chapter one :: unwanted
Everything hurts, and Satsuki can't help but let out a whimper as she tries to open her eyes.
Her fingers spasm at the edge of unfamiliar bed sheets, too thin to be hers, and Satsuki thinks belatedly, slowly, the room is way too cold, the chill pervading into her very bones. She breathes out shakily, and there's a dull pain spreading to her fingertips, an ache that's incredibly difficult to ignore.
...A sense of unease grips at her, and Satsuki finally blinks blearily at an unfamiliar, bleak white ceiling after a long struggle.
Her mind is muddled, and she's drowsy, but... this is not her room.
Beep, beep, beep—
Her dry lips purse as the meaningless background noise gets louder, more in focus, enough to catch her attention. Her blurry vision doesn't help her as her eyes dart to the side, but Satsuki can still make out the strange machines in the corner. She eyes one of them, the one that looks awfully like an ECG, with newfound, increasing alarm.
...Is it actually an ECG?
Satsuki's never been in a hospital bed herself before, but this definitely seems like one. Possibly even the one run by that medical conglomerate that's the closest to her neighborhood, if her memories of visiting Dai-chan have anything to say about it.
Wherever Dai-chan is right now, or if he— Satsuki blinks hard, stopping her wandering thoughts. She's not very lucid if she's letting her mind run away from her. Normally, she would've gotten her thoughts in order, and— Satsuki blinks again, exasperated.
First things first. How did she even end up here?
Satsuki is very careful about taking care of herself; she wouldn't be a very good manager if she wasn't. On top of that, she deals with Dai-chan's awful habits on a pretty much daily basis and keeps track of the health of all the other individualistic players of Touou, with limited success. So, Satsuki doesn't really think she's overestimating herself when she thinks that she wouldn't be the primary instigator of her newfound stay in a hospital, of all places, and of the discomfort setting off most of her nerves.
She contemplates sitting up so she can observe her surroundings more closely but dismisses the option almost immediately after it comes to mind. The soreness is a constant throbbing under her skin, so clearly she's here because she got injured somehow.
It wouldn't do to aggravate a wound if she sat up too suddenly.
She blinks. No, that's not the main issue. Some manager she is in this state. Hopefully, she isn't needed too— Wait, actually, Satsuki's sure that she went to sleep early for the... for the first round of the Winter Cup against Seirin High again, so...
Before Satsuki can continue on her increasingly worrying train of thought, she hears footsteps getting closer and louder, before a door slides open smoothly and the curtains are drawn back to reveal a wide-eyed nurse.
"Momoi-san?"
Satsuki is taken aback at first. She stares at the nurse for a beat, until the woman begins to look distinctly concerned and Satsuki snaps out of it. Out of habit, she smiles at the nurse, sheepish and sunny: the perfect image of a ditzy little girl. "Um! Yes?"
The nurse blinks, before mirroring her expression tentatively. "I see that you're awake!"
With that, the nurse takes her leave in order to call in someone else. But Satsuki wasn't the manager during Teikou Middle's glory days for nothing— her ears catch the waver of disbelief in the nurse's tone easily, and Satsuki watches the nurse's body language as close as her limited field of vision allows her, stuck in a horizontal position.
The ECG picks up on her accelerated heartbeat as Satsuki bites her lip, unsettled.
Is it really that surprising that she's awake?
Her parents come in through the door like an unstoppable force of nature.
"Tsukii!" her mother practically wails, "Tsukii, how do you feel? Are you okay? Do you need—"
"Calm down, Tsubaki," her father comforts, hand practically holding her mother back from strangling her with her hugs, though his gaze is relieved as he watches Satsuki blink dumbly and sheepishly at them.
"Ah, um, mother, father," Satsuki musters, eyes sweeping over both of their weary appearances. "...What happened?"
Her father doesn't smile unkindly at her. "You've been unconscious for a while, and you had a head injury, so it's to be expected that you have some kind of temporary amnesia. The nurse will be going over the rest of the details for you, so I'm sure you'll get the gist of it all soon."
Satsuki nods, her parents loosely cradle her in their arms, and she relaxes well and truly for the first time since she came to. The rather dark twist to her parents' mouths isn't ignored, per say, but Satsuki takes it in stride. If her parents aren't out for blood and fretting over her every few seconds, it's probably not that bad.
As if summoned, the nurse opens the door with her hip and enters, carrying papers in her hands as she sits down in a chair that wasn't directly across from them.
She smiles at them. "Let's go over the details of the aftereffects of that car accident you were in, okay, Momoi-san?"
