The next morning in Miyagi was… weirdly peaceful. No roaring crowd, no squeak of sneakers on a court. Just a clear sky, mild wind, and the faint chatter of a few early-rising shopkeepers.
Karasuno's first years had agreed to meet at the park "for some fresh air," which in Hinata-speak meant, let's go run around like maniacs again.
Akira was already there — sprawled on a bench, hood up, headphones on, sipping from a can of vending-machine coffee that was clearly not doing much to make him look more awake. He'd been people-watching in that low-effort, lazy-cat way that made him seem like he'd been part of the scenery forever.
He looked up when Hinata came jogging over, practically glowing with leftover match energy. "You… look like you just crawled out of bed," Hinata said.
"I did," Akira replied.
"You live five minutes from here."
"Exactly."
Before Hinata could argue, a soft crunch of gravel drew both their attention. Kenma shuffled into view, hands in the pocket of his hoodie, a small bag from the convenience store dangling from his wrist.
"Yo," he said flatly.
"Kenmaaa!" Hinata beamed. "You made it!"
Kenma glanced at Akira, tilting his head ever so slightly. "You look like you slept through an earthquake."
"I did," Akira said again.
Kenma just hummed and sat cross-legged on the grass.
It was about five minutes of idle chatting before it happened.
From somewhere near the fountain, a pigeon strutted into their line of sight. Then another. Then… more. Within moments, there were at least ten pigeons, fanning out in what looked suspiciously like a coordinated formation.
Hinata blinked. "Uh… why are they all… looking at us?"
Akira unwrapped the chip bag he'd been lazily holding on his lap. "Because they want these."
The moment the bag crinkled, the pigeon squad advanced.
"Don't feed them," Kenma said immediately, tone calm but eyes tracking the birds like a seasoned gamer tracking enemy NPCs.
"I wasn't going to—" Akira began, but one pigeon leapt onto the bench beside him, peering into the bag.
Hinata cackled. "Oh my god, it's a raid!"
Two pigeons flanked from the left. Another came in from the back. Akira tried to lazily wave them away but one made a bold lunge, snagging a chip and retreating with a triumphant coo.
"This is war," Hinata announced, grabbing a stray stick and brandishing it like a sword.
Kenma didn't move from his spot, but he did pull out his phone, muttering, "This is better than any match highlight reel…"
Eventually, after a tense standoff (and the loss of about half the chip supply), the pigeon squad retreated — leaving behind a battlefield of crumbs and three very different reactions:
Hinata — energized and weirdly proud.Akira — still leaning back, sipping coffee like nothing happened.Kenma — quietly smirking, thumbs already moving over his phone screen.
"Okay," Kenma said finally. "You two have zero survival instincts."
"Or great survival instincts," Hinata shot back. "We lived."
Akira, without opening his eyes, muttered, "I've faced worse in tournaments."
"Pigeons aren't a sport," Kenma deadpanned.
"Tell that to my chips."
They ended up moving to a quieter part of the park, where Kenma finally opened the bag he'd brought — a portable gaming console and a set of controllers.
Akira raised an eyebrow. "You brought co-op?"
Kenma shrugged. "Figured you'd be too lazy for anything physical."
"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," Akira replied, taking a controller.
Hinata scooted closer. "Wait, wait — can I play too?"
The next two hours were spent locked in battle against a massive virtual boss, Akira and Kenma working in eerie synch despite never having played together before. Hinata kept accidentally aggro-pulling the boss, prompting Kenma to mutter, "Stop being a Hinata," which instantly made Akira choke-laugh.
When they finally won, the victory screen lit up like fireworks.
"Not bad," Kenma said, glancing sideways.
Akira smirked. "You're okay too. Want to team up again sometime?"
Kenma hesitated — just for a second — then pulled out his phone. "Number."
They swapped contacts without ceremony, but something about it felt like the start of a quiet alliance. Hinata immediately demanded both their numbers too, declaring, "Next time, I'm the MVP."
"You pulled the boss into a corner and got us all killed twice," Akira pointed out.
"Details," Hinata said cheerfully.
The sun was high now, the pigeon squad long gone, and the easy warmth of the morning made it feel like the game, the banter, even the ridiculous bird incident had stitched them together in some small, important way.