Chapter Text
3 years ago
“Oi,” Kageyama said, grabbing him by the arm. “You’re a real pain, you know that? You should leave before you embarrass yourself even more.”
“Get—hic—off me,” Shoyo slurred, trying weakly to push him away.
“I don’t know what your deal is, but you need to pull yourself together,” Kageyama snarled, his grip tightening. “You’re a talented artist, and you’re going to end up throwing it all away if you keep acting like this.” The thought of Shoyo wasting away because of recklessness, like so many before him had, made an unfamiliar sense of concern dawn upon him.
Shoyo froze, his wide eyes searching Kageyama’s face. “You… you think I’m talented?” he whispered, his voice trembling.
Kageyama looked away, his ears tinged pink. “I’ve heard your stuff. It’s… not terrible.”
Shoyo’s mouth fell open in drunken wonder. “You mean you—hic—don’t mind?”
“Why would I mind?” Kageyama said gruffly, his annoyance softening as he caught the strangely endearing way Shoyo blinked up at him, wide-eyed and hiccupping.
“Because I was worried—hic—that you’d think I was creepy…” Shoyo mumbled, swaying slightly.
“Why would I—”
Before Kageyama could finish, Shoyo doubled over and retched, the contents of his stomach spilling all over Kageyama’s pants.
The next morning, Hinata found himself in a world of despair and embarrassment. Hinata lay face down on the sofa, groaning into the cushions as his head pounded with the dual weight of a hangover and humiliation.
“I can’t believe I did that,” he moaned, muffled by the fabric.
From across the room, Atsumu Miya was in hysterics, clutching his sides as he howled with laughter.
“This is too good!” Atsumu gasped between cackles. “I wish I could’ve seen his face when ya threw up on him! ” He dissolved into another fit of wild laughter, nearly toppling off the chair.
“It’s not funny!” Hinata wailed, lifting his head just enough to glare at his manager before collapsing back down. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Oh, come on,” Atsumu wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. “This is comedy gold. I’m telling ya, it was worth every penny.”
Hinata’s head shot up, his face pale but now tinged with indignation. “What do you mean, every penny? ”
Atsumu grinned mischievously, clearly pleased with himself. “I may or may not have bribed the planning committee to seat ya two next to each other.”
“You what? ” Hinata bolted upright, his head spinning as he stared at Atsumu in horror.
“Relax, it was for yer own good, ya had to meet him eventually,” Atsumu said, still grinning. “And let’s be real—it was worth it.”
“Worth it? ” Hinata shrieked. “I made a complete fool of myself! I couldn’t stop drinking because I was so nervous. And now he hates my guts because I threw up all over him!”
Atsumu sobered just enough to tilt his head thoughtfully. “So… he doesn’t hate ya because ya wrote a song about him without actually meeting him?”
Hinata froze, his thoughts whirring as he tried to piece together the fragments of the disastrous evening.
“...No,” he admitted slowly. “He was actually kinda nice to me before —well— that. ”
“Maybe he doesn’t know that Movie Star is about him,” Atsumu suggested with a shrug.
Hinata frowned, replaying the evening in his mind. “No, he knows. He said he heard my stuff…” The pop star said slowly. Recalling the way the movie-star had spoken to him. “... He said he didn’t mind.”
“No way he did!” Atsumu exclaimed, leaning forward with wide eyes. Then, after a pause, he tilted his head thoughtfully
“Well he said ‘why would I mind? ’...” Hinata blinked slowly as he recollected his memory, his head still pounding.
“Actually… that kinda makes sense. Movie stars get so much attention all the time. This probably means nothing to him.”
Hinata flinched at the words, a sharp pang settling in his chest. Mean nothing to him. Of course, it was the truth, wasn’t it? He’d poured his heart into a song that laid his feelings bare for the entire world to hear—feelings for none other than world-famous movie star Kageyama Tobio. And Kageyama’s calm, nonchalant reaction said it all: it didn’t matter to him. Hinata didn’t matter to him. The movie-star had rejected his feelings.
Atsumu, ever perceptive when it came to his popstar’s moods, sighed and leaned back. “Look, honestly? If he doesn’t mind, that just means you’ve got a free pass to keep writing about him.”
Hinata’s eyes widened, a flicker of excitement breaking through the gloom. “You think so?”
Atsumu grinned, throwing an arm around Hinata’s shoulders like he was sharing a well-kept secret. “Suuuuure,” he drawled, the teasing lilt in his voice impossible to miss. “Who knows? Maybe if ya write enough songs, you’ll actually get over your lil’ crush.”
Hinata paused on the thought. Recalling his conversation with Kageyama Tobio at that horrific event.
“He said I was talented…” He mumbled to himself, so low not even Atsumu could hear. The warmth bloomed as he recalled the words from the grumpy movie-star.
“What?” Atsumu said, unable to hear his pop star.
“N-nothing!” Hinata blinked, then nodded vigorously, determination sparking in his eyes. “You’re right! That’s exactly what I’ll do! Keep writing.”
Atsumu burst out laughing, pulling the world-famous popstar into a playful side hug. “That’s the spirit! Keep writing, keep singing, keep selling. ” His grin turned downright devilish, and if Hinata had been paying attention, he might’ve noticed the dollar signs lighting up Atsumu’s eyes.
But Hinata was already lost in thought, plotting his next song, his wheels turning as fast as his heart was racing
Hinata Shoyo had just finished his performance at the movie awards show—the same one Kageyama Tobio had infamously walked out on.
“He walked out as soon as I came on stage…” Hinata muttered, panting as he tried to catch his breath. No matter how hard he tried to mask it, disappointment flickered in his eyes, threatening to bloom into something deeper.
Atsumu Miya, ever the reliable manager, sighed and slung a comforting arm around the popstar’s shoulders. “He probably did you a favor,” Atsumu offered, his tone light yet calculated.
Hinata blinked up at him, a small glimmer of hope breaking through. “You think so?”
“Of course!” Atsumu said with an easy grin. “He knows the songs are about him, right? Probably didn’t want you to feel embarrassed.”
Hinata’s expression brightened, the hurt momentarily forgotten. “Yeah… that makes sense!”
Before Atsumu could bask in his success at keeping Hinata’s spirits up, the sound of hurried footsteps made both men turn. The man in question stormed into the room, his expression dark.
“Your performance sucked,” Kageyama hissed, his voice low but cutting, the venom in his tone unmistakable.
“You didn’t even watch it!” Hinata shot back, his cheeks still flushed from the adrenaline of performing—and now from the confrontation.
“I didn’t need to. I knew it sucked because it was you performing.”
“Jerk!”
