Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A blur of motion, Shoyo soared between the buildings, a shadow against the setting sun. His eyes scanned his surroundings, searching for the place that Yachi had told him about.

After another five endless minutes of swinging (which felt like hours to Shoyo) he finally came across the towering building.

Muffled wails for help and shrieks could be heard from the outside; Shoyo’s pulse quickened as he darted across the rooftop and dove toward the source. 

The building loomed in front of him, its windows glinting gold,yet all he could hear was the uneven rhythm of frantic cries echoing through the elevator shaft.

Without hesitation he slipped inside, the air thick with dust and the barely noticeable hum of failing machinery; his hands pressed against the cold steel of the doors, fingers straining in the narrow gap as the cries grew louder, sharper. 

Muscles tensed, back braced against the wall, he pulled with all the energy he could, metal rubbing against metal, until the opening widened.

There, crouched in the dim glow of a flickering fluorescent light, was a boy. His dark hair fell haphazardly over his forehead; his sharp blue eyes reflected both fear and defiance as he clung to a bent railing as if it was the only thing keeping him safe.

For a heartbeat Shoyo stilled, chest tightening as though the world itself had narrowed to that single figure. Then instinct propelled him forward; his hand shot into the gap, reaching, urging.

The boy’s hand grasped his rough skin pressing into his palm, grip strong and desperate all at once. Shoyo pulled with everything he had; the doors shuddered, the frame groaned, and at last the boy was wrenched free from the darkness of the elevator into the hollow corridor beyond.

For a fleeting moment their hands lingered, the echo of the connection sharp and electric.

BEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEP

Shoyo yelped, his eyes flew open, and he flailed out, knocking over his bedside table before landing in a heap on the floor with a comical groan. His head throbbed with exhaustion as he stared daggers into his raging alarm for interrupting his dream.

‘’Ughhhhh. Not again.’’

Shoyo had dreamed about him again. About the man that he had saved nearly a month ago. About the man who probably didn’t even remember Shoyo (or who he would have seen as Spiderman). About Kageyama Tobio. 

After letting out a heavy sigh, Shoyo hastily grabbed his alarm and chucked it across the room with all the strength he could manage. It landed with a loud bang onto his messy floor but continued to beep, earning a large groan from him.

After miraculously managing to gain enough energy to stand up, Shoyo shuffled to the kitchen in search of something to satisfy his growing hunger. Then after some careful consideration, Shoyo  landed on a day old onigiri.

Suddenly, beneath his outstretched hand, a head of ginger curls much like his own appeared beneath him.

‘’Oni-chan. Can you play with me? I got this new game an-’’

Just as Natsu was going to continue her rant about her new game, Shoyo’s stomach let out a loud, ferocious growl, leaving Natsu toppled over with laughter and Shoyo’s cheeks brushed with a faint blush from embarrassment. 

After snatching another onigiri to fulfil his evergrowing famishment, Shoyo quickly marched back to his room to start getting ready for the upcoming day. 

Right. He has to go to a brand-new school. 

Shoyo felt his unbridled excitement force the ongiri in his stomach to do somersaults. Even with the weight of his new Spider-Man duties, Shoyo was the kind of kid who always had energy to spare and had an unshakable optimism.

Okay I think this is it!!! 

After about 30 minutes of aimlessly wandering around the streets of Chiyoda (and stopping to stroke a stray cat and feed it half of his tuna onigiri), Shoyo had finally found his new school: Hibiya High School.

UWAHHHH ITS SO BIG! 

The hallway was a writhing mass of students, pushing and shoving to get to their lockers. Shoes squeaked and faint conversations continued unnoticed as Shoyo made his way through the crammed corridor in an attempt to find his class. 

After finding a teacher and practically begging for some help, Shoyo surprisingly found his class and put on the biggest tooth aching grin imaginable before walking in.

Bundles of students were piled around multiple desks chatting about whatever was on their minds and opened textbooks laid open abandoned on tables.

