Battles Fought in Silence

by Katsumi27

Yamaguchi Tadashi deals with his anxiety the only way he knows how, alone. (This is about anxiety, so please don't read this if you think you shouldn't (?).) I think its fairly canon that Yamaguchi deals with some level of anxiety on a regular basis, and I wanted to explore that aspect a bit. I don't plan on expanding on this at the moment but maybe if people really like it?

1. Chapter 1

As soon as the teacher declared class over, Yamaguchi pushed away from his desk, muttered 'bathroom' weakly, and walked out of the room, leaving his things behind for the moment. The comment was obviously directed towards Tsukishima, who was the only person in the room to whom he might owe an explanation, but he hadn't made sure he had been heard before rushing out.

His eyes were focused on the ground about two meters in front of him as he walked down the hall. Although, at his speed, perhaps "walked" wasn't quite right. It was right after class so the chances of running into Hinata or Kageyama were quite high. Those two were always the first to head to practice, while he and Tsukishima normally took their time getting there. He prayed he could avoid them, just this once. Somehow he managed to make it to the bathroom without hearing his name called out, but he didn't breathe a sigh of relief until he was safely locked into one of the stalls. In fact, it was entirely possible he hadn't taken a single breath the entire way there.

Yamaguchi was grateful that he didn't really attract attention. He was extremely ordinary-looking, and only slightly on the tall side. He was in the college prep classes, but he wasn't considered a particularly remarkable student either. Teachers called on him as often as they did other students, and he was normally able to give adequate answers.

I'm an idiot for spacing out.

The last class of the day had been literature, the novel they were currently reading wasn't particularly interesting, so he had spaced out, for only a second. It was enough. As soon as he was called on, his heart-rate sped up and he panicked. Where were they in the text? He stammered and picked up a few lines too early, earning him a disapproving look from the teacher. It felt like there was a rock lodged in his throat. Maybe another one in his stomach. He finally picked up from where the last person had left off, but tripped over a few words in his haste. Then his voice cracked. There was a single snicker somewhere to his right, but everything else was silence. Except for the sound of his heart pounding and blood rushing past his eardrums. By the time he was allowed to sit down, his hands were shaking and he refused to look anywhere but the book. He wasn't called on again.

He had somehow managed to pick up his feet and place them on the toilet seat without falling. It was a trick he had learned over the years. It wasn't anything to be proud of. With his arms tightly wrapped around his knees, he curled into himself. Tightness. It was always tightness in his chest, tingling down his arms, on his palms. He couldn't get small enough. His arms couldn't hug his body tight enough, he felt like he might explode. Maybe he would implode instead. Maybe he could disappear that way. He wouldn't have to face his classmates again. Or his teacher.