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“Are those flowers in Kageyama-senpai and Hinata-senpai’s hair?” one of the new first years asks.
Tsukishima sighs as he secures his sports glasses firmly against his face. They’re about to be in their first official match of the season, and whether or not half the third years on the team are blossoming like the first days of spring is not one of his concerns, currently. He doesn’t have time to answer dumb questions sparked by the even dumber duo.
“Yeah!” Yamaguchi says. “They’re crowns.”
“Ooohhh,” the first year says. “Because they’re the ‘Kings of the Court’!”
“Yup!” Yamaguchi grins. “And it took a lot of work for them to get this far, so they like to show it off when they can.”
Tsukishima snorts. “They like to show off, period.”
“A lot of work?” another first year pipes up, confused. “But they’re the best players, like, ever, so what did they have to work a bunch for?”
Tsukishima glares in his direction and the unfortunate boy straightens up, looking absolutely terrified.
“What did they have to work for?” Tsukishima asks him. “Do you think you get good at anything, ever, if you don’t work for it?”
“But–” one of the other boys says, “Kageyama-senpai was a genius, even in middle school! And Hinata-senpai is faster than anyone, so–”
“Hinata made a fool of himself every time he stepped on the court when he first joined the team freshman year,” Tsukishima says, cutting him off. “Kageyama got benched in his final game in middle school.”
The first years look absolutely stunned. “Kageyama-senpai got benched?”
“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi hisses, but Tsukishima just rolls his eyes. If these little upstarts think they can get to the level those two monsters are at now without busting their asses for it, they’ve got another thing coming, and they need to learn it fast. Tsukishima isn’t about to carry dead weight around on his back.
“You can ask them about it yourself on the bus ride back,” he says. “Huddle up!”
The rest of the team falls in line, Kageyama and Hinata among them, though they continue whatever conversation they were previously having verbally without words, in the form of exchanged glances, elbow nudges, and stepping on each other’s feet. Kageyama frowns and minutely adjusts the circlet of bright blue flowers nestled in Hinata’s contrasting curly mop. A ring of orange sits atop Kageyama’s hair, like little candle flames against the nighttime sky.
Tsukishima knows, by now, that they’re still paying attention, so he doesn’t reprimand them. They’ve earned it.
“Kageyama,” Hinata asks, as he struggles to weave the flower stems and the leaves and the blooms through each other without the whole damn crown falling apart. The crowns usually get all messed up during games so they end up having to make new ones, every time. Hinata doesn’t mind, but honestly even he thought he’d be better at this by now.
“Hm?” Kageyama asks, deeply focused on his own task. His fingers move much more deftly, and he is farther along with his crown than Hinata. He’s always been better at making them, even when they first started out.
“Do you remember when you hated being called King?”
Kageyama blinks up at him. “Yeah,” he says. “How would I just forget that? My memory doesn’t suck like yours.”
“My memory doesn’t suck!” Hinata says. “I was just wondering, because you seem to not mind it so much anymore!”
“Well, yeah,” Kageyama says. “I like it now. It’s cool.”
“That’s what I said when we first met,” Hinata says. “I already knew it was cool, you were the one who got all grumpy–”
“It wasn’t cool before,” Kageyama tells him. “But it is now that I’m not the only one they call that.”
He has finished the crown he is making. Carefully, he leans forward, to place it on top of Hinata’s head, to make sure it fits. It does, like always; the crowns they have made for each other throughout the years–whether through petals or promises–have always fit.
Hinata grins at him. “Are you saying I helped you become cool, Kageyama?”
“Hell no,” Kageyama says. He kisses Hinata, and then concedes, against smiling lips: “But you did help me become me.”
Hinata pushes him down into the grass, strewn with blue and orange flower petals, and kisses him back.
n9evepulgas
