So, you remember how this story is rated M? This chapter is the prime reason why. The other chapters so far were like T with a hint of M just because I didn't want to give people ideas about things that are detrimental to their health. This chapter, though, is definitely rated M for suicidal thoughts. So if you have any triggers like that, please tread carefully. The last thing I want is for this story to hurt someone, when my whole intent was to help people who have these problems or know someone with them to understand them from both sides.
That being said, this chapter is an emotional roller coaster, so everyone buckle up for the feelz! You're going to want the safety harnesses fastened securely. It's also significantly longer than my other chapters for the simple reason that there was no good way to stop. You can't stop the feelz roller coaster once it's in motion. All you can do is enjoy the ride.
Disclaimer: I also just realized I never put in a disclaimer. I don't own Oofuri. I just own the idea of this story and the words written here, to an extent at least. I think? Maybe.
The Strong One
Abe awoke from his dreams with a start, nearly falling out of his bed. His eyes scanned the ceiling as he oriented himself to his surroundings. Recognizing that he was in his own bed, he flopped back down and turned to check his alarm clock. 5:07. 3 hours of sleep. He was getting worse. What was even more frustrating for Abe was that he couldn't even remember his dreams anymore. They felt tense and constricting and he's been waking up at odd hours unexpectedly, but the second he leaves the dream world, he's already forgotten what the dream was about. All he's left with is a vague sense of drowning. Of reaching for something ahead of him, but never grasping it.
These dreams weren't new to him, but ever since Mihashi confronted him about going to counseling less than two weeks ago, they have been increasing in frequency. He was mostly hiding from Mihashi, too, now certain that his friend would press him more to get help. Abe knew he should, really, he did understand it would help, but the thought terrified him. The thought that the school counselor would be forced to tell his parents, that his teammates would see him going there, that he couldn't afford going to one on his own. Most of all, though, he didn't want to admit it was real. If he went to counseling, it meant he had a problem. That he was weak. And hell if he was ever going to admit that! He was the strong one.
Knowing that going back to sleep was no longer an option, Abe got up and got dressed. He killed time reading a book on baseball pitching form; Mihashi was currently working on trying to adjust his form to pitch better. Abe may not be talking to him as much as before, but he was still Mihashi's catcher. He would shoot himself in the foot before letting his team down because of his personal problems. They didn't need that. They needed him to keep their pitcher in line and he was going to do that no matter what.
The day passed by in a blur for him, lost as he was in his thoughts and struggling to stay awake in class. They had practice after school, but the intensity had dropped down since they lost to Senda a few days ago. It was a grueling game, but they had played to the best of their ability. Abe suspected Mihashi still blamed himself for it, trying to change his form in the middle of a tournament wasn't the best idea, but in the end it was the best for him. As much as Abe wanted Mihashi's form to stay the same, Mihashi had to fix it if he wanted to progress further. It just meant taking a small step back right now.
"Abe Takaya," the biology teacher called his name out. Abe blinked himself back into reality and saw that the teacher was standing over him holding a paper in his hands. "Your test, Mr. Abe."
"Oh, yes, thank you," Abe replied as he took the test. If he remembered correctly, which he was trusting less and less lately, this was the test the day after the Senda game. They had stayed late going over things to work on and Abe had little time to study for the test. Biology was one of his better subjects so he didn't worry about it, but then during the test he had an anxiety attack. Nothing he had studied had been on there and he quickly realized he didn't know a lot of it. The fear seeped back in now as he turned the test over to see his grade. Maybe it would be a low 70? Even somewhere in the 60's would be good at this point.
56.
It was officially the worst he had done on any test that he could remember. His fingers started trembling as he held the paper. He could feel the color drain from his face, his throat constricting on him, a heavy weight settling in his chest. He was having another attack, right here. He closed his eyes to try and block out the sensation and get air into his lungs, but was ultimately brought back when Hanai spoke to him.
"Hey, Abe. How'd you do?" Abe stared at him for a second before the urge to laugh came over him; the question was absurd. He had done the worst he could ever remember doing, but no big deal, how'd you do? Looking up, he saw Hanai looking at him, a quizzical expression on his face. Abe inwardly groaned, but outwardly fixed an expression of exasperation on his face. He could only hope that it would stick there long enough to get him through this conversation.
"Not good," he admitted. Lying was only going to make him feel worse in the long run, he knew.
"Oh, how bad?"
"Bad." Hanai leaned over to look at the paper, but Abe pulled it away from him. Hanai could draw his own conclusions as to what bad was; Abe didn't want to give him the concrete knowledge. He then quickly shoved the paper in his backpack, intent on leaving as soon as the bell rung.
"What'd you do that for?" Hanai asked, still looking confused. Abe shook his head in response.
"It's just really bad, and I didn't want to look at it too much before lunch," Abe eventually said, hoping the mention of lunch would divert Hanai's attention.
"Ah, I know that feeling. Cheer up, we still have the final in this class to make up for it."
