At the Spring High Volleyball finals, Karasuno High falls to Inarizaki in a full-set battle. Hinata Shoyo suffers a torn ligament in his knee, and the doctor tells him he may never jump again.
When Hinata is discharged from the hospital, Kageyama Tobio is there to meet him. "Without you, no one can hit my tosses," Kageyama murmurs, embracing Hinata. From that day on, Kageyama visits Hinata's house every day to support his rehabilitation. Hinata notices Kageyama's abnormal attachment but cannot
Haikyu!! Court of Afterimages - The sky I can jump through -- I belong to myself
Tokyo in December had a dry chill to its air.
In the waiting room of Yoyogi National Gymnasium No. 1, Hinata Shouyou sat alone. The second hand of the clock on the wall sounded unnaturally loud. The room smelled of disinfectant, with just a faint trace of sweat mixed in. The white fluorescent lights shone down on the polished floor.
Shouyou tightened the black brace wrapped around his knee. His fingertips were trembling slightly.
(I'm okay.)
He whispered it in his mind.
Every time he told himself he was okay, that man's face surfaced. Jet-black hair. Ultramarine eyes. Kageyama Tobio, massaging Shouyou's knee with trembling fingers.
Seven months since he'd left the hospital.
He had walked out of Kageyama's house on his own two feet. He had shaken off Kageyama's hand. He had declared Kageyama's love to be domination. And yet, every time he touched his knee like this, the feel of those fingers came back. That had been, without a doubt, love.
Shouyou picked up the volleyball shoes sitting on the floor.
White and black, familiar shoes. The ones he'd worn every day until seven months ago. The shoes Kageyama had retied one last time. Shouyou slowly undid the laces with his own fingers.
"...These are my feet."
He said it out loud, to make sure.
They belonged to no one else. They were his feet.
He retied the laces tight. The bow came out a little crooked. That was fine. He had tied it himself.
The waiting room door opened without a knock.
"Yo, Hinata-chan."
Shouyou turned to find Oikawa Tooru standing there. He swept back his light brown hair, his honey-colored eyes narrowing. He wore a university tracksuit, a towel draped around his neck.
"Oikawa-san."
Shouyou set the shoes down on the floor.
"Nervous?"
Oikawa leaned against the wall, his tone casual.
"...A little."
"Honest, aren't you."
Oikawa laughed. That smile was as warm and disarming as ever. But Shouyou understood. Behind this man's smile, there was always calculation — and always loneliness.
"Medically speaking, this is a miracle. Coming back this far seven months after a ligament tear."
Oikawa looked at Shouyou's knee.
"But it's not a miracle."
His tone dropped slightly.
"It's your seven months. Every day, facing the pain, on the verge of tears, and still you kept standing on the court. I just lent a hand along the way."
Shouyou looked at Oikawa's face.
Oikawa's eyes were straight. The usual flippant smile was gone.
"Oikawa-san."
Shouyou stood up.
"Thank you. But I won't become anyone's weapon."
Shouyou's voice didn't waver.
"I jump for myself. Not for you, not for Kageyama. I jump because I want to jump."
Oikawa said nothing.
His honey-colored eyes watched Shouyou steadily.
Then he gave a soft laugh.
"...I know."
Oikawa gave Shouyou's shoulder a light pat.
"It's not like I only wanted to use you."
Oikawa's voice was a little hoarse.
"Watching that face of yours — that 'I want to jump' face — it reminded me that I used to love volleyball, too."
That was Oikawa's honest truth.
Hearing Oikawa's real feelings for the first time, Shouyou couldn't find any words.
"Come on, let's go. The tryout's about to start, right?"
Oikawa turned his back.
"Oikawa-san."
Shouyou called after him.
"You find your own volleyball, too."
Oikawa didn't turn around.
"...Cheeky brat."
He muttered it under his breath and left the waiting room.
---
Yoyogi National Gymnasium No. 1.
The ten-thousand-seat stands were about half full. The hopes and nerves of high schoolers gathered from across the country dissolved into the air. The wooden court floor was polished to a shine, reflecting the lights from the ceiling.