Satsuki freezes visibly, and it takes effort for her to not look as thrown as she feels.
It's probably not that bad, she said? A car accident isn't that bad?
She was expecting something minor and embarrassing like rolling off her bed onto that large stack of textbooks and trinkets beside her, or becoming sick from her own honey lemons overnight, or stress causing ulcers or something— not getting hit by a car.
Plus, if Satsuki knows anything, she knows she was nowhere near a street. In fact, she was in bed, in her house, far from a street.
So... what? Did a car fly through her window that's on the second floor of her house?
It takes Satsuki an embarrassingly long time to respond as she gets caught up in her thoughts. When she realizes, Satsuki flushes and ducks her head apologetically. "...Oh. Yes, that's fine!" She hopes her shaky grin doesn't look as off as it feels, at least.
The nurse doesn't seem to mind and just launches into a long, technical overview of Satsuki's condition, fielding off her mother's and occasionally her father's questions whenever they're brought up.
"—muscle atrophy is the only thing you have to worry about, at this stage. There was only minimal brain damage when you were first brought in, Momoi-san, and temporary injuries that have healed a long time ago. Really, we've just been waiting for you to wake up."
The nurse pauses to flash Satsuki a placid, reassuring smile. Satsuki smiles back reluctantly, still a little pale.
They were waiting long enough that they thought she wouldn't wake up?
On both sides, her parents hover over her with tight grins and relief bright in their eyes, and Satsuki feels guilty for causing them so much trouble. Her father's hand come down to rest comfortingly on her shoulder. "Is she free to be discharged, now?"
"Ah, not quite. After another day of observation and a few more tests, Momoi-san should be good to go, though. We'll need to go over some paperwork, organize her medical records, call in a few specialists... but otherwise, feel free to come back tomorrow morning," The nurse offers kindly before she turns to address Satsuki herself. "What about you, Momoi-san? Do you have any questions?"
At that, Satsuki furrows her eyebrows and bites her lower lip in thought. She rolls the edge of the wheels underneath her fingers pensively, playing around with the wheelchair supporting her. "...Maybe what day is it today? Is it December 22nd?"
An understanding that Satsuki's not privy to passes through the room and Satsuki's own smile turns stiff. What was it? What was she missing?
"Tsukii," her mother says, "That's the day you got into the accident. It's already January."
Satsuki sucks in a breath, surprised all of a sudden. "What? What about the match against Seirin High?"
Surely, surely they'd remember that—
"Seirin High?" her father parrots with no sign of recognition of the name, even though he had been discussing Seirin with her for the past week. Well, when she was at home and not in a hospital.
Satsuki casts him a bewildered glance. Was he serious? Actually serious?
"My school's supposed to be playing a match...?"
What is going on—
"Satsuki?" her mother looks confused, even though the last time Satsuki and her father had brought up a basketball discussion during dinner she had banned any mention of the Winter Cup in the house, "You're starting middle school in Teikou in the spring, remember?"
Standing in front of a mirror critically, staring at someone that she had thought she had put behind her, Satsuki can only stare.
She looks exactly the same— the same as she was when she was actually twelve. There are little details, here and there, that make this whole situation seem real and less like a god awful joke.
For one, Dai-chan's basketball is perched at the end of her desk, with his awful scrawl and her own neat handwriting marking it with the words "Aomine Daiki." A basketball that was lost after Dai-chan left it behind at some streetball court years ago.
It wasn't really a big deal, and as the years went by Dai-chan went through basketballs like nothing, but that was... that was the basketball that he had given Satsuki to keep safe in her room when he had completely forgotten her birthday.
A long, long time ago.
Bitter nostalgia chokes down all the thoughts she wishes she could voice, and she swallows it down with difficulty as she gazes around her room.
It is, put simply, left as a complete mess due to what seems to be Dai-chan's meddling. Books are piled haphazardly across the floor, pencils are mismatched and jammed into random mugs...
It looks like Satsuki hasn't been as attentive to the state of her personal space as she usually is— but well, it was only after Dai-chan stopped coming over as frequently as he did during their middle school days that she began to care a little more about the state of her room as classmates came over in... the absence of her friends.
...Satsuki takes a few moments to breathe and blink back the familiar frustration that burns hot and sharp at the edges of her eyes.
No, she tells herself furiously.
Not now. Not again.
She's had enough.
Her parents are worried enough.
And well, speaking of her parents... Satsuki fidgets, even though the only eyes on her are her own.
