Atsushi 's mom passed away.

Everything after the fact had been a blur. He didn't know when he arrived back home from the hospital with his dad. He didn't know what he ate, he didn't even know when he went to bed.

All he knew was that his mom was gone and somehow he had to carry on without her.

Crumbling the half full bag of chips in one hand, he threw it in the trashcan on his way to school. A weight of indescribable pain had settled in his stomach ever since yesterday, and nothing he did was able to make it stop.

Atsushi wondered if he was sick too. Like his mom. Would dad be able to handle him passing away too?

Swallowing thickly, he blinked rapidly to expel any unnecessary water from leaking from his eyes.

He was fine.

His dad was fine.

They were all fine.

His mom was gone. His beautiful, tiny, full of life mom was gone. Faded away right in front of his eyes in a bright lit hospital room, but he was fine. He'll get over it. He'll move on and make her proud just like he promised her while her grip slacked in his. He was going to be fine.

"Atsushi?"

Startled, the giant quickly looked up, eyes locking with green one's behind rectangular glasses.

He most have stopped in the middle of the street, because people had started to circle around him as if he was an unmovable statue.

Maybe he was. He didn't feel much of a life in himself today.

"Atsushi?" The slightest hint of concern was evident in the other teens voice.

Atsushi almost snorted in amusement. To think Shin- chan would be concerned about him? What had the world come to.

"I'm fine Shin- chan ," he mumbled, trying to take a step forward to move past his former teammate. "I'm just hungry."

For some reason his legs wouldn't move. Atsushi glared down at them in confusing. What a time to let him down.

"Is that so," the bespectacled teen said, taking a careful step forward and towards him.

Since when did Shin- chan reply to that nickname? Things were seriously getting weird lately, and Atsushi didn't like it.

"Are you ok Atsushi?" Midorima asked softly after coming to a stop directly in front of him.

"Of course," the taller one scoffed, voice hitching slight. "Why would you ask?"

Midorima didn't say anything.

Instead he reached out with bandaged fingers to delicately hold both sides of the giant's face between his palms. Thumps running under his eyes. Careful not to scratch at his face.

"Then why are you crying Atsushi?"

Atsushi blinked slowly at him. "I don't know," he said. Voice muffled behind a strange sort of keening noise. "My mom died Shin- chan , and I don't know how to deal with it."

The green eyes looking up at him softened even more. How strange. Did Shin- chan know? Maybe he did. Someone from his team might have told. Atsushi didn't care.

"It's ok to feel hurt Atsushi," Shin- chan said, fingers rubbing soothing circles against his wet cheeks.

Atsushi didn't say anything. Just stared at his former teammate with wide eyes.

"I'm here," Midorima said firmly. "I'm right here."

"If I let myself think about her dea... if I let myself feel," Atsushi whispered then. Almost afraid to let his voice carry. "I'm afraid I'll never stop."

Shin- chan gently squeezed the back of his neck. Eyebrows furrowed atop of his forehead, and eyes holding a strange shine to them. "That's ok too Atsushi-kun," he said, the barest hint of a sad smile gracing his face. "I'm here."

Atsushi blinked furiously at that, but the dam had been broken and before he knew it, a flood of tears was running down his face.

A gut-wrenching sob rang across the empty streets in the early Monday morning. A sob filled with pain and suffering and anguish.

Atsushi faintly realized those horrid sounds were coming from his throat, before Shin-chan stepped forward and brought the giant's head to rest against his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Atsushi- kun ," he said softly, fingers gripping the back of his shirt so tight as if he was afraid to let him go. As if he was trying with all his might to keep Atsushi anchored to the world of the living. "I'm so so sorry."

Atsushi just cried louder. Giant sobs wrecking his body and he clutched the shorter teen against his chest. "Why did she have to go Shin- chan ," he wailed. "I miss her so much. Why did she have to leave me and dad?"

Midorima shushed him gently, fingers squeezing his back so hard, it most likely would leave bruises for tomorrow. "I don't know Atsu," he whispered. "I don't know, but I'm here. I'm right here, so you just lean on me. I won't leave, so just lean on me."

And Atsushi did exactly that. Crying his heart out next to one of the few people he would trust his heart to.

The green haired, three-point shooter stayed true to his words. Never once letting his grip go as he held his grieving friend for as long as he needed him to, and as they both made the trek back to Murasakibara's home, Midorima made sure to stay as close as humanly possible to him.

He wasn't going to let his friend grieve alone. He wasn't. And to Atsushi, that was enough.