“Dumbass!”
The exchange ended as abruptly as it started. Kageyama spun on his heel, his retreating figure stiff with frustration.
Atsumu watched him go, his lips pursed in mock contemplation. “He probably still hates ya for throwin’ up on him though,” he mused aloud, stroking his chin like it was a profound revelation.
He turned back to Hinata, expecting him to be fuming. Instead, the popstar was grinning from ear to ear, his mood impossibly buoyant.
Atsumu groaned. “Yer hopeless,”
Hinata just beamed, his heart racing for all the wrong reasons.
“Yeah, yeah,” Atsumu grumbled, though a fond smile tugged at his lips. “Anyway, I didn’t just come here to admire yer’ grossness. I’ve got some news for ya.”
“Oh?” Shoyo tilted his head, curiosity piqued. He slung the towel over his shoulder, leaning in conspiratorially. “Spill it! Don’t keep me in suspense.”
Atsumu leaned closer, his grin widening. “I just got a very special phone call…”
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Hinata said, pacing the floor of his dressing room after the show. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, betraying his unease.
“A PR relationship with him will be perfect ,” Atsumu countered, lounging on the sofa like he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell. “Think of the publicity! The fans are gonna lose their minds—it’s a win-win.”
Hinata stopped mid-step and turned to face him, eyes wide with concern. “I’m going to fall in love with him,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “And we both know he doesn’t feel the same about me. So when the contract ends, I’m the one who’s going to get hurt.”
Atsumu’s face lit up like Hinata had just handed him the answer to all his problems. “ Exactly! ” he cried, throwing his arms wide as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Hinata blinked, confused. “I don’t understand…”
“Shoyo-kun,” Atsumu began, his tone turning persuasive, “yer songs? They’re not just hits because yer’ a pop genius—which ya are, by the way. They’re hits because they’re raw, real, and packed with emotion. And yer’ feelings for Kageyama? Oh, they’re real , all right.”
“Okay…so?” Hinata asked warily, still not following.
“So,” Atsumu continued, leaning forward with a glint of excitement in his eyes, “when yer’ heart gets broken—and trust me, it will—you’ll have the kind of material songwriters dream of. Real, genuine feelings. Ya could write a hit song about the pain!”
Hinata hesitated, his mind already spiraling into what that heartbreak might look like. “I could… write a whole album about it,”
“Even better!” Atsumu said, practically vibrating with excitement now. The thought of chart-topping hits—and the royalties that came with them—sent dollar signs flashing before his eyes. “A whole heartbreak album of raw emotion born from a fake PR relationship. The fans will eat it up! Not just because it’s real, but because they’ll need to hear yer’ side of the breakup. It’ll destroy the charts!”
Hinata’s pacing slowed as he considered the idea, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I… suppose,” he murmured.
Seeing the crack in Hinata’s resolve, Atsumu slid off the sofa and slung an arm around his shoulder. “And once you’ve poured your heart into your songs and moved on, you’ll finally be free of this one-sided love,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. “And who knows?” Atsumu grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “Maybe you’ll find someone new to write about.”
Hinata met his gaze, the weight of those words settling on him. The idea of being free from this endless yearning stirred something inside him—a flicker of hope.
But it wasn’t enough.
Atsumu’s grin softened into something gentler. “Don’t worry, Sho-kun,” he said, his tone quiet and steady. “Yer’ going to get hurt. That’s inevitable. But I promise, I won’t let ya get hurt more than necessary.”
Hinata’s eyes lifted, wide and searching. His voice was small when he asked, “Promise?”
Atsumu sighed, his arm giving a gentle squeeze. “I’ll pull the plug as soon as it’s too much. I’ll pay whatever cancellation fee they charge us for breaking the contract early.” He finished with a lopsided grin.
Hinata nodded, slowly, as if processing each word one by one. He didn’t say anything else, but the slight dip of his head and the faint press of his lips together spoke volumes.
Atsumu watched closely, his grin widening as he caught that telltale glimmer in Hinata’s eyes. It was the same expression Hinata always wore when he’d finally been convinced.
Hinata was sold —the promise of freeing himself from this one-sided love and sparing himself any more unnecessary pain was enough to seal his decision.
Present Day:
Daichi stepped into one of the boardrooms, his eyes immediately landing on Sugawara. The manager sat hunched over his tablet, tears streaming silently down his face, headphones firmly in place.
Without a word, Daichi walked over and took the seat beside him. Sugawara glanced up, his stormy grey eyes clouded with emotion. Daichi reached out, gently plucking one of the headphones from Sugawara’s ear and slipping it into his own.
The haunting melody of Shoyo’s song filled his ear:
"I thought love was a tide, soft and true,
But you pulled me under with eyes so blue.
The waves of your gaze, they swept me away,
Now I’m lost in the ocean of things I can’t say."
“You okay, Suga?” Daichi asked, placing a comforting hand on Sugawara’s shoulder.
Sugawara’s bottom lip quivered before he managed a reply. “I found out today…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “the difference between a breakup album and a heartbreak album…” Tears continued to spill over as his voice cracked.
Daichi sighed softly, sliding closer. Without hesitation, he wrapped an arm around Sugawara and pulled him into a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.
“It’s alright, Suga,” he murmured.
Sugawara shook his head, his voice breaking as he confessed, “I feel so bad… If I’d known Shoyo had real feelings for Kageyama, I never would’ve let them get into that PR relationship…”
Another verse of the song played through the earbud:
"Every glance, every smile, was a siren's call,
I gave you my everything, but you gave me the fall.
Now I’m stranded in shadows, where the sunlight won’t break,
Drowning in memories of my own mistake."
“The kid will be fine,” Daichi reassured, his voice steady and warm. He rubbed a soothing hand up and down Sugawara’s back. “He’s going on tour now, isn’t he? Isn’t Rome next on the schedule?”
Sugawara nodded shakily. “Yeah… Atsumu said the first show in Europe is this week.”
Daichi chuckled, a gentle warmth in his tone. “See? Perfect distraction. He gets to leave Japan, focus on his music, and finally move on. He’ll be relieved, trust me.”
Sugawara hesitated, then looked up with teary eyes. “You really think so?”
“I know so.” Daichi’s voice was firm, full of quiet certainty. “It’ll be okay.”
"Dark waters rise, pulling me below,
I’m lost in a love I can’t let go.
The deeper I fall, the colder it feels,
This emptiness is the only thing real."
Sugawara exhaled shakily and leaned into Daichi’s embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around him.
The lyrics played on, lingering in the background like a bittersweet memory:
"I’ve fallen for you and your deep blue eyes,
But it’s too late now that I realize.
