Chapter Text
Are we still friends? Can we be friends?
Are we Still Friends? - Tyler, The Creator
2:43 PM.
The time stamp that hovered over Kageyama like a raging, grey cloud. The exact minute when everything changed.
Sugawara was the first to call, followed by Daichi, then Yamaguchi and some others. He couldn’t place their names, not anymore, not at that moment. What he assumed must have been affirmations of comfort all but stuck with him. One thing stuck out, however - something Sugawara said.
“It’s not your fault.”
On paper, that was true. It was an accident, a moment where God decided to look away. Tragic, the police had described it as. But Kageyama knew better than that; he knew all too well the real reason why the sun would never shine on him again. For a brief moment, he thought that sentiment was ironic, for the sun hasn’t shown himself in Japan in almost 5 years. Kageyama would see people in the summer, basking in the warmth and glow of a false sunlight. He felt envy towards those who still had the sun in their lives, and he longed for the day it would be back in his arms.
That day would never come.
“Today’s the day.”
Three words Kageyama has been dreading to hear. Words he knew he would have to face eventually, but not now, not before he was ready. When would Kageyama have been ready? Most likely never.
Graduation was only a few days ago; a ceremony with an unspoken pressure to finally let go of the past, and a borderline tacky excitement for the future. A day where tears flow into a puddle of promises to stay in touch, to always be friends, to never forget. Kageyama would’ve been lying if he said he hadn’t made those same promises, but he knew the truth - a truth no one ever acknowledges, but yet always seems to come to pass.
Kageyama knew that Hinata would eventually move on from him, and his departure was only the start of the fulfillment of Kageyama's truth.
“I guess so.” Kageyama said.
No one else was here with Hinata, only him. Hinata wanted it that way, to have this last moment with his first partner, his best friend - on and off the court. Kageyama wished the others were here. It would be easier to let go at a distance, but they were so close. Maybe they always would be, although that didn’t make sense to Kageyama; how close can you be to someone on the other side of the world? At least the airport was crowded, giving something else for Kageyama to focus on. He wondered how many others were leaving their old lives behind to start anew. He wondered how many people felt exactly as he did - abandoned, lost in a whirlwind, yet frozen in time all the same. An old man and what appeared to be his granddaughter caught Kageyama’s attention. Both were crying, hugging, but it didn’t seem sad, as if the girl had been waiting for her grandpa to return home. Kageyama did the same when he was young. He often sat out on his front porch, volleyball in one hand, strawberry-watermelon vitamin water in the other. It was his grandfather’s favorite, and Kageyama hoped the sight of something he liked would bring him back home, back to him. But he never came. His grandfather remained stagnant under that gravestone; he was trapped, Kageyama thought to himself, that is why he couldn't come home. One day, he will escape.
However, even if his grandpa did one day return, Kageyama didn’t believe he’d like it. For things had changed - he had changed. For the better, depends on who you ask. Hinata would have agreed with that, but what did he know?
The pair walked in silence. It was awkward, a sense that hadn’t shown itself to the duo in quite some time - since their first year, no doubt. So, this is how it ends. Kageyama looked over to Hinata, who wasn’t looking at him. Not that he expected him to; he looked forward, blazing a path ahead to his new life, a life that didn’t feature Kageyama. Perhaps it still can, but was that what Hinata desired? Clearly not, he said it himself, recalling what Hinata had said to him back during graduation.
“I need to find out who I am outside of this, outside of you - outside of us.”
Us.
Kageyama longed for that word, he craved it ever since he was young - to be part of something. He didn’t know, however, he would become part of someone, and that someone would be impossibly intertwined with him. Kageyama almost laughed; to go from meeting on the other side of the court, to parting ways across the world. It was fitting, in a way. An uncomfortable fit, like the poorly knit sweater your distant aunt gives you for Christmas. But you wear it, nonetheless, to make her happy. If Brazil would make Hinata happy, then Kageyama would play the part, no matter if he auditioned for it or not.
“Do you remember when we won against Inarizaki?” Hinata asked.
Did Kageyama remember? “How could I forget?” He replied, as if it was obvious. That moment marked the full evolution of Tobio Kageyama. He had been many things - lonely, a dictator, the King of the Court, Oikawa’s disciple, but it was during that play; Hinata and him joining together like that, dealing the finishing blow, was when he truly became what he always wanted to be. It didn’t contain a title, for he had been trying to escape those for years - it was more of a feeling. Satisfaction, contentment? He really didn’t know, and neither did his teammates, but they he knew he had changed, and they welcomed it.
“I wanna do that again some day.” Hinata proclaimed, giving Kageyama a smile he was all too familiar with.
Why couldn’t Kageyama do the same for Hinata? Things were changing, he himself was about to change, but Kageyama couldn’t even acknowledge it, let alone accept it.
2:43 PM.
It’s that time again. Kageyama wonders what he could’ve been doing instead. He checked his calendar. 3:00 PM, July 2nd, 2024 - Pick up Hinata from the airport.
Seventeen minutes. That’s all it took. Had he been quicker, would he have been able to stop it, to save anyone - to save him?
Had he been braver, taken his dad’s car as it was offered to him instead of boarding the train. Had he been smarter, told Hinata to schedule his flight for the next day. Had he not called, if he just let go like everyone else had been able to do, like he promised himself he could do.
Would things have been different? Would he have been different? Kageyama thought about how different Hinata would’ve looked in person, after all this time; he talks differently over the phone, using the lingo of his new country. Kageyama refused to call where Hinata lived his home. Home was - should have been - right here, with him.
Would you call a resting place a home? Kageyama didn’t think so; having your spirit confined to one place, unable to move, for all of eternity, didn’t sound very hospitable. He knows Hinata hates it, a life bound to staying motionless. I put him there, Kageyama thought. This time, there wasn't anyone to tell him any different, so he sat with those thoughts, let himself absorb them, and became them. He felt that feeling again; when he would go too far and feel his grandfather’s disappointment seep through the borders of purgatory and into his reality. Although now, it wasn’t grandfather’s presence that was near.
It was Hinatas.