Abe was about to respond that the final couldn't really make up for the midterm when the bell rang. Seeing his exit chance, he all but bolted out of the classroom. He strode down the hall, intent on finding a mostly empty bathroom to clear his anxiety away, when he remembered what Mihashi had said. That he should try and look for him even when it wasn't convenient. Abe warred with himself on what to do. What if he looked for him and couldn't find him? Not only would he miss lunch, but he'd be even more stressed out than before. But if he didn't go look, it was as if he wasn't even trying to get better, to listen to his friend. And he did want to listen to him. In the end, he decided that he'd go to the classroom and if Mihashi wasn't there, then he'd head to the bathroom by himself. It was a good compromise.
Arriving at Mihashi's classroom in record time, he stuck his head in the door and scanned the room. Mihashi wasn't there. Abe felt his chest tighten and his breathing rate increase. Not here, he told himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tajima watching him. He quickly realized that Tajima would want to talk to him, being the outgoing person that he was, so he purposefully looked away and rushed back into the hallway.
Abe could feel the panic rising in him as he located a bathroom on the level above him. He looked under the stalls to make sure they were empty and then locked himself in the nearest one, unable to stand it any longer. The emotions hit him like tidal waves. All the panic and fear he felt about the test, bubbling up in him. Regretting that he didn't study more for it. Angry with himself that he had studied the wrong things for it. Shamed that this was one of his worst test scores, in a subject he was good at even. Fear of what his father would say. Terrified that he had disappointed him. And then depressed because he knew that he had.
Abe unleashed all of this onto his arm, as if he could blame it for everything that had happened. As if punching it would get him a better test grade. As if it could absorb all his negative emotions. It could not. Abe continued until his arm was so numb that only his eyes watching him hit his arm told him that it was even happening. But it wasn't enough. He felt calmer now, but still terrified of what would happen when he got home.
Somehow, Abe made it back to the classroom and pulled through the rest of the day. He mechanically bowed as the last bell rang and he followed Hanai to the baseball field on autopilot. When he opened the door to the team room, his eyes automatically scanned for Mihashi who looked up at him as he walked in. They locked eyes for less than a second before Abe looked away. The guilt of this afternoon ate at him, a little voice in the back of his head saying that he should have tried harder to find his friend. Now he had to go about hiding it. Just one more thing to add to the ever growing list of things he regretted.
"Hey," Abe greeted Mihashi as he stood next to him to get his stuff out of his locker. Mihashi nodded stiffly in response, causing Abe to let out a harsh chuckle. "You don't have to be so tense," Abe chided, easing into the familiarity of it.
"Sorry," Mihashi apologized, head downturned.
"Don't be," Abe said as he ruffled Mihashi's hair and went back to his locker. Abe felt the tension he'd had all afternoon slip away as he fell into taking care of Mihashi mode. It was an easy role for him to play, the protector, even if he felt like doing anything but. It gave him some semblance of normalcy.
That familiarity carried him through practice, enabling him to interact with Mihashi more than he had been the past week. Abe told him about some of the things he'd read in his book and they worked on stabilizing his form more. He could tell by the way that Mihashi lit up that he had been worried. Maybe he thought that it was his fault that Abe had been avoiding him this past week. Which wasn't true at all and he'd have to talk to him about it soon to find out. Right now, though, he wanted to enjoy this peaceful feeling he had where everything felt right with the world.
But then practice ended and he was alone again with his thoughts. For a second, he thought about asking Mihashi to come home with him so that he'd be there for the fallout, but he didn't think Mihashi could handle the yelling. He already got frightened when Abe yelled without meaning to; putting him through what was about to come would be pure torture. No, Abe would have to handle this on his own. He'd done alright most of the time, so he didn't think this would be that bad.
Abe took a deep breath as he entered his house, already steeling himself for the confrontation. He took off his shoes and put his slippers on before treading down the hallway carefully. His father was in the family room, but there was no sound. Usually, the TV was on, playing some baseball game that was taking place somewhere, but it was off. That, Abe knew from experience, was never a good sign.
"Sit down," his father said, but it came out sounding more like a command than anything else. Abe hesitantly took a seat on the opposite couch from his father, unconsciously trying to put more distance between them.
"I got a call from your school today. Your biology teacher was worried because of your last test grade. Said you got a 56." So that's what happened, Abe realized, the school had informed his father behind his back.
"Dad, I can explain," Abe started only to be cut off by his father's loud voice.
"A 56. In biology no less. This is completely unacceptable," his father continued steamrolling over him, his eyes boring a hole straight through his son.
"I know, I know, dad, I just-"
"Oh, you know do you? If you know, then how did you let this happen?"
"I've been trying to explain," Abe said, rolling his eyes as he prepared to launch into his explanation.
"Don't give me that look," his father warned, his voice rising in volume.
"I'm not giving you a look."
