Heyo!

So this one's a bit all over the place - sorry about that. Some context: They have already had the first training camp (the one where Hinata and Kageyama fought) bc I needed them to know each other so for the convenience of the plot there's another one except only Nekoma and Fukurōdani.

SPOILERS UNLESS YOU'RE UP TO DATE WITH THE MANGA.

Summary: Karasuno's been invited on a training camp. Of course everything's going to go exactly to plan and no one's going to find out Hinata's secret. At all. Disabled!Hinata au.

Word count: 3977

Pairing: Mild Kagehina

Warnings: Swearing, very OOC characters

Disclaimer: nope.

Enjoy!

The weekend after what Hinata liked to call 'that time we all yelled a lot,' Kageyama went with him to the shops, to buy various volleyball gear they both needed - kneepads, a pump, the new issue of the magazine and… shorts.

It felt like a date.

This isn't a date, Hinata kept telling himself throughout the day, cheeks burning and hand twitching towards Kageyama's own.

"You can't keep wearing tracksuit pants all the time dumbass," the setter had told him from outside the changeroom, "I like my spikers alive thank you very much."

Hinata almost fell over, halfway into tugging the shorts on, at the 'my spikers' bit.

It's a figure of speech, he reminded himself, this isn't a date.

Shaking his head and pulling the black garment up to his hips, he couldn't help but gaze at the mirror in awe of the fact that he was actually at a point in his life where he could play volleyball wearing shorts.

"Oi why are you taking so long?" came Kageyama's voice through the door, "they're not that hard to put on."

Hinata unlocked the door and opened it a crack. "Come in here if you want to see, I'm not going out where everyone can see me."

Because despite the fact that he could run, walk, jump, receive- do everything people can (his receives might need a bit of work, admittedly), the pitying looks people flash his way feel like they're burning onto his skin, like he's weighed down by his metal leg.

Kageyama came in, and he tried not to look as depressed as the thoughts made him feel.

"They'll be fine," he said, staring into the mirror as well. Hinata was suddenly aware of how really fucking small this cubicle is, "they're good for volleyball - I have the same ones."

This isn't a date, you don't want to hold his hand and you most certainly do not want to kiss him.

(Well, he might.)

(A bit.)

(Maybe.)

Hinata Shōyō turned up for their five am race on Monday in tracksuit pants, and Kageyama was slightly put out, but knew how he felt about people treating him differently, or people seeing his prosthetic, so Kageyama only grinned, called him dumbass for being late and tried desperately to chalk up his racing heart to the exercise.

Hinata Shōyō turned up for his five am race with Kageyama with the feeling of having way too much clothing on. In order to shield his leg from prying eyes, he had put his tracksuit pants on over his shorts and three layers while riding a bike was way too many.

Kageyama won.

(Barely.)

In the locker room, Hinata waited until Kageyama had left to start setting up before taking a deep breath, pulling off his long pants and shoving them into his bag.

When he went down, the only recognition the setter had to his change in attire was a slight smile - one of the rare, non-creepy ones that made his heart squeeze - before immediately setting a ball. Hinata bent at the knees, his thighs tensing before speeding off towards the ball and spiking it down with a loud thwak!

—

"Another training camp? With everyone?!" Hinata exclaimed, making half the class turn to him in surprise. It was lunch time, and Tsukishima had just told him that they were going to a training camp organised by Nekoma to "keep the healthy competition alive," which made Hinata roll his eyes because as if that was ever going to die.

"Unfortunately," Tsukishima drawled, a smirk creeping across his lips, "good luck keeping your little secret while we're there."

Hinata was buzzing as he went back to his seat, feet tapping on the ground and fingers fidgeting on the desk. Once the excitement had settled in, what Tsukishima said resonated in his and something black and awful in his gut started to spread. At first he thought he was dying, but then he recognised it as dread.

Dread, for the feeling of having to train for hours in tracksuit pants, after months and months of wearing shorts.

