“I do not love volleyball.” He admitted unabashedly. 

The crowd around him seemed to become silent at his answer. He looked back at the reporter who was now unable to mask her discomfort. 

Did he say something wrong? Perhaps he should clarify. 

He leaned forward into the microphone again. He started by clearing his throat. 

“Volleyball is just a way of life," he explained, his eyes narrowing in focus. "It’s something you do. You work at it, you get better, you win—simple as that. There’s no emotion in it for me, no special feeling. It’s not love, it’s just... necessary." Kageyama nodded to himself. He was confident that he had articulated himself perfectly now. 

However, the words hit hard, leaving the audience silent for a moment. Reporters exchanged glances, unsure how to respond to such a stark, unemotional take on the sport that had brought him so far. Kageyama, for his part, seemed unfazed, his tone steady as if stating an obvious fact. How could such a simple concept bring such discomfort? He did not get up every morning to train because of love. What a ridiculous concept. 

As the interviewers scribbled down his words, their expressions a mix of intrigue and surprise, Kageyama stood tall, certain of his perspective. For him, volleyball had never been about passion or love—it had always been about the pursuit of perfection, a quest to be the best. That was it, nothing more. 

He saw one of the producers behind the cameras gesture something to the young reporter. Perhaps a gesture for her to keep things going. Kageyama noticed her begin to stutter. As if she was struggling.  He had to bite back a sigh of annoyance. He’d like to go and stretch. 

“Well, there must have been moments where you felt love for the sport—"

Ah.

Moments.

Flashes of memories—no, moments —rushed through Kageyama’s mind like a reel on fast-forward.

A moment when he did love the game.

His heart swelled with warmth. He remembered the squeak of shoes on the Karasuno high school gym floor, the echoes of laughter around him, and the sharp thwack of the ball hitting the other side of the court after a perfect spike. Blurs of orange danced in his mind, and he could almost hear a familiar voice behind him shouting, “Toss me another one!”

Tobio Kageyama blinked, his gaze falling back on the camera. The cameraman stilled, startled by the uncharacteristic softness in his usually intense eyes.

“As I said, I don’t love volleyball—” Kageyama began, but his words faltered for a beat. He took a breath and continued. “But there were moments… moments that came close. But I haven’t felt anything like that since I graduated from—”

“Alright, that’s enough-”  

He felt a tug on his uniform and suddenly felt himself being ushered out of the way. 

“Kageyama is needed for an extra urgent team meeting. Thank you for coming” He heard Hoshiumi’s voice buzzing in Kageyama’s ear as they walked away from the reporters. A sense of relief washed over him—at least he didn’t have to answer any more questions. Interviews had always felt strange to him, but this one left him particularly unsettled. Something about it made him feel... anxious.

As they rounded the corner, a teammate clapped him on the back.

“Why are all your post-game interviews so weird?”

Kageyama blinked in confusion. “Weird?” He frowned. “I was just telling the truth.”

Hoshiumi burst out laughing, throwing his head back as they approached the locker room. “Yeah, well, maybe not everyone needs to hear all of your truths.” He snickered. “We seriously need to get you some PR training.”

“Don’t worry,” Ushijima’s calm voice chimed in from behind. “The coach told me the same thing once. I think your interviews are fine, just like mine.”

Kageyama stopped, staring blankly at Ushijima. If he thought his interviews were “perfectly fine”… maybe Kageyama did need to improve his skills after all.

After the interview, Kageyama made his way back to the locker room, feeling the usual post-game exhaustion mixed with lingering adrenaline. He hadn’t thought much about what he’d said—after all, it was the truth. But as soon as he walked through the door, his coach and team manager were waiting for him, looking furious.

"Kageyama!" his coach barked, pulling him aside, eyes blazing. "What the hell was that out there?"

Kageyama blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

Did he do something wrong during the game? Was his form off today? 

No that couldn't be it, he reasoned immediately, his form was flawless. 

His coach’s expression tightened with frustration. "That interview! You told the entire world you don’t love volleyball!"

His team manager, standing beside the coach, chimed in, crossing her arms. "That’s bad press, Kageyama. Very bad press. You can't come across like some emotionless machine or, worse like you're just a slave to the game."

Kageyama frowned. "But that’s how I feel. Volleyball isn’t about love for me; it’s just—"

The manager cut him off, her tone sharp. "No. You need to love volleyball, Kageyama. You’ve got countless fans, and kids who look up to you. If you don’t inspire them to love volleyball, they’ll stop watching. And if people stop watching, we can’t justify keeping you on as a star player."

The words hit Kageyama like a spike to the gut. He hadn’t considered the broader impact of his words. To him, it was just honesty, but now he was realizing it had consequences.

The coach stepped in again, his tone a little calmer now but still stern. "Look, we know you’re one of the best setters in the world. But part of this job is more than just playing—you’re a public figure now. You need to sell your love for this sport. If people think you’re only here out of obligation, it’s going to kill your image and ours!"

“It’ll look like we force people to play against their will!” The manager shook her head, frustration evident in her voice. “I can picture the ‘ Free Kageyama ’ protests already.” She sighed deeply, speaking mostly to herself. “You need to fix this and tell people you love volleyball!” She jabbed a finger into his chest. 

"And let’s be honest: you’re terrible at lying. Just saying you love volleyball won’t be enough. You need to show genuine love for the game to clean up this PR mess. If the audience can tell you’re disingenuous, and they will ,  it’ll ruin your image even more. I know you don’t care about your image as long as you get to play, but you have to realize that how you present yourself matters to the team."

Kageyama clenched his fists at his sides, the weight of their words pressing down on him. He was certain that he had zero love for the sport. There was no way he could get up in front of the cameras to put on a convincing show. "So what do you want me to do? Pretend?"

His coach took a deep breath, softening his tone. "You don’t have to pretend. Just find a way to communicate your passion and love for the game.”

“But you need to do it soon,” The team manager cut through. “Or this could hurt not just you, but the entire team."

Kageyama felt the tension in the room thicken. He was a setter, not a performer. "What do you mean soon?" he asked, his voice rising.

The manager glanced at the calendar on the wall. "You have another match coming up in a few days, and we’ll need you to do an interview immediately after to correct this."

Frustration surged through Kageyama. "A few days? How am I supposed to fabricate love in just a few days?"

His coach raised an eyebrow. "It’s not about fabricating it, Kageyama. It’s about finding it within yourself. You love the game; it's in there…I think.” The ‘ I hope’ was silent.

“…deep down" Coach finished slowly. 

“And you gotta dig it up and show it to the world or we’re all doomed!” The manager cried out throwing her arms into the air. 

Kageyama shook his head, feeling overwhelmed. He knew he had to figure something out quickly, but how could he summon feelings he was certain didn’t exist? How could he communicate something that felt so foreign to him? The thought of having to face the media again in a matter of days made him anxious.

“Do some soul searching, or whatever it is you athletes do.” the manager urged, her voice firm. 

“We’re counting on you.” The coach said, patting his shoulder. 

Kageyama sighed, his mind racing. He had no choice but to find a way to express feelings that he was certain did not exist. 

