There are too many people out, Kageyama thinks as he’s being tugged across the street, Oikawa’s vice-like grip on his wrist that makes Kageyama curse his misfortune of running into the other setter while he’s out Christmas shopping.
“Not now, Tobio-chan!”
“Oikawa-san, is there something you need?” Kageyama grits out, forcing Oikawa to stop as he attempts to yank his arm back. “I have some shopping to do,” he says, keeping his tone as neutral as possible despite the unfavorable position he’s in.
Oikawa huffs and lets go of his wrist.
“It’s so like you to only come to me if it concerns volleyball,” Oikawa says bitterly. He shoves his hands into his pockets and pins Kageyama with a frown.
Kageyama returns the frown and balls his hands into fists as he glares down. He was aware that Oikawa did not want to have anything to do with him on and off the court, which was fine with Kageyama. He kept that comment to himself and meets Oikawa’s gaze.
“I still have Christmas shop—“
“Well, so do I,” Oikawa cuts in, shooting Kageyama a look before jabbing him in the chest with a finger. Kageyama slaps the offending finger away, consequences be damned. He’s in his second year at Karasuno and the last he’s heard of Oikawa was that he’s attending some university in Tokyo. He shouldn’t be back here of all places, much less when Kageyama is out shopping for non-volleyball related things for once in his life.
“But why here? Why are you here?”
Oikawa rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, he leans against the wall of a store, a scowl apparent on his features.
“It’s the same reason why you’re here. Because it’s Christmas break and I’m home for the holidays. Honestly, Tobio-chan, do you use your brain for anything else other than volleyball? Is your brain in the shape of a volleyball too? It’s certainly won’t be in the same size.” The last part is muttered, but Kageyama hears it nonetheless and bristles at the insult. Kageyama didn’t plan to spend the day before Christmas shopping, but he had gotten a text from his mother a week ago about getting a gift for Kakeru. He had half the mind to ignore it but knew his mother would ask and he was a terrible liar. He briefly wonders if Kakeru is suffering the same fate by his father.
“That doesn’t have anything to do with—” Kageyama says before he’s shoved towards a store, nearly tripping on his feet.
“This store finally opened. C’mon Tobio-chan, don’t just stand there,” Oikawa says. He walks a couple steps ahead of Kageyama, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat again. Kageyama knows that he’s missed his chance of escaping and he wasn’t too keen on dealing with the aftermath of leaving. He sighs to himself and scrabbles for what patience he has left before following the man into the store.
Kageyama is standing in the shoe section, juggling four boxes in his arms as Oikawa preens in front of the mirror. He’s holding two polo tops underneath his chin, eyes locked onto his reflection, his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips.
“I thought you had Christmas shopping to do,” Kageyama says, nearly getting hit in the face with a forest green polo shirt.
“That’s already been done. Not everyone waits until the last moment to shop for gifts, Tobio-Chan. I feel sorry for the recipient already. Let’s just hope they have low standards,” Oikawa says, flashing Kageyama a smirk before picking up the polo shirt and shoving it into Kageyama’s arms despite the boxes he’s carrying.
The retort dies at the tip of his tongue when Kageyama sees them, two familiar faces from behind Oikawa, standing in the men’s clothing section of the store. Kageyama is just about ready to run out of the store to avoid an awkward encounter until Kakeru’s gaze meets his. He flinches and whips his head to the side, ignoring Oikawa’s complaint in favor of looking for an escape route. He misses the moment where Kakeru appears to be doing the same. If anything, one of them could leave and pretend that they didn’t see each other. The opportunity is lost when he hears his name being called and he dares to look back, seeing Haiji wave enthusiastically next to Kakeru, who palms his face.
There’s a nudge to his side and Oikawa is leaning into his personal space, lips pulled into a smile that has Kageyama suppressing a shudder, fear rippling through his bones as he instinctively takes a step back.
“Why don’t you go introduce us?”
“Kakeru…” Kageyama says as the older man utters his name in return as a greeting. It feels like déjà vu when Kageyama was dumped on Aotake’s doorsteps a couple of days ago.
“Come to check out the store too? Kakeru didn’t say anything, but he kept looking over, so I figured we would make a pit stop before getting groceries. I hope curry sounds good to you,” Haiji says with a grin while Kakeru looks away.
“Can I put an egg on it?” Kageyama asks. It wasn’t every day that he got to eat curry. His mom was strict when it came to meals and preferred eating something less heavy. Curry was meant for lazy days in their household and Haiji was a good cook, a pleasant discovery that Kageyama made after his stay at Aotake.
Before Haiji could respond, Kageyama feels Oikawa draping an arm across his shoulder. A wide smile graces his features and despite the happy disposition Oikawa gives off, Kageyama knows that it’s all a lie. He sighs and shrugs the arm off, earning a glare from Oikawa.
“This is Oikawa. I ran into him and I couldn’t run away fast enough,” Kageyama grunts out, ignoring the angry squawk of ‘Rude! Tobio-chan!’
“Don’t be stingy now. I didn’t peg you to have friends outside of Karasuno and who’s the mini Tobio-chan?” Oikawa asks, causing Kakeru to glare at the jab. His words lack heat, but Kageyama is all too aware of the calculating gaze that sweeps over Kakeru form, which spurns a protective instinct within Kageyama.
“Does he play volleyball too?”
“No, he’s—- “
“Haiji. Kiyose Haiji,” Haiji says as he slides up to the front, effectively hiding Kakeru’s scowl from behind. “A fourth year at Kansai University majoring in literature. I’m part of the track team with Kakeru. And you are?” He offers his hand.
Kageyama drowns out Oikawa’s response, all too aware of the annoyance seeping out of him about being brushed off. Their hands are locked together in a handshake that’s a little too firm and Kageyama swears he could see Oikawa’s veins popping out.
“Sorry, about that. He likes to rile people up, but don’t let it get to you. I couldn’t get away quick enough,” Kageyama mutters, looking away from the metaphorical dick measuring contest Oikawa is having with Haiji.
“Then run faster next time,” Kakeru retorts. Like Kageyama, he’s stiff, unsure of what to say next as they stand there, arms glued to their sides with matching scowling faces like a couple of angry, snappy dogs left alone at a dog park. It’s at that moment when Kageyama remembers his original reason for coming out in the first place.
“What’s your shirt size?”
Kakeru blinks and pauses for a moment before eyeing Kageyama warily, whatever thought he has is quickly tossed out as he yanks his track jacket back to show Kageyama the tag. The exchange is cut short when Haiji comes forward and clasps a hand on Kakeru’s shoulder, pulling him back. He shoots Oikawa a bland smile before winking at Kageyama.
“There’s still things we need to get at the market. We wouldn’t want to intrude on your date, but I’ll see you tonight, Kageyama!”
He watches them go without a fuss as Oikawa screeches in the background because they weren’t on a date, Tobio-chan, make sure you sort that out tonight. Kageyama has long forgotten about it by the time he’s back in Kakeru’s room, pulling out the poorly wrapped gift from the bag when the older male went to help Haiji. He shoves the rumpled package under Kakeru’s blankets, knowing that he wouldn’t get to it until later in the night. Kakeru didn’t seem to own many tops that weren’t for running and Kageyama had opted to get him a black polo shirt at Oikawa’s recommendation because if he’s related to you in any form then his fashion sense is severely lacking like yours, Tobio-chan . The forest green polo shirt Oikawa had thrown at him lies at the bottom of the bag. At the very least, Kageyama hopes that Kakeru doesn’t own many polo shirts.