YOU, ME, AND VOLLEYBALL
[1]
The morning in Brazil didn’t arrive so much as it burst in—warm, bright, and loud with gulls and distant music. The air smelled like saltwater, sunscreen, and something sweet frying somewhere down the street.
You stood on the balcony of your small rental apartment, holding a cold bottle of water to your cheek. Below, the city woke up in color: bright shirts, scooters, vendors pushing carts, and the ocean beyond everything like a sparkling promise.
Behind you, Hinata Shōyō was already moving like the day was a match he couldn’t wait to play.
“Okay!” Hinata announced from the living room. “We need to be on the sand in fifteen minutes if we want the best court spot!”
You didn’t turn around yet. “Fifteen minutes,” you repeated. “Sho, it’s 7:12 a.m.”
“So?” he said, appearing beside her with a towel tossed over his shoulder, eyes shining. “That’s practically noon in volleyball time.”
“Volleyball time is not a real thing.”
“It is!” Hinata pointed at the ocean. “The sun is up. The sand is waiting. The ball is—”
You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you slept with the volleyball again.”
Hinata stiffened. “I did not sleep with it.”
You crossed your arms, amused. “Sho.”
He sighed dramatically. “Okay, I slept near it. It was on the chair. Next to the bed. Like a guard. Guarding my dreams.”
You laughed. “You’re impossible.”
Hinata grinned. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not,” You admitted, then nudged him with your shoulder. “But you are still not eating only bananas for breakfast.”
Hinata gasped, offended. “Bananas are athletic.”
“Bananas are not a complete meal.”
He leaned closer, whispering like it was confidential strategy. “I had two.”
you blinked. “Hinata Shoyo.”
“Fine!” He threw his hands up. “I’ll eat bread. Maybe. If it’s shaped like a volleyball.”
you shook your head, smiling as you walked back inside. “Get your shoes.”
Hinata followed, bouncing on his toes. “We don’t need shoes.”
“Get your sandals.”
Hinata saluted. “Yes, coach!”
you paused in the kitchen doorway, narrowing your eyes. “Don’t ‘coach’ me.”
Hinata’s grin widened. “Yes, future—”
you pointed at him sharply. “Don’t you finish that sentence.”
Hinata stopped. His ears went pink. “I wasn’t going to say anything!”
you stared.
Hinata stared back.
Then you squinted. “You’re acting weird.”
Hinata coughed. “I’m acting normal.”
“Your ‘normal’ is chaotic,” you said. “This is… suspiciously controlled.”
Hinata laughed too quickly. “Controlled? Me? Never.”
you leaned in, voice soft but dangerous. “Hinata Shōyō. Are you hiding something?”
Hinata’s eyes darted away. “No.”
your smile grew. “Liar.”
Hinata clutched his chest. “How can you accuse me so easily?”
“Because I know your face,” you said, matter-of-fact. “Your face is an open book with large font.”
Hinata groaned. “That’s not fair.”
you grabbed two water bottles and tossed him one. “Life isn’t fair. Now move. Beach.”
Hinata caught it and brightened instantly. “BEACH!”
The walk to the beach was short but lively. Vendors called out in Portuguese, music floated from open windows, and every few steps Hinata looked around like he was trying to absorb Brazil into his bloodstream.
you had learned the routine: Hinata got excited, then more excited, then so excited he talked to pigeons like they were teammates.
He pointed at a little kiosk. “Y/N! That place sells água de coco!”
you smiled. “We can get it after.”
Hinata pouted. “But what if I dramatically collapse from coconut deficiency?”
you deadpanned. “Then I’ll step over you.”
Hinata laughed. “That’s so cold!”
“You’ll survive,” you said, then softened. “Probably.”
They reached the beach court—already alive with players. A group of locals they’d met over the past weeks waved as soon as they spotted them.
“E aí, Hinata!” one of them called. “Vai jogar hoje?” (Are you going to play today?)
Hinata waved so hard he nearly threw the water bottle. “Sim! Sim! Vamos!” (Yes! Yes! Let’s go!)
you chuckled under her breath. “You’re getting confident.”