He was done for. 

“Did you get in trouble, Tobio?” Hoshiumi greeted him in the locker -room. 

Kageyama found himself stumbling into the team’s locker room. He sat down at the nearest bench. His mind reeling from what had just unfolded. 

Yes - volleyball was just a way of life for him. He was also aware that it was the only way of life for him. 

He buried his face into his palms. 

If he lost the chance to play volleyball, he’d have nothing. 

“I need to confess that I love volleyball or I'm off the team.” Tobio’s voice cracked in defeat. 

“Well that's easy. You love volleyball, don't you?” 

“I don’t.” 

“Then lie-”

“Coach says I can’t do that either. The people can tell apparently.” 

“Yeah, he’s got a point.” He heard his other teammate confirm from the showers. 

Kageyema turned to Hoshiumi. “Do you love volleyball?” He said as he pulled out his gym bag. 

Hoshiumi snorted as he folded his uniform. 

“Of course, I'm not an idio-...” He stopped himself as he noticed Kageyama’s deep scowl. “I mean - uh…yes of course, why would I be here otherwise?” He finished with a grin. 

“How do you know that it's love? What does it feel like?” Hoshiumi stopped again and thought about his answer before looking back. His eyes were shining bright. 

“The everlasting thrill of the perfect spike!” He proclaimed and swung his arm down as a demonstration. “The feeling of adrenaline and excitement never gets old! It is a high I am constantly chasing. That is love.” 

Kageyama paused to process what he had just heard. He doesn’t spike too often, but it is nice when he gets to it now and again. 

Would the perfect set make him feel that way? 

He does get excited, but that thrill only comes from scoring a point. 

Kageyama fought to recall a time when the perfect set made him feel that kind of adrenaline and excitement. One that didn’t just result in scoring points. 

He began to think back to all the games and practices he had in his life. Hoshiumi stood confused and wondered why his setter was scowling all of a sudden. 

“And you feel this every time?” Kageyama asked, his voice wavering slightly.

“Without fail. Since I started playing, the thrill has only gotten greater! It wouldn’t be love if it was only temporary,” Hoshiumi replied confidently.

Kageyama’s heart sank. That didn’t help at all. If anything, it made things worse.

The only time he felt that kind of thrill—the kind that consumed him—was back during his time at Karasuno.  A moment that stood out like a thorn was his time during the training camp in high school. He remembered the moment vividly, the rush of excitement and adrenaline when he finally perfected a new set for his middle blocker. Hours upon hours of practice, all culminating in one perfect play. The satisfying thud of the water bottle toppling to the side as the ball struck the floor, the result of his perfect toss.

But more than that, he remembered the warmth that bloomed in his chest when Hinata hit that perfect set. The timing, the pace, their movements synchronized like clockwork. A chill ran up his spine as he recalled the sharp ‘bang’ of the ball as it sailed cleanly over the net, untouched. It was perfect.

That feeling had stayed with him—until he graduated from Highschool.

Since then, nothing has come close to matching that rush. Not the national tournaments, not the pro games, not even the Olympics. Nothing. And now, hearing Hoshiumi talk about how the excitement had only grown for him over the years, Kageyama felt something deflate inside. His hand unconsciously went to his chest, feeling the emptiness where that thrill used to be.

“Maybe…” Kageyama hesitated, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. “Maybe I did love volleyball once but not anymore?”

Hoshiumi blinked, his confident demeanor faltering as he stared at Kageyama, clearly at a loss. 

“I… I have no idea what you’re talking about, man.”

The next day, after a grueling practice session, Kageyama wiped the sweat from his brow and set his sights on a familiar figure across the gym. Ushijima stood alone by the sidelines, methodically packing his gear. 

“Ushijima, do you love volleyball?” 

Ushijima stopped in his movements and looked up at Kageyama. His face was blank. 

“Do I love volleyball?” He repeated as if he was trying to test out the words.

Kageyama nodded, urging him to answer the question. Surely out of all the people, Ushijima would feel similar to him regarding the issue. Tobio recalled how many said that they were ‘cut from the same cloth’. And while he couldn’t understand what cloths and fabrics had to do with it, he assumed it meant that they were similar.

Ushijima tilted his head up for a brief moment before looking back at the setter. 

“Without a doubt,” he replied, his voice firm and unwavering, as if the question itself was almost unnecessary. 

Kageyama stared at him, the words sinking in. There was no hesitation, no inner conflict in Ushijima’s answer. It was as simple and absolute as the man himself. Kageyama felt a pang of envy; for him, it wasn’t that simple anymore.

“How do you know?” 

Ushijima paused. As if deep in thought. 

“My best friend Tendo once said that I love volleyball like a devoted husband.” 

Kageyama stood still. Waiting for him to elaborate. 

“He said that I pursue volleyball consistently and relentlessly. Everything I do is to become better and stronger for volleyball. Even when it is challenging. Even when I doubt myself. Its a burning desire” Ushijima glanced at Kageyama, his serious expression softening just slightly. “At least…that is how my dear friend described it.” 

“Would you say that that feeling has stayed with you consistently over the years?”

“With certainty.”

"Would you say that that feeling has grown over the years?" 

"With certainty." 

Damn.

“Thank you.” That was all Kageyama could respond with. 

Ushijima simply left with a nod. 

Devoted husband.

Burning desire. 

Well, of course, he had to get better and stronger for volleyball. That’s what it meant to be great, right? But in his present day there was a true absence of that burning desire. 

Was there a time where the pursuit of volleyball ignited him? 

Kageyama's thoughts drifted back to Karasuno, to the first practice game when everything had changed. It was Sugawara who had told him to adjust to Hinata’s skill level—a humbling moment. Kageyama remembered the way his chest had tightened with frustration, then loosened as he set the ball for Hinata’s ridiculous speed. That was the first time they pulled off their now-famous quick attack, and it had completely redefined the way Kageyama thought about setting. That moment had shaped him and pushed him to adapt.

‘Even when it is challenging.’ Tobio recalled the spiker’s words. 

Was there a time when he had to challenge himself significantly to be better? 

Humiliation flared in his chest as the memory surfaced—bowing to Oikawa, begging him for help. He'd swallowed his pride, something he'd never imagined doing, all because he needed to be better—for Hinata. That was the real challenge. Embarrassing? Absolutely. Without volleyball, he never would have stooped that low. Kageyama had always held onto his pride like armor, but in that moment, he would’ve thrown it all away if it meant improving his game, if it meant being better for his teammate.

Kageyama nodded to himself. He could see what Ushijima meant—volleyball had made him stronger, not just as an athlete but as a man. But as the thought lingered, a nagging sensation settled in the pit of his stomach. That drive, that burning determination… when had he last truly felt it?

It had been years since he’d felt the urge to push himself to the edge, since he’d gone begging for help the way he had back in high school. Sure, he trained hard and improved his technique, but those were the result of disciplined, consistent practice. Not burning desire. He hadn’t felt that discomfort, that thrilling challenge, in a long time. Had volleyball become…too routine? And if so, could he really claim to love it?

