Reader discretion is advised. If you think you may be triggered by self harm and injury, please, do NOT feel you need to read this.
Otherwise, please enjoy my 3am writing.
The whispers floated around everywhere, following the boy's volleyball team like a trail of deadly smoke.
They were just as confused as everyone around them. They didn't know what had happened, what was going on. They didn't know if he was just sick, or if he was injured. He would have told them if he was, wouldn't he? He wouldn't leave them wondering if he was okay.
Yes, it was only Monday, but it was still strange. He hadn't been present on Friday the week before, either.
But then.
Opening up wasn't his strong suit.
Morning training, the following day.
The balls slam into the ground on the other side of the court, one after the other, as Kageyama and Sugawara toss the balls to the others, quickly, efficiently.
"Alright, one round of diving receives!" Coach Ukai yells.
"Ous!" The team replies in unison.
Halfway around the court, the gym doors slide open, clattering loudly.
Standing there, with puffy, tired eyes, holding a stack of letters in one hand and shaking, is Tsukishima Akiteru.
The team looked at him, confused.
"Akiteru-kun, is there-" Ukai starts.
Just as suddenly as he had appeared, Akiteru slams the door shut, and his footstep slapping against the ground as he sprints off are heard from the gym.
Yachi-san drops the balls she was holding in her arms and runs after him, "Tsukishima-san!"
Out of breath she finds him sitting on the stairs near the club rooms, holding his head in his hands, trying to calm himself down, sniffling.
"Tsu-tsukishima-san?" She asks, approaching carefully.
He looks up, shocked. "Y-yachi-chan! S-sorry about running off..." he apologises.
"It's okay," she smiles. "But… where's Tsukishima-kun?"
Instead of answering, Akiteru sifts through the envelopes, and hands Yachi-san one with her name written on it in neat handwritten kanji.
"It's from Kei." Akiteru says softly, sniffling.
Yachi-san holds it carefully. Gently, she tears open the envelope, scared of what she's going to find enclosed in it.
Dear Yachi-san,
We never really talked much.
I think that I regret it.
I'm sorry, but I had to do this. It was the only way to stop it.
goodbye
- Tsukishima Kei
親愛なる谷地さん、
私たちはあまり話したことはありません。
私はそれを後悔していると思う。
申し訳ありませんが、私はこれをしなければなりませんでした。それを止める唯一の方法だった。
さようなら
- 月島 蛍
Time seemed to stop, everything slowed down. She read it a second time, and a third until she couldn't feel anything.
She looked up and the look on Akiteru's face was enough to know her guess was right.
Tsukishima Kei had committed suicide.
Gently, she takes the stack of envelopes for the team from AKiteru and says, "I'll give them to Ukai. I'm the manager, I have to take responsibility."
She walks away before he can protest, heading straight for the gym.
Entering the gym, she is greeted with everyone looking at her worriedly and expectantly.
She ignores them all and gives the envelopes to Coach Ukai and says quietly so only he and Takeda can hear her say, teary-eyed, "they're from Tsukishima-kun to the team."
They share a look, realising what she meant, what they were.
Ukai takes them off her, quietly thanking her and turning to the team. He has their attention already, as they silently wait for news on what the letters are.
"Please line up to collect your envelope." He is stern, and monotonous. The team doesn't argue.
They receive the envelopes without a word, tearing them open, and reading their letters.
They are all slightly different, depending on each person, but they all knew what had happened.
Yamaguchi was the first to start crying. He was crying after only the first sentence in his letter, almost unable to fully comprehend what Tsukishima'd done, but knowing full well he wasn't coming back.
He wasn't ever going to spike again, he wasn't ever going to breathe, read, or speak again. He would never get to feel the way your body fills with triumph and greatness at stopping the opposition's ace. He would never experience anything ever again.
Soon, the whole room was crying, the teachers silently, and some of the team bawling. Everyone was feeling numb - dead. But no one wanted anything more than Tsukki to walk through the door and say that they were all pathetic and lame for crying.
But he didn't.
