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The walk home from Karasuno felt lighter than Hinata expected. The sun dipped low, painting the sky in soft streaks of orange and purple.
His legs ached from practice, a pleasant sort of tired, and his forearms still stung from Kageyama's serves—a quiet badge of pride.
He'd done it.
Shocked them all without overplaying his hand.
The old him would've been bouncing off the walls, shouting every detail, but now? He just smiled, letting the day settle over him like a well-earned victory.
He pushed open the front door, the familiar creak greeting him.
"I'm home!" he called, kicking off his shoes.
The smell of simmering curry drifted from the kitchen, rich and comforting.
Natsu's voice rang out before he could even drop his bag.
"Shoyo! You're late! Did you get lost or something?" She peeked around the corner, her orange hair a wild tangle and her grin pure mischief.
"Nah," he said, ruffling her head as he walked by.
"Just a long first day."
Their mom turned from the stove, wiping her hands on a towel. "Oh, good—you're back. How was it? Did you make the team?" Her voice was warm and steady, the same way she'd always asked about his games—back then and, apparently, now.
Hinata flopped into a chair at the table, stretching his arms above his head.
"Yeah. Made it. No problem." He kept his tone casual, but Natsu was already sliding into the seat across from him, eyes narrowed with curiosity.
"Spill it! What happened? Did you jump super high? Did you spike stuff? Did anyone cry?"
He chuckled—softer now, more grounded than before. "It was cool. Met the team, did some drills. The captain's this guy Daichi—really solid. And there's Sugawara-senpai, super chill. Then there's Tanaka-senpai. Loud, but awesome."
He hesitated. Should he mention Kageyama? Nah. Natsu didn't need the drama yet.
"Oh, and I received this crazy serve. Everyone kind of freaked out."
Natsu's mouth fell open. "You? Received something? Like, didn't just eat the floor?"
"Hey!" He flicked a crumb at her, grinning. "I'm not that bad."
Their mom set a steaming plate of curry in front of him, laughing under her breath.
"Sounds like you impressed them, Shoyo. I'm proud of you." She sat down too, smile soft.
"You've been working so hard—I worried you'd burn out before school even started."
Hinata took a bite, the warmth of the food settling deep.
"Nah, I'm good. Just… I really want to do this right."
And he meant it. This wasn't just about making the team. It was about rebuilding—step by step, from the ground up.
Natsu kept badgering him for more: what the gym looked like, who was the tallest, whether he jumped higher than anyone else.
He gave in, tossing in bits about Tanaka's chaotic energy and Sugawara's calm vibes.
Their mom mostly listened, nodding quietly, the corners of her mouth turned up.
It felt like any other night—simple, warm, the kind of normal he'd missed during his whirlwind pro life.
By the time dinner was done, he was full, relaxed, and ready to crash.
"Night, Mom. Night, squirt," he said, ducking away from Natsu's swat as he headed upstairs.
In bed, he stared at the ceiling, that one perfect receive replaying in his head.
Kageyama's stunned expression stayed with him.
"Round one's mine," he muttered, grinning into the dark.
Tomorrow, he'd build on it.
---
The next day dawned clear and bright. Hinata was back at Karasuno's gym by afternoon, dressed down in his practice gear.
The space buzzed with energy, balls thudding, voices echoing. As he stepped in, Tanaka's voice rang out.
"Yo, Hinata!"
He grinned and jogged over to the huddle where Daichi stood, hands on his hips, surveying the court like a general.
Today was a new day—but Hinata was ready for it.
"Alright, listen up," Daichi called out, his voice cutting clean through the echo of bouncing balls and scattered conversation.
"We've got two more first years joining today. They'll be here soon, so let's stay sharp. Practice match is on day after tomorrow—I want everyone on the same page."
Hinata nodded, leaning casually against the wall beside Sugawara, who gave him a quick grin.
"More fresh blood, huh? You ready to show off again?"
"Maybe," Hinata replied, smirking. He kept his tone light, but internally, he was already tallying names.
He knew who was coming—Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. The snarky skyscraper and his ever-loyal shadow.
Things were about to get interesting.