Tobio found himself tugging at his hair, frustration boiling under the surface. Why did it seem like any shred of "love" he once had for volleyball live in the past? There wasn't a single moment in his present that he could define as love.

He stared blankly at the wall, lost in thought. The weight of his uncertainty settled heavier on his shoulders. 

Snapping back to reality, he realized he had to get home soon. Grabbing his gym bag, he walked down the quiet, dimly lit hallways, each step echoing in the silence. The clock was ticking toward the next game.

Maybe his last.

“You seem troubled, Tobio-kun” 

Kageyama and Sugawara had made a habit of coming to the coffee shop after his practice. He had sought Suga out this time. If the closest experience he had to love was during his time at Karasuno, then it made perfect sense to have someone from that time to help him. 

He thought that having Sugawara in front of him would reignite the fire he had for volleyball. While Kageyama felt comfort in his presence, he felt frustrated realizing that the burning fire he once had remained extinguished. 

“Sugawara -Senpai” He let out a deep groan. His hands were buried in his face. 

“Something wrong?” 

“I need to tell the world that I love volleyball and mean it.”

Sugawara could not hide the visible confusion on his face. 

“Oh…and that is …bad thing?”

“Yes!” The famous setter cried out, throwing his hands into the air. This drew the attention of those around them in the cafe. Sugawara silently apologized to those around them before looking back at his former teammate. 

“You don’t love volleyball?” 

“Not like the others.” He grunted. “And not enough to put on a convincing front on National Television” 

Sugawara-senpai leaned back in his chair. His hand came to his chin as he thought. 

“From what I recall, when you played in high school, you seemed to love volleyball the most out of all of us…well maybe not all…”

This seemed to perk Kageyama up. But then he remembered that the love he felt was not for the sport but for those brief moments. 

He then went on to elaborate on his journey of self-discovery. How he was able to come up with a few moments where he felt that spark and excitement. He talked about how he could relate to those moments of love, but how in his current life, nothing could evoke such feelings. He whined about how those moments were only restricted to a certain time period. If he truly loved something, wouldn’t those feelings of highs and lows stay with him his whole life? Wouldn’t they grow stronger over time like how his teammates described? 

“When I think outside of my time at Karasuno, I don’t get those feelings at all. I never felt this in Junior High or even my time as a Professional…” Kageyama slouched in defeat. 

Sugawara arched his eyebrow. A glint of knowing in his eyes. 

“Is that so…” He said, trying to mask a chuckle. “So you’d say that you haven’t felt love for volleyball in over two years?”

Kageyama nodded in despair,  missing the hint that Sugawara was attempting to drop. 

“Sounds like something is missing,” The former Karasuno setter said slowly. “Or maybe someone …”

“I think our next game is in a few days.” Kageyama continued, not registering what Sugawara was trying to spell out. “ I have to put on a convincing front and tell the world I love volleyball. But I think I'm screwed regardless…” 

“Tobio-chan.”  Sugawara began. His voice was as soft and comforting as Kageyama had always remembered. “Isn’t it obvious?” 

Sugawara seemed to deflate when he saw the scowl of confusion on his face. 

Obvious? Never. 

Gathering all his patience he looked back up at him. 

“If those feelings of love were only present during your time at Karasuno…” He reached out to grab both of Kageyama’s forearms. Kageyama was too shocked by the touch to pull away. “Then you need to go down memory lane.” 

“Memory lane?” 

Sugawara pursed his lips together. He needed Kageyama to come to this conclusion on his own. He realized that if he told him outright, Kageyama would not take it seriously, or worse, he would reject it altogether. 

“Well it seems like you have felt love for the sport, but they're all tied to a person!” Sugawara proclaimed. His bright smile faded when confusion was still etched on Kageyama’s face. 

“Huh?”

The teacher furrowed his brow together. How could he spell it out for this guy? “Don’t find the moment , find the person”

“The person?”

“Yes-the person that made you fall in love …u-uh- with volleyball ” He quickly stammered out, before his junior got suspicious. “Don’t search for a feeling or a moment, Tobio. Find the person that made you fall in love with the game." He said with a gentle smile gracing his face. He was finally confident that he had dropped the perfect amount of hints. 

“I don’t get it.” 

Sugawara’s head dropped, and he released a deep sigh.  

Hopeless.

How could this world-class, genius-setter be so dumb ? 

As Tobio stretched quietly at practice, his mind wandered back to Sugawara’s advice—he needed to find the person, not just the moments. He hadn't figured out what that meant yet, but his reflection was interrupted by a loud crash as Hoshiumi barreled into the gym, his voice echoing across the court.

"At long last! Hinata Shoyo! “ Hoshiumi announced waving what looked like a flyer for an upcoming game. “Now I can finally beat him!" Hoshiumi shouted with glee, his voice booming across the gym.

The team groaned collectively. "Shut up, Hoshiumi!" came from all corners, with some tossing stray towels at him in annoyance. Kageyama remained silent, his irritation growing. Hinata? His rival? No way. Hinata was his rival, not anyone else’s. He felt the frustration bubble up inside him, but kept quiet, stewing in it.

Somewhere in the background, Hoshiumi handed Ushijima the flyer. 

“We will be facing the MSBY Black Jackerals,” Hoshiumi stated. “Looks like Hinata just joined them”. 

That was news to Kageyama. Since when did Hinata get back from Brazil, let alone join a team? And why was Hoshiumi first to share this knowledge with him. What did Hoshiumi know about being rivals with Hinata anyways? 

Frustration and annoyance continued to boil through him. 

Hinata when I find you…

Then, out of nowhere, Ushijima's calm but powerful voice rang out. “Good.” The flyer now crumpled in his left hand. “Hinata Shoyo, I will finally crush you.” 

“Not you too, Ushijima” He heard the libero groan. 

“Who the hell is Hyena?” 

Kageyama blinked in surprise. Ushijima too? Why was Hinata out there making rivalries with everyone? A surge of jealousy hit him hard. Hinata’s was his to defeat. No one was able to beat him the way he could. No one was able to comprehend what it meant to compete with Hinata. 

But then, like a whisper in the wind, Sugawara’s words floated back to him— find the person . 

Realization struck him like lightning. 

Could this be it? Could Hinata be the key to reigniting the fire he had lost? The thought sent a jolt of hope through him. 

Realization hit him. He needed to see Hinata. Now.

Suddenly, Kageyama stood up, startling everyone around him. All eyes turned toward him in confusion.

Kageyama, aware of the small scene he just made, began to panic. 

I gotta say something. He thought desperately. Something that won’t arouse suspicion.  

“I need to take a shit,” He blurted out, instantly regretting it. But it was too late. The words hung in the air, and Kageyama flustered, turned on his heel and stormed off.

As he walked away, fists clenched and face burning with embarrassment, he heard one of his teammates mutter, “Man, he must really need to take a shit…”

Kageyama paced back and forth in his apartment, phone clutched tightly in his hand. He had tried calling Hinata multiple times. He had already lost count. But every single attempt went straight to voicemail. Each ring felt like an eternity, and his frustration boiled over with each unanswered call.