Dread, for the possibility of someone finding out and laughing, or reporting him, or benching him, or telling everyone or-

Oh god what was he going to do?

The first step would be to find Kageyama. The first step was always to find Kageyama.

Hinata started to rise from his seat when the bell rang.

After school practice it was then.

The period flew by in familiar pain and things he probably should have listened to. This is probably why I'm so bad at school, he thought to himself idly, staring both outside the window and at his reflection.

The ball rang and he shot out of that classroom so fast there weren't any other students out in the hallways yet.

He found Kageyama at the vending machines, and immediately ran up to him, jumping up and putting his hands on the setter's shoulders to assure Hinata had gotten his attention.

Kageyama's head smashed into the vending machine.

Well… Hinata certainly had his attention now.

Without even grabbing the drink he had head-butted the buttons for, Kageyama chased after the overly energetic spiker all the way to the gym, where he took refuge behind Asahi-san, chest heaving and sweat running down his forehead.

"What was that for dumbass?!" Kageyama roared, "you pushed me into a fucking metal box!"

"It was an accident!" Hinata exclaimed squeakily.

There it was. The smile. The one that sent chills slipping down his spine like ice.

"How the fuck could that have been an accident?!"

Hinata chuckled nervously, still hiding. "Well, Tsukishima told me about the training camp and at first I was like bwaa! and aaaAAA! but then I remembered I'd have to wear long pants and long pants really suck and also everyone would get suspicious but I didn't know what to do so I went to find you but the bell rang and-" he took a deep breath, "so I had to sit down and my leg was kinda hurting so I didn't end up listening to anything the teacher said but when class ended I ran out to find you because I thought you'd know what to do so I wanted to get your attention and I ended up jumping on you sorry!"

Kageyama blinked.

"Wait did you say your leg hurt?"

"Was that all you got from that story?" Hinata groaned, "That's nothing special! What about the fact that I'm going to have to hide my prosthetic again?!"

"Oh, yea…"

Daichi put a hand to his chin. "That's true," he mused, "Hinata, do you want anyone to find out?"

He shook his head frantically. "No, no! It was rare enough that you guys treated me the same, but like… that's not gonna be with everyone, ya know?"

"Hiding it is then!"

That afternoon's training session was spent coming up with a plan to hide Hinata's special case - a fool-proof ("you can't say that," Tsukishima added, "if you say it's fool proof the idiot duo won't be able to do it.") story as to why the shorty wasn't able to bath along with everyone else, or why he wasn't wearing shorts in the hot gym, or why he sometimes disappeared for long periods of time in the bathroom (he has embarrassing scars, especially on his legs, and he gets sick extremely easily - in fact, he might just have a cold right now).

And so, Hinata was forced to accept his fate that come Thursday, he was going back to that overheated, sweaty hell.

The only thing keeping him alive was Kageyama's tentative offer of late night practice. Which Daichi shot down immediately of course, but the look they shared reassured him they would find a loophole.

Hinata blushed, and looked away.

—

(Pain.)

Sitting on a bus for god-knows-how-long was not good. For anything. A burning sensation was shooting up his leg, making Hinata grit his teeth and clutch at his pants, the seat, Kageyama - anything - with a white-knuckled grip.

He hated long drives.

Limping off the bus, Hinata planned to get to the room as fast as possible - they were organised by teams luckily - so he could just take the fucking thing off but it turns out Nekoma were heading to practice when they saw the bus pull up, so they had come to greet Karasuno.

(Pain.)

Fuck my life.

"Hey Shōyō," Kenma greeted monotonously.

"H-hey…"

The corners of Kenma's lips turned down. "Are you okay? You look pale."

( . )

"Yea, I just get… carsick," Hinata chuckled humourlessly.

Kageyama's head snapped towards him, before hooking an arm around his shoulders and starting to steer him away.

"He should lie down for a bit," he told Kenma, "I'll take him to the room."

