Chapter Text
The nightmares come at early dawn, as they do.
Waking up in a cold sweat, ruining his beauty rest is the last thing on Kageyama Tobio’s feeble mind as he jolted awake, his eyes flinging open. He was no longer in his nightmare, he was in his bedroom. Light had not yet reached his window, and the frost that covered the panes of glass hadn’t began to glisten.
As they do.
It took him a while to adjust to his settings, as was typical during the harder nights when things like this happened. Although it wasn’t really nighttime any longer, Kageyama desperately wished that it was. He clung onto the last remaining droplets of good sound rest like it was his lifeline. Truth be told, as much as he hated waking up like this, he was used to it. That stupid nightmare, with the basement and- and what was down there, however, still made the hair on the nape of his neck prickle. The heating vent above his bed kicked on, and he felt the warm air cascading down his bare shoulders as he checked his alarm- four-thirty, on the dot. Not as bad as last week, he would give himself that. He slid out of the comforting embrace of the duvet, and his feet landed on the cold hardwood. And thus, began the meticulous process of his morning routine.
The first thing to be fixed was his bed. He folded the duvet back into place, fluffed his pillows, and made sure not a single wrinkle was visible. He had gotten quite good at this, since he almost always now had two extra hours in the morning to do as he pleased. He trudged to the door of his bedroom, swinging it open slowly. The door didn’t make a sound-another trick he had learned due to being up so early; he had to tiptoe his way around his parents. The bathroom light was on, as always, and Kageyama squinted as the light hit him. he looked down at his feet, his spindly legs, his concave torso, and then rolled his head up to look in the mirror- Same old grey eyes, his hair a slight mess. Split ends.. he’s gotta get rid of those someday. Abilitol is sitting on the bottom shelf on the right hand side of his medicine counter, which he took like it was a religious practice.
If habit is king, then his own oligarchy is downright tyrannical.
The shower spitted water through the faucet a few times before the warm water began to stream down, and Kageyama stepped inside after undressing. He let the water mat his hair down as the next ten minutes became a blur. The Abilitol always did this..
“Once in the morning, once at night…”
“Just take the pills Kageyama. Maybe then you’ll stop having your episodes.”
What the fuck ever.
Truth be told, he and Abilitol had a hate-hate relationship. He always thought it was kind of stupid that the side affects, at least a few of them, were things that his shrink was hoping they’d get rid of as a result of the medication. However the amount of irony the situation presents, Kageyama’s father was a big believer in the whole modern day psychiatric medical scene. So it was only natural that he would make his son go to a doctor whose only treatment came from an orange bottle. Tragically, it was always thus.
After the shower, after dashing back to his room in a towel to dress himself, he sat himself back down on his bed and checked online for homework. Sure, it was the fifth time he had checked since the afternoon yesterday when he came home, but it never hurt to check again. Nothing out of the ordinary so far as he scanned down his news feed, just the same old same old…
Stop.
There was something new on the page, sandwiched snugly in between his math assignments and his biology lab. A news article for the Liberty High School Journalism Club. The LHJC was known for some really good articles (even some controversial ones within the school district). This should be interesting. Kageyama clicked the link on his laptop and followed the article as it unfolded.
“LHJC is having an anonymous confession period…”
“Students lives… Reflected in a whole new way… Names will not be published..”
“Interviews at 3 pm in room L8.”
Well good god, wasn’t that something. So the club was writing an article about students, huh? Although he knew he shouldn’t, Kageyama couldn’t stop thinking about how he could actually confess something he’s held inside him. And that it would be published. And… And god, everyone would know but they wouldn’t really know, would they? The thought of that made the blood rush to his head. His story would be all over the school, but… No one would even know it was him. That was exhilarating. Kageyama checked his alarm; the time had passed to about five AM. He still had another hour before he was supposed to really be up, and he was still so curious about the interviews. Too bad he didn’t really know anyone in the LHJC or he would ask them more about it. He supposed, then, that he would simply go in blind. Sometimes it was just better to do that. Ignorance is bliss, after all. At the bottom of the news tab, there was a form that was there for those who would like to be interviewed to sign up. Kageyama sat there for a good ten minutes, staring at the blank document. Would he really do this? Or was the question should he? After all the things he had to go through, Kenma certainly believed that the story should be told. It could be dangerous, however, if anything got out that wasn’t supposed to.
Like Reason Number One; the disappearance of his mother.