Shouyou stood at the edge of the court.
His uniform was plain white. No number on his back yet.
(So this is Yoyogi.)
Shouyou looked up at the ceiling.
The place where volleyball matches were held during the 1964 Olympics. Players chosen from all over Japan had jumped on this court.
(I'm going to jump here, too.)
There was no pain in his knee.
Under the brace, the ligament was properly connected.
"First set, begin!"
The referee's whistle split the silence.
Shouyou stepped onto the court.
The first toss came from a setter he didn't know.
"Hinata!"
His name was called.
Shouyou broke into a run.
An irregular approach. Right foot, left foot, and — jump.
He kicked off the floor. His knee extended. His body lifted.
No pain.
His field of vision rose. The white line of the net passed beneath his eyes.
Peak reach: three hundred twenty centimeters.
Shouyou's right arm caught the ball.
Smack!
The spike drove into the opponent's court.
"...!"
Shouyou landed on the floor.
His knee absorbed the impact solidly. No pain.
(I jumped.)
Shouyou looked at his own knee.
(I jumped.)
Tears welled up.
Seven months. It had been long. It hurt, it was agonizing, and he'd come close to giving up more times than he could count. He had rejected Kageyama's hand. He had borrowed Oikawa's. He had been saved by Tsukishima's words.
All of it had been for this one moment.
In the stands, on the second floor.
Kageyama Tobio was gripping the railing.
His fingers were shaking.
Hinata had jumped. That orange hair had danced into the air above the court.
"...So you can jump without my toss."
Kageyama forced the words out.
His ultramarine eyes wavered.
(I wasn't the one who made him jump.)
(He jumped on his own.)
Deep in Kageyama's chest, something crumbled with a sound.
It was his desire for control.
You're the only one who can make him jump. That was what he'd believed. That Hinata's leaps existed only because of his tosses. He had been certain of it.
But he'd been wrong.
Hinata Shouyou belonged to no one. From the very beginning, he had been born to jump — alone.
"...Damn it."
Kageyama pressed his forehead against the railing.
His eyes burned.
(I tried to lock you away.)
(I tried to break your wings.)
Kageyama gripped the railing until his fingers went white.
"...Even so."
Kageyama raised his head.
"I'll keep chasing you."
His voice reached no one.
---
On the first floor, a little ways from the court.
Tsukishima Kei stood with his back against the wall.
His blond-brown hair swayed softly in the air-conditioning. Behind his glasses, amber eyes watched the court.
Hinata jumped.
Three hundred twenty centimeters.
"...What a monster."
Tsukishima murmured.
I was the first one to see through that jump.
That it was monstrous.
But now, it was different.
Not a monster. Hinata Shouyou was just a person who loved volleyball, who wanted to jump, who hurt and cried and still came back to the court.
"...I wanted to be beside him."
Tsukishima quietly admitted it.
This was love.
Not wanting to protect him. Not wanting to possess him. Just wanting to be beside him. When he laughed, when he cried, when he jumped — to breathe the same air at his side.
But that wouldn't come true.
Hinata Shouyou wasn't beside anyone.
He jumped into the sky alone.
"...And that's fine."
Tsukishima smiled with only his mouth.
---
The match continued.
Shouyou jumped again and again.
He hit tosses from other setters. Sometimes he received. He flew for blocks, too.
His knee never once cried out.
Oikawa's method of using his core. The way he swung his arm. A new way of jumping that distributed the load across his whole body.
(This is my jump.)
Shouyou was certain.
Even without Kageyama's toss, he could jump.
But even so.
(Kageyama's toss was the best.)
Shouyou thought it, deep in his heart.
That toss that rose up even with his eyes closed. Only Kageyama could set that.
(Thank you, Kageyama.)
Shouyou whispered it in his mind.
---
The match ended.
Wiping off sweat, Shouyou left the court.
The corridor was crowded with players. Cheers and cries of frustration echoed from every direction.
"Hinata."
He was called to a stop.
He turned to find Kageyama Tobio standing there.
Wearing a black coat, his ultramarine eyes looking straight at Shouyou.
