The Setter's Help

"I Know."

"Kageyama!" A loud shout could be heard from outside the storage room where Kageyama had been sitting for the past two hours. Suddenly the blank white wall had the memories of his happenings with you covering it. Every time he looked back at himself, the emotion he saw behind his face said everything he wanted to. "You're really pretty today", "do you want to hang out?", "You're amazing at volleyball", "I like you".

"Kageyama!"

The yelling had become clearer, he regarded. His eardrums pick up the sounds of his name, although his eyes still never peeled from the partition. Only when the collar of his shirt was pulled and tugged on and his body being lifted off the chair did he look away, his brain finally responding to its messages.

"You're such an asshole! Do you know what you did to her? She hasn't stopped crying! She liked you! And you messed this up! How could you? What did she do to you?!"

It seemed as if Hinata has snapped, Kageyama notes. It's not that he didn't care, but the energy that he had in his body to keep fighting and defending himself had almost drained out.

I know, I know, I know.

All he could do was listen, silently scream at how he hurt you, how he damaged your self-esteem, and tore your view of yourself. He knew you looked up to him as both a mentor and a person, and he knew that you wanted to be just like him in terms of volleyball. The event that had occurred just about three hours ago had carved into his brain and embedded itself there, resulting in a headache that he thought he deserved. As his friend throws him around with his fist, his head wobbling and his teeth gritting at the reality of it all, he groans.

"She was good for you!" I know. "She just wanted your help!" I know. "Why did you mess it up?!"

"I don't know!"

Hinata's eyes widen dramatically when he heard Kageyama's voice bleed through the air, his arm loosening a bit and lowering Kageyama's figure down towards the chair. He looked distressed, Hinata noticed. It was obvious he was arguing with himself, his breath shaking as his chest heaves, his hands balled up into fists yet not having the energy to put them up and use them. His furrowed, frustrated eyebrows that guide his angry eyes when he stares at the floor, too ashamed to look up towards the man counting on him the most. It may have been the humid room, but his eyes felt hot, wet. His head felt sore, tired. But what could he do now, instead of just laying there in guilt and shame, constantly thinking about the way you grew scared of him once he stood up to you, or when you were sobbing and shaking into Kiyoko's chest as she held you close.

Silence overcame the room; a dark, frozen occurrence in time that was only interrupted by a couple of sniffles as Kageyama tries to pick himself up. He brushed himself off as he stood straight up, a shadow overcasting the top half of his face when his hair sways in front.

"You better fix this," Hinata mumbles. "Even I can see she's too good for you."

"Yeah. I know."

~.~.~.~

Giving you time was one of the hardest things he's ever had to do. Watching you walk past him in the hallways and avoid looking at him during class. Every time he tried to stop you in the hallway to talk or say your name to grasp just a sliver of your attention, you do the opposite. You never looked at him once. A concentrated, determined look on your face as you stare at the piece of paper beneath you, your fingers fidgeting with the pen you hold.

The cap resides on your lips while you write down a new formula. His eyes carefully trail the way your mouth wraps around the lid, focused pupils darting to the different details your lips display, them blowing out when you move them, your hand slipping the cap out from your lips. He let his mind get distracted for a little bit while he thinks about how soft your lips would be against his.