TRAGEDY | Shouyou Hinata (Murder of Crows) ✓

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sawamura Daichi did not believe Hinata could go as far as hurting Koushi.

The captain was fond of the redhead. He had grown to respect him in the short time he'd been a part of the team, and seeing him decline into ruin was a difficult process to watch. He couldn't deny Hinata had changed. He had become much more distant, more difficult to read. He had closed himself off to the others, shut himself away, and it seemed the only one to which he'd given the keys to free himself was you. But that didn't mean he had turned into a monster.

And yet, there was still something. Something that didn't feel right, something that felt wrong when Daichi was around Hinata. It was like a bad taste in his mouth that he couldn't quite place. And after you had shared your own suspicions, Daichi knew he had to talk to him. He didn't suspect him of anything untoward . But there might be a clue, something, somewhere, that could shed a glimmer of light on what really happened to Daichi's best friend.

Sawamura's knuckles scraped three times against the door to Hinata's house, before he took a step back and waited with his feet braced firmly against the porch.

After a few minutes of waiting and receiving no answer, Daichi cut across the lawn of unruly brown grass and tangles of weeds, and peered through the front window. Squinting against the glare of sunlight refracting off the glass, everything inside was still. The sitting room was empty. But that wasn't all. Something about it seemed untouched - as if it hadn't been lived in for a while. The only thing that suggested otherwise was the vase of fresh flowers sitting on the sideboard. Orange tulips.

Sighing to himself, Daichi retreated from the window and scratched the back of his neck, where a sweat had broken out across his skin. Maybe Shouyou and his mother were out. He had already knocked and nobody had answered, so there wasn't much more he could do.

As he reached the gate on his way out, a strange little feeling tugged at his mind and he instinctively turned back around, his eyes already lifting to the top window.

A face was staring down at him.

Dark eyes met his, and Daichi felt his heart quicken a few beats in his chest, his breaths coming out ragged. Pushing aside his sudden unease, the captain lifted his hand and gestured for the boy to come downstairs. Hinata watched him motionlessly for a moment, then disappeared out of sight, leaving the window once again a dark, empty portrait. Taking it as a sign he was coming down, Daichi found himself waiting once again by the front door, his stomach swirling anxiously.

When the door finally opened, the house behind Hinata was doused in shadow, and nothing stirred. "Daichi-San," the boy said simply, barely lifting his eyes from the ground.

"Hinata-Kun," the captain replied, biting his tongue when his voice wavered slightly. It was difficult to keep his composure when the boy in front of him was so different, so unrecognisable. Daichi was struggling to convince himself that this was the same Hinata he knew, the same Hinata that could never hurt anyone. "Can I come in?"

Nodding silently, he stepped back and let Daichi through the door, ghosting him into the sitting room. There was a vague scent of tulips, but also something else, something damp and rotting.

"You're here to talk to me?"

"Yes," Daichi said shortly, turning to face Hinata so that he had his full attention. He kept his arms lowered at his sides, loose, but his fingers were curled into a light fist. "I just wanted to see how you were. I haven't had much chance to speak with you, one-on-one like this."

Hinata was unhesitating, firm. "I'm fine."

But Daichi knew those two words well. He'd used them often enough in the past few weeks to know that there wasn't an ounce of truth to them.