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sonnets-and-snowdrops · 6 years

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We Don’t Need it Anymore

i.e., a Sugawara-centric not-quite-birthday-fic :)

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Pairing: None, really. Kageyama/Suga if you squint, I guess, but it’s supposed to be a senpai/kōhai thing more than a shippy thing. But read it however you want to, of course! Genre: Missing scene, light angst (but with a happy ending, I promise, so don’t worry too much!) Rating: General/All Audiences Word Count: 1k Warnings: None! Summary: Eyyy, it’s my first ever Haikyuu!! fic! Strictly speaking, I *suppose* it’s a birthday fic for my sweet bby Suga, but it isn’t really birthday-themed. Still, the fact that his birthday was yesterday (June 13) isn’t a coincidence. Birthday-themed or not, it’s a nice, little exploration of some Suga feels, and actually, I’ve been meaning to write it for a while now. His birthday just provided the occasion/motivation I needed, I suppose!

This fic is set (ha-ha) during the very beginning of the first season. The first part takes place shortly before Asahi’s return to the team, and the second part takes place shortly after.

ALSO thank you to @imaginarydragonling, both for getting me into Haikyuu!! in the first place and for being a constant pillar of support to me, as a writer and as a human. Love you lots, my friend.

Enjoy! <3

Sugawara Kōshi can hardly believe the words that are coming out of his mouth.

“You don’t need to throw it away, Yamaguchi – it’s fine! If we repair it, we can use it again…!”

He shows Yamaguchi a shaky imitation of his signature smile, but he sees the way his young teammate looks at him. I reacted much too strongly, Suga thinks, his heart sinking. Yamaguchi was only trying to help, after all. And, what’s more, his point is a good one. The broom has snapped clean in two, and pointy splinters protrude at both ends.

It’s dangerous to keep a broom like that around. If they aren’t careful, someone, Suga knows, could get hurt.

But even so, against both safety regulations and his better judgement, Suga tucks the broken broom back in its usual spot in the shadowy corner of the equipment room.

Maybe, just maybe, some former glory can be salvaged from that tired, old broom. Maybe, just maybe, the past will win the day one more time before it’s forced to give way to the future.

***

Suga’s arms and legs are burning with the aftermath of exertion. His heart is still pounding fast, and his emotions are still running happy and high. He’s not sure he’s ever played a more thrilling game in his life. A silly, heartfelt grin springs to his lips at the thought. He never, never in all his years as a volleyball player, believed he’d think something like that about a practice match against a humble neighborhood volleyball association.

He sighs, feeling extremely content, and decides to make his way towards the equipment room; after all, even in the wake of victory, the net must be taken down and folded, and the balls must be returned to their places, and the floors must be swept. Behind him, he hears Noya-san spouting his fiery congratulations to Asahi, who, Suga is certain, must be shaking his head and cowering and holding up his big hands in protest of Noya’s praise. His grin grows as the sound of the familiar banter follows him faintly as he crosses the gym. It feels, Suga thinks, almost as if the good old days have returned with Asahi.

Almost.

When Suga reaches the doorway of the equipment room, he pauses. A tall figure, nearly silhouetted in the gloomy darkness, stands completely still inside. Its back is to Suga, and its head is cocked to the side, as if in confusion.

“…Kageyama-kun?”

The figure turns. In Kageyama’s hands are two halves of a broken broom, and upon his face is a dark, determined frown.

“This is dangerous,” Kageyama says flatly. “Someone should have gotten rid of it when it broke. Why is it still here?”

Suga chews his lip. It isn’t an easy question to answer, even now that Asahi has returned and Noya has decided to put his feelings of anger and hurt to the side. “It’s old,” Suga says in the end. “There is – I mean, there was – some sentimental value to it.” He takes a few slow steps forward and clasps each half of the broom in one hand. “You’re right, Kageyama-kun. We should get rid of it. It isn’t useful anymore.”

He tries to take the broom from Kageyama, but Kageyama maintains a firm, strong grip. Suga’s gaze flickers up to his teammate’s eyes, and much to his surprise, he still sees confusion there. It doesn’t seem to Suga like Kageyama is trying to be difficult – far from it, in fact. Kageyama seems distracted, as if he hasn’t yet realized what Suga is trying to do.

“Kageyama-kun?” Suga tries, hoping that words might break through to Kageyama if actions can’t. “The broom – if I could just – ”

“Sugawara-san.”

