Chapter Text
Ukai stepped out of his car and slammed the door. A puff of fog escaped his lips. The early morning air stung his cheeks and throat. It was two in the morning and he was at Karasuno’s gym, keys in hand. If someone were to ask him what he was doing, Ukai would explain that he might as well help Takeda with the extensive paperwork for their upcoming tournament, since he couldn't sleep anyways. Desperately pushing aside the reason extra paperwork was necessary, Ukai rationalized that it sounded like a perfectly innocent and reasonable explanation.
Deep down, he knew better.
Ukai wasn’t in any shape to work. He had barely slept in months. How could he? He was worried about the upperclassmen and managers, who were scared out of their minds and lost without their remarkable kouhai. And he couldn’t even begin to describe the fear that gripped him whenever he thought about the first-years.
It had been three months since all four of Karasuno Volleyball Club’s first-years had been reported missing, by Ukai of all people. As it was, he hadn’t even realized that not a single one of his first-years had stable parents. Hinata’s family was overseas. His only contact with them was through e-checks and video conferences once a week. Kageyama’s legal guardian was his sister, his grandfather having passed away a little over a year ago and his parents having passed away much earlier than that. His sister, a college girl consumed by school and parties, hadn’t been home in weeks. Tsukishima was an emancipated minor who roomed with Akiteru in the summer, when the young man was home from college. Yamaguchi was the worst. Despite his parents being in the house every day, they simply hadn’t noticed when their son disappeared off the face of the earth. If Ukai ever saw these kids again, he’d have to have a long chat with CSS about their home lives.
When. When Ukai saw them again.
(It was getting harder to keep the faith.)
The real reason Ukai was at Karasuno’s gym at two in the morning was sad, pathetic, and less than healthy. Ukai found comfort in reminding himself that the kids were doing similar things. He had caught Daichi pretending to talk to Tsukishima and Kageyama about teamwork. Sugawara kept starting conversations with Yamaguchi on the bench during practice matches. Noya and Tanaka had zealously planned heaps of shenanigans for when they got Hinata back, so animated that it felt like the little middle blocker was apart of the conversation.
No, there was nothing unusual about Ukai wanting to go to the gym to try and remember what it was like when the first-years were practicing on the court. He shoved his hands in his pockets and directed a few derogatory comments at the cold weather as he walked from the street to the gymnasium.
He noticed the sounds first. Balls ricocheting off of polished wood, suede slapping against skin, rubber soles squeaking against the ground… Maybe this was unhealthy, if Ukai wanted to remember them so bad that he was hallucinating.
But then he registered the door to the gymnasium. It was cracked open just an inch. The lights were still off. Ukai frowned. What the hell was going on? He strode forward and very gently eased the door back enough to peek inside. It was dark, but he could still hear the volleyball move, feel the thundering footsteps–
A flash of orange streaked from left to right.
He could see Hinata Shouyou on the court.
Three months ago
The first tendrils of worry materialized at 6:48 on Monday morning when Daichi arrived to unlock the gym and Hinata and Kageyama weren’t already arguing with each other on the lawn. Daichi frowned and tried the door. Maybe they were already inside? But the handle was fixed in place, locked. His frown deepened as he inserted the key and turned. Daichi noted with a hint of disappointment that the lights were off, and there wasn’t a single stray volleyball on the floor.
Still, he shrugged it off. Even if the rambunctious first-years were always fifteen minutes early, he supposed it was normal for them to be “late” every once in a while. Oversleeping, being unable to find homework sheets, doubling back for a forgotten lunch––these things happened to everyone, Hinata and Kageyama not exempt. And if either one of the boys were delayed in any way, the other would surely wait for him so that they could still race to the gym. Daichi was sure they would be here in a few minutes.
At 6:51, Sugawara stepped into the gym, face bright. Daichi couldn’t help but to grin as he clapped Sugawara over the shoulder and pulled him into a hug. His best friend’s presence was like a breath of fresh air.
“I missed you over the weekend. It’s not very often we don’t see each other on any given day day.”
Sugawara returned the hug, deft fingers splayed over Daichi’s shoulder blades. He rested his cheek on the taller boy’s shoulder and breathed deeply. Daichi smelled of pine. “I missed you too, Dai.”