Hinata puffed his chest. “I have been practicing. I can say… like… five things.”
you tilted her head. “Oh, yeah? Impress me.”
Hinata looked extremely serious. He cleared his throat. “Bom dia!” (Good morning!)
you nodded. “Good morning.”
Hinata continued, triumphant. “Obrigado!” (Thank you!)
“Thank you.”
Hinata lifted a finger. “E… desculpa!” (And… sorry!)
you laughed. “Sorry?”
Hinata nodded solemnly. “Very useful when I crash into people.”
you snorted. “Accurate.”
A local player—tall, sun-browned, with a grin like he’d seen everything—strolled over. “You two play today? Mixed doubles?”
Hinata answered immediately. “Yes! Best of three!”
you stepped closer to the net area, rolling your shoulders. “And no tricks.”
Hinata blinked innocently. “Tricks? Me?”
The man laughed. “He always tries tricks.”
you pointed at Hinata. “See? Even the beach knows.”
Hinata protested, “They’re not tricks. They’re tactics.”
you leaned closer, teasing. “Tactics that involve dropping the ball in front of me because you know I’ll laugh and lose my balance.”
Hinata grinned. “It works.”
you narrowed her eyes. “Not today.”
Hinata’s smile flickered—just for a second—into something softer, more nervous. Then he snapped back into his usual brightness.
“Okay!” Hinata clapped his hands once. “Warm-up!”
you served a gentle ball over. Hinata received it cleanly. Your passes were smooth now, familiar as breathing. A few weeks in Brazil had turned their footwork into something instinctive on sand.
But you noticed it again: Hinata’s focus didn’t stay only on the ball. It kept drifting back to you—like he was checking you were still there, still real, still beside him.
you frowned slightly. “sho.”
He looked up immediately. “Yeah?”
you set the ball high. “You’re distracted.”
Hinata’s hands lifted, ready. “I’m not—”
you set drifted a little. Hinata adjusted, popped it up anyway. “See?” he said quickly. “Not distracted.”
you crossed her arms. “Then what are you thinking about?”
Hinata froze mid-step.
your eyes widened a fraction. “Oh my God.”
Hinata made a sound like a squeaky toy. “What?”
“You are hiding something.”
Hinata panicked. “I’m not! I— I’m just— the wind is— it’s very… windy.”
you looked around. The air was barely moving. “sho.”
Hinata stared at the sand like it contained an emergency escape hatch.
your voice softened, but your curiosity sharpened. “Is it bad?”
Hinata jerked his head up. “No! Not bad. Never bad.”
“Is it… serious?”
Hinata swallowed. “Yes.”
you blinked, then tried to keep your tone light. “sho, you’re scaring me.”
Hinata exhaled, shoulders falling a little. “I don’t want to scare you.”
“Then tell me.”
Hinata opened his mouth—closed it—then blurted, “After the game.”
you narrowed your eyes. “After the game?”
Hinata nodded quickly. “After the game.”
you searched his face. Nervous. Excited. Determined. Really determined.
you huffed. “Fine. But if you try to win with cheap shots, I’m going to bury you in sand.”
Hinata brightened instantly. “Yes! Threats! That’s the spirit!”
“That is not—” you sighed. “Whatever. Let’s play.”
Hinata bounced on his toes. “Best of three!”
you stepped into position. “Bring it.”
The first serve snapped across the net like a challenge.
you received it with a clean bump. Hinata’s eyes sharpened. He moved like the sand was an extension of his legs—quick, explosive, fearless.
you set up a spike, swung, and sent the ball down the line.
Hinata dove and dug it.
“Nice!” you called.
Hinata popped back up, grinning. “Nice!”
They traded points fast. The sun climbed higher. Sweat and sand stuck to skin. Their breathing became sharper, timed between rallies.
At 8–8, you wiped your forehead. “You’re faster today.”
Hinata beamed. “I ran extra this morning!”
you stared. “You ran extra?”
Hinata nodded proudly. “Yes!”
you looked betrayed. “Without me?”
