Beneath the Starless Sky

The city lights twinkled around them, a stark contrast to the darkness that seemed to have consumed Kageyama's soul. Oikawa's presence was a gentle reminder that there were still people who cared, who wanted to help him find his way back to the light. But Kageyama's defenses were still up, his heart guarded against the possibility of getting hurt again. As they sat in silence, Oikawa pulled out a small pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, the flame casting a warm glow on his face. He offered Kageyama one, but he shook his head, his eyes drifting back to the night sky. The stars were hidden behind a veil of clouds, and for a moment, Kageyama felt like he was staring into the abyss, with no hope of finding his way out. Oikawa took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling up into the night air. "You know, Kageyama," he said softly, "I've been thinking a lot about our past, about the games we played, the victories and the losses. And I realized that it wasn't just about winning or losing, it was about the people you shared those moments with." Kageyama's gaze drifted back to Oikawa, his eyes searching for something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. There was a hint of nostalgia in Oikawa's voice, a longing for something that had been lost. "I think that's what you're missing, Kageyama," Oikawa continued, his voice low and soothing. "You're not just missing the thrill of the game, you're missing the people who made it worth playing. Hinata, Tanaka, the others - they're all still there for you, waiting for you to come back." Kageyama snorted, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "You don't understand, Oikawa. I've let them down, I've let myself down. I'm not worthy of their friendship, of their trust." Oikawa's expression softened, and he reached out, placing a gentle hand on Kageyama's shoulder. "That's not true, Kageyama. You're not defined by your mistakes, by your failures. You're defined by the people who care about you, who want to help you get back on your feet." For a moment, Kageyama felt a glimmer of hope, a spark of light in the darkness. But it was quickly extinguished by the weight of his own guilt, his own shame. He shook his head, pulling away from Oikawa's touch. As they sat there in silence, the night air seemed to grow colder, the shadows deepening around them. Kageyama knew that he had a long way to go, that the road to recovery would be fraught with obstacles, with setbacks. But for the first time in weeks, he felt like he wasn't alone, like there was someone who understood him, who wanted to help him find his way back to the light. And as they sat there, beneath the starless sky, Kageyama felt a small sense of peace settle over him, a sense of hope that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was fragile, fleeting, but it was there, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there was always a way forward.