Sugawara waited for Daichi to pull away from the hug and then remained at his shoulder. His brows were knit after a quick glance around the gym. He looked up at Daichi
“Where are Hinata and Kageyama?” he asked, chin tilted to the side.
At the question, Daichi's stomach dropped. He couldn't explain why. Hinata and Kageyama were just running late, of course. But there was a pit in his stomach. There was no reason do believe anything was wrong, so why did he feel like there was? It was completely irrational.
It didn’t seem like Sugawara was immediately worried, and Daichi wanted to keep it that way. Once a seed of doubt was planted, he knew Sugawara would run away with it until he was paralyzed by anxiety. Especially when it concerned the safety of their first-years.
Shit. I’m already anxious.
Whatever expression crossed his face at that realization was more than enough to tip off Suga. Daichi counted the seconds that passed as Sugawara processed the fact that Daichi didn’t know where Hinata and Kageyama were. He turned his gaze back to the court, lips pressed in a thin line.
“I see.”
Daichi hummed and placed his hand on Suga’s arm placatingly. The cool spring air whistled through the open door.
“I’m sure we’re overreacting,” Daichi said quietly. “It’s not even a difference of ten minutes. Perhaps Kageyama overslept.”
Sugawara parted his lips, paused, and then closed his mouth with a click. Yeah, Daichi thought, Suga was definitely anxious.
Daichi pulled Sugawara into another quick hug before pushing him in the direction of the club room and folding his arms across his chest. “Go get ready and shoot Hinata and Kageyama a text. We’ll start making calls if they’re not here by seven.”
Suga pushed a smile onto his face and wandered away. “We don’t ever do this for Tanaka, you know!” he called over his shoulder.
Daichi cracked a smile and shouted back, “Because Tanaka’s a little punk!” The pure timbre of Sugawara’s laughter echoed in response as he disappeared into the club room.
-
The minutes until 7:00 counted down all too quickly. Every set of footsteps outside sent Daichi’s heart pounding with anticipating, lungs swelling as they approached the gym doors. At 6:54, Asahi and Nishinoya joined them. Noya was using Asahi’s body as a playground so that he could dramatically recount in full detail his and Tanaka’s shenanigans over the weekend. Daichi made a note to corner and interrogate them after practice, just to make sure they hadn’t caused any trouble. He would probably need Sugawara’s help.
Shimizu and Ennoshita arrived at 6:55. The team wouldn’t be seeing Yachi, Ukai, or Takeda until the after-school practice, as was typical during the school week. Kinoshita and Narita walked in at 6:56. At 6:58, everyone present intermittently peered at Daichi as they set up the gym. Everyone wanted to ask where Hinata and Kageyama were, but tension had crept in around Daichi and Sugawara, and no one was willing to vocalize it.
At 7:00, Daichi glanced at Sugawara to give him the go-ahead. The vice-captain fished his phone out of his pocket and swept into the clubroom to make calls. Daichi grimaced. It was just fifteen minutes. It was a morning practice after a long weekend. There was no reason for serious concern. Perhaps it was an overreaction to make calls so soon, but he had an undeniably bad feeling, and so did Suga. Judging by the anxiety hanging in the air, so did their teammates. He clapped his hands, though it was hardly necessary to gather his team’s attention. Though scattered across the gym with equipment and volleyballs in hand, every boy stopped what they were doing and looked up at Daichi expectantly.
“As you may have noticed, Hinata and Kageyama weren’t early for practice. Does anyone know where they might be?”
When no one came forward with a sure answer, Noya offered, “Shouyou said he and Kageyama were going to practice and watch horror movies on Saturday. That’s… That’s it, though.” Nishinoya suddenly was aware of the expectant pressure for answers that had been laser focused on him. Daichi empathized.
“Thank you, Nishinoya. That’s news to me. Anyone else?”
At 7:01, hurried footsteps slammed against the pavement outside. The intense attention in the room snapped over to the doors. Nishinoya’s mouth was already forming Shouyou’s name when Tanaka pulled himself through the doorway.