Hinata gasped. “I would never betray you.”
“You literally did.”
Hinata defended himself, frantic. “I didn’t want you to be tired for the game!”
you blinked. “…That’s kind of sweet.”
Hinata froze. “It is?”
you smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”
Hinata’s grin returned. “I won’t. I’ll just treasure it forever.”
your cheeks warmed. “Sho!”
He laughed and served again.
Later, at 19–19, the crowd had grown. Some people clapped. Some called out plays in Portuguese. Someone shouted, “Vai!” when either of them made a good save.
you jumped for a spike. Hinata read your shoulder angle and shifted early.
your eyes widened. “You predicted that?”
Hinata dug the ball perfectly and shouted, “YES!”
you groaned. “Show-off.”
Hinata’s smile softened. “Only for you.”
you faltered for half a beat—and Hinata took the point with a soft drop over the net.
“HEY!” you yelled, sprinting forward too late.
Hinata threw his arms up. “Point!”
you glared. “You used my feelings against me!”
Hinata blinked. “Your feelings?”
you pointed accusingly. “You said something sweet!”
Hinata looked genuinely delighted. “So you admit you have feelings!”
you lunged like you might tackle him across the net.
Hinata yelped and backed up laughing. “Okay! Okay! Sorry!”
“You’re not sorry,” you said, though you smile ruined the threat.
Hinata grinned. “I’m a little sorry.”
you served hard.
Hinata received, set, and—when you expected a spike—he hit a controlled shot to the corner.
you dove and barely saved it.
Hinata’s eyes widened, impressed. “YES! That was amazing!”
you scrambled to your feet. “Stop cheering for me!”
Hinata looked confused. “Why?”
“Because we’re—” you swung and sent the ball back— “—competing!”
Hinata laughed, breathless. “I can do both!”
your heart did something stupid at that.
Hinata leapt, hit, and scored.
Set one: Hinata.
Hinata whooped and spun in place like a kid. “YES!”
you bent with her hands on her knees, panting. “I hate you.”
Hinata trotted closer, still grinning. “No, you don’t.”
you looked up, eyes narrowed. “Don’t be smug.”
Hinata leaned forward. “Can you admit it was fun?”
you huffed. “It was fun.”
Hinata’s grin softened into something warmer. “Good.”
you squinted again. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“That… soft voice.”
Hinata blinked. “I can’t help it.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t.” Hinata smiled—gentle, sincere. “Not with you.”
you stared, sand clinging to your arms, heart pounding too fast.
you muttered, “You’re so annoying.”
Hinata laughed. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t—” you sighed. “Water break.”
They stepped off the court, grabbing towels and water. you drank, eyes still on Hinata like you were trying to solve a mystery.
Hinata avoided your gaze with suspicious effort.
you narrowed your eyes. “Okay. I’m officially concerned.”
Hinata choked on his water. “Why?!”
“Because you’re acting like you’re about to confess to a crime.”
Hinata wiped his mouth quickly. “I didn’t commit any crimes!”
you raised an eyebrow. “Not even volleyball crimes?”
Hinata tried to laugh. It came out shaky. “Just… after the game.”
you leaned in. “Is it about us?”
Hinata froze so hard he almost dropped the bottle.
you eyes widened. “Oh my God. It is.”
Hinata squeaked again. “It— I—”
you held up a hand. “You know what? Fine. I’ll wait. But if you make me wait and it turns out you just—like—bought a new kneepad—”
Hinata blurted, “It’s bigger than a kneepad!”
you blinked.
Hinata realized what he’d said. His whole face went red. “I— I mean—”
you stared at him for a long moment, then slowly smiled. “Hinata Shōyō.”
Hinata looked like he wanted to dig a hole and live in it. “Please don’t.”
you softened, voice gentle. “Okay. I’ll wait.”
Hinata’s shoulders loosened a fraction, relief and fear mixing in his eyes. “Thank you.”
you , still smiling, said quietly, “But I’m winning the next set.”