“We’re sorry, the person you are trying to reach is unavailable-”

“Stupid Hinata!” he fumed, his anger pulsing through him like a live wire. “Why did he have to abandon me in my time of need?”

He plopped down on the couch, running a hand through his hair, feeling like he was losing his mind. This was ridiculous. He needed Hinata to help him remember what he loved about volleyball. Why wouldn’t he pick up?

Of course, Hinata would leave him hanging, just like he had before when he went off to Brazil. Kageyama's heart sank at the memory. This was supposed to be his last hope, a chance to reach out to the person who could bring that feeling back. 

Just as he was about to dial again, his phone buzzed, making him jump. He glanced at the screen, seeing a text from Hinata: 

Sry, practice. Call later?

Kageyama huffed, irritation washing over him anew. Of course, he’s at practice. Always practicing. Was two years of practicing in Brazil not enough? He shot back a quick response, 

What kind of practice takes all day?!

He tossed his phone onto the couch, feeling the weight of his frustration settle over him like a heavy blanket. What now? Kageyama sighed, running a hand over his face. He couldn’t just sit around waiting for Hinata. He felt lost as if he were spiralling, and the only lifeline he had was too busy at practice! 

Today was the day.Kageyama had a lot riding on today. Not only did he have to defeat and pummel stupid Hinata and his stupid team to the ground…but he also had to do a stupid interview.
Frustration vibrated through him. After everything, he could not come up with the feelings of love that would put on a convincing front to the world.

He paced back and forth in the locker room, his mind racing. This caught the attention of his teammates who were getting ready beside him. 

“What’s with Kageyama today?”

“Does he have to take a shit again?”

Kageyama could not hear anything around him for the coach’s words haunted him. “If no one watches, we can’t justify keeping you on.” The implications were clear: if he didn’t inspire the masses, his career could be over.

Kageyama glanced at his teammates, all focused on their pre-game rituals, unaware of the storm brewing inside him. 

Everything was at stake.

The stadium buzzed with anticipation, the weight of the game thick in the air as Kageyama Tobio stood on the court, eyes locked on the ball in his hands. Across from him was Hinata Shoyo, his former teammate and forever rival, now standing tall as a wing-spiker for the MSBY Black Jackals. It had been years since they played on the same side, but as he stood before him on the court, Kageyama could not deny the electricity between them. 

He had expected to feel angry when he finally came face to face with him. Angry at Hinata for abandoning him when he needed help. Angry at Hinata for disappearing for two years. Angry at Hinata for not even telling him he was back. But no, looking at his former schoolmate, those feelings of frustration and fury seem to dissipate. 

His eyes locked onto Hinata on the MSBY side, who grinned back with his familiar mischievous energy. But this time, there was something more in that look. It was the look of someone who had been waiting a long time for this. Someone who had been yearning for this. Kageyama couldn’t help but share that feeling. He had been yearning for this too.  

Hinata also got a nice haircut.

The whistle blew, and the match began.

Kageyama set the ball, his hands moving instinctively as he scanned the court. His focus was absolute, but something shifted the moment Hinata leapt for the ball. In an instant, the orange-haired spiker rocketed toward the net, launching himself into the air. The first point belonged to MSBY, a perfectly timed spike that crashed into the Adlerss’ court, unstoppable. 

Kageyama’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching for a moment. His body responded before his mind could catch up—his hands ready, heart racing, adrenaline surging.

“I’m here!” His old companion shouted to the world, the stadium responding in cheers. 

Something inside him seemed to stir wildly. 

Why was he so excited? They just lost a point. 

That feeling must’ve been a fluke. 

But as the game drew on, every time Hinata scored a point, something jolted through him like electricity. He hadn’t felt this kind of thrill in so long and his team wasn’t even winning. Kageyama felt like something awoke inside him. A feeling that brought him back to high school, back to when volleyball wasn’t just a way of life. No, this wasn’t just excitement—this was something more.

The match went on, with Hinata and Kageyama exchanging sharp quips between sets and spikes, their chemistry on the court undeniable. Each time Hinata managed a point, he’d glance at Kageyama with that playful gleam in his eyes, and each time Kageyama would glare back, his expression softening just enough to suggest he was enjoying the back-and-forth as much as Hinata was.

Somehow, impossibly, Hinata was jumping even higher and moving faster than Kageyama remembered. It was mesmerizing.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Kageyama!” Hinata shouted, his voice brimming with excitement after the Adlers scored a point “Your sets are going kill someone someday.” 

Kageyama’s eyes narrowed, but the smirk remained. “Neither have you, dumbass,” he shot back, effortlessly setting the ball for a teammate. “Still flying around like an erratic crow.”

Hinata landed lightly on his feet, bouncing slightly, and grinned. “You haven’t seen how high I can fly yet, so keep your eyes on me ” he teased, brushing off the sweat with a dramatic flair. The sight made Kageyama’s mouth go dry. Hinata winked at Kageyama, who rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the flush creeping up his neck.

“I’m not gonna fall for that, Decoy” Kageyama retorted, trying to keep his tone light, but the playful banter only heightened the tension between them.

Hinata chuckled, the sound bright and infectious, sending a jolt of heat through Kageyama’s body. In places Kageyama would never admit outloud. 

As the game wore on, Kageyama found himself pushing harder and harder, as if drawn into the rhythm of the match by Hinata’s every move. His moves became riskier and bolder. His teammates noticed the shift, the heightened focus, the fire in his eyes. 

“Tobio is on fire today, boys!” Hoshiumi  cheered. “We better keep up!” 

It was Kageyama’s turn to serve. His adrenaline pumping through him. He sent forward perfectly for a monstrous spike, sending the ball flying into MSBY’s court. Hinata barely managed to dig it out, the impact buzzing through his arms. The ball soared perfectly to the MSBY setter. Atsumu then delivered the ball to Bokuto who spiked the ball into the Adlers's court, earning them yet another point. 

Hinata stood up as he grinned across the court. “Not bad, Your Majesty! With a little more practice, you might get a service ace one day.”

Kageyama clicked his tongue. “Don’t get cocky, shrimp.”

It was during one particularly heated rally that they found themselves standing directly across from each other at the net. The ball wasn’t even in play yet, but they were locked in one of those steamy, charged moments of eye contact again.

 Hinata tilted his head slightly, his lips quirking into a knowing smile. “Did you miss me?” he coaxed in a low, teasing tone.

Kageyama’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of heat behind the intensity. “Like how you missed that serve back there?”

Hinata laughed, his voice light, but before he could respond, a loud voice cut through the air from across the court.

“Oi, could you two stop eye-fucking and just play the damn game?” Atsumu’s voice rang out, dripping with mock disgust. He stood with his hands on his hips, his lips curling into a smirk. “Seriously, it’s gross. Get a room.”

Hinata blinked, caught off guard for a split second, before bursting into laughter. Even Kageyama’s stoic mask cracked, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he looked away, muttering under his breath.

“Shut up, Atsumu,” Kageyama growled, his voice low, but it only made Atsumu laugh louder.

