Velvet Shadows The fall and the rise

The morning was too quiet.

Sunlight dripped like honey through the gauzy curtains of the small bedroom. Shōyō Hinata stirred, face buried in the pillow, sweat already prickling under his shirt from the early heat. His eyes fluttered open as a dull ache pulsed down his right leg.

The same pain. Every morning.

He sat up slowly, muscles creaking like an old door, and let the blanket fall away. His shirt rode up as he swung his legs over the bed — and there it was.

The scar.

It stretched like a cruel reminder from the top of his upper thigh all the way down past his knee to his ankle, jagged and uneven. The skin was pale, tight, and rough around the edges. He stared at it, unmoving, chest clenching with the memory.

He hadn’t cried the day it happened. Not when he heard the crack of bone. Not when the medics screamed for someone to stop the bleeding. Not when he woke up and the doctor told him he’d never play volleyball competitively again.

But now, years later, tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

He reached out and traced the scar gently. He still walked with a slight rock in his step — not from pain anymore, but from the imbalance the fall had left him with. He could hide it most days. But it was still there. The reminder. The shame.

He took a breath.

Then stood. Slowly. Carefully. His feet touched the cool floor as he padded out of the bedroom and into the hallway, each step silent except for the quiet rhythm of his slightly uneven gait.

The apartment smelled like grilled cheese and green tea.

Sugawara

Morning *smile*

Hinata looked up.

Suga was already at the dining table in a soft robe, belly round and glowing under the morning sun. His silver-blond hair was tied into a loose bun, and little Hotaru — their one-year-old son — sat in a highchair, swinging his feet happily as his Papa spoon-fed him mashed tofu and rice.

Daichi was in the kitchen, flipping pancakes and humming under his breath. The scent of sandalwood and calm Alpha pheromones drifted through the room, grounding everything.

A cup of tea waited at Hinata’s usual seat.

He slid into it quietly, wrapped his hands around the mug, and took a long sip. The warmth settled into his chest like a hug.

But his scent was off. Sugawara noticed instantly.

Sugawara

... Rough night?

Hinata Shoyo

No... Just thinking

Daichi

About?

Daichi glanced over from the stove.

Hinata set the mug down slowly. He was quiet for a beat too long. Then he inhaled deeply through his nose.

Hinata Shoyo

I want to look for a job...

Both of them froze.

Hotaru smacked his spoon on the tray, giggling.

Daichi

You don’t have to do that right now

Daichi said carefully, coming to the table and sitting beside his husband.

Daichi

We told you — You have time... You're healing

Hinata Shoyo

I've been healing for years

Hinata’s jaw clenched.

Sugawara tilted his head.

Sugawara

It’s not about money, you know. We’ve got you. And Hotaru loves having you around.

Hinata Shoyo

I love being here...

Hinata muttered while smiling down at Hotaru,

Hinata Shoyo

But I need to do something... anything... I don't wanna feel like... like I'm just existing. I wanna be useful again...

A long pause

Sugawara sighed, resting a hand on his belly.

Sugawara

Alright. If this is what you want. You know we got your back.

Daichi nodded

Daichi

We'll help you however we can

Hinata's shoulders visibly relaxed

WEEKS LATER

Nothing camr

No callbacks. No interviews. No one wanted a Rare Omega, especially not one with a limp and a history of athletic trauma. Even scent-suppressed and legally marked as safe, employers turned him away.

He filled out online forms in the evenings. Got used to rejection. Drank tea alone while Daichi and Suga put Hotaru to bed.

Until one afternoon, his phone buzzed.

Yachi Hitoka

📲 Yachi: Found something, Meet me tonight, might be a little weird, but you'll get money 💰🤑

Hinata Shoyo

...

Hinata hesitated but gave in

He went. He had nothing left to lose.

Yachi waited at a dim bar lounge just outside Shinjuku, tapping her acrylic nails against a sticky table, dressed in black with a bold red lip. The bar lights glowed like cherries, sultry and inviting. The scent of pheromones and cologne clung to the air like velvet.

She slid a flyer across the table.

A cherry-red silhouette. A man on a pole. VELVET SHADOWS. Tokyo’s Elite Male Revue.

Hinata stared.

Hinata Shoyo

You want me to strip?

She shrugged

Yachi Hitoka

I want you to eat, have your own house, and... maybe find something you're good at again

Hinata Shoyo

...

A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Velvet lights swirled. Music thumped like a second heartbeat. The scent of champagne and sweat drifted through the air like smoke.

And Shōyō Hinata flew.

He spun on the pole like he’d been born for it — one hand gripping the cold metal, legs locking mid-air into a perfect split hold. His muscles gleamed under the lights, golden and defined, every movement calculated but effortless. His eyes were lined in soft gold, his lips glossed, his scent sweet and teasing.

The crowd screamed.

Hands reached toward the stage. Money soared into the air like glitter. Bills rained onto the polished floor. Hinata dropped low with a slow grind, arching his back like he was built for sin.

Backstage, Akaashi folded his arms, watching.

Akaashi

Told you he'd be a star

Oikawa sipped his pink martini.

Oikawa

Mm, a little rough around the edges, but he sells innocence. People eat that up.

Nishinoya smirked from the couch

Nishinoya

He's got heart. That's my buddy

Kenma didn’t even look up from his phone but bluntly says

Kenma

He's hot

and Yamaguchi... Yamaguchi hid behind the curtains, blushing furiously

Then the club’s main doors opened.

And everything changed.

A gust of Alpha pheromones swept through the space like a storm. Thick. Sharp. Rare.

People turned. Subtle bows followed.

In stepped Kageyama Tobio. Black suit. Silver ring. Cold eyes. A predator in the wrong place — or maybe the perfect place. Behind him, Bokuto and Kuroo scanned the room, tense and alert. Asahi lingered near the entrance, unmoving, but watchful. And Iwaizumi walked aside Kageyama.

Tsukishima, leaning lazily at the VIP bar, waved a glass of bourbon.