Nodding, the setter went back to Kuroo, who was teasing Tsukishima mercilessly and Kageyama almost wished he could be there to witness it.

Almost.

For now, Hinata was in pain, and he had to get him to the room. Daichi had told him the number and how to get there so, with Hinata leaning heavily on him and orange hair tickling his nose, the pair made their way into the building.

In his mind, Kageyama knew that in order to need a prosthetic, one would have to… y'know, not have a leg, but there was still a flare of panic in his chest when he went away to get a glass of water and came back to Hinata sitting with his back against the wall, digging his knuckles into a stump where his knee should be.

"Here," was all he said, passing the glass of water to him and trying not to spill any.

Hinata winced slightly as he took his hands away. "Thanks."

They sat in silence. It wasn't awkward - Kageyama was too worried for it to be awkward and pain hung around Hinata like haze - but he couldn't help but feel slightly helpless at the whole situation.

Hinata was right next to him, and in unimaginable pain, judging from the scrunched up features, quivering lower lip and tears gathering at the edges of his eyes.

"Is… is there anything I can do?" he asked cautiously, the tips of his ears burning red at how he sounded.

It was something open and worried and so unlike Kageyama Tobio that he wanted to scream.

Hinata looked up at him. "You… don't happen to have any heat-cold packs on you, would you?"

Kageyama shook him head. "Sorry, I left them all on the bus."

"Oh."

Silence, save for the odd sharp intake of breath from the boy sitting next to him who managed to play volleyball better than anyone he had ever seen - yes it was true and he will fight anyone who disagrees with him - with one fucking leg.

He couldn't- it was just- holy fuck wow.

"…The freezer in the kitchen might have ice," he said after a bit, "I'll go check."

Hinata smiled, and it burned into his back as he turned around and exited the room.

The freezer did in fact have ice. He wrapped some of the cubes in a plastic bag and tied it with a fairly shitty knot before bringing it back to Hinata, who smiled - like the fucking sun, he might add - and pressed it to the stump with a hiss.

They sat like that for a while, and Kageyama's chest grew strangely lighter with each crease that vanished from Hinata's brow. There was a weight against his side, and when he looked down he found that the smaller boy had fallen asleep on him.

The bag of ice was now a bag of water and somewhere in his mind he knew the shitty knot would knot but for some reason he just wanted to stay like this for a while longer.

It was a decision he turned out to regret, as they were both awoken by water splashing onto both of their thighs and seeping into the floor beneath them. Cursing, Kageyama ran out to grab a towel while Hinata rolled away from the puddle, clutching the soggy bag and laughing.

—

Hinata was all geared up and changed by dinner time, regretting everything and hating his tracksuit pants more than ever.

At least there was air con.

"Yo Hinata!" Bokuto called, "heard you got another case of your infamous nausea!"

"I-infamous?" Hinata stuttered, looking over to Kageyama to clarification, who just shrugged.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at the pair. "And where were you two all afternoon?"

"Ah~ does Hinata have a knight- sorry, a king in shining armour?" Bokuto smirked.

Before Kageyama could do anything however, they were called over by Daichi.

"Always ruining our fun," Bokuto pouted.

Kuroo shrugged, draping an arm over Kenma's shoulders but was immediatly shrugged off with the excuse of "not now Kuroo, I'm in a boss battle!"

"Are you okay Hinata?" Suga asked as the pair sat down at the end of the table.

"Yea!" Nishinoya added, his mouth full, "you two just darted off like that! Schwoom! No warning."

Hinata nodded, reaching for a piece of meat with his chopsticks before he was stopped short… by another pair of chopsticks.

Kageyama's to be exact.

"It's mine," he said immediately.

"That's bullshit," Kageyama countered.

A silent countdown between them, before they both lunged for the piece of meat arguing that "there's heaps more on other plates, why are you going for this one?!" and "I could ask you the same thing dumbass!"

"At least they're back to normal," Suga chuckled.