Shoyo smiled wholeheartedly at whoever would catch his eye and ambled to a vacant seat by the window and immediately began rambling to whoever would listen. Although he got some strange stares, Shoyo continued, eager to make some new friends and give off a positive first impression.

After getting to know his classmates a bit better, Shoyo rested his head on the rough surface of his desk and tried to close his eyes and rest to make up for his horrific quality of sleep but was swiftly interrupted by an abrupt bang since someone knocked over a bulky metal water bottle. 

In return Shoyo let out a quiet shriek and when he glanced over to see who was the culprit, his eyes widened.

Kageyama Tobio.

The same boy he had heroically saved from that broken elevator weeks ago. The same boy who had haunted his dreams ever since.

Shoyo had spent hours afterward, curiosity gnawing at him until he eventually caved and scoured social media. It hadn’t been hard. Kageyama’s name had slipped from the panicked voices of his teammates waiting outside the elevator, and from there, one quick search had sent him down a full blown internet deep dive.

Volleyball photos, tournament clips, even random posts about his favorite yogurt brand. Shoyo had devoured it all, piecing together who he was when he wasn’t frozen terrified.

And now he was here. In the same classroom.

The boy straightened up stiffly, muttering something under his breath as he set the water bottle upright again. His sharp blue eyes flicked around the room in irritation, but not once did they linger on Shoyo (thankfully)

Shoyo’s heart thumped in his chest so hard he was sure the whole class could hear it.

No way. No way no way no way. Out of every school and class in Tokyo, he’s here?!

It felt like his entire body had short-circuited. His legs wobbled under the desk, his palms grew clammy, and his mind scrambled between panic and disbelief. 

He doesn’t know. He can’t know. Right?

Before Shoyo could sink any lower into his seat, the teacher clapped her hands at the front.

“Everyone, quiet down! Looks like we’ve got a new student.” She gave Shoyo an encouraging smile before gesturing for him to come to the front of the classroom. “Hinata, why don’t you introduce yourself to the class?”

Shoyo shot upright so fast his chair screeched against the floor, drawing more laughter than he wanted. His face burned red as he shuffled to the front.

“Uh, I’m Hinata Shoyo! I just transferred here, nice to meet you all!” he blurted out in one breath, bowing so low he nearly slammed his forehead into the chalkboard. A few students snickered, but Shoyo didn’t dare look at them. He didn’t dare look at him. Not yet.

Still, from the corner of his eye, he swore he felt it. The slightest brush of Kageyama Tobio’s gaze. His fists curled tight at his sides, palms damp from sweat. He told himself it didn’t matter, that Kageyama didn’t know, couldn’t know. But the truth pressed in on him all the same, sharp and undeniable.

This year was going to be anything but normal.

Chapter Text

Shoyo slowly walked back to his seat, his face flushed vermillion with embarrassment.

His legs felt like noodles and his face was still on fire. He avoided every possible eye in the room and dropped into his chair with a breathy, cursed little ‘’oomph’’ sound that definitely didn’t help with not bringing attention to himself. His desk wobbled under his elbow as he slouched against it, one hand dragging down his face and the other clutching his pencil so hard his knuckles turned a chalky white. 

He wanted to die. Or turn invisible. Or get bitten by another spider. He’d settle for any at this point.

Behind him, he could feel it again; that weird weight. The presence. Kageyama Tobio. Sitting somewhere directly in the back-right quadrant of the classroom. Shoyo didn’t dare look over, not even a single glance. What if he was looking? What if he wasn’t?

Either way, it was ruining his entire existence.

He buried his face deep in his arms, not even bothering to pretend to pay any attention to whatever his teacher was going on about.

Great job, Shoyo. Awesome first impression. Now the whole class knows you’re short, sweaty, and possibly ill. UGH. 

The teacher kept talking about something; class rules, supplies, upcoming welcome events. He heard none of it. Someone passed him a stack of papers. He took it without looking up, leaving a faint smudge of forehead sweat on the syllabus.

He peeked sideways, just a little. The kids next to him were already whispering to each other and giggling about something. 

