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Kageyama’s feet trudge through the halls of the exhibit.
The team was currently at a local aquarium, being deemed a “team-bonding experience”, or otherwise known as “let’s cause chaos in public” (not that Kageyama can talk, being that he’s usually the one involved in incidents regarding a certain carrot top).
Right now though, he’s relatively alone, his usual annoying companion bounding ahead to see all the colorful fish as their upperclassmen attempt to quell his endless excitement.
The aquarium is filled with different exhibits all decorated to match the environments of the fish that are held inside. He doesn’t think much of it, passing by all the glass boxes as if they were less interesting than the trees outside.
Kageyama stops for a second, turning to stare at a particularly large display, even though he has no interest whatsoever.
He’s never had an interest in animals in general, and had an inkling they didn’t like him either with how quickly they scamper away from him when he even tries to get within a twenty foot radius of them.
His point is proven when he steps closer to the glass and the crowd of fish that had been hovering there immediately scatters at his presence.
They taste better than they look anyways. He thinks.
“They don’t really like you, don’t they?” A voice interrupts.
His thoughts of turning the fish into a platter of sushi are cut off by someone that slides into the empty spot beside him.
“Yeah, stupid fish.” He responds.
A giggle bubbles up beside him, and Kageyama turns to get a good look at who just interrupted his dinner plans rather than squint at your vague silhouette reflected by the glass.
You’re shorter than him, just barely reaching his shoulder, but your features are dazzling under the blue and turquoise lighting of the aquarium walls. You’re wearing a similarly blue shirt with the aquarium's name plastered to the front, and a name tag with characters he can’t quite make out. He notices the shirt is the same as some of the other staff he’d passed before, and immediately regrets calling the fish stupid in front of you.
Is it offensive to call fish stupid like it would be to call someone’s pet stupid?
“I wouldn’t call them stupid, but I can understand your resentment, angelfish don’t really seem to like me either.”
You look like an angel. He almost blurts out.
Instead of letting those words slip out to someone he just met, he doubles down and smacks himself to shake the thoughts from his head.
Crap.
Kageyama wonders if this can go any worse. Go figure for him to embarrass himself in front of the first pretty stranger he meets at some random aquarium in Miyagi.
He can feel steam billowing out of his ears and he turns a bright shade of red, and he doesn’t want to face you and see your expression.
Still, Kageyama can’t seem to stop the words from coming out of his mouth, even if it’s in an awkward stuttery mess.
“Do animals not like you too?”
It’s a pathetic attempt to keep up conversation, but you pause for a moment, genuinely considering his question.
“Well, I’d hope that they’d like me a little bit, but these little guys are just a little skittish. They tend to be that way when you’re scowling at them.”
Oh.
Kageyama doesn’t usually notice it, but he’s always had a sort of permanent scowl etched onto his face. He thinks it’s only gotten worse from having to deal with the shortie and even more aggravating glasses guy every day of the week now.
He tries to soften his expression as he turns back to look at the tank.
The angelfish have hidden themselves in the aquatic foliage, but a few come out of hiding after a while.
If he really thinks about it, he almost thinks they’re pretty.
Not as pretty as you though.
“Y’know, maybe animals wouldn’t be as scared if you looked as relaxed as you do now. Plus, it’s a good look on you.” You chirp, still focused on watching the fish as they swim across the glass.
Forgetting about the fish, Kageyama turns to you, a light blush dusting his cheeks at the compliment.
He doesn’t think anyone can look so beautiful. Looking into your eyes, he can see the way the light reflects, making your eyes seem like a deep shimmering ocean.
He feels like he could drown in them.
“Hurry up Kageyama! We’re about to go see the gift shop!”
An irritating voice breaks his train of thought, and his face immediately morphs back into his signature scowl.
“Yeah moron, I know!” Kageyama yells back, not wanting to be schooled by the shortie.
He turns back to you now realizing that you got to witness his outburst, the fish once again dispersing into the coral and plants.
“It seems like you have to go now.” You respond calmly, and he can’t tell if you’re just choosing to ignore what just happened or you're secretly laughing at him internally.