From the time he was ten years old and forward hence, Kageyama’s mother wasn’t around the house anymore. His dad said that “mom had to go and take care of herself”. Like the ten-year-old he was at the time, Kageyama could not accept the fact that his mom was somewhere where he couldn’t reach out to her. And it was barely fine that way for a while, living in New Hampshire with his father. Kageyama, after getting vague answers to the “where’s mom?” question, gave up trying to figure it out around thirteen. There was no use. Dad just kept saying that she needed to take care of things, that things didn’t work out between them. Then, to put the icing on the cake, his dad met a newer, shinier mother figure that he claimed would revolutionize their family. How could she not? She was prettier, she was younger, and goddammit, she was perfect. And she was Reason Number Two. He couldn’t picture why his dad would replace his mom, his real mom, with… With a bookstore owner named Gianna. Kageyama started getting frustrated, and when he got frustrated, odd things would happen to his brain (the nightmares didn’t help) that concerned his father a little too much. He was fourteen when he met his first bonafide shrink, Dr. Hertz. He was a good doctor, Kageyama could see that; he didn’t believe in medicating fourteen-year-olds, although he knew upfront that Kageyama had an issue. Oh boy, his dad did not like that. He took Kageyama out of that office so fast after being diagnosed that he thought he got whiplash.
“Symptoms of depression.. and you’re not treating him?”
The so-called neglect of his first doctor and the constant reminder that his mother was no longer in the picture led Kageyama to Reason Number Three; Professor Fernandez. He was no doctor, oh no- he was a professor. And he took his work incredibly seriously, which his dad was overjoyed to see. Two meetings in and he had prescribed Kageyama with the infamous drug, and made it seem as if all of his problems were going to disappear. Oh, the allure of medicated ecstasy. Hell, pure fucking bliss. If Kageyama didn’t know any better, he would actually think the pills were for himself.
Neither of Kageyama’s Reasons were ever released to the public. Not even to his closest friends. So why now? Why in this potentially catastrophic situation, was Kageyama so inclined to reach out to people he didn’t even know? The answer: Anonymity. He was giving himself a heavy-handed welcome into a world full of weak hands. And they wouldn’t even realize they were being dragged down.
Kageyama filled the application out and hit send just as the clock struck six AM.
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Reason Number Four, as Kageyama would come to find out upon entering room L8, was the interview.
He didn’t know where he was going with this. He was expecting to sit down with a nerdy kid, and answer some pretty basic questions that they had pre-meditated, and watch aforementioned kid jot down a few notes before sending him on his merry way. What he was not expecting was to sit down all alone in front of a nerdy kid, and just talk. Just fucking talk. Can you believe it? It wasn’t in typical interview style, which was an obvious; the instructor, before letting the interviewers and the interviewees get to work, explained the entire situation. The journalists were to sit their test subjects down and spark a question. a pretty generic one, may he add. And from there, all they had to do was sit back and take copious amounts of notes while the volunteers spilled until there was nothing to spill.
“Just tip the barrel, let the apples do the rest.”
Thanks, Mr. March.
3:15 PM, and Kageyama Tobio was sitting with the scrawniest looking boy he had ever seen. He was sitting cross-legged on the plastic chair beneath him (an amazing feat on its own- God, how small was he?), and his fiery hair made a lit candle look dull. He sighed as Mr. March finally finished his lengthy speech about keeping the integrity of anonymous source intact, and smiled brightly at Kageyama. Was everything about him bright? Twas a mystery.
“I’m Hinata. Hinata Shouyou,” The boy said, his introduction accompanied by the outward reach of his hand. “I’m going to be conducting our interview today. And you are..?” Hinata studied Kageyama, his overbearing curiosity becoming very apparent to him. Hinata was already turning into somewhat of an anomaly to him.
“Kageyama Tobio,” He answered cooly, taking Hinata’s hand and shaking it before folding his hands in his lap. Hinata began to jot something down and his pulse rose in tempo by a good ten beats. Wasn’t this an anonymous interview? He was about to interject when Hinata interrupted his train of thought.
“-Ah, don’t worry,” He said, glancing up at him. “Your name is no longer Kageyama Tobio. It’s Anonymous 9, and I’m going to write the interview with that name. I promise.” He gave Kageyama a smile before leaning forward, his hand supporting his chin. “So, Anon 9. Why did you decide to grace us with your presence and your story?”
If he was being honest, it was a hard question to answer in its entirety. He came here, of course, because of the allure of finally getting things off his chest. In the back of his mind, however, it was for recognition. Selfishness doesn’t discriminate, and Kageyama was no exception. “I think it’s time I got some things off my chest,” he said. “Y’know, about things I just never saw fit to come up in conversation.” Hinata nodded, and his eyes grew wide. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a small silver recording device.
“Uh-crap, sorry. I forgot to turn this on. Okay, Hold on..” He fiddled with the recorder, and Kageyama rolled his eyes. Even though he barely knew this guy as of fifteen minutes ago, somehow he felt that faults like this were a typical occurrence for him. He finally got it set up and then set the recorder on his lap. “Could you say that again, for the recording? I’m going to look back on this later so I can write the article.”
“Uh, sure,” Kageyama mumbled. He felt much more mindful of his voice now, the knowledge of being recorded being the center of his attention. “I think it’s time I got some things off my chest,” He said, remembering his words as best he could. “Y’know, about things I just never saw fit to come up in conversation.”
Hinata nodded, abandoning his clipboard and papers to pay closer attention. “Okay, and if you don’t mind explaining.. What are those things hanging in your mind?”