“Y’know, I’m just sayin’ what we’re all thinkin’,” Atsumu grinned, winking at Hinata, who was still laughing and wiping at his eyes.

“Seducing the opposing team is not a tactic we discussed during practice.” Bokuto cut through playfully before shooting a smirk at Hinata. “Is this something you learned in Brazil, my disciple?” 

Hinata threw his head back, going into another fit of laughter. The sight of his exposed neck dripped in sweat made Kageyama weak in the knees. 

Kageyama flustered but trying to regain composure, glared at Atsumu before turning his attention  back to Hinata. “Let’s finish this,” he said firmly, trying to regain the upper hand.

“Yeah, you’re finished, alright” Hinata teased slowly. 

“This is gross, guys.”

“We literally just talked about this.” 

The third set was upon them, the tension thick in the air as every player fought tooth and nail for the next point. Kageyama felt a chill creep up his spine, his focus razor-sharp, but his mind couldn’t help drifting to Hinata. 

Every time Kageyama managed to block one of Hinata’s spikes, a familiar thrill surged through him—an exhilarating rush. But each time Hinata slipped past his defenses and scored, it sent a completely different kind of rush through him, something deeper, more intense, that Kageyama couldn’t quite shake.

When was the last time this adrenaline rushed through his veins? When was the last time he felt the untamable thrill of every movement? 

Then, a familiar dash of orange streaked across the court, and in that instant, Tobio knew.

It had been before Hinata left for Brazil.

Every moment—the rush of victory, the sting of defeat, the thrill of competition—it all led back to Hinata. Every single time. Every spike, every block, every point—they all carried traces of the same electric energy, the same person who pushed him to be better.

His throat tightened as the realization hit him with startling clarity. It had always been Hinata.

He swallowed hard, hands tightening around the ball as he brought it to his powerful spiker.

Ushijima unleashed one of his devastating cannon spikes—known across the league for its brute force. And yet, there was Hinata, perfectly positioned, taking the full brunt of it with a flawless receive. Time seemed to slow for Kageyama as he watched Hinata’s body react, light as a feather, powerful as ever.

He didn’t even realize it at first—this feeling that had always been there, buried beneath rivalry and competition. 

This was the love Kageyama had for volleyball, a love he'd lost sight of.

What was he thinking? How could he have ever reduced this game to just a way of life—a series of motions he went through for the sake of victory? He glanced across the court, his gaze finding Hinata effortlessly as if it had always belonged there.

And in that moment, he knew that volleyball would never be the same without him.

His eyes stayed locked on Hinata, who was grinning triumphantly after landing the final point. The scoreboard flashed with the Black Jackals’ victory, but Kageyama didn’t care about the loss. Not in the way he thought he would.

He understood it all now.

His mind drifted back to conversations with his friend, Hoshiumi. He had never quite grasped it when Hoshiumi spoke about the " everlasting thrill ", but it all made sense now. 

Kageyama had played the game like a machine for so long, chasing perfection, chasing victory. But this, this thrill with Hinata, whether they were teammates or rivals—he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this feeling. This was not just a passing moment. 

Suddenly, Ushijima’s words echoed in his head. " I love volleyball like a devoted husband ," Kageyama knew now. It was devotion, commitment, and passion, all tied to something greater than the game itself. 

Even now, as he stood on the losing side, Kageyama didn’t feel defeated. No, instead, something had awakened within him. He wanted to be better, stronger, more than he ever had before. Not just to win for the sake of winning, but to rise to the challenge Hinata presented. He wanted to defeat him, yes—but more than that, he wanted to match him, to meet Hinata’s fire with his own. He wanted to be devoted to him. 

His mind flashed back to Sugawara. 

"Don’t search for the moment, Tobio. Find the person that made you fall in love with the game."

The memory lane opened up wide, and Kageyama recalled all those moments—Hinata sprinting across the court, that determined grin, that insatiable hunger for victory, for improvement. The first time they met, the first time they fought as rivals, and then side by side as teammates.

This was love! A love like no other. 

He loved volleyball. Of course, he loved volleyball. No one could love it the way he did.

What a fool he had been to think otherwise.

"Kageyama, it's time to face the reporters," a voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.

That’s right. The interview. He had to fix this. He had announced to the world a few days ago that he did not love volleyball. He had made a terrible mistake.

Kageyama clenched his fists, his heart pounding with urgency. He needed to tell the world, to shout it if he had to—he loved volleyball. He loved it with every ounce of his being.

Without wasting another second, he stormed toward the group of waiting reporters, determination flashing in his eyes.

“And here comes Kageyama Tobio, setter for the Schweiden Adlers—”

Before the reporter could finish his sentence, Kageyama came barreling toward them, his intense gaze locking onto the crowd.

He was on a mission.

Cameras flashed aggressively as he made his wild approach. 

Kageyama yanked the microphone from the reporter’s hands, his chest rising and falling as if he’d just run a marathon. His eyes, wild with emotion, locked onto the camera.

“I take back what I said in my last interview,” he declared unprompted, voice firm despite the growing murmurs of confusion around him. “In my last interview I said that I did not love volleyball. Today I realized I was wrong.” His grip tightened on the microphone as the reporter reached for it, but Kageyama wasn’t done. Not yet.

“I love volleyball. I love everything about volleyball.” He yanked his hand back to keep the reporter from snatching the microphone from his hand.  Kageyama was not finished. He brought it back to his chin. 

“I’ve played volleyball since I was little,” Kageyama started, his voice steady, though his heart was pounding. “But I didn’t fall in love with volleyball until my first year of high school.” He paused, taking a breath, the weight of his words settling in. He looked back up at the camera. His eyes glistened with determination. “Since I graduated high school, volleyball became just a way of life again. It became empty and meaningless because volleyball left me for two years to play on the beach.” The crowd was now mumbling in confusion. 

‘How does volleyball leave you?’ 

‘What does the beach have to do with this?’

‘ I don’t think this is about volleyball…”

Kageyama, still gripping the microphone, took another shaky breath, his emotions spilling over. His eyes, wide and intense, remained fixed on the camera as if he were speaking directly to someone far away.

“But now, when I see volleyball right in front of me again, I can't help but get excited. It's the kind of thrill that keeps you awake all night. The way it moves, the way it makes me sweat… I get so hot thinking about how volleyball has been challenging me in ways I never thought possible.” He declared, his voice trembling with passion. “I love how it pushes me to be better in every way—a better athlete, a devoted husb-... a devoted m-man.”

The murmurs grew louder, confusion mixing with intrigue as reporters exchanged bewildered glances.

His eyes flickered with a deep passion as he spoke. He had to get all of his emotions out there into the world. Even if he wasn’t forming proper sentences. "The heat, the pressure, the way it—" Kageyama caught himself for a split second but kept going, "the way it makes me want to go harder and faster"

He leaned closer to the mic, lowering his voice, "And it’s just so small , but it packs so much power. And I don’t care if it takes all night, I'll keep going as hard as I can to be the one who ends up on top."

