Title: Clockwork Indigo
Pairings: Hinata x Yachi.
Note: Keeping Hinata interesting outside of volleyball is difficult. ;-;

It begins on a Sunday afternoon, when Hinata manages to unearth old photographs of Yachi that are hidden deep inside the desk drawer next to her bedside.

In one photo, she's wearing a white dress, her bangs pinned back with a single red bow. In another—a straw wide brim hat and a big smile as she holds up a flounder she's caught on what he presumes to be a fishing expedition. He peruses through the stack of photos intently until Yachi arrives back in her own room, holding a cup of tea.

Naturally, she shrieks when she realizes Hinata's been snooping around.

He apologizes profusely and makes up some lame excuse about how the photographs were sticking out of her desk in the first place, and Yachi buys it, well—because she's Yachi and she's the closest epitome of unrelenting trust and faith. She surmises her mother must've been organizing things around, and sighs a little when she stuffs the photographs into the back of her desk drawer.

Hinata glances at the blue stars pinning up Yachi's bangs; watches while she brushes a lock of hair behind her ear; exhales when he realizes he's been holding his breath all along.

It's the first time he's lied to her. Hinata feels a little guilty when he catches sight of her smile. Trusting, benevolent.

He scratches his cheek—a kind of involuntary reaction. Something strangely uncharacteristic of him.

"Yachi-san," he says, shaking the thought off. "You know, that red bow looked really good on you!"

A fierce blush crosses her cheeks, and instinctively, she reaches up to touch the blue stars holding her bangs back.

Slowly, she shifts her stare down to her desk, where she's still pouring over a number of unfinished English practice problems. She reaches for another practice set, her fingers motioning to the wrong answer he'd just written down.

A smile, "Maybe we should go over this again, Hinata."

Yachi throws the ball towards the net. Kageyama sets. Hinata spikes.

It's clockwork.

Ticking.

And then.

There's a fly ball racing towards her from the other side of the court. Hinata barely catches sight of it. Throwing out his commitment to the current ball above his head, he runs towards her in a completely, utterly, mad dash, reaches an arm out the block the blow.

But it's too late, and it makes impact, and the sound is devastating.

He watches as the red clip in her hair crashes to the floor, snapping in half.

Yachi is surprised, mortified. Instinctively, she reaches up to touch the red patch of skin underneath her eye where the ball made contact.

"Y-Yachi-san!" Hinata is the first to run towards her.

"Sorry, Yachi-chan!" Tanaka shouts, following up from behind. "Are you okay?

And then. A smile, "I-I'm okay. Thanks."

The area of impact is already beginning to swell, and Yachi manages to hide the deceptively light wound with an ice pack and a towel.

"Oi, pay attention shrimp!" Kageyama calls out when Hinata misses his third spike in a row.

She's brilliant, of course, and he knows that's probably where their paths will eventually diverge. He's the kind of boy who lives in the now—and she's the kind of girl who's always building towards her future.

Hinata breathes in, exhales. Stares out the window beside his desk while spinning his pen between his index and middle finger. Sensei says something about their test results. He thinks maybe if he put in a little more effort, he'd live up to the unattainable expectations Yachi has set to herself.

"Hinata Shoyo."

Sensei hands back his test, sprawled with red ink and x's. But, in the corner—

64.

A wide grin breaks on his face, and he jumps out of his seat, letting out a loud cry of genuine, genuine happiness. He's reprimanded almost immediately by Kageyama, but that's the least of his concerns.

As fate would have it, the bell rings, and he stumbles out of the classroom.

Yachi is surrounded. Despite her almost reserved nature, she's able to make friends with relative ease.

Hinata stares, smiles, relaxes because for a moment, he might've caught himself tensing up at the thought of her being alone in class. He's not sure why he automatically assumes so. Sometimes he tends to forget that she has a life outside of the club.

"Yachi-san!"

Her face lights up when she meets his gaze, even behind the purple bruise underneath her eye socket. He feels guilty; sorry, almost. Even though he isn't the one who'd spiked the ball, he should've been there in time to save her.

Taking the long path around her classmates huddled over her desk, she heads to the doorway, where she catches sight of the test paper in Hinata's hands.

64.

"Nice, Hinata!" She beams. "You improved."

"All thanks to you," he tells her; it's the truth.

Yachi blushes, nods—smiles.

Hinata scratches the back of his head, suddenly feeling very sheepish, "I know it's not that as great as you think, but…"

She shakes her head, "You improved 20 points from last time! That's pretty amazing to me."

He notices Yachi's wearing blue stars in her hair today.

Hinata's gotten over the whole novelty of watching the sunset on the way to school. No, he isn't a morning person, but that's never stopped him from forcing himself to wake up before dawn.

By this time, he usually meets Yachi halfway. She catches the bus, and the stop she gets off is on his route. It's only happenstance that they manage to catch each other.

Being the gentleman he is, Hinata usually dismounts from his bike, walks alongside her, and they head to school together. Nothing ever feels too contrived, and the habit slowly turns into something he looks forward to every night.

Today, the sky is blistering, an outpour of indigo blues, split by a single pink line. It's cold, and the gray clouds overhead look like they're threatening to rain. Hinata puts on a raincoat, heads out, and brings an umbrella just in case.

It's the same routine. The same sense of familiarity.

Yachi. She waves at him from the bus stop; smiles. "Ohayo, Hinata!"

"Ohayo, Yachi-san!"

It's small talk about the volleyball club, schoolwork, and adjusting each other's schedules to study. It's feeling at ease, divulging his thoughts without care, and learning more about the world she knows.

"Your bruise looks better," he points out brightly. It's true; it's almost faded back to normal.

"Y-You think so?" She asks. "Ah, I'm glad."

The truth is, Hinata needs all the help he can get—and that's no secret. He never did have a brilliant mind like Kageyama. All the latter had to do was apply himself. For Hinata, it was a different story. Trying wasn't quite enough sometimes.

"We haven't seen the sun in two days," Hinata pouts, letting out a soft sigh.

We. It's a little triviality he slips up but he doesn't seem to notice. Of course, it's something Yachi picks up on, but she figures it's a slip of the tongue. It's early, after all, and he's probably not in the right mindset yet.

Still.

She stares up at the sky, the blistering wind slapping against her pale skin. The indigo stars holding her bangs back are spinning—

"I have," she says.

Hinata stares at her. Raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Yachi-san?"

"N-never mind! I didn't mean—" She stammers, trying to regain her composure. "I mean, I just—it's not like…"

She trails off. Hinata stares at her with wide eyes, still trying to process what just transpired. He'd probably missed something important.

We haven't seen the sun in two days.

I have.

Then, a smile.

The last picture.

It's Yachi with the Karasuno Volleyball Club. She's standing in between Kiyoko and Hinata.

When he catches sight of this, he raises the picture up into the air against the bright incandescent light, angling it ever so slightly. He's not really sure what he's looking for, but when he catches sight of the blue stars pinned against her head, he smiles.

"Actually, I change my mind. I think blue might suit you better, Yachi-san," he tells her.

She laughs, but motions to the empty practice set sitting between them, "Please try to pay attention, Hinata."