sunny ☁️

and sometimes they come back when you least expect it, years later, even, and there's this sudden rush of relief like there you are, there you are, even though you barely knew each other.

there's a strange kind of love to it. i don't know you and i want to hold your hand across miles and time zones and oceans. i can still see the imprint of you in this community you left. you don't anyone will notice or care when you're gone, but we notice and we care and we wish you well.

looks like the kids are fighting again

what will you become tomorrow?

There is a buzz that comes with it; the second before a game, a set, a match. The second before the ball is thrown—when Shouyou himself is not yet airborne. The second before the hit—when he breathes it through, breathes it out, pumps everything into his serve as if his exhale may infuse the ball with his energy.  The second before the storm.  There is calm.  Inhale. Exhale. Crave. Devour. 

of course, eventually hinata texts him from his new number and they talk normally. but kageyama sees an opportunity, and starts using hinata’s old number almost as a diary. he’ll never read it anyway, so kageyama sends to the old number the things he can’t send to the real hinata.

to the real hinata: “did the sun fry your braincells yet?”

to the old number: “i hope you’re taking care of yourself”

to the real hinata: “while you’re eating sand, i just got my national team jersey”

to the old number: “it didn’t feel the same without you”

to the real hinata: “when will you play real volleyball again?”

to the old number: “come back. i miss you.”

to the real hinata: “find any new setters to terrorize yet?”

to the old number: “i’m in love with you.”

anger

bargaining

depression

acceptance

hinata: ???

kageyama: i mean, you have a good face.

hinata: thank… you?

kageyama: this is my attempt at flirting.

kageyama: i have no idea what im doing

wishing on every one that you'll be mine.