Hinata snapped back into competition mode. “We’ll see!”
you nodded toward the kiosk. “Coconut water. Now. Or you’ll ‘dramatically collapse.’”
Hinata brightened instantly. “YES!”
They bought two coconut waters—cold, sweet, and perfect. Hinata drank like it was a miracle.
you watched him with helpless affection.
Hinata caught her looking. “What?”
you shook your head. “Nothing.”
Hinata squinted. “That’s suspicious.”
you laughed. “Oh my God. Now you’re copying me.”
Hinata pointed at you . “It’s because you’re rubbing off on me.”
you almost choked. “Sho!”
Hinata’s eyes went wide. “WAIT— I DIDN’T MEAN— I meant—”
you laughed so hard you had to bend forward. “You’re done. You’re done talking for the rest of the day.”
Hinata covered his face with both hands. “I hate my mouth.”
you patted his shoulder. “Too late. I love your mouth.”
Hinata’s head snapped up. “You—”
you smirked. “Now who’s red?”
Hinata made a strangled noise. “That’s not fair!”
you stood taller, refreshed and smug. “Welcome to my life.”
Back on the court, your eyes sharpened.
Hinata bounced, trying to look normal and failing in a way that was very Hinata.
you served first.
The rally started fast—you played smarter now, aiming away from Hinata’s strongest digs, forcing him to move deeper in the sand.
Hinata panted, laughing even as he chased. “You’re mean!”
you shot back, “I’m strategic!”
Hinata grinned. “Strategically mean!”
you scored with a sharp cut shot.
Hinata clapped. “Nice!”
you pointed at him. “Stop cheering for me!”
Hinata shrugged. “I can’t. It’s automatic.”
your lips twitched. “Focus, Sho.”
Hinata’s grin softened. “I am focused.”
you squinted. “Are you though?”
Hinata leaned forward, eyes bright. “Yes.”
you smirked. “Good.”
Set two stayed tight, but you found your rhythm—reading Hinata’s drops, chasing his corners, and refusing to laugh when he teased her mid-rally.
At 20–18, you served an ace.
Hinata blinked, stunned. “WHAT?!”
you raised your arms. “POINT!”
Hinata stared at you like you'd just revealed you could fly. “When did you learn that serve?!”
you shrugged. “I’ve been practicing.”
Hinata’s eyes widened. “Without me?”
you grinned. “Now who’s betrayed?”
Hinata gasped, melodramatic. “My heart!”
you laughed. “Match point.”
Hinata stepped back, serious now. “Okay.”
you served.
Hinata received.
you dug his spike.
Hinata dove for your return.
you set, jumped, and sent the ball right between his reach and the line.
It landed.
Set two: Maryka.
you exhaled hard, then raised a fist. “Yes!”
Hinata blinked, then broke into the biggest grin. “YES!”
you stared. “Why are you yelling yes?! You lost.”
Hinata walked closer, still smiling like an idiot. “Because you were awesome.”
you throat tightened. “sho~…”
Hinata scratched the back of his head, suddenly shy. “I like when you’re strong.”
you swallowed. “I like when you’re—” you stopped, annoyed at yourself. “No. We’re tied. Set three.”
Hinata’s eyes sparkled again. “Set three.”
you narrowed your eyes, but your smile returned. “Let’s go.”
The third set started with the kind of intensity that drew people in without them realizing it. A few bystanders paused mid-walk. Someone sat on the edge of a nearby bench. A kid stopped bouncing a ball just to watch.
You and Hinata moved like you were in your own world—sand, sun, and the sound of the ball hitting your arms.
At 10–10, Hinata’s breathing grew heavy.
you wiped sweat from your brow. “You’re slowing down.”
Hinata grinned, exhausted. “No, I’m not.”
you lifted a brow. “Hinata. Your legs are lying.”
Hinata huffed. “My legs are… dramatic.”
you laughed. “Same.”
They traded points again. At 14–14, match point approached like thunder.
Hinata served.
you received cleanly.
Hinata anticipated your shot and moved early.
you smirked, seeing it—and changed your plan at the last second, tapping the ball softly.