By the time the lunch bell rang, Shoyo had half a headache and no idea what his homeroom teacher’s name was.

Chairs scraped. The room exploded into motion: zippers, wrappers, sandals squeaking on tile. People started forming little groups and clusters, like magnets snapping together. The low buzz of conversation crackled in the background. Everyone had somewhere to go, someone to sit with. 

Clutching his lunchbox, Shoyo made his way toward a group of guys crowded around a phone near the windows. They were laughing at something; probably a game. He smiled, hovered. Tried desperately to catch anyone’s eyes.

None came. Okay. Cool. That’s fine. I didn’t even want to be friends with them anyway.

He spun the other way on the ball of his foot, almost walking into a pair of girls mid-selfie in the process. Shoyo quickly squeaked out a mumbled apology and gave a slight bow, then bailed toward the hallway like a man fleeing from a fire.

He pushed through the side doors, into the bright sun. Sunlight hastily flooded his view, and Shoyo blinked against it, letting the light settle on his face. The heat hit him first. Then the smell of grass, and cafeteria curry, and faint soccer whistles in the distance. He took a deep breath and stretched his arms overhead dramatically.

Shoyo wondered aimlessly while thoughtlessly munching on the rest of his tuna onigiri.

Stupid cat. Why did it have to be so cute. I should have saved the rest of my onigiri, I'm so hungry I’m literally going to die. RAHHHHH.

The field stretched out in front of him, empty except for a pudding haired boy sitting guardedly under the shade provided by a bulky tree planted at the edge of the field, its shadow soft and shifting.

The kid was curled forward, hunched like a cat, thumbs twitching over something in his lap. A hoodie draped over his frame like armour, the sleeves tugged down low, almost hiding the small console cradled in his hands. Shoyo narrowed his eyes in the hope of getting a better look.

Woah, is that a 3DS? I didn’t even know people still use those things…

The quiet, repetitive click click click of buttons carried on the breeze. On the screen, flashes of colour flickered, a courtroom, a flustered witness, a speech bubble mid-appearance.

No way. Was that Ace Attorney?! 

Shoyo took a slow step forward. Then another. He took a few small steps closer, curiosity already causing his hunger to be momentarily forgotten and replaced by a giddy sort of recognition.

“Wait, is that Turnabout Goodbyes?” Shoyo blurted before he could stop himself.

The boy flinched slightly, like he’d forgotten the world existed. His eyes were wide and brown, half-hidden behind curtain-like blond bangs. Up close, he looked even smaller than he had from a distance. 

His expression was unreadable; not annoyed, not surprised, just blank in a way that made Shoyo feel suddenly very out of place.

“Sorry,” Shoyo added quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to ambush you or anything. I just… Polly! The parrot. I love that one. Me and my sister played it through a couple of months ago. It was awesome!” 

A beat passed. The boy’s fingers paused over the buttons, thumbs still hovering, like he wasn’t sure whether to keep playing or prepare for flight.

Then, without looking at Shoyo directly, he murmured so soft the wind nearly swallowed it:

“Polly’s in the third trial.” 

Shoyo’s whole face lit up with joy. “Right?! The parrot’s a witness. That part’s insane.”

The boy gave the faintest nod, eyes flicking back to his screen. The clicking resumed, but slower now, like he was only half-focused. Or maybe...listening.

Shoyo hovered awkwardly at the edge of the shade, one foot half-planted, the other shifting in the grass. He didn’t want to push. He also didn’t want to walk away. The silence wasn’t awkward, exactly, but it hovered between them like fog.

For a second, the only sound was the quiet hum of insects and the soft digital blip of the 3DS. Then, after what felt like the longest minute in history, the boy tilted his head slightly and said, just barely audible:

“You can sit. If you want.”

Shoyo blinked, stunned like he’d just won an important award. The branches above creaked faintly as he stood there frozen.

“Oh. Uh–yeah. Cool. Thanks.”

He dropped down onto the grass before the offer could disappear. The ground was warm and scratchy against his palms, the shade a thin patchwork of leaf-flickered shadow and sun. His knees pulled up automatically as he settled, the lunchbox cradled awkwardly in his lap. 

