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“Set point,” Kageyama said.
“Get that point!” His team yelled.
It was match point of their last set of their last game of Nationals. If they could just get that point, they could win. Victory was so close Kageyama could smell the medal around his neck. They all improved so much, so fast. They all worked so hard from day one until the moment they stood on that court. They earned it. They deserved it.
He held the ball to his forehead, bringing in every single nerve and cell in his body to one full understanding; he was going to get that point with his serve.
His body ached. It was more than an ache. His body howled. It cried out for rest, for a break from the explosive and relentless movement. His brain told it to be quiet and do what it was told. They were one point away.
The noise died out around him; it was only him and the ball. The people in the bleachers disappeared. His teammates, once looking forward, battle faces on and positions ready to strike, faded from existence. It was only him and the ball.
He took it and threw it up, staring at it as it flew. He took a slow step forward, then chased after it.
‘Just touch it,’ he thought.
He jumped up and his hand made perfect contact with the equator of the ball. The noise was loud. The world came to life around him once again as his feet touched the vinyl floor. The crowd cheered, and the players yelled. The yellow and blue blur flew over the net, and as if in slow motion, Yamamoto, Kuroo and Kenma all dived for the ball. The ball contacted Kuroo’s fist at the last second and ricocheted into the wall.
Kageyama’s face flushed, his eyes deceived him. There was no way it actually worked. The gymnasium was silent. The room held its breath until the whistle blew and the flags flew down. The referee held his arm to Karasuno.
Kageyama let his breath out. He fell to his knees, unblinking, disbelieving.
“Kageyama!!” His team screamed before smothering him in a pile of body odour and tears.
Hinata was the first to get to him, and so took up his complete front. Kageyama wrapped his arms around him and cried into his neck. They stayed like that until an officiator had to remind them to shake hands with Nekoma.
Eyes red and cheeks wet, they lined up at the net. Kenma glared at him the entire time they had to pretend to get along. As soon as he was able, the blond setter moved to shake Hinata’s hand.
“You deserve this,” he said.
“Thank you,” Hinata gargled.
When Kageyama felt their handshake went on too long for his own personal comfort, he approached and took Hinata by the waist, “Hey, we should go back and see Coach.”
“Yeah,” Hinata beamed at him. He bowed to Kenma and turned to walk with Kageyama with Kenma glaring at the tall setter the whole way.
Upon rejoining their team, Kageyama noticed they were once again in tears, embracing their coach.
“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Nishinoya sniffled.
“Thank you for coaching us,” they yelled.
“You’ve made it a pleasure,” Ukai said. “You should be thanking Specs, here. I would’ve never come on if it weren’t for his tenacious begging.”
They turned their attention to him and bowed, “Thank you for everything!”
Takeda shook his hands at them as he blushed, “No, guys! It was really nothing! Promise!”
They pulled each other all into an enormous hug once again, crying and laughing.
-
After the award ceremony, they made their way to the change room, golden medals hanging proudly over their chests.
As Kageyama sat to remove his shoes and knee pads, Daichi addressed them.
“You guys know this is our last year,” his voice was heavy. “And I just want to thank you for making it the most rewarding, intense, and pleasurable year possible. It was an honor to play with you all.”
The second and first years stood to bow to him.
“You were an amazing captain, Daichi. We always knew you’d be,” Nishinoya said between tears.
“It won’t be the same without you,” Hinata cried. “Without any of you.”
Daichi moved forward and put his hands on the ginger’s shoulders, “We’ll still be around.”
Kageyama squeezed his eyes shut, thankful that his bow hid his face. Tears squeezed through his eyelids and fell to the floor. He never thought he could feel so strongly for his teammates. At that moment, he almost wished he didn’t.
He saw a hand in front of him. He steeled his expression and looked up. He saw Sugawara with an outstretched hand, wearing a sad smile.
“I’m honored to have worked with you,” he said. “I’ll watch you on TV when you make it big.”
Kageyama’s face crumbled as he shook his upperclassman’s hand and pulled him into a tight hug. There were so many things he wanted to say to him. The words were lodged in his throat, and he couldn’t get them out.
He kept Kageyama close and whispered, “You don’t need to say anything. I know.”