Hinata lunged, barely saving it.
“Nice!” you shouted.
Hinata sprang up, eyes blazing. “Nice!”
The rally grew longer—long enough that you arms began to sting, long enough that Hinata’s breaths came out sharp, long enough that the crowd started clapping in rhythm, caught up in it.
you dove, popped the ball up.
Hinata sprinted, saved it with a forearm pass that was almost impossible.
you recovered, set, and swung hard.
Hinata dug it again—sand flying.
you gasped. “You’re insane!”
Hinata yelled back, “SO ARE YOU!”
you laughed—breathless, half-delighted, half-feral—then chased the next ball, refusing to let it die.
Hinata leapt, twisting his body to keep the ball in play.
you scrambled, setting it back over with a desperate touch.
Hinata sprinted, jumped, and instead of spiking—he sent a gentle arc over the net into open sand.
you spun, dove—
Too late.
The ball kissed the sand.
For a second, the beach went quiet.
Then applause erupted, mixed with whistles and cheers.
Hinata stood frozen, chest heaving, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe he’d done it.
Then he looked at you.
you pushed herself up, sandy, smiling, breathless. “You—”
Hinata took a step closer to the net, voice trembling. “After the game.”
you swallowed. “Now?”
Hinata nodded, suddenly serious. “Now.”
you both walked toward the water, away from the court noise. Waves rolled in, foaming around their ankles. your heart thudded painfully, but Hinata’s hand—when he reached for yours—was warm and steady.
you squeezed his fingers. “Okay,” you said softly. “Talk.”
Hinata inhaled like he was about to jump for the highest ball of his life.
He stared at the ocean for a second, then turned to you, eyes bright and vulnerable.
“When I came here,” Hinata started, “I wanted to get better.”
you nodded slowly.
Hinata continued, voice quiet but clear. “I thought I was chasing volleyball.”
you watched him, unmoving.
Hinata’s smile softened. “But then I realized… I wasn’t just chasing volleyball.”
your throat tightened. “sho…”
Hinata exhaled. “I was chasing a life where I could keep moving forward—and you were there. Every day. Cheering me on. Fighting with me. Laughing at me. Getting mad at me when I eat only bananas—”
you let out a small, watery laugh. “As you should.”
Hinata smiled, then grew serious again. “When you’re with me,” he said, “I feel like I can do anything.”
you blinked fast. “sho, don’t—”
Hinata shook his head. “No. Let me say it.”
you fell silent.
Hinata swallowed hard. “I like the way you look at me like I’m ridiculous.”
you whispered, “You are ridiculous.”
Hinata nodded earnestly. “I like the way you challenge me. I like that you don’t let me get away with anything. I like that you’re strong. I like that you’re kind. I like that you stay.”
your eyes burned with tears now.
Hinata’s voice lowered, shaky. “I don’t want to just… travel together or train together or play together.”
your breath caught.
Hinata reached into the small bag slung over his shoulder. His fingers trembled as he pulled out a small box.
you froze completely.
Hinata looked up at you, eyes wide, raw, hopeful. “I wanted to do this in the place where we feel the most alive,” he said. “Not fancy. Not perfect. Just… us.”
you brought her hands to her mouth. “shoyo~…”
Hinata dropped to one knee in the wet sand.
The ocean rushed in and pulled back, like it was holding its breath with them.
Hinata’s voice shook, but it didn’t break. “Y/N~,” he said, “Kekkon shite kureru?" (will you marry me?)
you stared at him—at the boy who ran toward everything with his whole heart, who laughed loud and loved louder, who looked at you like you were his home.
your voice came out as a whisper. “sho… you can’t just do that.”
Hinata panicked instantly. “Is it bad?! I— I can stand up, I can—”
you dropped to your knees in front of him, hands on his cheeks. “It’s not bad,” you said fiercely, tears falling now. “It’s just— I can’t believe you.”
Hinata blinked rapidly. “You can’t believe me?”
you shook your head. “I can’t believe I get to be loved like this.”