I’ve sunk to the bottom, there’s no breaking through,
Caught in the current of your deep blue.
Your deep blue..."
Kageyama sat in the back of a taxi, the city blurring past him as he headed to the airport for yet another flight. The scenery outside seemed distant, as his thoughts lingered elsewhere: Hinata.
The faint sound of the radio drifted into his awareness, pulling him from his reverie.
“I should’ve seen it coming,
But I was too blind to know,
I played the fool, you played your part,
Now I’m left picking up the pieces of my heart.”
The familiar voice singing the melancholy tune sent a jolt through him. It was Hinata.
“Can you turn it down?” Kageyama asked abruptly, his tone sharper than intended. The lyrics clawed at him, every word a reminder of the rift between them.
“Oh, sorry about that,” the elderly driver said with a chuckle, lowering the volume. “My granddaughter loves this artist. I try to listen to his songs so I can chat with her about them when she visits.”
The warmth in the man’s laugh drew Kageyama’s attention to the dashboard, where a photo of a smiling young woman and a little girl was tucked next to the GPS. His eyes flicked to the driver’s identification card on the back of the passenger seat: Yasufumi Nekomata.
“You’ve heard of him, right? Apparently, he’s a big star,” Nekomata said, glancing at Kageyama through the rearview mirror.
“No, I haven’t,” Kageyama lied tersely, unwilling to engage further.
“Did you know he wrote this song about a real breakup? I read it was with some movie star. Must’ve really loved that person—you can hear it in his voice.”
Kageyama’s jaw tightened. He didn’t respond, because he was that movie star.
“Man, I’m glad I’m not famous,” Nekomata continued, unbothered by the silence. “Imagine breaking up with someone and their face and hearing their voice are everywhere, reminding you. Gotta feel for those celebrities.” He chuckled as the car rolled to a stop at a red light.
The universe seemed determined to twist the knife. Kageyama glanced up and saw it—a massive billboard looming above the intersection.
Hinata Shoyo.
The heartbreak album cover was dark and striking, a stark departure from Hinata’s usual sunny persona. He wasn’t shirtless, as was often expected of him. Instead, he wore a partially unbuttoned black shirt, the shadows playing against his features as he held a black rose delicately between his fingers. The title of the album, Deep Blue, was scrawled elegantly beneath his piercing gaze.
Kageyama forced himself to look away, the image searing itself into his memory despite his best efforts.
The taxi lurched forward, and though the volume was lower, Hinata’s voice still carried softly through the speakers.
"That look in your eye, I wanted to believe,
But now all I feel is the pain I can’t relieve.
And now I’m standing here, trying to pretend,
That I’m fine, but I’m left with a heart to mend."
Kageyama stared out the window, his chest heavy, as the city melted into a blur.
Rome:
Hinata tugged at the hem of his jacket, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. The silence was deafening, pressing in on him from all sides like a phantom presence. The usual cacophony of cheers and murmurs that accompanied a pre-show stage was nowhere to be found.
“Why is it so quiet?” he muttered, glancing toward Atsumu, who stood a few steps behind him, leaning casually against the doorframe. His manager's ever-present smirk did nothing to ease the unease coiling in his stomach.
“Don’t ask me,” Atsumu said, waving him toward the stage. “Show’s about to start.”
Hinata frowned, his brows knitting together as he peeked past the thick velvet curtain. His heart sank. The seats, row upon row stretching into the shadows, were completely empty.
“Are we here on the wrong date?” he asked, his voice rising in panic.
“Nope,” Atsumu sighed, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
“Then... where is everyone?” Hinata’s voice faltered, his hands tightening on the curtain. His mind began to spin with worst-case scenarios. “Was my show cancelled? Am I being cancelled? ”
Atsumu chuckled, a maddeningly light sound in the oppressive quiet. “Oh, it’s a sold-out show, all right.”
“What?!” Hinata’s heart thudded in his chest as he tried to process the contradiction. “Sold out? To who?!”
“You’ll see.” Atsumu gestured to the stage, his grin widening. “Now, get out there and perform.”
Hinata took a hesitant step forward, his sneakers barely making a sound on the polished floor. The emptiness of the stadium was surreal, the silence broken only by the soft creak of the boards beneath his feet. It felt more like a rehearsal than a live show, and his unease deepened with each step.
“Sold-out show…” he muttered under his breath, trying to make sense of the situation.
As he reached the edge of the stage, he spotted a figure in the front row—a lone man sitting with his arms crossed, a scowl etched into his face.
The man’s sharp gaze locked onto Hinata, dark and piercing, as though he could see straight through him. The weight of that stare was staggering, and Hinata froze, his breath caught in his throat.
Kageyama Tobio.
Hinata blinked, his mind reeling. “No way…” he whispered, his voice barely audible even to himself.
Kageyama didn’t say a word, didn’t move, but his presence alone filled the vast emptiness of the arena.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Hinata muttered, glancing back at Atsumu, who was now leaning casually against the side of the stage, grinning like a cat who’d just caught a particularly juicy bird. “You bought all the tickets to my show?”
His only response from the movie star was a deepend scowl.
“I—I don’t understand.” Hinata’s voice wavered as he turned to Kageyama. “Why did you do that?”
Kageyama grunted, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. “He told me it was the only way I could see you.”
Atsumu immediately burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “I can’t believe you fell for that, Tobio-kun!” he jeered, his grin wide and mischievous.
Kageyama scowled, his glare like a thundercloud brewing on the horizon.
“So, like… do you want me to perform or…?” Hinata asked hesitantly, his gaze flicking between the stage and the two men.
“No, you idiot,” Kageyama barked, his voice sharp as he stormed onto the stage. His temper radiated with every heavy step.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Atsumu chuckled, retreating with a wink that only fueled Kageyama’s ire.
Hinata stared, wide-eyed, as the movie star marched toward him, his every movement charged with frustration. But Hinata stood his ground, his chin lifting in defiance.
“You are, by far, the biggest idiot I’ve ever met,” Kageyama snapped, his voice low and brimming with intensity.
“Yeah, well, you’re—”
“Shut up!” Kageyama interrupted, jabbing a finger into Hinata’s chest with enough force to make him take a half-step back. “I can’t believe what a dumbass you are.”
“You bought out my show just to tell me this?” Hinata shot back, his voice tinged with incredulity.
“I said shut up,” Kageyama growled. His glare softened for a fleeting moment, only to harden again. “I had no idea…”
“No idea about what?”
“That… that they were about me.”
Hinata blinked, his heart stuttering mid-beat. “Wha—”
“Your stupid songs,” Kageyama muttered, his voice softer now, though the intensity in his gaze hadn’t waned. “I didn’t know they were about me.”
