#ttoshrhr ch 7

[pearlsephoni]

The Trial of Shoyo Hinata’s Rising Heartrate, Evidence Four: The Trim

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: G

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Kagehina (Kageyama/Hinata)

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, brief appearances from Coach Ukai and Daichi

Word Count: 1,773

Summary: A close call at practice becomes a source of confused embarrassment for Hinata.

A/N: Inspired by this very sweet, very good fanart by @fauxmeeks. Further author’s notes can be read on AO3.

It wasn’t that Shoyo had ever doubted Karasuno would make it through the first Spring Interhigh qualifying rounds. He’d known they would win. But that still didn’t lessen the thrill of victory. 

And that especially didn’t lessen his excitement over facing Aoba Johsai again. With every passing practice, the new freak quick was becoming more reliable, and the thought of using it to get around the very block that had lost them the last tournament made Shoyo’s palm itch with anticipation. 

He could see that anticipation mirrored in Kageyama. He saw it in Kageyama’s eyes whenever their gazes met, saw it in the way he ran across the court, the way his fingers curved around the ball before a set. He could see it in the entire team, but his eyes always sought Kageyama’s, searching for the distinct glint that told him, “Now.” 

Not that he could let his duties as middle blocker lag behind either. He didn’t know what kind of practice Tsukishima was getting with his brother’s team, but the blonde beanpole had started playing like he actually wanted to be on the court. On the days that Shoyo was a little too focused on refining the freak quick, Tsukishima could actually give him a run for his money when it came to blocking. 

It was unnerving, but also a little thrilling. And Shoyo would never turn away from a really good competition. Tsukishima was suddenly playing with a burst of motivation? Fine. Shoyo would fight just as hard. 

The thing was, volleyball went so far beyond just what they did on the court. There were drills, strength building exercises, eating the right food, getting somewhat passable grades, stretching and warming up and cooling down, and taking care of his nails. He did his best to keep up with it all. 

But sometimes things slipped through the cracks. And he didn’t notice until it was a little too late. 

It happened near the end of August, during a 3-on-3 practice match. On one side were him, Kageyama, and Sawamura. On the other were Suga, Azumane, and Tsukishima. The entire match, Tsukishima had been tracking the quick with freakish accuracy, and even though Shoyo had been able to dodge his blocks, he still felt the burn of competition lighting a fire under his feet. He felt like he was seeing everything a little clearer, his eyes tracking the ball from Suga’s dig, to Tsukishima’s messy set, to Azumane springing into the air. 

There. 

Shoyo’s hands managed to touch the ball, and he opened his mouth to shout, “One touch!” 

But what left him instead was a surprised yelp. When the ball bounced off his hand, he suddenly felt a sharp stinging pain in the side of his middle finger, as though someone had nicked him with a tiny blade. 

To his dismay, he heard Sawamura call out, “Wait, time out!” 

“I’m okay!” Shoyo tried to reassure him. 

“It didn’t sound like you’re okay,” Sawamura hummed with furrowed brows. He moved towards Shoyo, but Kageyama beat him there, blue eyes looking dangerously stormy. 

“What’s the deal?” 

“Nothing!” Shoyo glared back up at Kageyama. “Just…my finger hurt suddenly.” He squinted at his hand, but all he could see was a line of raised red skin on his middle finger. “I’m not even bleeding, I’m fine. Wait- hey!” 

Before Shoyo could even look up, Kageyama was grabbing his hand and pulling it up peer at his fingers. “The hell? Who cuts your nails?” 

It took Shoyo a beat to respond, his attention narrowed in on the feeling of Kageyama’s calloused fingers handling his own. “U-um…I do.” 

“Of course you do,” Kageyama sniffed. “You ever seen a nail file, dumbass?” 

“Yeah!” The effect of his indignant voice was ruined by the way his cheeks heated up at Kageyama’s disbelieving frown. “…Maybe.” 

“Doesn’t look like you have. Look at how sharp the edges of your nails are.” He pushed the offending fingers into Shoyo’s face. “I dunno how you haven’t cut yourself before.” 

The embarrassment that was bubbling up in him clashed with his confusing happiness over Kageyama’s fingers wrapped around his own, making a cocktail of emotions that felt dangerously like anger. “It’s not my fault I don’t—”

“Hey, lovebirds.” Their heads whipped around to see Coach Ukai watching them with a bemused smile. “Can we continue the practice? Is everything ok, Hinata?” 

It wasn’t the first time he’d called them that nickname, but it was the first time it made Shoyo’s cheeks feel like they could catch fire. “M’fine,” he mumbled, tugging his hand out of Kageyama’s. “Sorry, Coach.” 

“It’s alright, just be careful.” 

It was a weird, embarrassing moment, but as soon as Azumane served the ball, all of Shoyo’s embarrassment was forgotten. They had a match to win. 

He didn’t get hurt again for the rest of practice, though he did get stopped by Coach Ukai before he could leave for the club room. “Can I see where you got hurt?” 

“Yes, sir. But you can’t really see it now.” Shoyo still presented the offending finger, and Ukai peered at it before nodding. 

