Kageyama gently pokes the yellow tape. Flimsy, but enough to get the message across. He glances up across the tape and towards the cluster of officers scattered about the perimeter. One of them, noticing his gaze, and wanders over. Stress is evident in her eyes and she frowns apologetically.

"Hey, sorry for the inconvenience, this area's under investigation," she tells him.

"Ah, sure. Sorry to bother you," he replies, bowing slightly.

Kageyama knows that a murder case had happened here, even though the officer did not reveal anything to him.

He would, since he was the one who committed it.

The moon casts a tender glow on the sidewalk and the wind smells like wet grass. He draws in a deep breath, enjoying the aura of tranquillity that hangs about the streets. That was the third kill this month, he recalls. He feels like he's in a pretty good mood.

The walk back to his apartment is short and rather uneventful, save for a couple taking late night strolls. An owl hoots in the distance. Humming slightly, Kageyama soon reaches the lobby and tries to wait for the lift patiently. Cold air envelopes him and he can't help but pull the jacket a little tighter. If only the elevator would hurry up, he sighs.

Ding, the sound is pleasant to his ears. He takes a step forward, eager to enter-

"Ah, sorry-"

A rush of orange tumbles into his vision and Kageyama catches the start of a surprised shout. A body rams into his own and the force propels him backwards. For a split second, it seemed as though he is floating, and then oh what thE HECKSOMEBODYHELP-

Pain erupts in his chin and e lays on the cold and unforgiving floor, temporarily immobilised. His ears are ringing and he blinks sluggishly. Black creeps slowly away from his vision and Kageyama blinks again, just for good measure. The realisation that his body is weighted down by another's finally dawns on him.

The other boy groans, pushing himself up slowly. A hand reaches up to rub a rapidly reddening spot on his forehead. Kageyama can't help but notice his eyes, hazel brown and shining in the artificial glow of the lobby lights. His eyes trail down the curve of a sharp nose and comes to rest on the stranger's lips, rosy red and slightly parted. His skin is pale, but with a hint of faded tan, and nearly free of blemish. Kageyama wants to pour brilliant red all over this magnificent canvas of skin. Coat him with the colour of scarlet that would bring out the blinding beauty hidden within.

The stranger scrambles up and the spell is suddenly broken. Flustered, he throws out a 'Sorry, gotta go!' and then stumble-sprints out of the lobby and into the night.

Stunned, Kageyama glares at the retreating back of the guy. How rude! At least help me up, he thinks, complaining. Turning over to prop himself up, something brown catches his eyes. It stands out against the white marble tiles of the lobby floor.

A wallet, huh.

He takes it in his hands, feeling the smooth leather, slightly worn out but generally in good shape. Kageyama would like to examine it further, but the beeping of the elevator interrupts this process. Oh, right. He was obstructing it from closing.

Kageyama rises and hurriedly strides into the elevator. Ah, the warmth feels heavenly. Perhaps he should take a hot shower later and indulge a little.

As the elevator ascended, he leafed through the wallet, finding a driver's license in the process. The name showed says 'HINATA SHOUYOU' typed out in neat, blocked letters. Hinata Shouyou lives a floor above him.

He considers keeping the wallet as a form of retribution for Hinata's rude departure. His good moods convince him otherwise. Kageyama presses the button for the tenth floor.

I'm such a good person, he thinks, then laughs at the irony. Stealing is surprisingly something he feels uncomfortable doing and would rather avoid. He's never stolen anything from the people he killed. In fact, if he wasn't a serial killer, he might even be a model citizen. It's really funny how he would rather kill a person than steal their stuff.

Kageyama ignores the stop at the ninth floor and leaves on the tenth. The address is identical to his, save for the floor number. He finds the apartment with relative ease. At one glance, the shoes all belong to Hinata, though he knows better than to jump the gun when it comes to conclusions.

The ring of the doorbell goes unanswered. Huh, so perhaps Hinata does live alone after all. Kageyama sits down to wait, because Hinata could be planning to take the bus, but is missing his wallet. Good lord, his good mood is turning him into a completely different person, but Hinata could be running back right now with the conviction that he's forgotten it. Hinata could be... Hinata could...

"Hey, hey, wake up." Someone is shaking his body.

Kageyama wills himself awake. How long has he been out? What time is it now? Why must the weather be so cold?

A more pressing issue comes to mind. Ah, yes, the wallet.

"You dropped it," Kageyama hands the wallet over. Hinata's eyes widen in recognition.

"You waited, like, an hour just to return me this?" He gestures wildly, disbelief evident in his voice, "In this horrible weather? Even after I crashed into you?"