“TSUKKI!” Tanaka shouted. Daichi winced. It was still a little too early for that. Tanaka continued, “I have your– wait, where is Tsukishima? Where– Are all the first-years gone?” Tanaka pulled his hand into a fist, suddenly furious. “If they’re doing team bonding without us–!”
It took everyone else in the room several seconds to realize that it was true. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were gone, too. All four of their first-years were absent.
Relief washed over Daichi. If all four were missing, it was very likely they were with each other. Meanwhile, Sugawara squeaked behind him. Daichi spun around. His vice-captain was holding himself as if he were in a daze. His phone hung weakly from his hand and his brows furrowed in something like disappointment. “I didn’t even notice…”
Daichi rushed forward and gripped Sugawara’s shoulder, lowering himself just enough to put himself right in Suga’s line of sight. The teenagers behind him were crying out reassurances that he didn’t do anything wrong, but the setter continued to glare at the ground. As well-intentioned as it was, they needed to move their attentions away from Sugawara, who was clearly feeling a little bit overwhelmed just from the last ten minutes. Daichi thrust his hand out at the team. “Get started on warm-ups. Just because the first-years are ditching doesn’t mean you guys get to slack.”
Ennoshita took it from there, shouting instructions to finish set up and get started on exercises. Meanwhile, Daichi leaned in closer to Sugawara.
“Hey, are you okay?”
The silver-haired boy’s fists clenched.
“I was so distracted by Hinata and Kageyama that I–”
“Everyone was. No one but Tanaka realized, and that’s probably because he didn’t even know they weren’t here–”
“No, Dai.” Suga cut him off with a glare, though there was little heat to it. “It’s different for me. You know that.”
Daichi did know. Sugawara felt a special sense of responsibility to the team that even Daichi had trouble understanding, though that might have just been their personalities. Suga was so gentle and caring and attentive. His presence was overwhelmingly warm and sweet and he knew it, using it to provide comfort to anyone who needed it. Of course their youngest would trigger such a reaction in him.
Daichi sighed. “I do. You’re allowed to feel bad about it, even though it wasn’t your fault. But you understand that. Did you make any calls?”
Sugawara nodded, seeming more himself. “I tried Kuroo and Bokuto, since they seem most likely to kidnap them,” he said with a soft smile. Daichi had to restrain himself from pulling Sugawara into a third hug, purely from the wave of affection that rose with the little joke. “Neither have them,” Sugawara continued, “but I can think of several others. Seijoh and Date Ko for starters.”
Daichi nodded. “Good idea. Try Ukai, too. If you can’t find anything, come back out to practice, and we’ll just regroup in the afternoon. Alright?”
“Alright.”
“Hey,” Daichi added, just before Suga could turn away to make more calls. “Try not to worry. I’m way more concerned about them causing trouble rather than being in trouble. It’s almost certain that they’re all together. It’s going to be fine.”
(At 7:03 on that Monday morning, far from Miyagi, Kageyama shouted as Hinata was dragged to the opposite side of the room. Mere meters away, Tsukishima kicked and yelled for Yamaguchi, who was curled up and unresponsive and just out of his reach.
They were together, alright.)
Although it was disappointing, Sugawara wasn’t particularly worried when no one he had contacted knew the whereabouts of the first-years. The ruffians would probably attend classes during the day and wander into afternoon practice like nothing had happened. Then Suga would whoop their asses and Daichi would make them each run a hundred laps.
If not, Takeda would be able to contact their parents with ease, and the whole thing would be sorted out. Daichi was right; everything was going to be fine.
Daichi was a damn liar. It was seven o’clock at night. Twelve full hours had passed. Practice was over without a glimpse of any of their first-years. Yachi had no idea where they were, only that she hadn’t seen Tsukishima in class and that Hinata and Kageyama hadn’t found her to study during lunch break. Takeda had found unexcused absences marked in all of their classes throughout the day and had been trying to contact their respective guardians unsuccessfully since fucking four p.m. It was bad. The team’s administration and leadership were growing more stressed as practice went on and it showed. Not only in their mannerisms and performance, but in the effects it had on the remaining team members. The atmosphere was heavy with anxiety and lethargy. Practice dredged on and on until Daichi eventually dismissed them half an hour early. In an attempt to lift their spirits, Ukai announced that meat buns would be 60% off for the rest of the night. He cracked a joke that it would attract the first-years back like mice to cheese. The players had it in them to laugh and razz each other in the club room like usual.