“Uh, yeah.” Kageyama responds, shuffling from one foot to the other, not knowing if he should leave or not.
“What’s your name?” You ask.
Kageyama doesn’t know why it’s so easy to give in to everything you ask of him.
“Tobio Kageyama.”
Of all the moments for you to laugh at something he had said, his name is definitely the last one he expects to get a giggle out of.
“Kind of like flying fish.” You choke out between giggles.
First of all, Kageyama thinks, it’s “Tobio” and not “Tobiuo”. Secondly, he stands frozen in place as he watches you almost double over in a fit of giggles because his name sort of sounds like the characters for “Flying Fish”.
As your laughter dies down, you clear your throat and wipe the tears that had formed in the corners of your eyes.
“Well Tobiuo, I hope you visit again someday.” You say, ready to wave him off.
As he turns around, waving goodbye to you, he doesn’t remember to ask you for your name, nor does he remember to correct you that it’s “Tobio” and not “Tobiuo”.
Regrouping with the rest of the team in the gift shop, he peruses the selection of various fridge magnets and plushies, ignoring the fact that Nishinoya and Hinata both look like they’re about to knock over one of the display cases with their hyperactivity.
He stops in front of a rotating standee with an array of marine animal keychains, spinning it as he looks over the different types of fish, knowing he can’t name a single one besides goldfish.
Stopping the standee, he plucks a keychain off the rack.
It’s an angelfish, similar to the ones he had just been watching with you.
Even though he still doesn’t really like them, he buys it anyways.
As they exit the aquarium, the team begins heading their separate ways, shouting out farewells and reminders of the upcoming games.
Hinata, though, sticks to him like a magnet the moment he steps outside.
“What’d you buy Kageyama?” He asks, already nosy.
Shoving his fists and the keychain deeper into his pockets, Kageyama attempts to shake the annoyingly clingy middle blocker off of him.
“Nothing you idiot, get off me!”
Even with his sharpened senses from volleyball, the tiny orange-haired boy is still somehow faster, and manages to yank Kageyama’s hand out of his pocket.
The angelfish catches the light, its colors highlighted by the setting sun.
“Wow Kageyama, I didn’t think you’d like those little fish.”
I didn’t either. Kageyama thinks, but keeps it to himself this time.
“You’d think you’d like those big scary sharks, they do kinda look like you.”
This comment deepens Kageyama’s scowl as his expression darkens, and he chases after Hinata as the pair run down the streets, spouting insults at each other along the way.
…
Kageyama doesn’t expect to ever see you again.
He can’t seem to find a reason to return to the aquarium, and he doesn’t know if you’ll be there even if he visits.
So instead, he attaches the angelfish keychain to his backpack and continues to dive head first into his volleyball training.
Being in the middle of Interhigh, they were now approaching their game against Aoba Johsai. Kageyama considered how the last practice match went, and how he’d be facing his biggest rival and old teammates.
He’d be lying if he said the thought of it didn’t bother him, but the idea of losing bothered him even more, overpowering his prior sentiments.
Still, it’s a rocky game, and Kageyama and Oikawa go toe to toe in a battle of setters on the court.
It shakes Kageyama.
It shakes him to the point where he’s subbed out, and Kageyama takes the time to reflect on his opponent and the court in front of him.
There’s a new resolve when he’s swapped back in and makes his way back onto the court.
It’s interrupted by a shout from the stands.
It’s not from the large cheer sections, but it doesn’t come from Karasuno’s (unfortunately very small) cheer section either.
Instead, it comes from someone leaning over the railing, standing in front of the Aoba Johsai cheer squad.
“You can do it Flying Fish!”
Kageyama’s attention snaps upward, and he immediately knows who it is.
You’re not wearing the aquarium shirt from before, but you instead sport the Aoba Johsai uniform. Your hair hangs in front of your face as you lean downward, and for a second he’s worried you might topple over the edge. Still, he doesn’t think he’s seen someone so beautiful, only being highlighted by the overhead gym lights.