Conversing with them hours ago was, simply put, awkward. Especially awkward for her, when they talk about Teikou Middle in the present tense, bring up the names of friends that Satsuki had grown distant with after elementary, and mention that it's currently the middle of January when it should be Thursday, December 23rd.
It's the date that Satsuki nagged Dai-chan with for so long that she could recite it in her sleep. That they both could recite it in their sleep, hopefully, but Satsuki couldn't read Dai-chan as well as she did before so that's all up in the air.
And yet, at this point, the Winter Cup is the least of her worries now, as strange and unlikely as that thought would have sounded to Satsuki just what feels like a few hours ago.
...It'd be more like years later if she gets technical, and if she does truly believe in her current theory.
As for more evidence to prove it... well, to Satsuki's everlasting frustration, her limbs just won't cooperate with her.
Satsuki tries to flex her fingers once more without much hope, and as they did a few hours ago, her fingers just quiver uselessly, weak and pale.
While she had been assured that she should be able to regain her fine motor control back in a few days, Satsuki's pretty sure part of the problem is that her body has basically shrunk to her. Not by a lot, but added to the pain of dealing with her healing contusions and sprains, it's enough to put her off balance and cause her to be clumsy with absolutely everything she does.
She's as careless as Dai-chan is with her things, in this state. Both past and present Dai-chan.
Or present and future Dai-chan, if this isn't just an elaborate hallucination.
And... it doesn't seem like it, Satsuki decides, reaching out to touch the shining glass in front of her. It's solid, it's real— her hand drops, her stomach sinks.
...And that's okay. That's very okay. Because Satsuki has wished she could do things differently countless times, and surely—
And surely like this, this time—
This time she...
...
She laughs.
She laughs, sharp and short, and it hurts her throat to make that sound, but...
But she can't stop the hurt and Satsuki— she roughly digs in her knuckles into her eyes and wipes away the last of the burning tears threatening to form, laughing.
And surely Satsuki knows she's just lying to herself. She knows her limits. She has her limits. She's not really part of the Generation of Miracles; she can't break through anything. She's not going break anything else to do that. Not going to, not going to, I'm not going to, Dai-chan says shortly, eyes narrowed and so, so dark—
Through the mirror, she watches the tremble of her fingers, the glassy look in her eyes, the pale pallor of her skin. She could be a ghost like this, she thinks, could be the true antithesis of Dai-chan's solid frame and dark body, a husk of a human. Not quite there, not quite alive, and maybe she's not. Maybe she's not.
Maybe she did get hit by a car.
Satsuki laughs, and she laughs wetly as she presses the heels of her palms to her eyes, and thinks, and thinks, and thinks, God.
God, what is this? Why doesn't she learn?
Satsuki has to pull herself together. She has to pull herself together again because clearly, she hasn't got the disposition to be anything but a hopeless romantic. No matter how logical she wishes she really was, she's not. She's not.
The amount of time Satsuki had spent trying to lift up Dai-chan's spirits, trying to stop him from just— giving up—
What use was her blind optimism, really? Nothing changed when she tried to fix things on Dai-chan's end. Even the brief interest Dai-chan had when confronting Tetsu again snuffed itself out quickly once Tetsu couldn't match up, even with his new light by his side.
He never comes to practice, and the worst part is that Satsuki expects that.
Even stuck in the middle of some strange time-travel plot like a regretful protagonist like this, Satsuki doesn't have any clue how to fix things. The only person Satsuki knows pretty well is Dai-chan, and she can't even convince him to do anything.
The only person Satsuki knows with all her heart is herself. The only person she's ever really had is herself.
Ever since childhood, ever since middle school, even now— Satsuki is fascinated with the concept of friendship, but if what happened with Teikou proves anything, she shouldn't chase after it with all of her heart when it will all just end up broken. She should just concentrate on only having enough social niceties and goodwill to get her by with people who see her for her appearance, for her grades, for this weak, gullible side of hers that thinks friendship is something just out of a manga—
Satsuki stares at herself, at the face of her childhood, as if she's never grown a single bit, and all she really can do is laugh, more brightly than her last laugh as her lungs burn for air, for something, for anything.
She finds herself holding her breath, at the end of her little fit. Finds herself exhausted, staring dead up at the ceiling. Emotion is too big for her, and it's leaking out of her in waves now, dripping down by her feet, invisible.
"...Well, I didn't ask for this," is all Satsuki can muster up, instead of a proper answer to the mantra of why's ringing in her ears.
endnotes:
please ignore all the medical inaccuracies, haha... i'm not really satisfied with this, but let's see how this goes!
