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Somewhere in the room had to be clock since it's rhythmical ticking was slowly driving him insane. It was unusual for him to lie awake in silence long enough to even notice a sound like that, but right now there were a lot of things that kept him from falling asleep. At least two out of the people in the room were snoring, for example, and there was a storm raging right outside the window.

Just this morning, his mother had been more excited about his trip than he himself, and when she had said that Tokyo was a city that sleeps, he hadn't bothered thinking much about it. However, now that he was lying awake, hundreds of kilometres away from every place and everyone he knew, he realised what a scary thing that was, sleeplessness. He pitied Tokyo for it.

This evening's food was still sitting heavily on his stomach and causing him even more uneasiness. A part of him wanted to shift around, to toss and turn like he had done when he had been ill and forced to stay in bed all day as a child, but he didn't dare to make such noise. He doubted that anyone would even pay attention to him, but the anxiety in the pit of his stomach made him stay frozen in place. 

There was a small slit between the curtains through which some of the moonlight was making its way into the room, painting eerie shadows all over the walls, making him close his eyes. When he opened them again, though, nothing had changed, and the atmosphere's coldness kept crawling into his bones, making him shiver.

After mustering up his courage, he slowly turned around to face the door instead of the window, hugging his knees tight to his chest in the process. Curling up into a ball was supposed to make him feel warm, but he almost made himself start when his own ice-cold hands touched his legs.

When his focus shifted back to his surrounding, he did start after all as his eyes met the piercing gaze of the boy lying next to him. The moonlight was shining directly onto his face, making him appear even paler than he was. Kageyama's first impulse was to hide completely beneath his blanket, but something about the warm green in the other's eyes made him hold on.

There were a lot of boys gathered in this room, all of them excellent and promising athletes, but there was only a handful of whom he had already memorised names and positions. Miya Atsumu was one of them. Maybe because of his pretty eyes, too, but mostly because he was a setter and apparently a good one; at least good enough to have been featured in Volleyball Monthly right next to Kageyama himself.

"Can't fall asleep, huh?" Miya whispered.

For a moment, Kageyama felt like looking left and right and behind him just to check if it was really him the other was talking to. He knew that it was silly, though, and nodded reluctantly instead.

"Nervous?" Miya asked with a smile playing around the corners of his mouth, and Kageyama wasn't sure whether it was supposed to be friendly or mocking.

"Why should I be?" he replied with a frown.

"First time this far away from home.. alone?" Miya suggested.

"As if," Kageyama said and narrowed his eyes a bit, "It's only the first night."

"The first night is always the hardest," Miya responded thoughtfully, "And you're cold."

Before Kageyama could respond anything, Miya had already moved closer to him. Instinctively, one of his hands shot out from beneath his blanket and grabbed Miya's arm before the other could touch him. 

"I-I'm not," he eventually responded, not even sure why he was denying the obvious.

"Well, if you say so," Miya replied with perked up eyebrows, "You must be undead then, I guess, telling from how cold your hand is."

Flustered, Kageyama immediately loosened his grip around the other's arm and bashfully averted his gaze. Somehow the whole situation felt surreal to him. He didn't understand Miya's intentions at all, and the fact that he wasn't wary despite that, made the alarm bells in his head ring.

The last time he had found himself drawn to someone like Miya, it hadn't ended exactly well, and he should've learned from it. But he was older and smarter now than he had been in middle school, and they were meeting each other at eye level. 

"Scoot over," Miya whispered and interrupted Kageyama's thought process.

"Scoot over?" he repeated mindlessly but understood the moment Miya shuffled closer and lifted his blanket up.

Cold air was making Kageyama's skin crawl, but with a warm body suddenly pressed close to his and a second blanket on top of his own, he could relax again just a few seconds later. Shortly after, the realisation that he was now sharing a futon designed for one person with an almost stranger in a room full of other teenage boys made him tense again, though.

Kageyama felt Miya's warm breath at the back of his neck as he chuckled softly, and wondered what the others would think if they saw them like this, and what they would say, too. However, oddly, nothing about this situation was actually uncomfortable to him, there was just a lingering fear of any uncomfortable situation that might arise from it. Miya seemed to be the kind of guy who would handle that with ease, though.

And usually Kageyama wasn't one to worry about these things, and he was tired, so any protest coming from him now would be weak anyway. In fact, he liked the feeling of being embraced and the warm glow slowly seeping into his body from behind. He liked the way Miya had tangled their legs together and was trying to warm his feet as well, and he liked the long and lithe finger interlocking with his own.

It was probably way past midnight by now, and Kageyama felt the tiredness overcome him just as fast as he grew accustomed to his new situation. And eventually, Miya's rhythmical breathing right next to his ear slowly lulled him to sleep.