He always was perceptive. Kageyama’s tears fell faster, and he did all he could to keep himself from sobbing helplessly into his arms. He felt more bodies wrap around him, then even more. They stayed together and cried for a long time. The moment was so bittersweet. It was better than losing and still having so say goodbye to their team as it was; he supposed.
They broke apart when Takeda came to remind them the bus was waiting.
They slowly and silently changed back into their pedestrian clothes, some of them knowing they were taking their uniforms off for the last time. Hinata approached Kageyama when he was done changing and waited quietly for him to be done, too. When he was, he reached out and took his hand.
Hinata walked hand in hand with Kageyama, behind the rest of their team, to the bus. They said nothing the entire way. They allowed their emotions to settle deeply into their skin, allowing the shock to wear off and the reality of it all to hit them.
They boarded the bus and took their regular seats. Once they were all settled in, Ukai kneeled on his seat to address them.
“You were all amazing. You fought until your last breaths and came out on top! We’re gonna go get some food and you’re all gonna keep that gold on you, you earned it.”
“Coach!” They yelled.
-
A week passed since they won Nationals. The now second and third years were back in school. It felt weird being stopped in the halls and congratulated. It felt weirder to have girls fawning over them. Weirdest of all, though, was knowing they ran no chance of running into Daichi, Sugawara or Asahi in the halls or at practices.
Ukai invited the previous third years to their practice that night, asking for a game. Kageyama hurried to the gym so he could be there before they inevitably showed up. He met Tsukishima, Tadashi, Hinata, Tanaka and Nishinoya in the same room so many of his best and worst memories lay. A keyboard stood in the centre of one half of the court and Tadashi held a guitar. The new first years and other third years stood off to the side, smiling at them.
“Are you ready?” Hinata smiled at him.
Kageyama smiled back and nodded, taking his place behind the keyboard. Piano was one of the many extracurriculars his parents shoved him into. He wasn’t passionate about it, but he was always good. He preferred to use his large hands to play- no- to dominate at volleyball.
Not too long after, their old teammates appeared in their athletic gear. They stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing the bizarre scene ahead.
“Hey,” Hinata said. “I know it’s only been a week, but we miss you guys so much.”
“So we practiced something for you,” Nishinoya said.
Sugawara, Daichi and Asahi smiled warmly as they sat cross-legged on the ground before them.
Tadashi began strumming slowly on his guitar, with Kageyama joining in shortly after on the keyboard.
Tadashi sang quietly.
“When we see in the mirror our wrinkled faces, full of story...
when we have less time ahead than we do now...
when we will finally be able to live slowly...
when the house will be paid and what will remain is to love each other…”
The rest of the boys joined in for the chorus.
“We will still love each other;
through doubts,
through the path and much, much more.
We will still love each other;
through good,
through setbacks of life,
to death we will still love each other.”
Hinata took the second verse, closing his eyes with a smile.
“When the children will be gone, we will have seen them grow up.
When it will be their turn to choose, their turn to build a life.
When our heads will be white, when we will have experience.
When no one will expect us, what will remain is to love you…”
Tadashi and Hinata sang softly together, their voices an angelic harmony.
“When the times will have changed, when we will be completely out of style.
When all the bombs will have exploded, when peace will be there to stay.
When without a compass nor plan, we will move according to the wind.
When we will rise our sails becoming stardust.”
They joined all of their voices together.
“We will love each other;
after the good times,
after the setbacks and much, much more.
We will love each other;
at the end of our doubts,
at the end of the road,
beyond death.
We will love each other;
at the end of our doubts,
at the end of the road,
beyond death.
We will love each other.”
Tadashi gave his guitar a final slow strum as he looked up at his former teammates. The three of them had tears in their eyes and quickly stood to charge them. They were brought into a warm embrace.
“I don’t remember marrying you guys, but that was beautiful anyway,” Asahi said tearfully.
Hinata laughed, “It’s a song my mom always sang to us growing up. She said it’s a song for ‘when we need to feel loved’.”
“Your mom’s a wonderful woman,” Sugawara said.
“She definitely is,” Kageyama agreed.
“Thank you for that, guys,” Daichi said, then looked at the onlooking club members. He waved them over, “Come on, guys! We’re all Karasuno and we always will be!”
They shared a quick glance between each other before joining the embrace, beaming.
‘He’ll always be the captain,’ Kageyama thought.
When they broke apart they wiped their tears from their cheeks and shouted, “Karasuno fight!”