For a moment, Hinata froze, the words hanging in the air like a challenge he wasn’t prepared for. His mind scrambled to process the revelation, flipping through the possibilities like pages in a book. Was this good? Bad?
All this time, he had convinced himself that Kageyama’s indifference to his music was a quiet rejection, a subtle way of saying he didn’t care. But now that Kageyama knew the truth... Was this the prelude to an official rejection?
“Oh…” Was all the pop star could reply with.
“"If I had known…" His voice faltered, chest heaving with pent-up anger. "If I had known ..."
"Kageyama what the hell are you—"
Kageyama silenced the pop star with a fierce kiss, yanking him close as if the sheer proximity could convey everything words couldn’t. Frustration, longing, anger—all of it poured out in that single moment. Hinata, bewildered and breathless, could only clutch at the pristine fabric of the movie star's white shirt, his world spinning too fast to process.
The unmistakable click of a camera shattered the moment.
Atsumu stood a few feet away, his phone raised, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. "Can’t wait to send this to the press," he muttered gleefully, his voice thick with amusement.
Hinata and Kageyama blinked at him, then back at each other. Reality slammed into Hinata like a freight train.
“You can’t just do stuff like that anymore!” Hinata shouted, pushing Kageyama back with trembling hands. His chest heaved as he glared, his cheeks flushed with anger and something else he didn’t want to name. “The contract is over!”
“I’m not here for contractual purposes, idiot!” Kageyama fired back, his voice rising. “I’m here for the real deal!”
Hinata froze, his brain grinding to a halt. “Wait, so… you’re saying… a-are you confessing right now?”
Kageyama scowled, his face going red as he grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.
Hinata blinked before his emotions overflowed. “What the hell kind of love confession is that ? You storm in here, yell at me, call me a bunch of names, and— mmmph —!”
The rest of his words were swallowed by another kiss, this one deeper, slower, and utterly consuming. It was the kind of kiss that made Hinata’s knees buckle and his breath hitch in his throat. Heat coiled in his stomach as Kageyama’s hands slid to his waist, steadying him. The faint smell of aftershave lingered between them, intoxicating and grounding all at once.
Hinata melted against him despite himself, a soft noise escaping his throat.
"Idiots," Atsumu muttered, shaking his head as he pocketed his phone. "I’ll leave you two lovebirds to figure this out." He sauntered off, still grinning.
That night, the media went into a frenzy:
BREAKING NEWS—World-famous movie star Kageyama Tobio reunites with world-famous pop star Shoyo in a grand gesture.
BREAKING NEWS— Top celebrities rekindle their love.
NEWS FLASH — Kageyama Tobio buys out Shoyo’s entire show in grand romantic gesture!
BREAKING— Kageyama Tobio cheating on world-famous actor-turned-director Oikawa Tooru?
By morning, the PR teams of both stars were collectively buzzing with the chaos—and opportunity—the news brought. For better or worse, the world couldn’t look away.
“Why are you crying?” The Head of Security, Daichi, demanded as he stormed into the office. His sharp eyes locked on Sugawara, who was slumped over his desk, his shoulders shaking with every sob. “Tell me who did this to you, and I’ll—”
“N-no…” Sugawara choked out, barely able to form words between his hiccuping breaths.
“What happened?” Daichi pressed, his voice gruff with concern. “Do I need to double security? Did someone get past the team?”
Sugawara swatted at his arms weakly, his tear-streaked face crumpling further. “Stop trying to double security over every little thing,” he whined, his voice breaking as tears spilled freely down his cheeks.
Daichi frowned and crouched down to meet his eye level, his tone softening slightly. “Then tell me what’s going on. What happened?”
Sugawara sniffled, fumbling to unlock his tablet before thrusting it toward Daichi. “L-look,” he managed, his voice quivering as he dissolved into tears again.
Daichi took the tablet and glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing as he read the headline:
BREAKING NEWS— World-Famous Movie Star Kageyama Tobio Buys Out World-Famous Popstar Shoyo’s Entire Concert in Grand Romantic Gesture.
He hummed thoughtfully, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I can’t believe you guys told him to pull this stunt, the budget for this must’ve been massive!” he muttered. “But...I thought the PR contract was canceled?”
Sugawara grabbed another tissue and blew his nose loudly, tears streaming anew. “We didn’t!” he wailed, the words muffled by the tissue. “It wasn’t in the script at all!”
Hinata Shoyo and Kageyama Tobio found themselves weaving through the quiet, cobbled streets of Rome. The bustling city felt like another world compared to the usual glitz and glamour they were accustomed to. In an effort to stay hidden from the prying eyes of the paparazzi, they donned matching baseball caps, oversized sunglasses, and masks that obscured their identities.
"This is so exciting," Hinata whispered, his fingers lacing tighter into Kageyama's. "We've never snuck around like this before."
Kageyama squeezed his hand in response, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips as they slipped through the winding streets. There was something thrilling about being ordinary for once, escaping the constant spotlight.
It wasn't long before they found themselves on a secluded stretch of beach, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore offering them a rare moment of peace. They sat side by side, ice creams in hand, their fingers still intertwined.
"Man, this is so nice," Hinata sighed, gazing out at the endless expanse of the ocean. "Who would’ve thought we’d end up here…"
Kageyama raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you hadn’t gotten drunk and thrown up on me the night we met, we might've gotten here a lot sooner."
Hinata paused mid-lick, looking up at him in surprise. His expression quickly shifted from confusion to playful suspicion. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Realizing his slip-up, Kageyama flushed, stammering as he tried to backpedal. "N-nothing! You're stupid," he snapped, the heat in his face betraying his unease.
Hinata stared at him for a long moment before a soft chuckle escaped him. "Tobio..." he began, voice lowering slightly, "When did you realize you had feelings for me?"
Kageyama's eyes widened, clearly caught off guard. "When did you realize you had feelings for me?" he shot back, eager to turn the question around.
Hinata let out a soft laugh, his gaze drifting to the horizon before returning to Kageyama. "Well, if I’m being honest... probably in high school," he admitted, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks. "Before I became famous..."
Kageyama blinked in surprise. "Before you became famous?" he echoed, trying to process the revelation.
Hinata nodded, the corners of his lips curling into a sheepish grin. "Yeah... I saw one of your movies, and I was totally smitten."
Kageyama's lips parted in disbelief, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible smile, his expression softening just a fraction.
"Your turn," Hinata teased, nudging Kageyama with his shoulder. "When did you know? Was it in New York? Or… was it at the Teen Choice Awards? Oh! Was it at my fan event?"
