Chapter Text
What do you want out of life?
The question is simple, something that, perhaps, should not be threatening in the slightest, but it still scares Shouyou when his eyes scan over the essay question. How the hell is he supposed to answer this? He’s only sixteen— well, he’s about to be sixteen— he has no clue what he wants out of life. Besides volleyball, maybe.
Well, no. Not maybe. He does want volleyball in his life, and he plans on working his ass off to make it happen.
He decides to visit Takeda-sensei for help before practice. His teacher is clearly surprised to see him here but smiles and beckons him in.
“Hi, Hinata-kun. Everything okay?”
“I have to write this stupid essay and I don’t know where to start. They want us to say what we want out of life. How am I supposed to know that? I’m just a kid. I don’t know anything.”
“You don’t need to have your entire life figured out. The prompt just wants to know what you want to make of yourself. You know, do you want to go to school? Work as a carpenter?”
“Play volleyball,” Shouyou continues with a nod. “I don’t think school is for me.”
“And that’s okay. Higher education isn’t for everyone. Maybe though... you should have a backup plan in case?”
“I won’t need a backup plan. Trust me.” Shouyou takes a deep breath. “But I guess I wouldn’t mind being a teacher, or a coach like you.”
Takeda blushes. “Well, yes, you could do that too. But only if you want that out of life. Figure out what your purpose is, and what you want to become. Nothing needs to be set in stone, but it’s good to think about these things.”
“Sure, sir. Thank you.”
Shouyou leaves the office feeling even more discouraged than before. All he wants out of life is volleyball. If that doesn’t happen, what comes next?
He wishes he didn’t have to wait to find out. School is so boring; he wants to fast forward to life as an adult. No more waiting, no more dreading, and no more stupid homework. He’d be buff, play volleyball every day, and wouldn’t have to worry about anything this mundane ever again.
The next day is Shouyou’s birthday. The Karasuno volleyball team sings him happy birthday and gives him a slice of cake. Kageyama even mutters something semi-nice. Despite boring homework and lectures from his teachers, the day is nice. He gets to stay late at practice and even goes to get meat buns downtown with Yachi, Kageyama, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi. Kageyama offers to walk home with him.
“You’re dumb, and I don’t want you getting hurt before training camp,” he mutters as an excuse, but Shouyou doesn’t buy it. He grins.
“If I didn’t know better, it would sound like you enjoy hanging out with me, Yama-Yama.”
“Whatever, dumbass. You’re just an idiot.”
“It’s my birthday. Could you be a little nicer to me?”
Kageyama sighs and shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. “How is that essay going?”
“It’s not. This is a waste of time, don’t you think? We don’t need to figure out what we want yet. That’s like, a third-year problem.”
Kageyama shrugs. “I dunno. I think it’s an interesting question. Could be nice to look back and see what we wanted ‘then’ versus ‘a now’ kind of thing.”
Shouyou rolls his eyes. “You’re all sentimental or whatever, Kageyama. I am not like that in the slightest. I just wish we could skip to the good part.”
Kageyama is obviously hurt by Shouyou’s comment, but the redhead is too clueless to notice. His voice shakes as he repeats his friend’s words.“The good part?”
“Yeah! The part where we’re professional volleyball players and don’t have to worry about stupid homework and school. All we do is play volleyball, hang out with friends, travel the world, all that stuff.”
He huffs. “Why are you in such a hurry to grow up? Adults have to pay bills and taxes. Do you have any clue how to do that?”
“Well, no, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out, right?”
“Not if you magically turn thirty tomorrow.”
“Then I would have like, self-consciously learned all that stuff or something. That’s how it works.”
“Sure.”
“None of this stuff is real, dummy. So I can make it up as I go.”
“I just think you need to slow down and focus on what’s going on now. We have games coming up. If you want to make it to the championships, you need to work your ass off and not daydream about the future.”
“I know that.”
They’ve reached the fork in the road. Kageyama clears his throat and moves his shoulders toward his neighborhood streets. “Well. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. That is if you’re still not lost in the clouds.”
“Whatever, Stinky-Yama. See you tomorrow.” Shouyou straddles his bike and prepares to kick off when Kageyama says something else.
