You aren't so bad, Kageyama.
That was one of the first times Kageyama had received a genuine compliment. In the beginning he was often complimented on the accuracy and talent behind his tosses, but as time went on and he began craving victory more and more, the nice comments stopped entirely. His tosses were now considered wild, tosses that were unable to hit. He began ordering his teammates around, getting aggravated at any fault in their play. Move faster. Jump higher. So to hear someone say something nice - no, not even about his skill, but to say something nice about him, himself, It made him feel .. warm, welcomed.
"Kageyama? Kageyama!" The redhead shouted, waving his hand in front of the setter's face. "Earth to Kageyama! Are you dead?"
Kageyama growled in irritation, swatting his hand away. "Of course I'm not, dumbass Hinata!" He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and mumbled something, turning away. "Hurry up or we'll be late for class."
Hinata snickered, lifting two fingers to form a tiny salute. "Aye aye!" He picked up his bag, jogging up to join his setter's side.
Kageyama looked down at the smaller male, looking away quickly as they made eye contact. He swallowed nervously, feeling his face heating up. What was this feeling? And why won't it leave him alone?
sorry this chapter is so short aa