Kageyama grunted, his cheeks flushing a light pink. "No..." he muttered, trying to deflect.
"Aww, tell meeeee!" Hinata whined, dragging the word out playfully.
Kageyama sighed, finally relenting. "It was... the day we met," he admitted, his voice quiet but genuine.
Hinata’s eyes widened in surprise. "What? No way!"
"Way..." Kageyama chuckled, though the flush on his face deepened. "I thought you were rejecting me... that's why I was so mad."
Hinata threw his head back, laughing loud and carefree. "No way! I thought you were rejecting me all these years! I wrote so many songs, and you never acknowledged it!"
Kageyama rolled his eyes. "How was I supposed to know they were about me?"
Hinata narrowed his eyes, teasing, "It was pretty obvious."
"No, it wasn’t." Kageyama shook his head, a slight frown tugging at his lips.
Hinata’s grin turned playful, his voice dropping into a mocking tone. "Well, should I have written a song called 'Kageyama Tobio'? Would that have helped?"
Kageyama scoffed, the corners of his mouth twitching. "That’s stupid."
Hinata raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "How stupid could it be? Ariana Grande did it for Pete Davidson. She literally wrote a song called 'Pete Davidson.'"
Kageyama recoiled, his eyes widening in mock horror. "Don’t compare us to that couple!" he protested, his voice tinged with playful outrage, clearly not wanting to be part of such comparisons.
Hinata’s laughter bubbled up again, a sound so bright and carefree that it seemed to lift the atmosphere around them. His heart felt light, his joy practically radiating. "Hey, it’s not a bad idea," he teased, nudging Kageyama's side with his elbow, the warmth of the playful moment filling the air between them.
But before Kageyama could respond, the unmistakable click-click-click of a camera shattered the bubble of their private world.
Both of their gazes snapped upward in unison. The sunlight caught the lens of several cameras, each one aimed at them like a spotlight, the familiar paparazzi gathering at a distance, eager to snap their every move. The reality of their fame hit them in a flash.
Kageyama’s jaw tightened, and in an instant, he was on his feet, his expression hardening with that familiar protective instinct.
"Come on," he said urgently, extending his hand toward Hinata, his eyes scanning the area for an escape route. His tone was desperate, desperate to have just one more moment of privacy with the one person he wanted most.
Hinata blinked up at him, momentarily confused by the sudden shift in Kageyama's demeanor. "Why? Where are we going?" he asked, a little breathless but still caught up in the fun of their earlier conversation.
"We’re going to run away from the paparazzi," Kageyama explained, exasperation lacing his voice but also a touch of amusement, as if the very idea of running from the photographers was both ridiculous and freeing. He was desperate to steal back what little normalcy they could have together.
Hinata’s eyes widened, his excitement igniting as his grin grew even wider. "Uaaaaah!" he cried out, practically bouncing on his toes. "I’ve always wanted to do that!" The thrill of the moment swept through him, and the playful glint in his eyes matched the brightness of the sun setting on the horizon.
Kageyama rolled his eyes, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Shut up, dumbass," he muttered, his tone softer now, filled with affection and frustration in equal measure. "Let’s go!" Without wasting another second, he grabbed Hinata's hand, his grip firm and sure.
Together, they broke into a sprint, their feet pounding against the soft sand as they raced away from the flashbulbs and the prying eyes. The rush of adrenaline flooded their veins, their laughter ringing through the air like music as they ran toward freedom, disappearing into the golden hues of the sunset.
World-famous actor turned director Oikawa Tooru found himself donning an oversized pair of sunglasses, a mask, and a wide-brimmed hat. Disguised and determined, he slinked past the bustling staff of Shoyo’s music-video set like a shadow.
His sharp eyes scanned the vibrant set, which looked like something out of a dream. Twinkling fairy lights crisscrossed a lush garden, tables were adorned with vibrant fruits and cascading flowers, and a fountain shimmered under the artificial sunlight. Shades of blue dominated the scene, evoking the sultry charm of a midsummer romance—perfect for the shooting of Hinata Shoyo’s latest hit single, Mr. Blueberry Eyes .
Oikawa’s gaze eventually landed on his targets. There they were—world-famous pop star Hinata Shoyo and his co-star, Kageyama Tobio, an equally renowned actor. The two stood off to the side of the set, engrossed in a private moment.
Kageyama had leaned down slightly, his face mere inches from Hinata’s, his expression attentive as Hinata whispered something in his ear.
Beneath his mask, Oikawa’s lips curled into a smirk. It was all too perfect—he could swoop in, stir the pot, and remind everyone (especially Kageyama) that Oikawa Tooru was still a force to be reckoned with.
Straightening his posture with newfound resolve, Oikawa moved forward, his every step brimming with confidence. That is, until he hit an immovable object—or rather, an immovable someone.
His nose practically collided with a wall of solid muscle, and Oikawa stumbled back slightly, blinking up at the towering figure before him.
Aone.
Hinata’s Head of Security stood tall and silent, his unreadable expression a stark contrast to Oikawa’s flustered one. Aone’s sheer presence radiated authority, and Oikawa could practically feel the judgment emanating from him.
“Well, well, well,” a familiar, smug drawl broke through the tension. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
Oikawa’s irritation spiked as he turned his head toward the speaker. There stood Hinata’s manager, Atsumu Miya, with his signature smirk. His arms were crossed, his clipboard tucked under one elbow as he regarded Oikawa with thinly veiled amusement.
“Tch,” Oikawa scoffed, trying to regain his composure and turning his head dismissively.
“Seems like our big-shot actor turned director has plenty of free time on his hands, eh, Aone?” Atsumu quipped, his tone sharp yet dripping with mockery. He turned toward the stoic security guard, who remained an unyielding statue. "Especially since his most recent movie flopped."
"What movie?" Aone asked, his deep, even tone cutting through the tension.
Atsumu threw his head back in laughter, the sound echoing across the set. "Exactly, Aone! What movie? " He slapped his knee, doubling over as if the joke was the funniest thing he’d heard all day.
“Urgh,” Oikawa straightened his posture, brushing imaginary dust off his coat as he tried to regain some semblance of dignity. “I’m just passing through,” he said, tilting his chin upward in indignation.
Atsumu crossed his arms, his sharp eyes raking over the director with amused suspicion. "Ah, we know why you’re here." He let out a chuckle, jerking his thumb in the direction of the set. "You’re here to mess with that actor over there."
Oikawa followed the gesture, his gaze landing on world-famous movie star Kageyama Tobio, who was still deep in conversation with Hinata.