“And Happy Birthday.”
One nod later, they take off their separate ways.
His mother is stressed when Shouyou arrives home. She barely says three words to him, and not one is a “happy” or a “birthday.” Natsu is already asleep, so Shouyou goes to his room alone and sits down to work on his essay. His throat burns.
Being a kid means getting your feelings hurt about silly things like this. If he was an adult, he’d probably be able to tough this out, or something.
Shouyou gives up on homework half an hour later and decides to call it a night. He doesn’t even brush his teeth — only climbs into bed and closes his eyes.
Maybe he can dream about his future instead.
Loud traffic and car horns echoing over each other wake him up in the morning.
Confused, Shouyou rolls over, groaning, and shoves his head underneath his pillow. There are never this many cars on his street; he lives too far away for much traffic. Maybe it’s his alarm or some kind of prank.
“Mom!” He gives in and sits up, curls spiraling down into his eyes. The room he is in is not his own, and sunlight streams in through floor-to-ceiling windows.
Floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of Tokyo City.
Wait.
Tokyo?
He feels his stomach flip. This isn't right.
Is he dreaming? Shouyou must be dreaming. He can’t be in Tokyo! He— he’s been to Tokyo like, three times in his life, and he certainly wasn’t there when he went to bed last night. This room he’s in is pretty boring, with beige, neutral tones and clean furniture. There is a chair in the corner with some clothes draped over it and a duffle bag on top of a nearby dresser. Shouyou peels back the duvet, head pounding, as he stands up and wobbles over to a mirror in the corner. He gasps in shock, tumbling backward into the open closet doors.
His reflection is him, but not him he knows. He’s older, with shaggy hair that falls into his eyes, bulky muscles, and tanned skin. He’s much tanner than he remembers being.
“Oh god,” he whispers, shocked by even the sound of his voice. It’s deeper and more mature.
“Shouyou, I have to start my stream! If you want coffee, we have to go now!”
That sounds like... but no... it can’t be!
Shouyou steps out of the room and is greeted with a beautiful penthouse view of Tokyo. A man with long dark hair wearing an oversized jacket is fixing himself something in the microwave. When he turns around, Shouyou is astonished to discover it’s Kenma of all people.
“Kenma-san? Is that you?”
Kenma rolls his eyes. “How many times have I told you to stop calling me that? I think we’ve been friends long enough for you to drop the honorific.”
A gulp. “Uh... sorry.” Okay. Shouyou is officially freaking out. “You mentioned... coffee?”
“Yeah. I have to meet with Kuro in about an hour for a sponsored stream, so we gotta go now. You can come back and get your stuff if you want; you have the key.” He waves his hand nonchalantly as if he didn’t just spew a bunch of words totally clueless to Shouyou.
“Uh, right. Yes. Sure.”
“Well?” Kenma gestures to the hallway. “Go get dressed!”
“Right, right! I’m going!” Shouyou darts back to the room he woke up in and grabs the duffle bag. He rifles through it, still feeling like his body is too big and his limbs are gangly and disoriented. Plus— jeez, he needs a freaking haircut. Shouyou even pinches himself before changing, hoping that this really is a dream.
“Hey, Kenma-san, er, I mean Kenma?” He clears his throat. “Do you know... how I could get in contact with Kageyama?”
Kenma scrunches his nose. “Why?”
“Cause he’s my best friend, right?” Probably shouldn’t say that in front of Kenma. “Or uh, one of my best friends?”
“I dunno. He’s probably still around the Adlers complex. I can ask Kuro.”
“Adlers?”
“Shouyou, are you okay? You’ve been acting really weird this morning.”
“No, uh, I’m fine! Everything is fine. I just had the weirdest dream last night, where I went to bed on my sixteenth birthday, and then woke up here in...”
“In 2020?”
“ 2020?” What the heck? “I mean, yeah. Yes. In 2020. It is 2020, and not 2012. Heh...”
“Okay...” Kenma shakes his head. “Come on. I have shit to do.”
“I’m coming!”
