Prologue: "See You Again"

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It has been 2 months since Hinata had come to Brazil to continue training for volleyball. Everyone was so surprised and didn’t understand how Hinata could just drop everything, to go play beach volleyball. He was deemed “crazy” in the eyes of Tsukishima but he always called him crazy. The only person who seemed less than surprised was Kageyama. When the Karasuno team questioned Kageyama if he already knew he said, “No, it just seems like something that boke would do.” The conversation ended there.

When Hinata first started out he had learned the following:
Beach volleyball was hard.
Learning a new language was just as hard.
He gets sunburned easily.

After some grueling months, Hinata can confidently say in terms of beach volleyball, he was below average. Which to him was a great step than being stuck at rock bottom looking like a fool. He also made friends with Pedro (his roommate) and some others.

One day after practice, Hianat found his roommate playing around with a video camera.

Hinata’s POV:
“What are you doing with a video camera Pedro?”, I asked stupidly after I realized what he was going to respond. “Playing with it, duh”, he looked back at me before playing more with the camera. I sigh because I know I should be used to his attitude by now but I’m not. Thankfully he continues and says, “I’m thinking about making videos, you know, like your friend Kenma. Though I don’t think I know what to record, between the two of us, your life is crazier than mine.” I nod in response though he doesn't notice so I respond with, “crazy is fun, maybe if you become as crazy as me you’ll know what to do”, grinning maniacally. Pedro shakes his head and puts the camera down on the countertop. “Heitor invited us to dinner with his girlfriend at 7om so we should start getting ready,”says Pedro as he walks towards his room. I turn to the clock in the living room and see that it's already 6:15pm. I hurry over to get changed in loose sleeveless dark green dress shirt and black shorts, paired with checkered vans. As I get out of the room, I notice that so does Pedro. We both just silently stare at each other, checking eachother out. Nod and then make our way out the door.
    We made it to Heitor’s place, with Pedro teaching me some Portuguese words along the way to fill the open silence. Dinner was pleasant with some laughing and light conversations about volleyball. The Heitor suddenly says, “Oh I forgot to mention it in our practice but Shoyo you have such an EXCELLENT voice”. He laughs straight after as if he has witnessed the most funniest thing in the world. I blank. When did Heitor hear ME sing before? Nice Rodrigues (Heitor’s girlfriend) and Pedro look confused. Heitor ends his laughing fit and fishes out his phone. “You guys HAVE GOT to hear this!!”, he yells dramatically and swipes open his phone to open the recording. We all leaned in towards Heitor to see what's on his phone and like he said, there was a recording of me singing my bathroom song. As the recording kept playing, the blush in my cheeks spread all over my face. My face turned to the color of my hair from embarrassment. Laughs can be heard from everyone, but I’m laughing out of embarrassment.
Oh God, I sound horrible!!
Rodrigues turns to look at me, wiping tears from her eye, to ask, “where’d you learn to sing like that Shoyo?” I tried to answer her as calmly as I could, “I didn’t learn from anywhere. I just started singing in highschool and never stopped.” As I finished I kept finding the flooring so interesting. Hmmm, the wood flooring looks nice, I wonder if the trees know their friend’s body is being stepped on everyday. “Guess some habits never change after highschool. Do you miss it?”, Heitor asked as his high of laughter subsided,  finally. “Yeah, I miss it. I miss them. My team. The enemies I made. The promises I still keep. We still talk but it's not the same. The skype calls seem to end more quickly as time passes and I don’t seem to find it myself to want the call to continue. Even if lots of time passes, I know things will pick up when I go back because that’s just how it is. Our lives don’t intertwine anymore like they did in highschool when we were all in the volleyball club. We each got jobs, aspirations, and I haven’t gotten stronger either so might as well go back with a bang. Am I right?”, I slowly reminisced about the weekly calls Yachi makes us all join to keep us connected. The random messages in the otherwise deserted group chats.  As I finish my little jog to memory park I notice how Heitor, Rodrigues, and Pedro are looking at me wide eyed. “What?”, I say because they looked like I had grown another head??!!
“You sounded so smart and mature just now and I don’t believe it”, says Pedro. Wow. Just wow. “Are you saying I don't always sound smart and mature????”, I exclaim, raising my voice. “Yes. That is EXACTLY what he’s saying and I agree”, Heitor chimes in with his girlfriend nodding in agreement. Rude. All of them. I slide down my chair, pouting. We fall into a deep silence until Rodrigues says she wants to have a singing competition. I blame Heitor for that one. We all grimace, but then Rodrigues glares at all of us and we all “excitedly” agree to it. She is one scary woman. “Who starts first?”, I ask and after those words slipped from my mouth I knew I had it coming. “Since you ask, you go!”, Rodrigues says. I close my eyes and mentally prepare for the laughing fit that will come after my performance. “You have a keyboard right?”, I ask since if I’m going to sing I might as well put everything I got into it! “Yeah it’s in the living room though”, she says and we all stand up to follow her.
“Okay, let’s start this”, I say after I breathe in and out. “WAIT!”, shouts Pedro before I can even start. “Do you want me to sing or not?”, I question sassily. “Who are you dedicating your song to???”, Pedro says dismissing my sass. “I don’t know, does that matter?”, I ask with a puzzling expression. Shouldn’t I just sing and get this over it? Why do I have to dedicate anything to anyone? It’s just a friendly singing competition. Pedro just glares at me and suddenly I’m Jared, 19. In this case I don’t know how to read facial expressions. “Ummm, I dedicate this song to the guys waiting for me back home….yeah!”, I answer and finally start singing.

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