“I get it,” Atsumu said, shrugging casually. “I wanna mess with that guy too sometimes.”
Oikawa’s lips curved into a sly grin, his eyes lighting up. "Then let me through," he said quickly, sensing an opportunity. "I promise to leave your little pop star out of it."
Atsumu responded with a long, drawn-out sigh, his expression a perfect mix of exasperation and condescension. “As much as I’d enjoy the prospect of you harassing Tobio-kun, the reality is, when you hurt him, you’re hurting Shoyo.”
His tone was laced with mockery, but his words carried an unmistakable warning. Atsumu turned slightly, gesturing toward the ever-vigilant Aone. "And we can’t have that, can we, Aone?"
Aone’s stoic expression darkened, his features hardening as the idea of Hinata being hurt registered. For the first time, his voice carried a frigid edge.
“No one hurts Shoyo,” he declared coldly, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a final verdict.
The back door slammed open with a metallic clang, the sound reverberating through the narrow alleyway. A moment later, Oikawa Tooru—world-famous actor turned director—was unceremoniously tossed out like yesterday’s garbage.
He hit the ground with an undignified yelp, limbs flailing as he skidded to a halt on the rough concrete. His hat tumbled off, his sunglasses went askew, and his once-impeccable disguise was left in disarray.
“And stay out!” Atsumu’s voice echoed from inside the studio, dripping with smug satisfaction.
The door slammed shut with another resounding clang, leaving Oikawa sprawled on the ground, dazed and humiliated.
“Ugh… ow…” he groaned, propping himself up on one elbow and gingerly brushing dirt from his designer jacket. He muttered curses under his breath, aiming equal disdain at that towering security guard and Atsumu’s irritating grin.
And then he heard it.
Click. Click.
The unmistakable sound of a camera shutter, followed by a burst of light.
Oikawa tensed, his body going rigid.
“The paparazzi,” he hissed under his breath.
Before he could fully process the situation, a figure emerged from the shadows, camera in hand, lens practically gleaming with predatory glee.
“Oikawa! What were you doing sneaking onto Shoyo’s music set?”
“Are you trying to rekindle your romance with world-famous movie star Kageyama Tobio? Don’t you know he’s dating Shoyo?”
“Is it true your movie flopped so hard you’ve got nothing better to do?”
The questions came rapid-fire, relentless as the flashes. Oikawa’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding audibly. He backed away from the paparazzo, shielding his face with a hand.
“Get that camera out of my face!” he snapped, spinning on his heel and bolting toward the end of the alley.
He didn’t stop running until he turned a corner, finally leaving the intruder behind. He slumped against the nearest wall, catching his breath.
But the sting of humiliation burned hotter than his exhaustion. His carefully curated image, his pride—shattered.
“Tch,” he muttered, glaring down at the scuffed tips of his designer shoes.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking his sulk. He pulled it out, unlocking it with a swipe.
A text from Iwaizumi Hajime stared back at him.
“I thought I told you to stop messing with that actor?”
Beneath the message was a link.
BREAKING — World-famous actor-turned-director caught sneaking onto world-famous pop star Shoyo’s music-video set in an attempt to rekindle romance with ex-world-famous movie star Kageyama Tobio
Oikawa let out a groan that could’ve rattled the heavens. He rolled his head back, thunking it against the wall with a dull thud.
“Kageyama Tobio is the absolute worst!” he declared to no one in particular, his voice echoing in the empty alleyway.
“Aone-san!” Hinata called out, his voice brimming with urgency as he ran forward. Aone and Atsumu had just stepped into view, their composed demeanor a stark contrast to Hinata’s wide-eyed panic. His boyfriend, Kageyama Tobio, trailed behind him, his brows furrowed.
“Is it true? I just saw an article saying Oikawa tried to sneak onto the music set!” Hinata continued, coming to a stop in front of them.
Aone’s expression softened as he glanced down at the pop star, but he quickly turned his stoic gaze to Atsumu, who smirked knowingly.
“Don’t be silly, Shoyo,” Atsumu said, reaching out to ruffle Hinata’s hair like one might a younger sibling. “Nothing happened here.”
“Really? Because the article said—”
“I didn’t see Oikawa recently. Did you?” Atsumu interrupted smoothly, turning to Aone with a raised brow.
“No,” Aone replied without missing a beat, his tone even.
“That’s a relief,” Hinata said, exhaling and flashing a bright, trusting smile.
“Places, people!” the director’s voice boomed from the set, jolting Hinata into action.
“Break’s over! Gotta go!” Hinata chirped, spinning on his heel and jogging back toward the set, his energy as uncontainable as ever.
Kageyama moved to follow him, his usual protective instinct kicking in, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. He turned to find Atsumu standing there, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin.
“We totally just threw out Oikawa,” Atsumu murmured, his voice low enough to avoid carrying. “Oh, and I called the paps beforehand to make sure they caught every second of it.”
Kageyama blinked, caught off guard by the confession. His mind conjured the image of Oikawa being unceremoniously tossed out, and a faint flicker of amusement danced across his features.
“Why are you telling me this and not Shoyo?” Kageyama asked, leaning forward slightly, his voice laced with curiosity.
Atsumu chuckled, a low, mischievous sound. “Ah, you know how Shoyo-kun is. He’d get all worked up about it—probably apologize to Oikawa or something ridiculous like that.”
Kageyama let out a soft huff, glancing over at Hinata, who was already on set, his vibrant energy captivating everyone around him.
“I suppose,” Kageyama muttered, shaking his head slightly but unable to suppress the faint smirk that tugged at his lips.
“And besides,” Atsumu leaned in closer, his expression darkening with a menacing edge. “You’re going to meet the same fate if you ever step out of line and hurt Shoyo again.”
Kageyama tensed immediately, his shoulders stiffening as he locked eyes with Atsumu. The sharp gleam in the manager’s gaze was almost daring him to make a mistake, as if he was itching for an excuse to “handle him.”
“I—I wouldn’t…” Kageyama stammered, his voice faltering as his gaze darted between Atsumu’s unhinged smirk and Aone’s cold, piercing stare. It was impossible to decide which one was more terrifying—the fiery promise of retribution in Atsumu’s eyes or the unspoken warning etched in Aone’s silence.
“I certainly hope not,” Atsumu said, clapping a hand on Kageyama’s shoulder with a casualness that belied his intent. His grin, however, told a different story—he was hoping, almost eagerly, for Kageyama to screw up.
“Places, people!” the director’s voice rang out, shattering the tense moment.
“Oh!” Atsumu exclaimed, his grin broadening into something deceptively cheerful. “Get out there and put on a good show... or else.” His words hung in the air, lighthearted in tone but weighted with unmistakable threat.
