to avenge the sun (haikyuu)

brittle strength

Fujiwara felt like a kid on Christmas.

The biting cold warmed by wooly socks and hot chocolate; the anticipation of unwrapping gifts and of traditional movie marathons. The fairy lights draped along with the dark arched windows and the crackling of firewood. Each breath in and out has a lingering taste of cinnamon and the prior feast of meat.

He had arrived last night very aware that Hinata was in a flat below him. He barely introduced himself before unpacking and settling in his room. The proximity after many years was an odd mixture of nostalgia and need, almost bringing him to unsolicited tears. He wanted to see him. Desired to hear the pained gasps and feel the warmth of his blood that flows unrestrained. All caused by his own hand.

Yes, there is very little doubt that he does miss him. The tick tock-ing from the clock thrumming along with his anticipation that was deprived and unfulfilled for many years.

Fujiwara did not sleep well that night.

He awoke with a racing heart; excitement pulsing through his veins. As he gracefully made his way down to the dining hall, his eyes analyzed every inch of the area. Searching for his neatly tied yet preciously fragile present.

He found him surrounded by his friends and his supposed other teammates. Kageyama was asleep, his other friends were chatting enthusiastically but quietly around him. And in the very next second, Hinata had turned around and caught his eye. Pink lips forming an 'o' and his eyes startled with recognition. Fujiwara's own palms were forming sweat as he cherished every fraction of his reaction. He then saw the creases of his forehead and the anger in his fists. He took a few more steps down to reach the ground and saw his body tremble. Hinata's entire aura was screaming to run.

It was the emotion of utter fear.

And all Fujiwara did was made his presence known.

There was no need for thought as he approached his table. Hinata's eyes and mouth widened with further disbelief. A hand gravitated towards the arm of his blonde friend sitting beside him. It was grabbed in a painful grip; his veins protruded, enraged and afraid.

"Hinata?" His friend murmured, confusion laced in his tone.

When he reached their table, he cheerfully introduced himself. He saw Hinata startle, perhaps his voice took him down a certain memory lane. One that he most probably tried to avoid with all his strength. The out-of-body experience as his friends introduced themselves in an easy-going manner. Yet his whole world was suddenly flipped and torn apart right at that very moment. Fujiwara briefly wondered how that must feel.

There was a sudden scramble for balance as Hinata stood up too quickly from his beanbag. His breaths came in short pants. His blonde friend, who he now knew as Atsumu, frowned at him.

"You're not gonna have breakfast? Bokkun's buying us food right now."

"I..." he wildly searched for something to say, but it seemed as though his mind was failing to form sentences, "I need to..."

"What is it?" Atsumu's hand found Hinata's, which was slightly trembling, "you good? You look like you've seen a ghost or somethin'."

Hinata's gaping mouth closed and he shook his head, finally looking at Fujiwara who was stood nearby. Watching him. Taking in every bit of his movements, emotions, thoughts.

He averted his gaze before mumbling, "I don't feel good. I have to go, sorry."

He ripped his hand away from Atsumu's firm grip and he turned around to run away.

"Hinata?" Fujiwara called out. He saw him flinch. "Hope you feel better soon."

He tensely nodded once without looking back before quickly making his way back to his flat. Atsumu looked like he wanted to follow him, but was holding back to give him space. Kageyama was now finally awake from the commotion and he dazedly watched Hinata's retreating figure.