hai-choo

[hai-choo]

Youth

Hinata’s body was on fire. His knees were aching from the constant strain put on it. Beside him was Kageyama who was running at an equally fast pace; behind him, the other members. If Hinata were to describe the situation, he would explain it with one word, exhilarating. Their screams muffling the police sirens behind them, running down the street without a care in the world. It wasn’t until several swerves and turns into unknown alleyways did they lose the cops.

A quick “we lost the shitheads” from one of the officers and the revving up of the car engines made them all give out sighs of relief. They locked eyes with each other, catching their breaths. As if on cue, everyone burst out laughing. “So, are we going home?” Ennoshita asked, but seeing the fire behind their eyes told him not to pursue with his question. A rhetorical question, really. A comfortable silence then fell over them, and there they were, just basking in each other’s presence. It was Tanaka who broke the silence with the shaking of his green spray can, “the night’s still young,” he winked. Surely, everyone was soon shaking their spray cans and leaving their marks on every wall they see.

It was at that moment that nothing else mattered to them anymore, not the fact that they would soon part and go their own ways, or the fact that the next cops which find them may not be as dumb as the ones before (which was mentioned by Tsukishima, followed by a “Tsuki!” from Yamaguchi). They were a group of boys who shared the same love and that was all that mattered.