Passing Advice

Chris x Reader

...

You walked through the office doors and greet the receptionist. You cover your mouth as a yawn hits and scold yourself for staying up later than planned. Making your way to the psychical therapy wing you walk into the scheduled room.

"Good morning Mika."

A girl of about sixteen only moved her eyes to glance your way for a moment before going back to the device in her hand.

"Morning…" she replied. It was an improvement from the days she would just ignore you.

"That game just came out right?"

"Yeah." She tucked straight light brown lock of hair behind her ear.

You internally sighed giving up on conversation. "Let's go ahead and get started with stretches."

Mika nodded putting away her gaming device and coming to lay down on her back on the yoga matt. You motion for her to straighten out the left leg and slowly start to lift it up and then back down and repeat. There was still weakness from her injury but the improvement was evident.

"You're getting stronger. You'll be back on the court in no time."

Mika's expression seemed more pained. "I quit volleyball."

That was a surprise. "I'm sorry to hear that, I thought you loved it?"

"I do. It's just that…"Her voice cracked and you thought she might cry but she suddenly gained back her composure. "There's no point with my leg. Even if it heals… I can't go back to the team."

"Why not?"

"There's no room for a player like me! I abandoned them when tournaments are right around the corner. If my leg never heals I might never be able to play again and I don't know what I'll do." The tears streamed down her face. "Everything sucks and I keep fighting with my parents and friends. Who could love me like this?"

Your heart ached with those words but if you showed her any pity it would only hurt her pride.

"So you chose to get injured?"

Mika sat up and shouted, "Of course not!"

"Than what happened with your leg was out of your control." You make sure to make eye contact and hold your ground. "When I was seventeen I suffered from a sports injury and was told I could never play again."

Mika scoffed. "So you became an athletic physical therapist, how romantic."

You smirk. "Maybe that seems predictable but it's not what I originally wanted. I wanted to go pro but my injury took me out of the game with only a small chance of being able to return to my team. My parents forced me into physical therapy and I fought them because I didn't see a point in it. If I couldn't play at that time than I would rather stayed injured."

The memories started to spring back. A temperamental and self-destructing teenager with no hope. Shattered dreams looming over her like a dark cloud. Your shoulders ached from bearing the weight of letting down your team. They told you it was fine, to focus on healing, they didn't blame you but you blamed yourself.

Your arm in a black sling you waked down the hospital hallway and saw a guy going through physical therapy for his shoulder wrapped in athletic tape. It was hard not to notice him really. His muscles showed an athlete's body with a strong square jaw that could support the entire country of Japan. Brown slicked back hair with a single curl dangling down on each side of his face. This was youth therapy area but was he really around your age? You blush with the realization you're gawking at the Adonis of a man and continue walking down the hallway.

You found yourself purposely walking by that room more often.

Sometimes he was there and some days he wasn't. It started to feel like you were a stalker until you were able to have a normal conversation on that fated day you arrived at the same time. He was, of course, much more intimidating in person in both height and presence. Hazel eyes looked at you and as you thought of something to say he held the door open and motioned for you to go in first. Overtime you became further acquainted during breaks and runs to the drink machine to where you would call him a friend. You learned about his injury, his baseball team, and the other players. At some point you gathered enough courage to ask him to eat lunch with you after both of your sessions and he agreed. The first time went so well it became normal for you to wait for him to finish his therapy before grabbing lunch together.

One day you're given the news you had been waiting a month for. The doctor sits you down, "You're healing," your hopes rise too high, "but if you play again the injury will reoccur causing more pain or even permanently exist without healing properly."

You sit on a bench outside Chris's room trying to get back into your normal routine but your energy was gone. Just when you thought there was a chance. When you thought that you were starting to feel happy again…. You were able to hold everything in until he came out and as soon as he saw you he smiled. Such calm kindness in his eyes. You sink into yourself refusing to look at him.

"I'm not coming to therapy anymore," you tell him. "I'll never be able to play softball again after all."

You can't see his face so you can't see his expression. Was he pitying you? Was he going to leave? They had only known each other for a short time. His tennis shoes moved against the white tile speckled with beige spots and sat on the bench next to you.

"You should still come to therapy to fully heal your injury."

"Why? What's the point? Who could love someone like me?"

You repeated the words he had told you that day to Mika. The words that had helped pick herself up from the ground. Although you did expect the same results it was worth passing on the advice to someone in need.

Still staring into young eyes you offer a gentle smile. "I asked someone the same question and he told me, you need to love yourself first. Right now, you're feeling a disdain for your body and your mind. You might feel trapped by the circumstances but there is more to explore. I can tell you that there are people who love you now family, friends, teammates and you may not believe me. By learning to accept what is happening to you and around you, slowly, overtime the wounds inflicted can heal but you have to put in the effort."

Mika seemed speechless.

You offer a hand out to help her up to continue the next stretch. "Are you willing to get the help you need?"

Mika stared at your hand and then her eyes traveled down to her leg.

"No one can make you do this," you add your final statement.

A hand just a little smaller than yours took hold and she got to her feet. "I'll keep coming to therapy."

Your smile grows. "I look forward to working with you."

…

It's about two months later and you're taking your day off to do something different. The sound of inflated balls smacking off players bare skin or off the shining court greets you as you walk into the high school gym. As you make your way toward the bleachers you spot number 8 practicing serves. She is concentrating and in her element.

Someone calls you by your married name and you scan the seats to see Mika's parents calling you over. When you greet them they urge you to sit next to them for the game and you graciously accept.

"We're glad you could make it. Mika will be so happy," her father stated.

"Thank you for all your hard work to get her here," her mother thanked you again like she had the last time you had met.

A whistle was blown and the players took their places. The game began shortly after and Mika held up like a champ. Her past injury did not inhibit her in the slightest. In the last set a familiar face walked into the stands. You smile at the surprise and stand to wave him down. When he spots you his hazel eyes light up and he smirks as he walks to you. You introduce your husband to Mika's parents and they welcome him happily.

When you sit back down you nudge him. "For a moment I thought you weren't going to be able to make it."

"The team finished early since everyone was excited for our week break." His eyes watched the court. "Which one is your patient?"

"Ex-patient," you correct proudly, "and number 8."

He grabbed your hand to hold. "You did a great job."

You lean into him a little more. "Some of us are lucky enough to chase our dreams and some of us have to change course to find another one."

He squeezed your hand and looks down at you in adoration. "We've come a long way ourselves."

You smirk and feel a warmth spread through you. "We sure have Mr. Baseball Star."

"Whatever you say Dr. Takigawa," he responded.

The final whistle was blown as Mika's team scored the final point and the crowd cheered. As people started to clear out you and Chris walk down with Mika's parents to congratulate her. Mika's surrounded by her team mates and she was full of passion. She jogged toward your group and hugged her parents first and then greeted you.

"I'm glad you could make it," she gave a genuine smile before her eyes wandered over to Chris.

"This is my husband Chris."

He greeted her, "Nice to meet you."

Mika raised an eyebrow at you. "Is he the one?" Questioning the words of advice she had given her all that time ago.

You nod. "Yup."

"You sure snagged a good one," Mika whispered next to you so only you could here before jogging back to her team.

Chris raised a light brown eyebrow. "What was that about?"

You shrug and squeezed his hand. "Just passed off some wise words some baseball player once told me."

…

A/N: These are the stories that I have written for a Tumblr blog by my friends and I. For more stories about other characters feel free to go check it out or request stories.

blog name: too-busy-writing-imagines

Its for sports anime's as of now. Enjoy reading!