Shouyou trails behind Kenma all the way to the elevator and down to street level. Man, Kenma is so rich! Shouyou is having a hard time digesting this all. So... he went to sleep as a sixteen-year-old, wishing he could skip to the good part, and he woke up eight years later, which means he is...
Twenty-four.
Holy fucking shit. He’s twenty-four!
He’s an adult!
Shouyou accidentally squeals, causing Kenma to gently smack his shoulder. The coffee shop is just around the corner from the apartment, so it doesn’t take long before they arrive at the quaint store. Kenma tells Shouyou to specifically “not embarrass him.”
“When have I ever done that?” He asks innocently. Kenma scowls.
“I don’t need to answer that. Come on; I’m not being late today.”
“But Kuroo-san can get me Kageyama’s address, right?”
“Yes, he’s figuring it out! Dang, why are you so obsessed with Kageyama all of a sudden? I thought you hated him.”
What? “Hate him? Why would I hate him?”
“You know better than me. What do you want? Mocha?”
“I don’t like coffee.”
“Dude, you’re being so weird today.” With a shake of his head, Kenma orders something for Shouyou anyway before dragging him off to the pick-up counter to wait.
“I’m not trying to be weird! There’s just... a lot going on!”
“You’re hungover. Drink the coffee; caffeine will help.” Kenma’s phone buzzes, eliciting another heavy sigh. “Shit, Kuroo is already there. Alright, I gotta bounce.” He grabs his coffee right as the worker hands it over to him, telling him to have a good day. Kenma must come here often. “Good luck today; I’ll text you Kageyama’s address as soon as I get it.”
“Wait, I don’t have my phone, how am I supposed to—”
“Check your pocket, Shouyou! Bye!”
And just like that, he’s gone. The girl behind the counter sets another paper cup down brewing with steam. She smiles sympathetically. “Long day for you too, Hinata-san?”
His eyes widen. “You know me too?”
“Well, yeah! You’re always hanging out with Kozume-san, and I just saw your game another night. You guys are awesome!”
“Playing... a game?”
She laughs. “Are you okay, sir? If you need me to get you some water, or—”
“No, no... that’s okay. I’m fine.” No need to make another person worry about his sanity. He checks his pocket as instructed, finding a cell phone that looks ages more advanced than his tiny flip phone from 2012. He knew people who had smartphones back then, but they were nothing like this.
A message from Kenma comes through with an address. Bingo.
“Where’s the closest train station?”
“Just up the street. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m great! Thank you!” Shouyou waves over his shoulder as he makes his way toward the exit. Kageyama will believe him. He knows it.
“Sir, sir! Hinata-san, your coffee!”
“Keep it!” He shouts, the bell above the door ringing behind him.
It turns out that Kageyama is also living in luxury because his apartment is in a high-rise building with lots of windows. Shouyou avoids the looks of people concerned about why he's still in his pajamas as he clicks the elevator button for the twenty-fourth floor. He counts the apartments as he makes his way down the hallway until he finds the right door.
One deep breath later, Shouyou knocks and takes a step back.
It’s a good thing, too, because Kageyama takes his breath away.
He’s tall, first of all. Taller than he was in high school, anyway. His hair is longer, parted in the middle instead of swept to the side, and he’s muscular— that Shouyou can clearly tell through his t-shirt and sweatpants. That grumpy look on his face never went away, though. It’s exactly the same as in high school.
“Kageyama, oh my gosh! You’re so... handsome!”
The frown deepens. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Hinata—”
“Yeah. I remember you. What are you doing here?”
“I uhm, this is going to be hard to explain, but yesterday was my sixteenth birthday, and I kept wishing I could skip high school and get to the good part, but I didn’t expect that to actually happen, so now I’m here and I have no clue what’s going on and I’m freaking out!” His breaths are starting to quicken and he feels like he might pass out. “You’re the only one I could trust with all of this.”
“I’m the only one you can trust? Me?”
“Yes! Can I please come inside?”
A moment passes before Kageyama sighs and opens the door for Shouyou to come inside. He hesitantly enters, astonished by the height of the ceilings and how nice the apartment is. What does he do for a living?
Wait. Kageyama's parents were rich, right? Did they pay for all of this?