So they cried.
Friday , the previous week.
Akiteru had been woken by a loud crash from the bathroom.
Curious as to why his brother was using it at this hour, he got up, and exited his room, walking to the bathroom and knocking on the door.
"Kei, are you okay?" he asks, hand poised to open the door. He didn't get an answer. "Kei?" his voice is now terse with worry. "K-kei, I'm coming in." he announces, pushing the door handle down, and shoving the door open.
"Kei!" He exclaims, shocked. He sees his younger brother slumped over the bath, razor in hand and blood staining the tiles. He was crying, and had already thrown up into the bath.
He was sickly pale and he looked disappointed,
"I couldn't do it… I couldn't do it." he sobs.
Akiteru rushes over to him, and envelopes him in a hug, gently cradling him. "Kei, what are you talking about?" He whispers gently.
"I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it, just like I can't do anything else! I can't block, I can't win, I can't do it!" He screams into his brother's shoulder.
"Kei… Kei, that's not true. You can do so many things. You're so good at so many things."
Tsukishima just continues sobbing.
"How 'bout we wrap up your wrists with some bandages, okay?" Akiteru suggests.
Tsukishima nods, sniffling, too tired, too weak to care.
Akiteru helps him up, and gently guides Kei into Akiteru's room. "I'll be back soon." He says to his younger brother, taking the razor with him, so Tsukishima couldn't hurt himself anymore.
Akiteru thinks for a moment and quickly runs down stairs to the kitchen, where they had a stash of bandages, both from their mother's work as a nurse, and from when, during middle school, Tsukishima had become addicted to cutting. He had scars in most places from it, scars from when he had decided he didn't want to feel anymore, from when he wanted to die.
Quickly, Akiteru grabbed two bundles, and ran back upstairs to Tsukishima.
"Alright Kei, this won't be comfortable-"
"Just do it." He grunts. He'd stopped crying now, he didn't want to think about how he had failed to let everyone have a burden lifted, so instead he thought of all the things he hated.
Being called 'Tsukki"
Yamaguchi's endless chatter
Hinata and Kageyama's stupid and dumb banter
Akiteru trying to help
Sugawara's calmness
Daichi's control, everyone's ability to just do
Volleyball, volleyball, volleyball, volleyball.
There was nothing he hated more volleyball. No. I love volleyball. I love it.
He loves it.
He made a list of things he wouldn't know how to live without.
"Kei, please don't ever do that again." Akiteru begs, holding his hand softly.
"I won't." He replies. "I don't want to go to school today."
"Okay. You can stay in here. Get some rest."
He nods.
"But please, Kei. Please promise me you won't." Akiteru begs, standing in the doorway.
"I… I promise."
He lied.
Sunday night was the end. He decided he didn't want to do anything, it just hurt so much. Or rather, it was more of an incessant buzzing that wouldn't leave, spreading through his body until there was nothing left but a shell.
He had to tell them what happened, so he used up all the envelopes he could find, neatly writing out an apology for those who needed one.
He apologised for everything he had done. He apologised for failing. He apologised for leaving.
He cut his wrists, once again, then his stomach, his legs and ankles. He lay down, and let the blood pour out of him, just like the emotion drained from his mind.
"Kei?" His mother's voice was the last thing he heard before everything went black and static filled his ears. Then, nothing.
"Kei?! KEI!" His mother couldn't see past her son, covered in crimson red that bloomed on his shirt, and had spilled onto the white sheets.
She screamed his name, holding him, trying to find a way to stop the blood flowing. But no. There was no way to save her son. Not anymore. It was too late now. Her son was gone. Her precious firefly would never light another person's life again.
And she cried, and screamed, not caring that she should call the ambulance. They couldn't save him now.
He wouldn't do another thing, and it pained her to see him like this.
To see him peaceful, see him smiling.
I'm sorry this writing was probably very sloppy, but as I said at the beginning, I wrote this at 3 in the morning, so thank you for getting to the end.
Anyway,
Please favourite and review!
Veronyca