Suga hesitates. His grip slackens on the broom. When he looks to Kageyama’s eyes again, he sees that they have cleared. Kageyama looks focused now, sharp and resolute – the way he looks, Suga realizes abruptly, more or less the way he looks when he’s on the volleyball court. “Yes?” he asks. “What is it?”

“The way you tossed to Asahi-san,” Kageyama says. His words come quickly, as if he’s afraid of letting them linger in the air for too long. “It was incredible. I’ve never seen teamwork like that before. And I – I was wondering – ”

And with that, Kageyama drops the broom. Suga only barely manages to keep the broken pieces clutched in his hands, and he gapes, wide-eyed, when Kageyama inclines his whole upper body in the most unexpected bow Suga has ever seen.

“Please,” Kageyama says, voice low and trembling with passion, “teach me how to be a dependable setter like you, Sugawara-senpai! My tosses might be impressive, but they mean nothing if I can’t use them to be a part of a team!”

Suga blinks. For a moment, he can’t find his voice. His gaze slips down to the broken broom in his hands, and then back up to his unbelievably earnest teammate.

And in that moment, there is no doubt, no uncertainty, and no hesitation in Suga’s mind. He knows exactly what he needs to do – for Kageyama, for his team, and for himself.

“Kageyama-kun,” Suga says, the beginnings of another smile starting to play about his lips. “There’s no need for all that. Of course I’ll teach you. Though,” he adds, wondering whether Kageyama will read his next words as sarcasm or brutal honesty, “there really isn’t very much I need to teach an incredible setter like you.”

Kageyama rises. “That isn’t true.” His voice still rings with passion, and his expression is still painfully earnest. “I may be a strong athlete,” he says, “but you are a strong person, Sugawara-senpai. I know you’ll teach me much.” And then, in a gesture that shocks Suga to his core and disarms him completely, Kageyama smiles. “I look forward to it, senpai!”

Suga feels almost dazed as he hears Kagayama’s steady footsteps retreat behind him. He glances down, and sees the sad, splintery broom that he still holds listlessly in his calloused setter’s hands. I really should get rid of it, he thinks. It’s old. It’s broken. We can’t use it the way we used to. We have newer, better brooms that should take its place.

Still, something inside Suga can’t quite stomach the idea of letting go of the past like that. He glances back up, and risks shooting a look over his shoulder, across the gym, to where Kageyama has rejoined the other first-years. Hinata jumps up and down and waves his arms, and Yamaguchi murmurs something meekly to Tsukishima, who promptly slugs Yamaguchi in the arm and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “Shut up” to Suga’s distant ears. And Kageyama, for his part, is keeping to himself. He says nothing, but he seems to glow with a quiet confidence that Suga has never seen in him before. He looks calm, and eager – and a little bit excited, too, if Suga is reading that strange smile on his face properly.

Suga turns back around, back to the broom, back to the dusky shadows of the equipment room. He squares his shoulders. He draws a deep, deep breath. He sets his jaw, and fixes his gaze forward – forward to the big, bright expanse of the gym, and forward to the future, too. He takes step after bold step out of the equipment room, across the hardwood floor of the gym, to the heavy double doors that lead outside. He circles the building, finds the dumpster that sprawls unceremoniously out back, drops both halves of the broom inside it, and then returns to the gym, feeling lighter and freer than he has in days.

A heavy hand falls on his shoulder. “You got rid of it,” Daichi says softly, a questioning look in his dark eye.

“I did.”

“Why?”

“It felt like the right thing to do.”

Daichi rubs his chin in consideration. “I think,” he says, “you’re right.” His gaze alights affectionately on Asahi and Noya, still engaging in their hopeless game of high praise and steadfast refusal on the other side of the gym. “We don’t need it anymore, do we?”

“No,” Suga agrees. His own gaze travels back to Kageyama, who still shines with that strange, silent confidence on the sidelines, even as his fellow first-years continue to shove and shout and banter. “With the team we have now? With the future we’re going to build together? No, Daichi-san. We don’t need it anymore.”

Thanks for reading, friends! I hope you liked it! I might pop this little fic up on the ol’ archive, if it goes over well enough on tumblr. Thoughts?

Also - I went back and forth quite a bit about what to call Suga in this fic. I initially wrote it using “Kōshi” throughout, as it’s written from Suga’s POV, and I can only imagine that Suga thinks of himself using his given name inside his own head - but then, the anime and the manga don’t really give us any insight into this.I decided to roll with “Suga” for this version because it felt... more familiar? Less weird? Eh, something like that. Anywho, point is - I’d welcome any thoughts/suggestions/opinions about this, too!

Thanks again, friends! And happy birthday, Suga-san~! <3

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