Daichi didn’t miss Tanaka and Nishinoya quietly insisting to Shimizu and Yachi that they be escorted home. The girls exchanged glances and accepted. Daichi smiled as they left in a group of four. As obnoxious as those two boys were, it was evident in moments like these that they held great respect for and sincere devotion to their managers.
Asahi and the other three second years left in a pack, murmuring amongst themselves about making calls and investigating the shopping district for evidence of four teenage boys causing disturbance. The affection behind the plans warmed Daichi’s heart. He saw his team out the door and turned back into the gym. Takeda, Ukai, and Sugawara awaited him.
“I couldn’t make contact with anyone.” Takeda relayed. Though he kept calm, the man was naturally more emotive than the other three combined, and it was driving up the restless energy between them. “There have been no messages to the school, and not a single guardian picked up. I was even getting error messages for some of the numbers.”
Daichi frowned. “Error messages?”
Takeda nodded. “Hinata’s parents. The message box kept saying that the call couldn’t be dialed.” Daichi opened his mouth comment, but Takeda’s expression squirmed into something strange as he plowed on. “But as for the other three, simply no one picked up. I know Yamaguchi has a traditional family, but Kageyama’s guardian is his sister, and Tsukishima is technically emancipated, though I called his older brother, since he’s listed as an emergency contact.”
The rest of the leadership blinked. They hadn’t known that at all. How hadn’t they–?
Daichi pressed his lips together, frustration at his ignorance to his kouhai’s circumstances probing at his sense of calm, but he pushed it away. For the time being, that line of thought wasn’t helpful, and he needed to drag Ukai and Sugawara away from it before they got lost in it. “Kageyama and Tsukishima’s siblings must be college-aged,” he interjected, keeping his voice even and reasonable. “It seems likely that they might be busy with both work and school. I could understand that their attention might wander from their siblings, since both Kageyama and Tsukishima are very independent. In Tsukishima’s case, enough so for it to be legally recognized.”
Ukai nodded, that same frustration flitting across his features for a split second before vanishing. “I had the same thought. Most of them are probably busy during the day, and we can’t necessarily expect them to call back the same evening. It seems like nothing.”
“As far as Hinata’s parents, their numbers probably just need updated,” Sugawara agreed. “If we haven’t made contact with anyone by this time tomorrow, can we pull out their addresses and approach them directly?” he asked, directed at Takeda.
“Yes. Given the unexcused absences and failed attempts to reach out to their contacts, that is a fully justified initiative. For now, though, I think it’s best we all head home. Ukai, I believe you’ll have customers shortly,” Takeda said, a twinkle in his eyes. Ukai chuckled. He certainly did.
Daichi stared up at the ceiling. His hands were folded over his stomach under the covers. Peeling star stickers, almost ten years old, glowed dimly from the ceiling. A clock ticked away beneath the hum of the heater.
...
How could he not have known? These weren’t arbitrary facts about his teammates and kouhai. His young friends. He should have known. He should have been able to observe, or gotten more familiar with the first-years, or done some basic research about them. It was in his job description to care for his team in every way, as well as an obligation as a friend and as a decent fucking human being. What the hell kind of captain was he? He should just sign the position off to Sugawara. The paperwork might be a little complicated since it was a change mid-year, but nothing super extraneous.
His phone buzzed against his nightstand. Daichi clambered for it, not bothering to sit up. He swiped accept and brought it to his ear.
“Suga?”
“Stop it.”
“What?”
“You’re thinking so hard I can practically hear it. You’re a good captain, so stop it.”
“Then you stop it!”
They both sighed into the phone.
“I...I know this level of anxiety is irrational, but God, Daichi, I have such a bad feeling about this…”
“Me too. This is very unlike them. We’ll be able to take more steps tomorrow – They might even show up to practice. In the meantime, the best thing we can do for them is get some sleep. Do you want to stay the night? Or I could come over?”
“...I’ll be there in twenty. Thanks, Daichi.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
Daichi hung up and laid his phone on his chest. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He let himself cry now so he could be strong later.
It was all he could do.