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The rain fell so hard it hurt his skin, and the winds of the early morning passed sharp as razors against Kageyama’s flesh. The hoodie was already soaked with rainwater that had come without warning—he knew he had to find shelter, and fast, unless he wanted to die of hypothermia before dawn. (He wouldn’t die, but any thinking being would do the same.)
He rushed along the half-visible sidewalk—water was starting to swallow the pavement too—his waterlogged sneakers making noise as he ran toward the first high place he saw.
He recognized the sign for 'Light Station', one of those places you know exists but have never been to. He always passed it on his way back from college volleyball practice years ago but never dared to enter. Everything has a first time. Next to the sign with the name and general directions to other places was a small digital clock displaying the time: 00:13.
The station was small, with just three shops—one of them being the ticket booth for the train—and two benches. The farther bench was wet from the torrential rain, and on the one closest to Kageyama, two people were curled up hugging each other. A couple, crossed his mind. They were so close they almost merged, and despite being as drenched as he was, they smiled at each other, whispering between themselves.
The man had his back turned, wearing a hood, but his clothes looked nice. The woman was dressed well, though her pants, shirt, and face were wet - her makeup visibly running down the corners of her face. The man gently tried to wipe her face, inaudible affirmations insisting how beautiful she still looked - even with ruined makeup
Kageyama knew that face
And before he could think twice, three, or four times, he called out to the man:
"Hinata?"
_____
He was vainly trying to fix Juliana’s makeup while fighting the shiver crawling up his spine, making his hands tremble slightly.
"Hinata?" A familiar voice called his name—though he didn’t recognize it.
Startled -he hadn’t heard anyone arrive over the noise of the rain on the roof -, he turned fully, staring at the man who had just entered the place. "Hi?" Despite the near-nonexistent lighting, the face seemed equally familiar—like some distant relative you only see a handful of times in life.
Who is this? Where does this strange man come from?
They stared at each other now—Hinata trying to figure out who this man was, Kageyama scrambling for words in any language that could make him forget the past and focus on the present.
Where have I seen you? Who taught you my name? Who told you? Maybe he really was getting old and couldn’t remember this person—but something in his chest made his heart ache.
Thunder rumbled outside, and nothing could be heard over the deafening rain descending from Zeus’ wrath. A particularly strong lightning bolt lit up the station, and when he finally recognized the wet face before him, he felt something he’d never felt in all the decades he’d been with Juliana:
Shame.
Time had not spared Kageyama, and in the same way, it punished Hinata, it made them equals. His hair, beginning to gray at the edges, was completely messed up by the rain. He tried to smile—a sad, faded smile worn down by the same time responsible for the wrinkles adorning his tired face from a hard life - after Hinata, Kageyama never married. Loving anyone else made no sense
Hinata, apparently, didn’t feel the same.
"Kageyama?" His lips moved in the shape of a name that hadn’t been spoken in so long, but Kageyama couldn’t hear anything. He no longer remembered Hinata’s voice—maybe it was better if he never remembered at all.
The redhead let go of Juliana’s face and stood up, as if trying to distance himself from her. What a despicable move, he cursed himself inside. He just couldn’t resist. This made Kageyama think that maybe she was just a friend, Hinata always had plenty of female friends and
both wore matching rings.
The eyes gravitated toward the ring he hadn’t taken off his finger in years, and Hinata, noticing, quickly tucked his hand into the pocket of his leather jacket, in a way his wife wouldn’t see.
He stepped closer to Kageyama, but when he opened his arms for a hug, the other took a step back in hesitation.
"You got married." Not a question. A statement leaving no room for doubt.
They couldn’t hear each other, but Hinata understood anyway what the words meant and nodded.
Years of uncertainty and pain clarified themselves for Kageyama.
Back when cell phones weren’t common in Japan, they’d graduated high school. They’d been dating for two years, and Kageyama knew he’d marry him someday—the only person who could handle him and still push him to be better.
Kageyama had gotten into a university in Tokyo and had to move (his father had already paid for an apartment for the first few months, though he’d still need a job). He’d hoped his boyfriend would come with him—they’d gotten into the same school, after all.
But life had other plans.
Hinata, fidgeting with his diploma in hand, stared at his feet as he nervously explained he was going to Brazil to study beach volleyball there. Kageyama was momentarily speechless, then asked about the plans they’d made together. His eyes burned. He felt betrayed.
Hinata explained it was a last-minute decision and that he’d come back—the exchange wouldn’t be long. He hugged his boyfriend after making sure no one was watching and kissed him.
"That long without you?" He sobbed quietly.
"It’s just five years. We’ll be 23 when I come back, and then we’ll have the rest of our lives." Hinata scattered kisses across the taller boy’s face, calming him down.
"Where will we meet? What if we never talk again?"
"We'll met right here, same place, same day. Good for you? And I’ll give you my address in Brazil—relax." He scribbled foreign words inside Kageyama’s cone before hugging him tightly.
A day later, Hinata’s plane took off "I love you," he whispered to the redhead "Love you too," came the sweet like candy reply at his ear before they discreetly sealed their lips in farewell.
Hinata never showed up at the promised place.
The letters Kageyama sent stopped being returned after the fifth month. By the tenth year, he accepted he’d never see his love again. Everything he had was taken to Brazil.
Now, he finally understood why.
"How long?" The cold of the weather didn’t reach his body—or maybe it had taken him over completely. He felt nothing but an emptiness in his chest. His own voice echoed inside his skull.
"Almost 30 years together." There was no reason to lie now, he figured. Kageyama couldn’t hear his voice, but recognized the shape of the words—and with quick math, the years matched up since high school. Maybe he shouldn’t have loved just one person so much.
Hinata quickly added, "But we can still be friends!" He spoke louder now, sounding almost cheerful—if not for the desperate expression on his face blending with the madness in his eyes.
Kageyama didn’t answer. Instead, he extended his hand for a handshake.
Hinata took it, smiling in a way that almost made Kageyama miss him. If it hadn't been so long.
They shook hands.
But unlike what Hinata expected, the taller man turned and walked away—calm steps, not looking back even once. The digital clock at the entrance now read 00:18.
Two strangers walking apart, the rain falling. In the silence of the sleeping city, Kageyama stepped back onto the submerged sidewalk. It wasn’t as cold as before, and he walked on beneath the thunder and the downpour, until he finally disappeared at the end of the flooded street.