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Like all other stupid rules, Kageyama doesn’t know how this one came about. (What is the word when men decide everything and think they are better? Patriarchy?) All through junior high It’s been repeated, mostly by elders in family dinners.
“Tobio-chan, looks like you’ve grown again. How would you find a nice boy even taller than you?”
She was barely 15. It makes her face twitch every time and, sensing a storm, her mum would appear right on cue to shoo the offending relative away. “Tobio-chan is still so young! No need to worry about such things...”
That night, she let herself imagine nestling next to a taller boy in a chilly night on the way home. She didn’t know who it should be. Frustratingly the figure remained a faceless shadow, and she gave up soon after. Every day she’s training to be better, faster, stronger. Who has time to fantasise about leaning on tall boys?
Until she arrived at Karasuno Girls, she didn’t realise how lonely she was. She still likes being alone, but as the end of spring term approaches, she finds herself not minding the volleyball team much. Except —
“Boke, did you lose the locker room keys again?!”
“Do you always have to be this harsh? I had to stay up for three tests today so I just forgot! Bakageyama!”
Hinata's complaints are shrill, and she’s staring at Kageyama like it's another contest. She’s always so easily provoked, and her fringe is splitting and bound to get in the way of seeing during a game, Kageyama is about to tell her as it is...
“Fighting already? I admire your energy, young’uns.” Sugawara-san walks right past them and shakes the spare keys in her hands once. “Don’t worry, problem solved.”
“Suga-san!” Hinata rushes to the silver-haired senpai to give her a bow. “Thank you for saving the day!”
"Just call me Suga, remember?" Sugawara-san smiles at Kageyama also and waves her over to help set-up.
Before practice starts, something in the memory of Hinata’s reddened face snags her attention. A glint in Hinata’s eyes — was Hinata going to cry? Did she make Hinata cry?
It’s not the first time she made someone cry, and usually Kageyama just waits until the other person realises they are wrong, but —
But then a volleyball is squarely sent to her face by no other than Hinata, and they are off yelling to each other again to the beats of volleyballs bouncing on their arms and above the nets.
People think it’s unusual for girls to be this competitive. Well, they are wrong, and there is something about Hinata that ticks Kageyama off. Hinata, who has instinct, speed and agility, a jump like none Kageyama has seen, but is just, all-round dumb....
Kageyama remembers those watery brown eyes and tries to ignore the weight in her chest. Maybe if she apologises, the feeling will go away. (It has been three days. Hinata probably won’t remember after the weekend.)
On Monday, after Mathematics, she overhears a conversation between the girls sitting next to her.
“— then I plopped my head on his shoulder, and the angle was perfect! My heart was jumping so fast!” Yamamoto’s squeals are grating, and Kageyama rolls her eyes before she can help it.
“Ah, sorry, it must be hard to find a boy like that for you because of your height, Kageyama-san.”
There is an unmissable snigger in the retort. Kageyama doesn’t care for passive-aggressiveness, so she shrugs.
“What are you talking about?” A familiar voice chirps, as Hinata springs into view and settles down with a paper bag in hand. Oh, that’s —
“Buns.” Kageyama snatches it away and oddly meets no resistance. She looks up to find the chibi’s cheeks flushed again, this time turned away from Kageyama.
“I haven’t noticed before, but that is true, I think.” Suzuki muses, which sets Hinata bouncing off her seat to the girls’ giggles, bumbling about being late.
“What did you say was true?”
“That Kageyama-san is Hinata’s height difference match!”
Hinata is already gone, and the bells are ringing.
"That's ... stupid." Kageyama manages, before she leaves for her next class.
They don’t know anything about Hinata. They don't know anything about herself.
Kageyama and Hinata only talk about volleyball, anime, food, and school sometimes.
No...
There was one night when they were buzzing from post-practice high and hot meat buns, Hinata asked Kageyama if she thought Manager Shimizu is handsome. Kageyama said "no" almost too quickly, and then changed it to a “maybe”.
"Do you?"
"Huh?"
"Think Shimizu-san is handsome."
"I guess?" Hinata tilted her head, seemingly in thought, and then piped up in her overdramatic ways, "But he's scary!"
"You're easily scared."
"You don’t think he’s scary because you’re even scarier!"
Hinata squints with her nose crunched up.
"Don't try to be cute, you'll wrinkle before you turn 20."
"I wasn't! Also that's really mean!"
Summer rolls around. On the bus ride from Miyagi to Tokyo, Hinata falls asleep on her left shoulder. Or has she? She is not drooling.
She looks like she's comfortable, so Kageyama doesn’t probe.
Before sunset, Hinata’s unruly curls are lit up like fire in the car window reflection. Kageyama gently pulls the blinds to close as far as she can without moving one half of her body.
“Hi-na-ta.”
She thinks about the apology dried up in her throat, about grabbing Hinata before she turns, about leaning her head on Hinata’s.
For neck support.
It might wake Hinata, so Kageyama stays still. (She is also a coward.)
What Kageyama doesn’t expect at Nekoma is a “welcome dinner” with the girls and boys’ volleyball teams before training begins.
“Chance, chance!” Noya-san, the organiser, is hyping it up as they get off the bus. “You can talk volleyball, flirt and eat, it’s the perfect combo!”
The third-years lead them in good humour to the restaurant. The food is alright, the boys are generally tall, but the only thing Kageyama remembers from that dinner is that Nekoma's setter on the boys’ team, Kozume Kenma, is barely taller than Hinata, and calls her Shou-chan before desserts.
Very irrationally, Kageyama thinks about her height advantage, of all things.
The training camp changed their game. They have to train harder than ever through the winter for the spring tournament. It is too soon; they can't lose. Apparently the stress makes Asahi-san want to pull her hair out.