Right on cue, the gym doors creaked open. Two figures stepped in, their silhouettes framed by the late afternoon light.
Tsukishima Kei entered first—tall, blonde, glasses glinting, his face set in a permanent state of disinterest.
Right behind him was Yamaguchi Tadashi, clutching his bag tightly, shoulders slightly hunched, freckles standing out against his pale skin.
Hinata straightened instinctively. He wasn't the shrimp he used to be—almost 170cm now—but next to Tsukishima, he still felt small.
Not that it mattered. He'd grown in more ways than one.
Daichi stepped forward, hands on hips. "These are Tsukishima Kei and Yamaguchi Tadashi. First years, like Hinata and Kageyama. Introduce yourselves."
Kageyama gave a stiff grunt, arms crossed. Hinata offered a relaxed wave. "Hinata Shoyo. Nice to meet you."
Tsukishima's eyes drifted between them, landing on Kageyama with a slow, smug smirk.
"Oh, look," he drawled, his voice laced with sarcasm.
"His Majesty, the King of the Court. Didn't expect to see you slumming it here." He adjusted his glasses with theatrical boredom.
Kageyama's jaw clenched, a vein twitching at his temple. "Shut up," he muttered, his glare sharp enough to cut steel.
Hinata nearly laughed. Some things never changed.
Tsukishima turned to Hinata next, eyes raking over him. "And you're the shorty, huh? What is this, a team of rejects?"
The words were barbed, but Hinata didn't bite. He'd heard worse from Tsukki—hell, he'd missed this weird rivalry.
At nearly 170cm, he wasn't that short anymore, but that didn't matter either. It was the attitude that counted.
"Guess so," he said, shrugging. "We'll see how it goes."
For a split second, Tsukishima's eyes narrowed—just a flicker of something thrown off.
Hinata caught it.
Good.
Let him wonder.
Yamaguchi stepped forward, bowing quickly. "Uh—I'm Yamaguchi Tadashi. Please take care of me." His voice was quiet, nervous, but sincere.
Hinata smiled. He'd always respected Yamaguchi's quiet persistence.
The guy didn't stand out much, but he had grit.
That mattered.
"Welcome," Daichi said. "Alright, intros are done. Warm up, then drills. Practice match is coming fast—be ready."
The team scattered. Tsukishima slouched toward a corner of the court, Yamaguchi right behind.
Kageyama stalked toward the net, still visibly fuming. Hinata grabbed a ball from the bin and began rolling it between his hands, grounding himself in the rhythm.
Tanaka appeared at his side, shaking his head with a grin. "That tall guy's got a mouth on him, huh? You didn't even flinch."
"Not worth it," Hinata said, smirking. "He'll figure it out eventually."
Tanaka blinked, then laughed, clapping him on the back. "Man, you're chill for a first year. I like it."
Drills began, and Hinata stayed focused—no showboating. He worked on clean passes with Sugawara, kept his timing sharp.
Kageyama threw precise sets with growing intensity, his irritation still simmering beneath the surface. Tsukishima's commentary never stopped—another "Your Majesty" thrown Kageyama's way.
He let it all roll off. He had nothing to prove to Tsukishima—not today.
The real proving ground was the court, and the match was coming.
Despite the tension, the team held together.
The senpais watched closely—Daichi calm and firm, Sugawara keeping things light, and Tanaka throwing out wild encouragement every few minutes.
Even Yamaguchi began to relax, moving more freely as the drills wore on.
As practice wound down, Daichi called everyone in again. "Good work today. Day after tomorrow, You've got a practice match. Rest up, come ready. We've got a lot to prove."
His gaze swept over the first years—Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi—lingering just a second longer.
He could feel it too. This wasn't just any group. There was a storm coming.
Hinata slung his bag over his shoulder, sweat cooling on his skin.
Tsukki was still Tsukki, Kageyama was burning with barely-contained rage, and Yamaguchi was starting to find his feet.
And him? He'd kept his cool. Played smart. Day two, done.
Tomorrow, they'd build.
The day after that?
They'd fly.
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To be continued…
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Let me know your thoughts any improvement and give ideas how this story should go and also do I need to include other people pov and thier own screentime,thier thoughts
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