Contemplating whether to make dispensable small talk, Shoyo glanced sideways, just for a second and observing what the other boy was doing, then looked away before it could count.

Say something, his brain hissed. Anything.

“So… what’s your name?” he blurted, way too fast. The words came out in a tangle, like they were tripping over each other to escape.

Kenma didn’t look up right away. His thumbs paused mid-tap. Then one hand dropped to his lap, the other absently rubbing at the cuff of his sleeve.

“Kenma,” he said, voice soft, like it wasn’t used to being heard.

“Kenma…” Shoyo echoed, testing it out. He liked the shape of it. Quiet name. Fit him. “You got a first name?”

Kenma’s eyes flicked up just for a second, then back down.

“That is my first name,” he said gently. “My last name’s Kozume.” 

The corners of Shoyo’s mouth twitched, trying to decide whether to smile or apologise.

“Right. Duh. Sorry. I’m… bad at names. And stuff.”

Shoyo let the words hang there, half-laughing under his breath like maybe if he sounded casual enough, they wouldn’t count as weird. Kenma didn’t answer. The faint clicking of buttons and tapping of the stylus against the pixelated display resumed, a somewhat steady rhythm in the silence between them.

“I’m Shoyo, by the way,” he added, glancing over. “Hinata Shoyo.”

A breeze drifted by, tugging at his hair and ruffling the edge of his shirt. The grass itched a little beneath his legs, but he didn’t dare move.

“I saw you in class,” Kenma said, eyes still fixated on the screen. “You were…interesting.”

Shoyo groaned dramatically, collapsing halfway over his already-finished lunchbox. “Ugh, I knew it. I was trying so hard to be normal.”

“That was you trying?”

Shoyo peeked over his arm. Kenma hadn’t smiled, not really, but there was a faint glint of something in his eyes.

“Okay, wow,” Shoyo muttered, sitting back up and fighting the smile that was tugging at his mouth. 

The wind picked up for a moment, rustling the leaves above them. Shoyo watched as a tiny sliver of sunlight flickered across Kenma’s hair before vanishing again.

They lapsed into silence again, but this one felt easier, softer around the edges. Shoyo sat with his knees pulled up, watching Kenma’s screen in flickers, trying not to make it obvious how much more relaxed he felt now.

The lunch bell hadn’t rung yet. And for the first time that day, he wasn’t in any rush to hear it.

Shoyo slung his bag over one shoulder and stepped out into the afternoon sun, his body suddenly gaining a new warmth from the rays.

PE was next. Now, usually, Shoyo would be absolutely ecstatic, he was a living ball of energy, of course he loves PE.

But it was different now; new people, new classes. He let out a heavy sigh and dragged is feet across the pavement as he started his descent towards the gym building.

His uniform clung to his back with sweat that wasn’t even from exercise, just nerves and the late-summer heat. The sun pressed down on his back like a crushing press. The air smelled like sunbaked concrete, melted rubber, and maybe someone’s spilled juice box.

He fiddled with the strap of his bag as he walked, shifting it from shoulder to shoulder like that would somehow make everything more comfortable.

Although worries crowded his thoughts, the bounce in his step started to return.

I hope we do volleyball today, he thought, heart already picking up. That would be so cool.

His brain spiralled faster than his legs. Because the ball always goes like FWAHHHH and then the setter gets under it, and boom, perfect toss, and the spikers in the air and then bam!!! 

He grinned to himself, barely resisting the urge to mimic a spike in the middle of the path.

Maybe it won’t be weird. Maybe it’ll actually be fun. Maybe– 

He turned the corner past the vending machines—

And he froze instantly.

Like someone had yanked the emergency brake on his entire body.

Kageyama Tobio stood less than ten feet away, framed by sunlight and the faded metal face of an ancient vending machine, staring down at the drink options with a determined expression on his face.

Shoyo’s brain instantly short-circuited.

WHY IS HE EVERYWHEREEE???????