Chapter Text
In front of the dusty glass of a TV shop window, beneath a bright blue sky humming with cicadas and the quiet churn of town life, Hinata Shoyo stopped on his bike, frozen.
On the screen, a match replayed in brilliant colour—Karasuno's number ten launched himself into the air, a blur of orange and black. Flying high, like a crow. The ball snapped over the net like a bullet. The Little Giant.
Small, but fierce. Short, but unstoppable.
Hinata's chest thudded with something bright and breathless.
And in that moment, he didn't decide—he knew.
He would play volleyball.
No matter what. No one could stop him.
...Except maybe the fact that he had nowhere to play.
Hinata was, to put it bluntly, short. Not tiny, not child-sized—but short enough that when people glanced at him and heard the word "volleyball," they blinked. Or laughed "Volleyball? Really?"
But it didn't matter.
The Little Giant proved it was possible. If someone else had done it, then so could he.
He could already see it: charging across the court, soaring above the net, the echo of cheers in his ears. He couldn't wait to join a team. Practice. Improve. Win.
Yukigaoka Junior High, tucked into the hills of Miyagi, had no shortage of clubs. On his first day, Hinata stood in front of the school's faded bulletin board, the afternoon sun casting shadows over its peeling corners. The list of sports teams was typed in uneven ink, a few letters smudged from rain long ago.
Girls soccer. Boys soccer. Girls volleyball. Girls basketball. Boys basketball.
He stared.
...Where was boys' volleyball?
Hinata leaned closer, squinting. Blinked. Scanned the page again from top to bottom.
Still nothing.
A cold, sinking weight settled in his stomach.
No.
Maybe it was a mistake. A typo? Maybe the paper was outdated?
He bolted inside and flagged down a passing teacher. "Excuse me—sorry—but is there a boys' volleyball team?"
The teacher paused, offered him a sheepish smile that only made things worse. "Sorry, but there's no boys' volleyball team. It's more of an appreciation club now—some old posters and DVDs, that kind of thing. Not many boys are into it these days." He gave a casual shrug. "There is a girls team, though."
Hinata's ears went red. "N-no, it's fine. Thanks. Bye!"
He turned quickly and walked away, burning with frustration.
So. That was that.
He'd finally found something he truly wanted—and he couldn't have it.
Not here.
He could train alone. Or maybe transfer. Or try to find some outside team. But none of those were simple, especially when he hadn't even learned the basics yet.
So, when he got home that evening, he didn't touch the volleyball by the door. He didn't rewatch the Little Giant's clips. He just sat on the floor of his room, chin on his knees, moping in silence while the daylight faded.
The next day, while staring out the classroom window, his phone buzzed in his bag.
Mum:
Hey Shoyo, I know you just started the school year and all, but after school can you pick something up from someone's house in Sendai? I would go, but I'm busy at work today and Natsu is at a sleepover.
He stared at the screen for a moment.
Sendai, huh?
He had time. It wasn't like he had volleyball practice or anything.
That afternoon, he boarded a rattling train, the kind with green vinyl seats and open windows that let the wind whip through. The city rolled by outside—shrines nestled between shops, students in different uniforms biking past, the faint smell of takoyaki from somewhere nearby.
It was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant.
After a bit of wandering, he found the right apartment, collected a small plastic bag of Natsu's clothes from a friendly older lady, and started heading back toward the station.
Then he heard it.
A shout.
Laughter followed.
And then—
"You're such a freak, Tendou. I don't even know why you play volleyball if you're going to play like that."
"At least we get to slack off while you get scolded."
Hinata slowed, turning instinctively toward the sound.
Three boys stood near a low wire fence outside a tall, modern school building—white walls, broad glass windows, maroon trim on the jackets. Shiratorizawa, he realised. One of the powerhouse schools from Miyagi.
However it was only the junior high.
Two of the boys were walking away now, laughter still clinging to their shoulders like smug little clouds.
The third stayed behind.
Taller than the others. Red-haired. And... strange. There was something off about his posture, something half-wild in the way he watched the ground, hands shoved into his pockets like they were the only things keeping him anchored.
"Monster..."
"Guess freak..."
The insults drifted back through the air.
Hinata hesitated. His fingers curled tighter around the plastic bag in his hand.
That guy—he played volleyball?
Then...
Maybe—
Before he could second-guess himself, Hinata blurted, "Um—hi!"