—

Morning practice was literally the worst practice Hinata had ever gone to. And that included the ones he held for himself in middle school by himself.

How many times he had been asked why he was wearing tracksuit pants (this happened last training camp too): I

How many times if he wanted to borrow their spare shorts:

How many times he had been asked if he was okay: too many to fucking count.

The penalty of flying falls was still in place, which - although they didn't lose quite as much as they did last time - just about murdered every single nerve ending in his leg, and he didn't know how they didn't find him out just from the awful metallic thump-clunk! his leg made with every fall.

(The late-night practices were Kageyama were good though, it was just like their 5 am practices except much cooler because they were in a really big gym. Technically it wasn't the middle fo the night, so they weren't disobeying Daichi but the best part was that Hinata could wear shorts!)

On the last night, everyone had pushed everyone else into staying up way too late for how impossibly tired they all were, but they figured hey! only one practice match tomorrow and then it's all over, so at least we only have to be dead on our feet for one!

Which meant Hinata couldn't slip away to take his prosthetic off, and he had used up the amount of bathroom breaks it was socially acceptable to take within two hours, so he was stuck.

(Pain.)

The - for lack of a better word - party - there was no better word because that's exactly what it fucking was - had stopped being fun ages ago - Hinata was far too preoccupied with making sure his pants didn't ride up or no one jostled him too hard and it was almost 2 am and he was so fucking tired.

That's when coach Nekoma burst through the door. "What are you kids doing up? There's still matches tomorrow! Go to bed!"

My saviour!

And so, grumbling and groaning, the volleyball players said their goodnights and crashed almost immediately after they stopped moving.

Hinata woke up to silence.

It felt like he hadn't slept at all and it was horrible. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw that there was no one else in the room - just discarded blankets and clothes strewn across the room.

Panic bubbled up in his throat at the thought that he was potentially gonna miss breakfast and he quickly ran over to his bag and pulled fresh clothes on, not even registering what colour or what they had on them, just that he needed to get downstairs.

There was no way in hell he was gonna play a match on an empty stomach after last night.

After Hinata had put his prosthetic on, he hobbled/ran with his eyes half-closed, his brain only allowing him to think of one thing - get to breakfast.

(Which, in retrospect, was a really dumb one thing to focus on.)

Throwing open the door with a loud bang!,Hinata stumbled into the room. "Di' I miss anyfin'?" he slurred, rubbing his eyes.

When he drew his hand away, he noticed everyone staring at him in various stages of shock - slack jawed, wide-eyed, scream-building shock, and Hinata didn't understand why until he looked down.

He was wearing shorts.

Something acidic and deadly dropped down to his stomach, eroding away at him and sending ricochets up his spine.

This was bad.

Oh this was very, very bad.

Hinata stood there for a split second before doing the first thing his sleep-addled mind could think of.

He ran the fuck away.

Back upstairs, back into Karasuno's room and back under the covers, where he could pretend nothing happened and everything was fine.

At least for now.

—

Everyone was staring at the spot Hinata stood in not three seconds ago, a stunned silence settling over them like a blanket.

No one said anything, but then, just quietly:

"What the fuck was that?"

It was Lev, and more whispers soon followed, growing louder and louder as Karasuno exchanged wary looks and Tanaka banged his head on the table.

Kageyama wordlessly got up and followed after Hinata.

No one teased him for it.

"Karasuno!" Bokuto yelled, pointing a finger straight at Asahi, "What the fuck was that?! What's going on?!"

"That's not something we can tell you," Daichi answered diplomatically, "I'm sure Hinata will turn up to the practice match - you'll just have to ask him then."

"What?" Kuroo joined in, "We find out that Chibi-chan has.. has…"

He was interrupted by Kenma pulling his sleeve, making him fall back. "Kuroo, leave it. Let's just ask Shou later."

That might have silenced Kuroo - and the majority of Nekoma - but Bokuto had resorted to yelling at Akaashi, who still remained in the frozen shock state.