Kageyama swallowed hard, giving a stiff nod before turning on his heel and heading back to the set. His steps felt heavy, but he forced himself to focus as he took his place next to Shoyo.
For Shoyo’s music video, Kageyama delivered the performance of a lifetime. Every move, every expression, every line was flawlessly executed.
Not because he was terrified or anything.
Not at all.
Hinata and Kageyama stepped onto the red carpet together, their first public appearance as a pair since their infamous breakup. The air buzzed with excitement, and the cameras went wild, the sea of flashes almost blinding.
Tonight marked the premiere of Kageyama’s highly anticipated action movie, but the spectacle on the red carpet was stealing the show.
Reporters shouted over one another, their voices rising above the chaos:
“Shoyo, how does it feel to be back with Kageyama Tobio?”
“Kageyama, is it true you cheated on Oikawa because you couldn’t get over Shoyo?”
“Shoyo, are all your songs really about Kageyama Tobio?”
Hinata blinked, overwhelmed by the barrage of questions, but before he could respond, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
“Well, well, well,” came the unmistakable drawl of world-famous interviewer and talk-show host Satori Tendou, who stepped forward with his signature mischievous grin. “Look at this.”
“Uaaaaah!” Hinata squealed in delight, momentarily forgetting the cameras. “World-famous interviewer and show-host Satori Tendou!”
Tendou chuckled, leaning in closer with an exaggerated pout. “I must say, I’m hurt…”
Hinata’s eyes widened, his excitement shifting to concern, while Kageyama remained stoic, his sharp gaze fixed ahead as though tuning everything out.
Tendou continued, his theatrics dialed to full. “I interviewed both of you ages ago and asked—point-blank—if you were together. And what did you do? You denied it. Lied straight to my face!” He sighed dramatically, clutching his chest. “I’m wounded, truly.”
Hinata flushed, fumbling for words. “I—I’m sorry, Tendou-san! We had to keep it a secret at the time, right, Tobio?”
Kageyama, unbothered by the scene, gave a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah.”
Tendou’s grin stretched even wider, his enthusiasm practically spilling over. “Ah, I see. A secret romance, forbidden love—it’s almost too good to be true!” He gestured dramatically toward the cameras. “Ladies and gentlemen, aren’t they a dream?”
Hinata blinked up at Kageyama, his expression conflicted. “I do feel bad about lying to him, though,” he sighed softly.
“You should,” Tendou teased, his tone playful but laced with curiosity. “In fact, you should make it up to me by telling me something juicy.” He leaned in with a sly grin, his eyes practically sparkling with anticipation.
Hinata glanced at Kageyama, shuffling nervously. “Well… I don’t know if there’s anything we can tell—”
Kageyama, stoic as ever, looked down at Hinata and interrupted, his voice calm and unbothered. “You can tell him about our engagement.”
The air seemed to freeze.
Hinata’s eyes shot wide open, his face turning an impressive shade of red. “Tobio! We weren’t supposed to say anything—”
“Engaged?” Tendou cut in, his jaw dropping as his eyes darted between the two. “Did I hear that correctly?”
Kageyama, as unflappable as ever, nodded once, as though confirming the simplest fact in the world. “Yes, we’re engaged,” he said plainly, as if announcing the weather forecast.
Tendou’s disbelief was palpable, his mouth opening and closing in stunned silence.
Meanwhile, Hinata seemed to short-circuit entirely, his mouth fumbling for words that wouldn’t come.
Kageyama reached for Hinata’s hand, giving it a firm but gentle tug. “Let’s head inside,” he murmured, steering the dazed pop star down the red carpet.
Tendou stood rooted in place, watching the couple retreat, his expression slowly shifting from shock to elation. Turning back to the cameras with a devilish smirk, he adjusted his mic.
“Well, folks,” he began, savoring the moment. “You heard it here first—Kageyama Tobio and Hinata Shoyo… engaged! ”
"In the distance, Hinata Shoyo's voice rang out, calling to his fiancé.
'That wasn’t in the script!'"
“What’s wrong, Suga?” Head of Security Daichi asked for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice tinged with concern as Sugawara sobbed uncontrollably.
Daichi glanced over the tablet in Sugawara’s trembling hands, catching the glaring headline:
BREAKING NEWS — World-Famous Movie Star Kageyama Tobio and Global Pop Sensation Hinata Shoyo Announce Engagement.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Daichi muttered with a mix of exasperation and frustration. Without another word, he hauled the teary-eyed manager to his feet.
Before Sugawara could even register what was happening, Daichi cupped his face and kissed him. Fierce and intense, the kiss spoke volumes—possessive, passionate, and filled with emotions Daichi had clearly held back for far too long.
Sugawara stiffened in shock, his breath catching, but the warmth and conviction in Daichi’s embrace melted his resistance. Slowly, he surrendered, his hands tentatively gripping Daichi’s shirt as he leaned in.
When they finally pulled apart, Sugawara stared up at Daichi, his face a mix of confusion and lingering tears.
“Daichi… what—”
“For once,” Daichi interrupted, his voice softer now, his lips curving into a warm smile, “I want you to stop worrying about those two idiots and look at what’s right in front of you.”
Sugawara blinked, his stormy grey eyes searching Daichi’s for answers. Slowly, the confusion faded, replaced by something softer, warmer—a realization that had been right in front of him all along.
“Okay,” Sugawara whispered, his voice trembling but sure.
This time, it was Sugawara who closed the distance, letting Daichi pull him into another kiss. This one was slower, sweeter—a promise of something new, something better.
The tablet, headline still blazing, clattered to the floor, forgotten as the two held each other tightly.
The dry heat beaming down on the Music Festival was relentless, pressing down on the sprawling festival grounds, but it was nothing compared to the energy radiating from Hinata. He was practically vibrating with excitement, his fiery hair bouncing slightly as he craned his neck to catch every glimpse of the stage.
Backstage was bustling, but Hinata’s enthusiasm was a spectacle of its own. His fiancé, Kageyama, stood beside him, gripping his hand—not as a romantic gesture, but as a clear attempt to keep the pop star from rushing headlong onto the stage.
“Thanks for giving us backstage passes, Akaashi-san!” Hinata exclaimed, his voice cutting through the hum of conversation and music. His wide grin made his freckled face even brighter.
Akaashi smiled softly, the kind of reserved but genuine warmth that came naturally to him. “Of course, Shoyo,” he replied, adjusting his glasses. “But I can’t take all the credit. Kotarou was insistent that his disciple have the best view of his performance.”