The red-haired boy looked up sharply. One eyebrow raised.
"I—sorry—I overheard a little," Hinata stammered, stepping closer. "I was just wondering... do you play volleyball?"
The older boy tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "Hmm... what are you, in grade school?"
Hinata puffed up like a startled cat. "Hey! I'm in my first year of junior high!"
"So what if I play volleyball?" the boy asked flatly. "What's it to you?"
Hinata swallowed, then squared his shoulders. "I don't have anyone to play with."
There was a beat of silence. The wind rustled the leaves nearby.
"No team?"
"My school doesn't have one," Hinata admitted. "It's just me."
The boy stared at him. Then—shrugged.
"Fine. I'll play with you. I've got nothing better to do."
Hinata's eyes lit up. "Really?! Thanks! I'm Shoyo Hinata—and I want to be just like the Little Giant!"
The boy's lips curled into a crooked grin, half shadow and half teeth.
"Guess I'm Tendou Satori. Also known as the Guess Monster."
The two boys found themselves in a quiet park just a few blocks from the station. The grass was patchy in places, uneven, with dry dirt kicking up under their shoes. A single rusted goalpost stood nearby, tilted slightly like it had given up. Overhead, the sun cast a warm, golden light through the branches of the trees that lined the fence.
There weren't many people around—just the occasional dog walker or jogger cutting across the far path. It wasn't much, but to Hinata, it might as well have been a proper court.
He bounced on the balls of his feet, clutching the slightly scuffed volleyball Tendou had produced from his bag like it was sacred.
"So what now?" he asked, grinning. "Do we just, like, hit it back and forth?"
Tendou arched a brow. "That's called passing, newbie."
"I knew that!"
"Sure you did."
They started slow—bumping the ball between them, testing each other's reactions. Tendou had a lazy sort of grace to the way he moved, loose-limbed and fluid, like his joints had too much freedom. Hinata, in contrast, was all tension and energy, legs coiled like springs and eyes wide with concentration.
Tendou sent a spike sailing over the line.
It bounced off Hinata's face with a loud thwap.
"Ack—ow!" Hinata staggered back, hands flying to his cheek.
"You really suck at this, don't you?" Tendou said with a smirk, walking over with zero remorse.
"Hey! I only just started volleyball," Hinata protested, voice muffled through his fingers. "And like I said before, I don't have a team!"
"Fine, fine," Tendou drawled, stretching his arms behind his head. "Okay, how about I teach you?"
"Really?"
"No."
Hinata's shoulders slumped.
"Kidding. Kidding," Tendou said, waving a hand. "I will... if you give me something in return."
Hinata blinked, wary. "And what is that?"
Tendou leaned in, the glint in his eye not unlike a crow about to steal something shiny. "A snack. I want a snack. Something sweet. You look like the kind of guy who carries candy in his pockets."
"I do not!" Hinata's voice cracked in protest.
"Liar," Tendou accused, tapping him on the forehead. "I saw you chewing something earlier."
"That was one of my meatbuns!" Hinata huffed, checking his pockets like he needed to prove his innocence. "And I already ate them all!"
Tendou shrugged, completely unfazed. "Bring some tomorrow then. Deal?"
Hinata stared at him for a second, then nodded with all the solemnity of a knight making a pact. "Deal. But you better not slack off when teaching me!"
"Me? Slack off?" Tendou spun the volleyball on one finger with practiced ease. "Never. First lesson—let's see if you can guess where I'm going to hit this."
Hinata dropped into a crouch, feet spread, arms loose. He'd seen this on TV. "I can totally do this."
"We'll see, meatbun boy."
Tendou tossed the ball high, eyes flicking left—but at the last moment, his arm whipped right. The spike wasn't cruel, but it was fast—too fast. Hinata lunged, missed by a fraction. The ball hit the grass with a dull thud.
He groaned, flopping backward. "Okay, okay... maybe I do suck."
Tendou wandered over and ruffled his hair like he was petting a particularly scrappy puppy. "Hey, you'll get there. You've got guts at least."
Hinata looked up at him, the sky bright behind Tendou's head. His face was flushed, but his eyes burned with determination. "I'll learn. I'll get better. Just you wait."
For the first time, something softened in Tendou's expression. "Now that's the spirit," he said, passing the ball back to him. "Guess this might be fun after all."