"...Kageyama."
Shouyou stopped in his tracks.
A current of people flowed between them.
"You came."
"Yeah."
Kageyama answered shortly.
"I saw you jump."
Kageyama's voice was low and quiet.
"...How was it?"
Shouyou smiled, just a little.
"It was the best."
Kageyama said it.
At those words, Shouyou's chest grew hot.
"Kageyama."
Shouyou took a step closer to Kageyama.
"Thank you. Because of your toss, I was able to want to jump."
Shouyou looked into Kageyama's eyes.
"But."
Shouyou drew a breath.
"I don't belong to you."
The words reached Kageyama clearly.
Kageyama said nothing.
His ultramarine eyes wavered faintly.
Then, Kageyama smiled.
It was a smile Shouyou had never seen before.
The color of domination was gone. Jealousy, possessiveness, all of it had melted away.
It was just a quiet, gentle smile.
"Yeah, I know."
Kageyama's voice trembled, just slightly.
"So I'll keep chasing you."
Tears welled in Kageyama's eyes.
Seeing those tears, Shouyou felt like crying too.
"You can chase me all you want."
Shouyou smiled.
"But I can't promise you'll catch up."
"Bring it on."
Kageyama smiled without wiping his tears.
"I'll get faster, just to chase you."
"And I'll jump higher."
The two of them stood gazing at each other for a while.
Then Kageyama turned his back first.
"...See you on the court."
"Yeah. See you on the court."
Kageyama disappeared into the crowd.
Shouyou watched his retreating figure until it was out of sight.
---
Outside the gymnasium, it was dusk.
The December sky darkens early. The western sky was stained orange, with deep indigo spreading above it.
The wind was cold.
Shouyou turned up the collar of his jacket.
"You passed the tryout."
A voice spoke.
He turned to find Tsukishima Kei leaning against the wall.
His blond-brown hair swayed in the evening breeze. Behind his glasses, amber eyes watched Shouyou.
"Tsukishima."
Shouyou stood beside him.
"You were watching."
"Obviously."
Tsukishima looked up at the sky.
"You jumped."
"Yeah."
Shouyou smiled.
"I jumped. Three hundred twenty centimeters."
"...Bragging, are we."
Tsukishima said it with exasperation.
"I'm bragging."
Shouyou looked at Tsukishima.
"Tsukishima."
Shouyou's voice turned serious.
"Back then, when you said you wanted to be beside me — thank you."
Tsukishima looked away, just slightly.
"...That's old news now."
"I know it's late, but I wanted to say it."
Shouyou gazed at Tsukishima's profile.
"Your words saved me so many times. Even when I was locked in Kageyama's house, it was because of your note that I didn't give up."
Tsukishima was silent.
"You're still not going to give me an answer?"
Tsukishima said it quietly.
Shouyou looked down.
"...Sorry."
Shouyou bit his lip.
"Right now, it's just volleyball. I can't think about anything else."
"...I see."
Tsukishima's voice was flat.
"But."
Shouyou raised his head.
"Being beside you feels warm. That's what I think."
Shouyou looked straight into Tsukishima's eyes.
"That's the truth."
Tsukishima watched Shouyou for a while.
Then, faintly, his lips loosened.
"...I see."
Tsukishima said only that, and started walking.
"Let's head back. It's cold."
"Yeah."
Shouyou walked beside Tsukishima.
Knowing he would never be rewarded, Tsukishima still walked beside Shouyou.
That was Tsukishima's love.
---
The Hinata house.
Steam rose warm from the dinner table that night.
His mother, Misaki, set a bowl of miso soup in front of Shouyou. His little sister, Natsumi, was staring intently at the TV news.
"Big brother."
Natsumi turned around.
"Look at the news."
The TV showed footage of Yoyogi National Gymnasium No. 1.
"In today's All-Japan Youth tryout, Hinata Shouyou, a participant from Miyagi Prefecture, displayed astonishing jumping ability and has been selected as a candidate for the national team."
The announcer's voice echoed through the room.
On the screen, Shouyo
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