Hinata’s eyes sparkled as he watched Bokuto dominate the stage. The world-famous pop star was in his element, commanding the crowd of thousands with every high note and electrifying dance move. Bokuto’s silver hair caught the sunlight, making him look like a shooting star in motion.
“He’s so cool!” Hinata blurted out, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Calm down, dumbass,” Kageyama muttered, tightening his grip on Hinata’s hand. But there was no real edge to his words, only the faintest hint of fond exasperation.
As Bokuto finished the song with a flourish, the crowd erupted into cheers, and Hinata clapped wildly, nearly pulling Kageyama forward in his excitement.
“Kageyama, did you see that?” he shouted, pointing to the stage as if his fiancé had somehow missed it.
“I’m literally right here,” Kageyama deadpanned, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at his lips.
Bokuto stepped forward to the microphone, slightly out of breath, but his boundless energy radiated through the crowd. His usual electric grin was tempered with something softer, something vulnerable, as he called out:
“Bring out my guitar, please.”
A staff member hurried onto the stage, carrying a bright red guitar. The crowd cheered louder, their excitement palpable.
Backstage, Akaashi furrowed his brows, flipping through the papers on his clipboard with growing concern.
“That’s not—”
“This next song,” Bokuto said, his voice breathy but warm, “is one I wrote recently.”
The audience erupted into deafening applause, but Akaashi stiffened, his sharp eyes darting between the stage and his notes.
“What?” he muttered under his breath, watching as Bokuto began tuning the guitar. A shadow of worry passed over his face, and his grip on the clipboard tightened.
Bokuto strummed the first chords, and the sound was hauntingly slow—completely unlike his usual upbeat, high-energy performances. Akaashi’s frown deepened as recognition dawned on him.
“No, no, no,” he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He promised me he wasn’t going to perform this…”
Onstage, Bokuto began to sing, his voice raw and full of emotion:
“I held you close each morning light,
A part of me, my perfect right.
You gave me shape, you gave me shine,
But now I search, and you’re not mine.”
Backstage, Akaashi’s posture slumped in quiet exasperation.
Hinata gasped, his eyes widening in disbelief. “A heartbreak song…” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the distant roar of the crowd.
Beside him, Kageyama stiffened, glancing at Akaashi with newfound concern, now fully understanding what a ‘heartbreak song’ meant. “Akaashi-san,” Kageyama began hesitantly, his deep voice uncharacteristically soft. “I had no idea—”
But Akaashi cut him off with a small shake of his head, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“You were the anchor, my steady ground,
In a world that spins, you held me bound.
Now the winds blow wild, my edges fray,
And I can’t fix what slipped away.”
The audience was captivated, many openly crying as Bokuto poured his heart into the performance. His voice cracked slightly on the higher notes, making the pain in his words feel even more real.
“The song’s not about me,” Akaashi said suddenly, his voice low but steady.
“What?” Hinata blurted out, his shock now palpable. Even Kageyama, usually so reserved, turned to Akaashi with a raised brow.
“It’s not about you?” Hinata stammered, his mind racing with possibilities. “Then… who is it about?”
Akaashi exhaled deeply, his shoulders rising and falling with a mixture of frustration and resignation.
On stage, Bokuto’s voice swelled with a heartbreaking crescendo:
“Oh, you’re gone, and I’m untamed,
The mirror whispers your name.
A silhouette, a faded trace,
No control, just an empty space.”
Akaashi finally looked up, his expression unreadable as he replied, “It’s not a who —it’s a what. ”
Hinata blinked, completely floored. “A what? ”
Kageyama frowned, his stoic demeanor cracking as curiosity overtook him.
Akaashi sighed again, rubbing his temples. “The song…” he muttered, almost as if he didn’t want to say it aloud. “It’s about his favorite hair gel.”
There was a beat of stunned silence as the words sank in.
Hinata’s jaw dropped. “His hair gel?! ”
“I told him it was ridiculous to write about it,” Akaashi said, clearly exasperated. “But he was devastated when they discontinued it. You’d think he lost a limb.”
Back on stage, Bokuto played the final, sorrowful notes, oblivious to the chaos he was causing backstage. The crowd erupted into a mix of sobs and applause, moved to tears by what they thought was the most devastating love song of the decade.
"The nights feel colder, the stars less bright,
Without your hold, I’ve lost my fight.
Every strand falls out of place,
A masterpiece turned to disgrace."
Hinata blinked, unsure whether to laugh or cry. “I can’t believe this…”
Kageyama let out a low grunt, crossing his arms. “Music-industry people are weird,” he muttered, but even he couldn’t hide the faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Akaashi just sighed, watching Bokuto bask in the crowd’s emotional response. “This is my life,” he said flatly, but there was an unmistakable flicker of affection in his eyes.
It was billed as the wedding of the century , a spectacle fit for two of the industry’s most famous names. The air was electric with cheers as Kageyama and Hinata sprinted hand in hand down the aisle, showered in a flurry of white rose petals and glimmers of gold confetti. The crowd erupted in applause, fans and close friends alike basking in the joy radiating from the couple.
Hinata, beaming brighter than the afternoon sun, waved enthusiastically to the crowd. His fiery hair caught the light as if it were ablaze, and his grin—so wide it could split his face—seemed to draw even more cheers. Kageyama, ever stoic yet unmistakably glowing with pride, couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he led Hinata toward the waiting limo.
The car was sleek, polished to perfection, and decked out in "Just Married" decorations. As the door shut behind them, muffling the jubilant noise of the crowd, the world outside seemed to fade.
Hinata was still waving out the tinted window, his free hand clasped tightly in Kageyama’s. His fingers were warm and slightly calloused, a reminder of the countless hours he spent strumming his guitar.
Kageyama turned to him, his dark eyes softening as he watched the unabashed joy on his new husband’s face. His heart swelled in a way that almost annoyed him. Almost.
“You better not write a song about this,” Kageyama muttered, breaking the moment with a gruff tone that was betrayed by the faintest smirk.
Hinata turned to him, his amber eyes glinting with mischief. “No promises,” he said with a grin that was equal parts playful and defiant.
Kageyama sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked away, but not before a chuckle slipped out.
As the limo sped away from the venue, with the soft hum of the engine filling the space, Kageyama couldn’t take his eyes off him. Hinata leaned back in his seat, still glowing, his hand never leaving Kageyama’s.
Hinata did release a song about it. It had become an instant sensation. It was dubbed the Wedding Song of the Year and it topped charts worldwide.
Kageyama, of course, pretended to be annoyed by the whole thing. But Hinata caught him humming the melody more than once.
The song was titled ‘Happy Ending’.