The room was dead silent, a mix of confusion and disbelief. A few nervous coughs sounded from the back.

“And I especially love how... orange and tangerine-like—”

“ Thank you, everyone! ” his coach suddenly cut in, quickly stepping forward and grabbing Kageyama by the arm. “As you can see, Kageyama loves volleyball and is truly dedicated to the sport.” He gave a strained smile to the cameras, gently pulling the flustered setter away. “We hope he can continue to inspire young athletes across Japan to fall in love with volleyball!”

“No one can love volleyball the way I do so just give up now!’ Kageyama shouted, even as his coach hurriedly ushered him out of the crowd. The chaotic scene behind him only grew wilder, reporters scrambling to ask more questions, their voices overlapping in a frenzy.

“What was so different about this  match with MSBY compared to your others?”

“Did you not feel this excitement during the Olympics?”

“Coach - is Kageyama losing his mind because of his loss to MSBY?”

“Why the change in heart, Kageyama?” 

“Is volleyball a metaphor for something else?” 

Kageyama was escorted by his coach into the back hallways. Finally away from the eager reporters. 

“That’s it,” the coach began, ensuring they were out of earshot of any reporters. “Starting next week, you’re signed up for mandatory PR training. No more post-game interviews until you can hold a normal conversation with these reporters.”

Kageyama's heart swelled with happiness. The coach, taken aback by the sudden smile spreading across his setter's face, raised an eyebrow.

PR training meant more games, and that was all Kageyama needed. He felt a wave of relief wash over him; the interview was good enough.

“Thank you, coach,” Kageyama replied, bowing deeply. “I’ll start as soon as possible. But first, I have to do something long overdue.”

Before his coach could respond, Kageyama took off, bolting through the stadium. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was headed, but he knew exactly who he needed to find. This time, he wouldn’t let it slip away again.

Kageyama burst into the MSBY Black Jackals’ locker room, still winded from the game, his heart racing for reasons beyond just the match. His eyes darted around the room, searching for one person.

“Where’s Shoyo?” he asked, trying to sound casual, but the urgency in his voice gave him away.

Before he could get an answer, Atsumu and Bokuto were already on him, having seen the post-game interview. Atsumu’s smirk was wide, almost predatory.

"Kageyama!" Bokuto howled, barely able to contain himself. "Man, I didn’t know you were that into volleyball! That was borderline inappropriate, dude!" He wiped a tear from his eye. "I mean, c’mon, what was that?"

Atsumu, already in on the joke, chimed in with his signature smirk. "Seriously, Tobio-chan, you sounded like you were confessing your undying love to the sport! If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re in a relationship with the ball!" Atsumu leaned closer, lowering his voice mockingly, "Should we be worried, man? Is the volleyball... ya know... yer type?"

"Shut up already!" His face was red as he glared at the two of them. “Where is Hinata?” he repeated louder, more desperate. 

Atsumu’s smirk only grew wider, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, looking for Shoyo-kun, huh? He had to leave early. Got an appointment at the Brazilian Embassy tomorrow.”

Kageyama blinked, confused. “The Brazilian Embassy? Why would he need to go there?”

Bokuto, always eager to jump in, said with an exaggerated nod, “Yup! Sounds like he’s following in Oikawa’s footsteps. Y’know, he revoked his Japanese citizenship to go play for Argentina.”

Kageyama’s eyes widened in shock. “Argentina? Why would he go to Argentina? Why would he follow Oikawa?!”

Sakusa, with a sigh, corrected them both. “It’s Brazil, not Argentina. Hinata’s been training there. He’s not pulling an Oikawa.”

Kageyama, still processing, felt an irrational pang of jealousy. Why would Hinata even consider leaving Japan? He should stay here—follow his path, not Oikawa’s. The thought of Hinata disappearing halfway across the world again made his stomach churn. But that wasn’t the point. He needed to see Hinata. He needed to talk to Hinata. He had finally understood his feelings and now there may be a chance he would never see him again. And he just got back too!

Atsumu noticed the turmoil on Kageyama’s face and couldn’t resist pushing further. “Y’know, Tobio-chan, if you’re that worried, I can give you Shoyo’s address. Maybe you should pay him a visit, eh?”

Kageyama stiffened, his mind spinning as Atsumu dangled the offer like bait. 

Knock Knock Knock Knock

“Coming!”

Knock Knock Knock Knock

“I said I’m coming! Just a minute”

Knock Knock Knock

“Geez” 

The door swung open and Hinata yelped as a very breathless, sweaty, and scary Kageyama Tobio stood at the door frame. 

“Kageyama…” 

Time seemed to stand still. Hinata was at a loss for words. He felt a rush of excitement at seeing his friend, but confusion quickly set in. How did Kageyama find his apartment? Why did he look so out of breath? And what was with that ugly scowl? He must be really mad about losing today’s game.

“Kageyama, are you okay—” Hinata started, but the words barely left his lips before Kageyama surged forward, his intense gaze locking onto Hinata’s.

“Volleyball is just a way of life-”

“Huh… I mean I guess?” Hinata could only back away as Kageyama closed the space between them. He could not come up with a snarky remark or comeback. 

He only blinked up at his former teammate. Confusion stirred in his mind. Hinata forced a smile. A futile attempt to break the tension. 

Maybe Kagaeyama had gone crazy from losing their match. Was he here to beat him up? 

That must be it-

“That is what I thought for many years. Or at least…the past two years.” Kageyama stepped forward into his apartment and Hinata instinctively stepped back feeling the weight of his friend's presence. 

Hinata blinked, taken aback. “Huh?”

Kageyama took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words settle between them. “ But then. Today. When we played today… I remembered what it was like back in high school. The thrill, the excitement. It’s not just about the game anymore. Its love”

Hinata could only gulp, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to process Kageyama’s intense gaze. The air felt thick with unspoken emotions.

“I am in love,” Kageyama confessed, his voice steady yet riddled with vulnerability.

“Kageyama—” Hinata started, but the words barely left his lips.

“Since the very first quick attack,” Kageyama continued, reaching out to grasp Hinata’s hands firmly. His eyes locked onto Hinata’s, piercing through the confusion. The silence that enveloped them felt heavy, almost suffocating, and Kageyama could feel his heart pounding against his ribs. He had never been one for grand speeches, yet here he was, spilling everything he had kept buried for so long not once but twice. “It took until today for me to fully understand.”

Hinata stared, trying to absorb Kageyama's words, but they tangled in his mind like a knot he couldn’t unravel.

“Kageyama, are you having a stroke?” Hinata blurted out, half-jokingly, bewildered by the sudden emotional declaration.

“Dammit, dumbass—Hinata!” Kageyama shouted, his frustration spilling over as Hinata flinched at the volume  “I love you. I’ve loved you since first year. Since you left, it was never the same. You’re the reason I love volleyball. How could I be any more clear!?”

Hinata’s heart raced, caught between shock and elation. The weight of Kageyama’s words settled over him, igniting a flame of hope and disbelief within him. 

He opened his mouth to respond but didn’t seem to know what to say. For once, the usually energetic Hinata was at a loss for words.