Hinata’s eyes went glassy. “So… is that a yes?”
you laughed through tears. “Hinata, you’re still holding the ring like it might attack you.”
Hinata looked down like he’d forgotten his hands existed. “Oh my gosh.”
you squeezed his cheeks gently. “Yes,” she said, voice steady now. “Un, kekkon suru yo." (Yes. I’ll marry you.)
Hinata went still.
Then his face crumpled into pure joy.
“Yattaa!!" he yelled, loud enough that people down the beach turned and cheered like they somehow understood.
you laughed, pulling him into a tight hug. “Sho!”
Hinata clung to you like he’d been holding his breath for months. “You said yes,” he whispered, stunned. “You said yes.”
“I said yes,” you repeated, holding him just as tight. “I’m still saying yes.”
Hinata pulled back, eyes shining. “Can I put it on?”
you held out her hand, fingers trembling.
Hinata opened the box carefully, like it contained something sacred, and slid the ring onto your finger with reverent focus—like he was setting the final point of a championship match.
When it settled, he stared at it like the world had shifted.
you stared too, tears still falling, smiling so wide it hurt.
Hinata laughed shakily. “I’m— I’m going to explode.”
you sniffed. “Don’t. That would ruin the moment.”
Hinata hiccupped a laugh. “Okay.”
you touched his face again, softer now. “You’re really serious.”
Hinata nodded, eyes steady. “I’m serious about you.”
A wave rushed in and splashed their knees, cold enough to make both of them yelp.
you squealed. “Oh my—!”
Hinata jumped back, laughing. “The ocean approves!”
you laughed too, wiping your cheeks. “The ocean is aggressive!”
Hinata offered his hand. you took it, and he pulled you up—then, because he was Hinata, he spun you once in the sand and nearly tripped.
you grabbed his arm. “shoyo!”
Hinata laughed helplessly. “I’m happy!”
you leaned closer, forehead touching his. “Me too.”
Behind them, someone from the court shouted, “Ela disse sim?” (Did she say yes?)
you turned, startled.
Hinata’s eyes widened—then he grinned and shouted back in his messy Portuguese, “SIM! SIM!” (YES, YES)
The crowd reacted immediately—cheers, clapping, whistles, someone yelling “Parabéns!” (Congratulations!)
your face warmed. “Hinata, you just announced it to the beach.”
Hinata blinked like he hadn’t realized. “Oh.”
you stared at him.
Hinata smiled sheepishly. “I couldn’t help it.”
you laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”
Hinata leaned in, voice soft. “But you love me.”
you sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately.”
Hinata lit up. “YES!”
you tapped his chest. “Don’t yes me.”
Hinata grinned. “I can’t stop.”
you glanced at your ring again, then back at him. “What now?”
Hinata blinked. “Now?”
you nodded. “Now that you’ve proposed on a beach in Brazil like a romantic lunatic.”
Hinata thought very hard, then said, with complete seriousness, “Now… we play one more game.”
you stared. “sho....”
Hinata held up a finger. “Not best of three.”
you narrowed her eyes. “Oh?”
Hinata smiled, warm and bright. “Just one rally.”
your expression softened. “Why?”
Hinata reached for your hand again. “Because I want to remember what it felt like right before you said yes.”
you swallowed, eyes shining again. “sho…”
Hinata squeezed your fingers. “One rally. For us.”
you nodded slowly. “Okay.”
you both walked back toward the court together, hand in hand, sun on your shoulders and sand sticking to your skin, the beach still buzzing with happy strangers.
At the net, you took your position.
Hinata stood across from you, bouncing lightly.
you called, voice steady but full of laughter, “No tricks.”
Hinata grinned. “No promises.”
you smiled. “Serve.”
Hinata tossed the ball.
And as it rose into the bright Brazilian sky, his eyes met yours—full of love, mischief, and the kind of future that felt like an open horizon.
“Ready?” Hinata asked.
you smile widened. “Always.”
The ball dropped.
The rally began.
And somewhere between the sound of the waves and the thwack of the volleyball, it felt like the world itself was cheering them on.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/79861436/chapters/209591686