He’s appalled that you’d be cheering for him when you’re clearly here in support of Aoba Johsai, but he still feels his heart swell with determination as he locks his gaze with yours and gives you a resolved nod.
As he turns back to the court, it seems like everyone is confused at what just transpired.
Hinata has a dumbfounded expression, and immediately questions him on why he was just called “Flying Fish”.
Tsukishima, who’s luckily subbed out right now, has a devious grin on his face, clearly ready to tease the setter once he’s rotated onto the court.
On the other hand, Aoba Johsai is equally confused by this clear betrayal of support.
Out of all of them though, Oikawa looks the most pissed.
The whistle blows, and everyone immediately focuses back onto the game ahead, and Kageyama is ready to sink his next serve.
…
Even with the determination and adrenaline pumping through his veins, it’s not enough.
Hinata’s spike gets blocked, and Kageyama watches in slow motion as the ball hits the gym floor with a resounding thud.
He doesn’t know if it hurts more than they just lost, or that it truly was the best choice he could have made at the time.
Either way, defeat is crushing, and the cheers of Aoba Johsai are distant as Karasuno faces a deafening silence.
His upperclassmen are crying, and he can’t bring himself to do or say anything.
Instead, the coach and Takeda round the group of sweaty and broken teenagers up, and they resolve themselves as the match comes to its final close.
They agree to go out to dinner afterwards, no longer in celebration but in condolence.
Kageyama is the first to head outside, seeking the fresh air to clear his mind and numb his aching limbs.
He sits on a bench, forgoing his phone in favor of just staring up at the skyline as the breeze tickles his bangs.
He doesn’t notice the footsteps that slowly approach him, assuming it’s a teammate come to collect him to head out.
“You played really well out there today.”
It’s definitely not Hinata’s voice.
Kageyama shakes himself out of his daze, and he’s surprised to see you standing in front of him.
He doesn’t quite know what to say, not finding the energy to protest, but not really knowing how to accept the compliment.
Instead, he lets you take the lead.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone fly that high, especially not any flying fish. Although your little red-haired friend may have topped you.”
Even in a sorrowful moment, Kageyama finds himself chuckling at the continued use of the flying fish pun.
“Thanks for coming to watch the game today. I promise we’ll win next time.” Kageyama says, standing up with perseverance.
“I’ll be counting on it.”
Not wanting to spoil the moment, Kageyama gathers all his confidence, not letting this opportunity slip him by.
“By the way, I was wondering if I could get your numb-”
His speech is cut off as someone else butts into the conversation, wrapping an arm around your shoulder (he really just keeps getting interrupted, doesn’t he?).
“Who’re you talking to [Y/N]-chan?”
Oikawa, in all his smug glory, looks from beyond your shoulder and immediately is taken aback to see his ex-junior talking with you.
“Tobio-chan?” Oikawa exclaims.
Equally appalled, Kageyama is stunned to see Oikawa so buddy-buddy with you.
“So this is the Tobio-chan you talk about Toru?” You chime in.
What.
Kageyama doesn’t think this could get any more confusing.
A beat of silence passes as the two setters glare daggers at each other, trying to sniff out the connection each other has to you.
You clear your throat, intent on stopping the staring battle that had begun between you both.
“Tobiuo, this is my older brother Oikawa, but it seems like you’ve already met.”
Oh.
“And Oikawa, this is Tobiuo, we both met at the aquarium I work at.”
Oikawa gives Kageyama another look up and down, clearly not wanting to believe this story.
“You better not be making any moves on my little sister, Tobiuo.” He puts emphasis on the new nickname.
Kageyama immediately tries to defend himself, but is once again cut off by a crowd of players exiting the stadium.
Both teams, wearing opposing colored jackets all clump together, trying to not interact in any way that would likely devolve into a fight.
“It looks like we have to go, but I’ll see you at the next game, Tobiuo!” You shout, waving him goodbye as you head off with Oikawa to join the rest of Aoba Johsai, his arm still protectively wrapped around your shoulder.
Kageyama watches your retreating form as long as he can before the rest of the team drags him off as well, and he once again forgets to ask you for your number.
Next time, he thinks.
Next time they’ll win too.