never again

"I'm afraid that you won't be able to play volleyball, or any other sport, again,"

With those words, Hinata's world fell apart before him. Volleyball meant the world to him; it was like losing a part of himself. He choked back tears as Kageyama stared open mouthed at the doctor.

"Isn't there something you can do?! Anything?" Kageyama exclaimed, frantic. After all, it was all his fault, not that Hinata blamed him. Hinata would never blame him, he was too kind.

"I'm afraid not," she answered, motioning for them to leave. Hinata stumbled out on his crutches, leaning against Kageyama, tears covering his face.

"And it's all my fault," Kageyama muttered, before moving to comfort the orange haired boy.

"Hey, hey, it's gonna be okay, don't worry, I won't play either, if we suffer we suffer together, eh?" he smiled, trying to improve the situation, even though he knew that there was no way Hinata would agree to those circumstances.

"Kageyama."

"It's my fault anyway,"

"No, no," he sniffles, "you're going to play, for me." The taller boy nodded to appease Hinata, as the pair exited the hospital.

"I'll do whatever you need," he replied, helping the shorter boy walk down the street.

Hinata was rushed home, and did not leave for about three weeks. He refused to leave the house, to go to school, to even face Kageyama. Kageyama, however, called the former night and day, relentlessly trying to get back in touch with him.

Finally, one bleak Saturday morning, he picked up.

"Yeah, what do you want?" Hinata answered, much harsher than he would've usually answered. He was always gentle when it came to Kageyama.

"Are you insane? Do you know how much you made me, along with the team, worry?!" Kageyama responded, failing to hide the worry from his voice. Hinata had known Kageyama long enough to realize when he was upset beyond comparison, even though he hid it extremely well.

"Who the hell do you think you are? What gives you the right to disappear and push us away?! " Kageyama's voice cracked, and neither spoke for what seemed like an eternity.

"I miss you," he muttered, the pain evident in his voice, "if you still care about me, come to the park in twenty minutes. I know you're upset about volleyball, but these past few weeks have been hell without you,"

Kageyama hung up before he would get a response. He was being cruel, he knew, but he hadn't felt pain like this before. He didn't even understand it himself; Hinata was a pain in the ass.

Quickly tidying himself, Kageyama left the house, anxious as hell. He wondered whether Hinata would even come; after all, he didn't seem to care much about him.

He made his way to the bus stop, anxious to meet his teammate. Boarding the bus, he tapped away on his phone, informing Suga that he had gotten ahold of Hinata.

It all happened too fast.

The alarms were blaring.

The people were yelling.

And Kageyama lost everything that was ever dear to him.

The bus had crashed into a small boy crossing the street. A mess of blood and guts were scattered across the road, the victim bleeding profusely. He wore a small backpack, and a grey hoodie. It could've been anyone.

It could've been, if not for the bright orange hair.

It could've been, if not for his gentle face, his kind smile, and his beautiful eyes.