Irritated, Kageyama snaps at him, "I'll take the wallet back if you don't want it."

"Woah, not that I'm complaining, thanks a lot!" Hinata grins, moving to unlock his apartment door.

Kageyama stands and scoots out of the way, dusting himself slightly. He was about to take his leave when Hinata called him back.

"Come in and sit for a while, I've got some hot cocoa," he nods towards Kageyama.

Well, hot cocoa in this weather? It's too good an offer to pass up. His fingers are practically frozen stiff from the cold.

He follows Hinata into the apartment, observing the layout of the place. Eyes washing over the area, he identifies the similar structure of this place and his own. He lives directly below, after all. The living room is directly in front of the entrance while the kitchen is to his right. He supposes the bedroom is out of sight, along with any other rooms or bathrooms. The whole place, while not a mess, per se, is definitely not tidy either. Chinese takeout containers are still on the coffee table and the plants on the balcony seem to be wilting-

Hinata's hand comes into view and he swats it away, slightly annoyed.

"What the heck," he starts.

"Your name is what. I can't keep calling you 'guy whom I ran over', even if that sounds nice in my mind," Hinata says, "Stop judging the tidiness of my house and answer me already."

"I wasn't," Kageyama lied.

"You so were."

"I so wasn't."

"You were."

"I said I wasn't!" Kageyama added a "Dumbass." under his breath for good measure.

Hinata waved dismissively. "You're gonna introduce yourself or what?"

"...Kageyama. Kageyama Tobio."

Hinata hums appreciatively and tests it out a few times. Kageyama groans. Honestly, that sounds so embarrassing coming from his mouth. Why is he even here in the first place?

"Ah, the hot cocoa is ready," Hinata interrupts his internal lament cheerfully and makes his way into the kitchen while Kageyama busies himself with the only bookshelf in sight. Scanning across the various covers, he is pleased to discover that Hinata has a love for volleyball as well. Before he made himself into a killer, volleyball was his everything. Even now, the sport still has a special place in his heart.

Hinata shuffles over precariously and hands a mug to Kageyama, who accepts it gratefully. Noticing the taller boy's obvious interest, his eyes lit up with excitement.

"You like volleyball too?"

Kageyama nods, "I used to treat volleyball as though it was oxygen. Played it in school last time."

Hinata hums, saying, "If I weren't so busy with life I'd be a volleyball player now, on my way to the Olympics."

At this, Kageyama does a double take. "How old are you? You can't possibly be older than fifteen."

"What did you say?" Hinata screeches, offended, "I'll have you know that I'm eighteen! Eighteen years old!"

Kageyama sniggers, "You're way too short. I'm eighteen too, by the way."

If looks could kill, Kageyama might as well drop dead right now. It's rather obvious that Hinata is decidedly jealous about Kageyama's tall build. The cocoa is getting cold, though, so he returns his attention to the mug. They stay in silence for a while more, with Kageyama leafing through some of the volleyball magazines and Hinata sipping his drink.

"Hey, Wanna watch some matches together? I've got a few good ones," Hinata offers suddenly. It's been a long time since he last indulged in this hobby of his, might as well take a break from life and rekindle this flame of passion.

The change on Kageyama's face is immediate. The concentrated frown is replaced by the conspicuous excitement in his eyes in the blink of an eye. However, he still managed a frown of concern as an attempt to be polite.

"Are you sure? It's rather late now. I'd rather not disturb you."

"Don't worry 'bout it. If you need to get back your apartment is in this block anyways, it won't be inconvenient."

Kageyama can't point out any mistake in that logic, so he supposes that staying just a little longer wouldn't hurt. A much more vile part of his mind agrees, seeing that this is a chance to get the feel of this place. Know this boy better. Y'know, those investigations to familiarise with the victim and form a fool-proof plan? Yeah. 'Tis a prime opportunity.

The two settle onto the couch after Hinata had haphazardly pushed away the laundry. He assured Kageyama that they're clean. He just didn't have the time to fold them. By now, Kageyama has already memorised the rough layout of the place. He files it away for future references.

The match Hinata chooses is the nationals two years ago, and as he starts the television Kageyama sighs in content. It had been so long since he last got in touch with the volleyball-loving side of him. All the crimes might have gotten to his head a little.

As the match progresses, Kageyama struggles to fight sleep. The couch is simply so comfy and he's just so tired. It's probably like two in the morning or something. Kageyama steals a glance at his left. Hinata's already passed out, leaning against his shoulder for support.

Hell, he'll apologise and leave tomorrow morning. With the thought in mind, Kageyama finally embraces his much-needed sleep with open arms.