Karasuno breathed a collective sigh. This is not how anyone imagined the training camp would go.

—

"Hinata?" Kageyama called as he entered the room, heading over towards the quivering lump of blankets.

"What do you want?" his voice was muffled from all the layers.

"For a start, isn't it hot in there dumbass?"

"What are they saying? Has anyone written me off from volleyball yet?"

Kageyama huffed and leant back. "I don't know. Everyone was mainly just yelling when I left. And swearing."

"Does Kenma hate me?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly, "but I seriously doubt he would hate you over something like this."

"What if the coaches ban me from playing? What if I can't play against Shiratorizawa? What if I'm not allowed to play volleyball any more?"

Kageyama closed his eyes for a count of two. "First of all - you can't be very comfortable like that. Come out."

The bundle shook resolutely.

Fine, have it your way then, he thought, grasping a handful of the thick quilt and jerking it away, revealing Hinata Shōyō with bad bed hair, tears welling up in his eyes and trembling hands.

Kageyama's heart hurt like it was being squeezed, but he didn't know why.

He placed a hand on Hinata's head, ruffling his hair softly. "We, Karasuno's completely fine with it aren't we?"

Hinata nodded under his fingertips.

"So what makes you think everyone else won't?"

"Be-because their faces and… and…"

Kageyama sighed. "Alright, new tactic: why the fuck should you care if they don't like it?"

Hinata's eyes widened in surprise and Kageyama pulled his hand back. "Huh?"

"Dumbass you're playing volleyball at national level with a prosthetic - who the fuck cares if someone else thinks you shouldn't play volleyball? You've definitely more than proven you can."

A small smile. A giggle. "I guess…"

"You guess?" he echoed, "I'm always right. You're Hinata fucking Shōyō, now put your kneepads on or we'll be late to the practice match. If anyone pisses you off just serve it at their head- of wait, that's right. You can't aim."

This time he really did laugh. "Bakageyama! You're meant to be cheering me up!"

"This is me cheering you up - and who said that's what I was doing anyways?"

Hinata pulled on his kneepads and shoved Kageyama with his shoulder before darting out into the hallway, cheeks bright red and hands hiding his face at the fact that not only had he actually gone out of his way to cheer Hinata up, but he had said his first name, and up until now Hinata had thought all those dumb mangas were especially dumb for including the he-said-my-first-name! trope, but he didn't think it was an actual thing holy shit.

They opened the gym doors to find a half-hearted practice with distracted players but everyone still looked incredibly threatening to Hinata and the self-esteem Kageyama (of all people) had built up dropped like a watermelon off a skyscraper.

Then the noise came.

Almost everyone was yelling or shouting but Hinata seriously considered taking a train back to Miyagi when they started running at him.

Being run at by a bunch of tall people who were probably angry at him for deceiving them was really fucking scary. 0/10 would not recommend.

"You are amazing!"

Ok. That's something he wasn't expecting. "What?"

"I agree. Totally," Bokuto told him, "I'm still digesting the fact that your only have one leg though like what the shit-"

"Shōyō," Kenma interrupted, "nice job."

Kuroo ruffled Kenmas hair. "He's so cute, trying to be cool and emotionless like that- I agree though. Never saw it coming."

With a wink, the bickering pair receded into the crowd.

Hinata spent the practice match time answering a billion and one questions - What happened? Do you have to get an extra-long run up? What happens if we put you near a magnet? - but the coaches didn't seem to mind.

He was still in awe of how they were all totally and completely fine with it. He had half his left leg? Who cares!

He was always really shit at keeping secrets anyway.

—

I'm sorry I wrote most of this at like 1 in the morning and couldn't be fucked to edit -_- (Thanks to for looking over it for me tho!)

Please tell me what you thought or if there were any mistakes I made that can be fixed and I hope you have a good day/night/timezone thing.

As always,

Thornsword