(“Well, you can give me some of your volume...” Tanaka-san creeps up to her and tugs at Asahi’s hairbun, which earns her a playful smack from Noya-san.)
The pressure to win sets them on edge more than usual. The stakes are higher now, and Hinata is overreaching like the idiot she is.
“I can do it! Let me do it!”
Hinata is crowding Kageyama’s space, and Kageyama is too worked up to really hear what Hinata is saying. She shoves Hinata hard and fires back.
“You need to do what you can to score! That’s all you should care about!”
Hinata pauses with wide eyes and a clenched jaw. Kageyama thinks she's finally getting through Hinata's thick skull, but then, without a word, Hinata bolts into the dark.
Kageyama grits her teeth and follows without hearing what Daichi-san has to say. They will do 100 laps later, but where is Hinata?
Hinata. Hinata. Hinata.
Goddamnit. She is too fast. Did she even take a jacket?
Under the streetlights and stars too dim, beside the empty bike rack, Kageyama can only hear her own lagged heartbeat, and all of a sudden she is lost and alone again.
(When she returns, her senpais leave her be; even Tsukishima manages to not say a word about her sniffles. She blames it on the cold air and wonders if she should feel ashamed or relieved.)
At the next practice, they turn up punctually and separately.
Kageyama tries her best to not look, but observing Hinata is by now a habit. It's honestly part of Kageyama's job, okay? And if Hinata wouldn’t talk to her, at least Kageyama can look, right?
Hinata looks spirited and eager to play, wearing a slim green hairband which pulls her fringe back. It’s ... different. Her eyes are puffy and it shows.
Because it’s the right thing to do, the right thing for the team, Kageyama walks over and drops the line she has rehearsed privately.
“You should practice with Suga-san. I will practice on my own.”
If you squeeze your eyes, the pain is over in a blink, like a needle jab.
Two weeks later, in the changing room, Suga-san approaches her with her usual charm. “Kageyama, how was your setter practice?”
“Passable.” She hit 5 out of 10 bottles, which shows progress, but it’s not good enough. The weather is warming up, and they are running out of time.
“I’m sure you’ve been more productive than you let on! Do you think it might be helpful if you practice with Hinata again, so you can sync up?”
“No, it would be a waste of time.” Kageyama shakes her head and bows belatedly. “Sorry, Suga-san. I don’t mean to be rude.”
In the corner, Tsukishima is wiping her glasses as she chimes in uninvited. “You should go talk to Shrimp-head. The tension is very distracting.”
“That’s none of your bu—“
“Juniors!” Suga-san holds both hands up, pacifying, and then turns to Kageyama with a carefully neutral tone.
“She was talking to Daichi a minute ago in the stadium.”
The white-hot ceiling lights shine behind Hinata in the doorway, so Kageyama can’t see her face clearly, which is for the better, really. Kageyama calls from the middle of the paved walkway outside the stadium.
“Hinata! Can you... walk with me?”
When Hinata comes over, she looks unusually apprehensive, and Kageyama doesn’t like it.
“Sorry,” Kageyama let out, and sees Hinata's expression soften into a pout.
Maybe she’s still processing.... Kageyama tries not to be discouraged and continues while she leads Hinata to the exit.
“I thought about what you said, and I’m practising something new so we can make it happen.”
“Really?” Hinata is finally looking at her with a brightness in her eyes, and Kageyama can’t deny how the sight of Hinata lightening up makes her breathe easier.
“Yes, why else do you think I’m practising separately?” Kageyama can’t help but scowl.
“You never told me, Bakageyama!” Hinata huffs and then lowers her head. “I thought you, didn’t want to play with me...”
“That’s not it,” Kageyama mumbles, “It was weird for me too...”
Hinata doesn’t say anything after that, and soon they reach the bike rack. The feeling of tightness resurfaces in Kageyama’s chest, but this time Hinata is right here.
Just when Kageyama is going to say goodnight and hopes things would go back to normal, Hinata spins around to face Kageyama with a sober expression, and splutters all over the place.
“Listen, I want to do this not because I want to outshine the team! I want to be good enough for... us, so we can go to...” Jesus, Hinata is a sobbing mess now. “nationals... so I'm good enough for... to compete with you!”
“Hinata...” Kageyama is quite helpless, “I know. Don’t cry.”
How do I stop it?
Faster than her next thought, Kageyama reaches for Hinata, fingertips pausing in front of Hinata’s fringe, and then slowly brushes it aside.
I think I'm shaking.
Hinata grabs Kageyama’s hand as it falls without looking, and Kageyama feels a heat radiating from Hinata’s surprising grip.
“Then, do you also know,“ Although her head is still low, Hinata’s voice is regaining steadiness as she speaks slower, phrase by phrase.
“I like fighting with you, but I don’t like fighting with you. I don’t like you, but I also...”
Hinata looks up now, round eyes glimmering with tears and resolve. Kageyama realises her hand is still burning in Hinata’s, and she hasn’t been able to say a thing, because she's a coward but Hinata is not, Hinata will always be stupid and too fast and drive her crazy and make her heart twist worse than a stomach ache —
“Like you. I like you too.”
Kageyama swipes at the wetness on Hinata’s cheek futilely. She tries to extricate her hand from Hinata’s so she could tug the sleeves of her jersey down and use them, but Hinata grips harder and starts.
“Bakageyama! I was going to say it!”
“Well, I said it first! Boke.”
“... Can you say it again?”
“Boke.”
“No, the part before!”
“Hinata boke, I like you.”
Kageyama has no use for tall boys or wide shoulders. Hinata can jump as high as the sun, and she makes Kageyama stand even taller when they're together. And Hinata —
“You are my height difference match.” Kageyama muses, as Hinata is tightly tucked into her arms, bubbling with joy.