“So why are you living in Tokyo?”
Kageyama tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Did you hit your head or something?”
“What? No, of course not! Why are you so surprised to see me?”
“Because we haven’t spoken since high school, Hinata.”
Shouyou feels his heart stop for a moment. He shakes his head. “What? No! That can’t be true— you’re my best friend!”
“Yeah, like ten years ago. You went off on some trip to Brazil after graduation and never spoke to me again.”
“What? Why would I do that?”
He shrugs lamely. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Oh god... I’m gonna be sick.” Shouyou reaches out for the sofa as Kageyama runs into the kitchen. He returns with a bowl and a glass of water, handing the items over to the boy who is turning green. Shouyou expresses his gratitude.
“Ugh,” he groans. Kageyama sighs.
“What are you doing here, Hinata?”
“I told you, something strange is happening to me!” Shouyou forces himself to sit up and slurp at the water in his hands. “Last night, when I went to bed, I was sixteen years old. When I woke up this morning, I was in a completely different city, in an apartment that wasn’t my own!”
“Congratulations.”
“Not like that! Ew!” Shouyou pauses to catch his breath. “I remember everything from that day, okay? Daichi yelled at us during morning practice for being too rowdy, then I got surprised with a slice of cake from Takeda-sensei and Coach. You stayed late to toss to me after school got out, and we went and got meat buns, and then you walked me home. We had that conversation about wanting to fast-forward time, remember? And you were all sentimental and stuff, not wanting to skip ahead, but I made that wish before I went to bed and when I woke up I was here. I’m here in 2020 and the last thing I remember is walking home with you!”
Kageyama stares at him. Blinks. Stares some more.
“You don’t remember the last eight years of your life?”
“No!”
“Maybe you should go to the doctor or something then because I’m not sure I’ll be able to help you get your memories back.”
“I’m not getting them back, Dummy-yama! I’m trying to get memories for the first time!” Shouyou groans and pushes his fingers into his eyes. “You have to have something that can help me, right?”
After a moment of silence, Kageyama disappears down the hallway and returns with a stack of books. Three of them are yearbooks from their time at Karasuno; the others are his journals. He plops them down on the coffee table before taking a seat and opening the yearbook from 2012. “We made it to the championships our first year but lost against Nekoma. We came in third.”
“Third! That’s amazing!”
“We got even closer our second and third year, but never made it to first. Ennoshita-san was captain our second year, and Yamaguchi was captain during our third.” Kageyama grabs one of his journals and flips through the pages until he finds the one he wants, displaying it toward Shouyou. There is a Polaroid photo of the first-years turned third-years all posing, with a number two on Kageyama’s jersey and a five on Shouyou’s.
“You... were vice-captain?”
“Yep.” The journal makes a poof sound when he closes it. “Then after graduation, you went to Brazil to learn how to play beach volleyball and I moved out here to play with the Adlers.”
“Wait. You play professional volleyball? Kageyama, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”
Kageyama blinks at him. “So do you, dumbass.”
“No way. No way! I do?!” Shouyou jumps up off the sofa and rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Am I still a middle blocker? Oh, am I still the decoy?”
“You really don’t remember anything, do you?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”
He sighs. “Let me walk you back to where you’re staying. Still friends with Kozume-san? Is that who I should take you to?”
“No, I can’t leave yet—”
“I don’t WANT you here!” He shouts so loudly that the glass chandelier above his dining table rattles. Kageyama sighs and murmurs an apology. Shouyou’s eyes water.
“Sorry. I thought...”
“We aren’t friends anymore, Hinata. And while I understand and sympathize that you don’t remember, you also need to understand that I do. So let me walk you home and we can both move on, okay?”
Shouyou doesn’t want to make things worse, so he nods his head and agrees.
They talk about a lot of things on the walk back home. Kageyama talks about his time in Rio for the 2016 Olympics, and how he’s looking forward to the 2020 games at the end of next month. Shouyou expresses his own excitement for playing, and he catches Kageyama chuckling at his antics.
He’s happy, at least, that Kageyama has his life together. He’s been playing volleyball professionally since he was eighteen and has come a long way since high school. Kageyama is nicer, more mature, and it makes Shouyou’s heart swoon in a way he doesn’t quite understand.