Hinata looked down. The only response Kageyama received was a soft squeeze of his hand. Feeling restless, Kageyama tried to speak up again. 

Although social skills were not his strong suit, Kageyama was suddenly aware of the fact that you probably should not yell and shout during a love confession. 

Suddenly feeling vulnerable, he lowered his voice. 

“Hinata I -” 

He stopped as Hinata looked up. A smirk on his face and a glint in his eyes. Kageyama was taken aback. He expected a reaction but not this. 

Am I about to be rejected?

And then, Hinata laughed.

It wasn’t a harsh or mocking laugh, but something warm and light, like all the tension that had built up between them, had finally burst. Hinata lifted his head, his bright eyes meeting Kageyama’s, a grin spreading across his face.

“Took you long enough,” Hinata said softly, stepping closer.

Kageyama blinked, the words not quite sinking in fast enough. “What?”

Before he could process anything else, Hinata closed the gap between them, his hand reaching out to cup the side of Kageyama’s face. The warmth of Hinata’s touch sent a jolt of electricity through him. Kageyama’s breath caught in his throat, his mind reeling.

And then, without another word, Hinata leaned in and kissed him.

Kageyama froze for a split second, but the feeling of Hinata’s lips against his—soft, sure, and real—shattered any hesitation. His hands instinctively found their way to Hinata’s waist, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them in that moment, all the unspoken feelings they’d held onto finally laid bare.

When they pulled apart, both of them were breathless, faces flushed. Hinata’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, his smile never faltering.

“You idiot,” Hinata teased, resting his forehead against Kageyama’s. “You should’ve said something sooner.”

Kageyama, still trying to catch his breath, managed a small smirk. “Dumbass-Hinata” was all he could respond with.

Hinata laughed again, the sound pure and full of joy, and Kageyama couldn’t help but laugh with him, the weight he’d been carrying for so long finally gone.

This was long overdue indeed.

“Looks like Tobio-chan’s interview has gone viral.” Atsumu chuckled as he scrolled through his phone. 

“Hey, Atsumu, should I text  Kageyama’s viral interview to Keji and ask him to make some video edits of it? He’s good at those.”

“Bokuto, that's so ridiculous.” Atsumu scoffed as he took a swig of his water bottle.  “Kenma would be the best person for that.”

But Bokuto was already typing furiously on his phone, narrating his message as he went. “Hey, Akaashi! Got a good one for you—Kageyama’s love confession, but make it spicy . Can you do some slow-motion edits or something? Maybe add romantic music in the background—”

“Tell him to add some volleyball sounds,”

“You’re a genius, Atsumu-” 

“Have him send it to me when it's posted” Atsumu’s hands were on his spiker’s shoulders as he shook him gently back and forth. 

“Hey quit it- I’m trying to text instructions-”

Atsumu cut him off with a sly smirk. “You know, maybe I need to start being sexually attracted to volleyball if that’s the secret to being as good as him.”

Bokuto looked up from his phone wearing a devilish grin. “Do you think he cuts a hole in the volleyball and-”

That’s when Sakusa, who had been quietly listening from the other side of the room, finally spoke up, his tone deadpan. "It’s a metaphor, idiots."

Bokuto blinked, confused, while Atsumu crossed his arms, tilting his head.

"A metaphor?" Bokuto repeated, scratching his head. "What’s a metaphor?"

Sakusa sighed as if it pained him to explain. "He’s not talking about volleyball. Well, he is, but he’s also talking about Hinata. His love for volleyball is tied to Hinata." He paused. "He just doesn’t realize it yet. Or maybe he does now that he’s over at his apartment."

Atsumu's eyes widened with realization, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Ohhhh, now it makes sense! So, what you're sayin' is, Kageyama's love for volleyball is really just his way of sayin' he's obsessed with our Shoyo ?" Atsumu slapped Sakusa on the back earning a viscous glare from his teammate. "Man, Tobio-chan, he really took that rivalry to a whole new level! Maybe Shoyo is the secret. I should get with him too!”

“Wait, wait! No seriously! What’s a metaphor again?” Bokuto asked, his face twisting in concentration as if he were trying to solve the most complicated math problem he’d ever encountered.

Atsumu grinned, leaning back against the lockers with an amused glint in his eye. He patted Bokuto on the back, shaking his head fondly. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Bo. Just know that our boy Kageyama's in deep with both volleyball and our precious Shoyo-kun.”

Bokuto’s eyes widened as he processed this. “Ohhhh…” He paused again, the gears in his head visibly turning as he thought hard about the recent events. Suddenly, a mischievous grin spread across his face. He nudged Atsumu with his elbow, excitement bubbling up inside him. “Do you think they’re screwing right now?”

“Most certainly…” Atsumu paused for dramatic effect, a playful smirk creeping across his lips before turning to Bokuto with a gleeful glint in his eye. “Oh! Tell Akaashi to see if he can add some Hinata footage to the edit.”

“Why do I bother with you two?…” Sakusa groaned, his voice dripping with exasperation as he scrubbed a towel over his head. He shot a disapproving glare at Atsumu and Bokuto, who were too wrapped up in their antics to notice.

“Do we still want the volleyball sounds?” Atsumu asked, his voice rising over the din of the locker room.

“Absolutely!” Bokuto replied, practically bouncing on his feet. “It wouldn’t be the same without it!”

The locker room erupted into echoes of laughter, the sound mingling with the clattering of lockers and the rustle of towels. 

Night had fallen.

Kageyama woke up in an unfamiliar bed with a mess of orange hair pressed to his bare chest.

A soft smile broke across his face. He pulled his warm body closer to his. Warm brown eyes fluttered open and pierced back into his. He couldn’t help but lower his head and press a kiss onto his forehead. Why had he been denying himself this happiness for years?

“What time is it?” 

The setter rolled over to glance at the digital clock behind him. 

“1.30 am.” 

“We should get some rest,” Hinata said, a yawn spreading across his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed, and the warmth of Kageyama’s body pulled him into a deep comfort. “I have an early appointment with the Embassy tomorrow…”

Whatever warmth Kageyama had just experienced quickly turned to ice.

“Oi— that reminds me,” he said, placing his hands on Hinata’s bare shoulders, and giving him a shake. “Wake up!”

“Wha—”

“Wake up. You’re not allowed to go.”

“Kageyama?”

“Don’t follow in Oikawa’s footsteps.”

“Kageyama, did you hit your head during the game?” Hinata mumbled, still groggy.

“Don’t revoke your Japanese citizenship!” Kageyama insisted, his eyes wide with determination.

This caught Hinata’s attention, and he bolted upright, confusion etching his features. “Huh? Kageyama, I'm not going to do that.”

“But Atsumu said—”

“Why are you listening to anything he says?” Hinata pushed himself up, meeting Kageyama’s stormy gaze. “He spends 80% of his time looking at himself in the mirror and the other 20% saying stuff to push people’s buttons!”

“But your citizenship—you’re planning on leaving permanently—”

“Why would I revoke my citizenship?” Hinata replied, his voice firm. “I’m going to see if I can go to Brazil as a tourist or if I need to apply for a working visa for when I visit.”