“Alright, I’m glad it wasn’t serious. Kageyama’s right, though. I know you don’t want to hear that, but it is important to keep your nails smooth. It’s already easy enough to get hurt in this sport without you creating more chances for that to happen.” 

Just like that, Shoyo remembered the feeling of Kageyama’s fingers around his own, handling them with a gentleness that belied his grumpy nagging. Shoyo’s cheeks warmed with…anger? Was it anger? Anger was the only response to a big jerk nagging at him that made sense, right?

“Hinata?” He was startled out of his thoughts by Ukai, who once again looked both amused and confused. “You ok?” 

“Yeah! I’m fine!” 

“Alright…well, go get changed and go home, get some rest. Good work today.” 

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” 

The warmth in his cheeks faded as he jogged to the clubroom and got ready to go home…only for it to return when Kageyama suddenly nudged him. “Oi.” 

“What?” 

“Sit.” 

Shoyo blinked at him. “Huh?” 

“Sit down.” Kageyama plopped down onto the clubroom floor, as if he wanted to provide an example. 

“Why?” 

“Quit asking questions and just listen to me!” 

Shoyo scowled, but obeyed, mirroring Kageyama’s cross-legged position. “Why’re you being so weird?” 

Kageyama glared in the middle of digging through his bag. “I’m not being weird! I’m trying to help!” He tugged out a small pencil case with Vabo-chan printed on it and unzipped it, before holding his hand out. “Gimme your hand.” 

“...You’re not gonna cut it off or something, are you?” 

“I will if you keep being stupid.” 

That was hardly reassuring, but Shoyo still placed his hand in Kageyama’s. The setter tugged Shoyo’s hand closer and pulled out a nail file from the Vabo-chan case. And then, while Shoyo watched in disbelief, Kageyama isolated one of his fingers and began carefully filing away the jagged edges of his nail. “You…wanted to do my nails?” 

“Someone’s gotta do it when you’re doing such a shitty job.” It was almost funny, how much the harsh words clashed with the gentle way Kageyama worked. Shoyo didn’t know he was capable of handling anything as gently as he handled his fingers. It was like Kageyama thought he was made out of glass, like he was a fragile thing that needed to be handled with the utmost care. 

At any other time, from any other person, Shoyo would’ve been insulted by the idea. But now he could only sit there and watch as Kageyama worked, his dark fringe hanging over his eyes and his ears slowly turning a bright red that matched how hot Shoyo’s cheeks felt. 

Shoyo Hinata wasn’t a shy person, and he wasn’t easily embarrassed. He wouldn’t have stuck with volleyball if he were. 

He wasn’t very good with words, either. So he sat there, with burning cheeks and a feeling like electricity skating through his body from where his fingers met Kageyama’s, and felt utterly confused over the emotions bubbling up in him. It wasn’t just happiness, and it wasn’t just embarrassment, either. He wanted to both hide away from Kageyama and never leave this moment, wanted to pull away and wanted to weave their fingers together. His heart felt like it could pound out of his chest, and if he tried to speak, his throat felt sealed together from how dry it was. 

So he didn’t speak. He just sat there, mutely watching Kageyama work, only managing to speak up when some of the team began trickling out of the clubroom with shouted “Bye!”s. 

He didn’t know how long it took for Kageyama to do all his nails. It felt like it could have lasted five seconds or five years, he couldn’t say. Eventually Kageyama brushed away the dust with his thumb and nodded in satisfaction, his lips pressed thin around a secret smile. “Alright. M’done.” 

“Oh. Thanks.” For his flustered shyness, Shoyo felt a little reluctant to pull away, but Kageyama settled it by gently dropping his hand into his lap. 

“I’m not gonna do it again, dumbass. You better learn to file your own nails, or you’re gonna keep scratching yourself.” 

“So mean, Kageyama-kun.” 

Blue eyes flashed up to meet his, only to soften at the wide smile that stretched across his face. “...Whatever. Let’s go.” With that, Kageyama packed away his Vabo-chan case and pushed himself to his feet, swinging his bag across his body. “This took way longer than I thought it would.” 

“I didn’t ask you to,” Shoyo grumbled. 

“I’m not gonna let you get hurt when we have to beat Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa.” 

“I’m not gonna be taken out by a scratch!” 

“You don’t know that!” 

Shoyo’s cheeks couldn’t seem to cool down, not during the trim, and not during their walk from the school. He couldn’t help it. Kageyama just seemed to keep saying things that made the blood rush to his face, even though everything he said was as stupid as usual. 

The weirder thing was that Kageyama’s ears had stayed red from the moment he’d pulled out his nail file to the moment they parted ways on their way home. The whole thing had just been…weird. Shoyo couldn’t think of a better word for it, and he couldn’t figure the whole thing out. 

Still…as he replayed the feeling of Kageyama’s fingers holding onto his, Shoyo felt a smile push at his red cheeks. It was weird, yeah. But it was also nice. Really nice. 

Maybe he was turning a little weird, too.