“Well.” They stop in front of Kenma’s building. Kageyama folds his hands over his chest. “Can you make it up to Kozume-san’s place okay?”
“Yeah. I think I can manage. Thanks for walking me home.”
“Sure. I hope things get a little easier. I still think you should see a doctor, especially if we’re about to start training for the Olympics.”
“I’ll consider it if you promise you’ll toss to me at practice.”
Kageyama chuckles again. “Alright. I promise. See you, Hinata.”
After about thirty minutes of aimlessly wandering around the halls looking for Kenma’s apartment, Shouyou finally gets someone to help him and he collapses on the sofa with exhaustion. It turns out that being thrown into a world unknown will do that to a person.
He passes the time by looking through his social media. There is a blue check mark by his name on Instagram and Twitter, which means he’s official! That’s crazy to him.
Even more crazy is that he’s looking at all these photos of someone who looks like him— someone who he is, but he doesn't remember any of these memories. Photos of him playing volleyball on the beaches of Rio de Janeiro, hanging out with friends and partners he doesn’t recognize. There is also a selfie of him and Oikawa, which also feels weird. Shouyou reads the comments on the post before moving on.
There is one of him and Kageyama dressed in their graduation gowns. It makes Shouyou’s heart ache, so he exits the app and looks at his photo album.
Natsu is in high school now, playing volleyball herself. Tsukishima lives in Sendai and plays for the Frogs; Yamaguchi is doing marketing in Tokyo. The two of them are engaged.
Yachi is a graphic designer. Sugawara is a teacher, and Daichi is a police officer. Tanaka and Kiyoko-san got married.
It all feels… uncanny.
Yet, he finds himself going back to Kageyama. The former Karasuno setter doesn’t post often, but when he does, he looks beautiful. It feels like something he shouldn’t be doing, like sneaking looks at dirty magazines with his mother in the next room. In fact, when Kenma walks in, Shouyou drops his phone directly onto his face and scrambles to stand up.
“Hi!”
“Shouyou, why are you still here? Your train left hours ago!”
“My train?”
“Back to Osaka! Jeez.” Kenma types something into his phone as he sighs. “I bought you a new ticket and I’m going to walk you to the station. I’ll let Bokuto know to come grab you. I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
“Yeah. Right. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’ll just make sure you don’t drink like that next time.” Kenma smiles. “Need help packing?”
“That would be nice, thank you.”
“You’ll be okay, Shou. I’ll see you in a few weeks anyway since you’ll be back for training. Still planning on staying with me?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah of course!”
“Cool. Having you on stream will be good for the view counts.”
“Wait a minute. You said Bokuto was picking me up? As in, one of the top three aces in Japan Bokuto?”
Kenma raises an eyebrow. “Bokuto, your teammate? Shou, I’m really worried about you.”
Shit. Bokuto Koutarou is his teammate? When did that happen? Shouyou doesn’t even recall meeting the guy.
“Sorry. I promise everything is okay! Let me grab my stuff and we can go to the station, okay?”
Kenma nods, but the close eye he keeps on his friend tells Shouyou everything he needs to know. Time to be more “self-aware” about the fact that he just randomly appeared in the body of his twenty-four-year-old self.
The train ride back to Osaka is three hours long. Shouyou spends more time looking at photos and reading about the last eight years of his life. He sees pictures of himself with Tsukishima, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama, along with another guy Shouyou doesn’t recognize. Akaashi is his name, according to the Instagram tag. He has pictures with his teammates too, mainly two named Atsumu and Sakusa, who he also doesn’t recognize, but realizes he met them his first year too. He watches videos of his matches and is blown away by how good his receives are. He’s looking at an entirely different person.
He pretends he knows Bokuto as well as he’s supposed to when he gets off the train. Bokuto mentions something about Sakusa and Atsumu and the Olympics, but Shouyou is only half listening. He already wants to be back in Tokyo hanging out with Kageyama.
The worst part about all of this is that Shouyou can’t picture what could have caused him to stop speaking to his best friend, and another part of him is terrified to find out.