Song: Beekeeper- Keaton Henson

Another short chapter, so an early update(;

For a moment, the arboretum was empty of noise, just the sound of a portable fan blowing off somewhere to the right and crickets chirping.

Then, "Where the hell have you been?"

Sugawara Koushi stared at Hinata expectedly, holding a black and white volleyball against his hip.

Avoiding eye contact, Shouyou stared at the soiled tile. Had it gotten messier around here since he'd been away?

"I went to see my family, since it was, you know, break?" Even to him, it sounded like an excuse- and a rude one, at that.

No one spoke.

Finally, when Tobio was about to say something, Hinata asked, "What's with the, uh, jerseys?" He tried to sound upbeat- like nothing had happened.

Koushi scoffed. His entire demeanor was new to Shouyou: spiteful, angry, disappointed.

How had Hinata forgotten? He'd said he wanted to quit the club, that he didn't want anything to do with it, and now everyone hated him, and--

"The club- you know, that thing that you decided to quit- thought it would be fun to have a volleyball match. But not that you'd care, right?"

Even Daichi looked shocked at Suga's words. Everyone knew he was angry at Shouyou for suddenly dropping the club without an explanation and then packing up and leaving, but this side of Suga... It was new to them. "Sugawara, I don't think-" Daichi began, but he was cut off.

"No, Sawamura. If Hinata has something to say, he should stand up for himself on his own." Suga turned towards the small boy, eyes narrowed. "Well? Do you?"

Shouyou didn't even know what to think. He looked around the room for some sort of friendly face, someone to back him up. Daichi was watching Suga; Suga was glaring at Hinata; Yamaguchi was staring at the ground, hands buried in his pockets; Tobio was watching the scene unfold with apparent disinterest.

Shouyou looked to his last resort: Tanaka Ryuunosuke.

His oldest friend wouldn't even look at him.

"Are you guys... Angry at me?" He already knew the answer, knew that he'd fucked every good thing up again. He just needed a reason to not come back. A reason to run away without being missed. A reason to hate himself more than he already did.

Yamaguchi was the one to answer. "I think... It'd be better if you left, Hinata."

And then it was too much. The supposed club volleyball match, the accusing glares that matched his teammates' that night, the boiling heat of the arboretum, the fans-and-crickets silence.

Shouyou took a step back. Fell onto the hard tile, knew that he'd probably have a bruise there later. "Sorry... Sorry... Yeah, I'm going to... I'll go. Sorry. G-good luck on your... The, uh, the game." He propped himself up onto shaking legs, took another step backward, and ran the other way until he reached the front door.

The sound of his friends yelling (at him or each other? He couldn't tell, didn't want to wait to find out) echoed behind him, but he didn't stop running until he was out of breath and far away.

+++

Hinata tried to look around to see where he was. Caught glimpses of what looked like a park, maybe the same one Kageyama had chased him to, but he couldn't tell. Past his heavy breathing and aching legs, his vision refused to settle. Black little dots closed in on him. His lungs tightened.

When his legs could no longer support his weight, Shouyou collapsed to the ground in a weak pile. Snow-coated woodchips clawed at his exposed skin.

He tried to curl up into a ball, but the effort made his lungs burn, tried to call out for help, but his voice was lost behind the scratchy lump in his throat, tried to scream, but ended up letting the darkness surround his vision and the fire tighten around his lungs.

This was what Hinata deserved. He knew it, his mom knew it, Natsu knew it, the club knew it.

This imitational hell was for him, and him alone.