“Visit?” Kageyama asked, his brow furrowing deeper.

“Yeah! I plan on going back to continue my training during the off-season.”

“You’re going to stay Japanese?” Kageyama pressed, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit.

A warm smile graced Hinata’s face, the same smile that had brought Kageyama so much happiness during high school. “That’s the plan,” he chuckled softly. “You can come too, y’know. Playing on the beach is humbling.”

“Good,” Kageyama bit out, the relief washing over him. “You must stay by my side.”

“Of course, baka-yama,” Hinata replied, yawning again, his head bobbing slightly.

“Shut up, dumbass Hinata,” Kageyama said, his voice softening despite his earlier frustration.

As the words hung in the air, Kageyama leaned in closer, and Hinata felt a rush of warmth flooding through him again. Before he could let out another snarky remark, Kageyama’s lips descended upon his. He pulled the wing-spiker into him, reveling in the feeling of his skin against his. 

The next day, Hinata was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone, when he noticed an unusual flood of notifications. His fingers slowed as post after post tagged him, all with the same video clip of Kageyama’s post-game interview. Confused, he tapped one of the notifications and saw that it had gone viral.

The caption read, "Kageyama’s Unuaually Passionate Volleyball Confession!" People were tagging him in waves.

Hinata tilted his head, still trying to figure out why he was being tagged in so many posts. Was it just because of the game? Kageyama must have given a good interview! 

“Hey, Tobio! Come here for a second.”

Kageyama, who had been cleaning up, appeared at the doorway, wiping his hands on a towel. “What is it?”

“I think your interview went viral or something, even Suga sent it to me three times with a winky emoji. It must be really good” Hinata said, grinning as he turned his phone around. “People keep tagging me in it too, for some reason. Let’s watch it together!”

Kageyama froze instantly. His heart skipped a beat as he noticed the interview thumbnail on Hinata’s phone. “What? No, we don’t need to watch it,” he stammered, his voice rising in panic.

But Hinata, completely oblivious to Kageyama’s terror, began connecting his phone to the TV. “Why not? It must be a good one if it’s going viral! Let’s see how passionate you are about volleyball.”

Kageyama’s eyes widened in horror. “Hinata, wait—don’t!”

Too late. The video began to play on the big screen. Kageyama’s face appeared, looking flustered, his voice echoing throughout the room.

“I love volleyball. I love everything about volleyball. I’ve played volleyball since I was little. But I didn’t fall in love with volleyball until my first year of high school.

“Noooooo!” Kageyama shouted, launching himself at Hinata, and tackling him off the couch before he could play any more of the clip.

“What the—Tobio?!” Hinata yelled, half laughing as Kageyama pinned him down, desperately reaching for the remote. “What’s gotten into you?!”

“We’re not watching it!” Kageyama growled, wrestling with him for control of the remote.

Hinata struggled under Kageyama, laughing but confused. “Why are you freaking out? It’s just you talking about volleyball!”

Pinning Hinata’s arms to the ground, Kageyama finally snatched the remote, immediately hitting the power button to turn off the TV. He sat up, panting, his face burning with embarrassment. The room fell into silence, save for their heavy breathing.

Hinata, still lying on the floor, looked up at him, slightly exasperated. “Fine, fine! You win,” he grumbled, pushing himself into a sitting position. “But honestly, Tobio, I thought it was a good interview.” 

Kageyama groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Forget it. Just... forget it.”

“Okay, if you say so,” Hinata said, still puzzled but not pushing any further. He flashed Kageyama a bright smile, completely unaware of the deeper meaning behind it all. “You sounded like you really meant it.”

Kageyama, cheeks still flushed, muttered under his breath, “Yeah... I did.”

End 

Bonus Scene: 

“Hey Kageyama, it looks like Bokuto-senpai sent me an edit of your viral interview. Am I seriously banned from watching that too?”

“Hinata, give me your phone!”

“Worst boyfriend ever…”

“I heard that!” 

Bonus Bonus Scene: 

The room was dead silent, tension thick in the air as the PR team and the coach watched the screen with growing horror. The infamous interview, now spliced into a cringe-worthy edit, had already racked up a staggering 1.1 million views.

Courtesy of a mysterious and unknown user named @BokuAka6969, was playing out in full force.

On the screen, Kageyama’s voice echoed dramatically:

“I love volleyball. I love everything about volleyball.” A photo of Hinata Shoyo appeared on the screen. Followed by an unnecessary amount of volleyball sound effects.

“It’s the kind of thrill that keeps you up all night.”

A crude 'oh-yeah' cut through followed by an upbeat, almost too-cheerful pop tune that started playing in the background. The scene cut to a slow-motion clip of Hinata, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, the sound dubiously edited into a soft moan. Someone in the room let out an awkward cough.

The music continued to build: “I love how it pushes me. Pushes me. P-pushes me.” The uncomfortable voice edit filled the silent room. 

As if on cue, the video flashed a clip of Kageyama spiking a volleyball, followed by a shirtless photo of Hinata, floating across the screen to the beat.

The next line hit, Kageyama’s voice repeating:

“I’ll keep going… as hard as I can.” The room winced when they began to hear the sounds of shoes squeaking across a gym floor began.

"Volleyball left me for two years to play on the beach."  A photo of a shirtless and sweaty Hinata Shoyo made its way onto the screen. His arms flexing as he held a volleyball in his grip. The background, notably, a beach. 

The music swelled, and the video gleefully cut to more clips of Hinata, this time running in slow motion, hair bouncing.

With every "hard" and "push," the music seemed to get louder, matching the rhythm of the cuts. Clips of Kageyama and Hinata practicing quick attacks appeared in rapid succession, but every time Kageyama set the ball, it cut to a shirtless picture of Hinata, floating across the screen in a dramatic, sparkly transition.

Kageyama’s voiceover continued, breathless: “Harder… and faster…” 

The voiceover repeated, almost hypnotically, as the music reached a crescendo. Suddenly, a clip of Kageyama, sweat-drenched and panting after a match, flashed on the screen, before cutting to Hinata again, his hair bouncing in slow-motion as he ran toward the net.

Just when the horror seemed like it couldn’t peak further, the final part of the video dropped. Kageyama’s voice purred over the dramatic silence:

“I'll keep going as hard as I can to be the one who ends up on top.” Followed by a moan that was edited into the video that sent disgusting chills into the room. 

The screen went black, but a deafening thwack of a volleyball echoed—far too loud—like a nail in the coffin. Then, as if to rub salt in the wound, the video ended with @BokuAka6969’s watermark in bright neon colors, followed by a superimposed image of Kageyama and Hinata together, sparkles and hearts surrounding them.

The upbeat music abruptly cut off.

For a long moment, no one in the room dared to breathe. The silence was thick and mortifying.

The PR team sat frozen, wide-eyed, nodding helplessly, unsure whether to laugh or cry at the chaos they just witnessed.

The coach let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. “Well… at least we’ve got more viewers than ever.”