There was a long, long pause before Kageyama spoke again. The question hung in the air, suspended like a heavy morning mist. It was crystal clear, of course; what was bugging him? The answer, also, was surprisingly simple. everything. Every fucking thing since his mom left, and was unfairly replaced with Perfect Gianna, and… And who knew what else added to the pile of shit that was his situation. So, with that, Kageyama answered in the most honest way he could.
“My Reasons,” he said, watching Hinata as his expression changed. It was curious, but his concern laced through his face, replacing the blood in his arteries. He continued, unfazed. “My Reasons. I call them that because they’re the biggest reasons right now as to why I feel… Not myself.” He paused, waiting for Hinata to give him the go-ahead. Hinata raised his eyebrows, and that was Kageyama’s cue.
“Reason number one is my mom. My real mom.” Kageyama felt as if his veins were disintegrating as he mentioned the thought. He cleared his throat. “- My mom… my mom and I were close. She and I… We just got each other, you know? We clicked like no one else in the world even came close to clicking. We’re still like that, at least I’d like to think so. Up until I was about ten, we were the closest of pairs. we always shared secrets and we knew, mutually, that we could trust each other with anything. She had this amazing, zany personality. it was infectious. And then one day, just like that, boom. Mom and dad are getting a divorce.
“It was so sudden that I couldn’t even believe it. I thought my parents were head-over-heels for each other, you know? But doesn’t every young kid, I mean, they’re your parents. Parents don’t just stop loving each other. My dad, however, explained it to me like this: Your mom needs to go somewhere, she’s got to figure some things out. Maybe she’ll be back someday. What the hell that was supposed to mean, I don’t know. I still don’t know. Maybe she’s sick, but I try not to think about it. After a few years of it being just me and the old man, I got a new stepmom.” Kageyama broke his dialogue, pausing and swallowing hard. He blinked slowly. “…Her name is Gianna and she works at Barnes and Noble. She’s been with us for about two years now, maybe a bit more.. Can’t remember. She’s reason number two. It was just fine as it was without her, but when she started hanging around the house instead of just catching glimpses of us at the bookstore, I knew that.. I knew that my dad had forgotten about my mom.
Kageyama fell silent, and he looked up. He didn’t really know what else to say right now. That… That took a whole lot of energy out of him. He half expected Hinata to be asleep by now; he knew that the story, to others, was probably as boring as a history textbook. However, when he did happen to look up, he saw Hinata, eyes wide and glistening. His lower lip was tucked in between his teeth, and his chin quivered slightly. He was listening. Really listening. Hinata realized that he was being studied and he straightened up, gasping.
“I- do go on,” He stuttered, embarrassed to be caught listening so intently. Kageyama gave him a polite smile, and continued.
“Reason number three,” Kageyama started up again, “Is Dr. Hernandez. Or more specifically, Abilitol. Long story short, after a trial run of my first therapist, my dad decided he needed to up the ante. He needed a “real” psychiatrist, one that wasn’t all about the “wholesome way to heal”. Whatever that meant. Dr. Hernandez was just that person for my dad. After my depressive episodes started getting worse and my nightmares began to reoccur more than once a week, my dad started getting a little too nervous for me. He’s a big stickler on the modern medicine thing. And so in order to help me out, he had Dr. Hernandez give me Abilitol. And… Well, truthfully, I don’t really know if it’s for my sake, or his. I just.” Kageyama stopped, swallowing the dryness in his throat. “I think he wants me to be happy because he doesn’t want to have to deal with me being sad.”
Hinata and Kageyama sat there in room L8 for a long time, looking at each other. Understanding each other. It was more one-sided, of course; When secrets are shared, it’s only up to the other on whether to act upon sharing their own. Hinata was the one to break the quiet between them, reaching over and shuffling through papers on his clipboard. He fumbled to turn the recording off. “Uh. Thank you.. Kageyama. A lot. This interview really opened my eyes to things.” To what? Kageyama thought as he watched him jot a few things down on a new slip of paper. When he was finished he passed the paper to Kageyama, and upon it he had written a few things; permission to be recorded, permission of information use, the usual. He took a pen from one of the empty desks behind him and scribbled his signature inside the designated boxes. Upon handing it back to his interviewer, they exchanged yet another slip. This time, the paper was smaller, folded up into little pieces. Kageyama looked up at him, but Hinata refused to meet his gaze.
What was inside the paper surprised him. He unfolded it right in front of Hinata, who was now fidgeting in his chair as he tried to find something to do.
Kageyama,
Your interview was great, and eye-opening. We have a lot of the same issues, believe it or not.. Maybe we’re both not all that alone. We should chat sometime.
- 619-XXX-XXXX - ~Hinata Shouyou
He’d be regretting it forever if he didn’t accept his offer. Kageyama slipped out of the seat he was in and slung his book bag over his shoulder. Looking back as he turned to walk away, he saw just how anxious Hinata was. He smiled slightly.
“Agreed.” Hinata would know exactly what that meant.