"Yes, you are," his father loudly insisted. Resisting rolling his eyes now, Abe decided to just continue on with his story, ignoring the way his heart was hammering in his chest.
"We had the Senda game the day before, the one we lost, and we all stayed late to go over stuff-"
"You didn't study the night before that, knowing that you had a game the day before?" his father asked.
"Well, no, I thought I would have enough time-"
"Clearly you didn't. And now you get this kind of grade on top of losing that game," his father declared, as if that solved everything.
Abe felt like the words had slapped him in the face. Of course in hindsight it was obvious to point out these things. It was like his father was telling him what an idiot he was for not realizing such a simple thing in the first place. Abe's fists clenched at his side as he tried to hold himself together, anger bubbling in him.
"I would have had enough time, but I was studying the wrong material," Abe ground out through gritted teeth.
"I don't want to hear your excuses. You should have been able to get a better grade than this."
"But, I-"
"You'll never be able to get into college for physical therapy with a grade like this in biology. How could you be so stupid to study the wrong material?"
Abe could feel the anger coursing through him, igniting his nerves and making his hair stand on end. For once, just once in his life, couldn't his father listen to him without calling him stupid for one reason or another? Deciding he would have to try harder, Abe stood up to face his father down.
"Maybe I was feeling devastated at the time because we just lost an important game so I wasn't thinking straight!" Abe yelled, hoping that his intentions would get across. He could feel tears pinpricking at the corner of his eyes, threatening to fall down. And then his father stood up.
"Don't cry, you're a man. Everyone feels bad after a lost game. Your other teammates didn't fall apart, did they? So suck it up. You have to do better than this. College is right around the corner and-"
"Shut up!" Abe screamed. He felt triumphant for a moment before he saw his father's eyes flash in anger. Reflexively, he recoiled and closed in on himself, trying to shut everything out. It was too late, though, he had already said those words and he couldn't take them back.
"You do not tell your father to shut up. You're grounded for the next week. And tomorrow you will go to your teacher to see if there's anything you can do to bring up your grade." Abe nodded in response, not trusting himself to say anything. Not that he could anyway, his tongue was heavy in his mouth and his throat burned. Abe turned to go to his room when he heard his father again, "And don't you dare cry. It's a sign of weakness."
Abe was sorely tempted to turn right back around again and tell his father that he'd cry if he wanted to, but there was no point. Nothing he could say would ever change his father's mind. He had tried in the past, but every attempt had ended in his father keeping his opinion the same and Abe storming away frustrated. And then he was yelled at for stomping in the house. He quickly learned it was easier to just give up on it than try and push the point.
So Abe walked, not stomped, upstairs to his room. Instead of going in his room, though, he detoured to the bathroom to wipe his face. Despite his father insisting that he not cry, a few tears had spilled out as he left. Alone in the bathroom, he locked the door on habit and ran a face cloth under warm water. It was as he washed his face that he saw something interesting.
There was a shaving razor sitting on the sink. This wasn't unusual, it was always there, but for some reason it seemed so interesting right now. Abe picked it up and absently noted that it had five little razors in the head. Each one seemed so small, but he knew that they were really sharp. The more he stared at it, the more his mind numbed to everything but that little razor. It was so much easier to forget about all the unpleasant things in life and concentrate on this curious object in front of him.
As he stared at it, a thought came to his mind. He knew it was sharp enough to cut through hair, but could it cut through skin? Abe had nicked himself before using the razor, but that was only a shallow cut. Would it be possible to go deeper with it? The more he looked at it, the more curious he became until he decided he had to test it out. Looking at his left wrist, it seemed like a good enough spot.
Abe brought the razor down to meet his wrist and pressed it into his skin. He paused for a moment as his breath quickened at the idea of what was going to happen, his palms becoming sweaty. Was he excited for it, nervous? Did he really want to do this? But before he could process it any more, he swiped the razor across his wrist, flinching a little at the pain it caused. He saw the skin tear apart as little red trails formed, but they didn't seem deep enough to him. This was a sharp razor; he should be able to cut even deeper than that. So he put the razor to his wrist again, applying more pressure than before, and swiped while ignoring the pain he felt. And then did it again.
After the third time, he could taste something metallic in his mouth. It gave him just enough of a stimulus that he paused and looked at his handiwork. His eyes traced the marks on his wrist and watched as the blood pooled and trickled off to the side, threatening to fall to the floor. Abe caught it just in time as he moved his hand into the sink and set the water running over it to wash away the blood. But of course he couldn't wash it away. As water pushed one layer of blood off his skin, more just took its place.
Abe watched with dead eyes as his blood flowed out his wrist and down the drain.
In a sudden moment of clarity, Abe realized that his blood wouldn't be able to coagulate while it was under the faucet. Removing it from the warm water of the faucet, the cuts were exposed to the open air and it sent a little sting through Abe. It was that sting that brought the reality of the situation crashing down on him. That he had just slit his wrist open with a shaving razor.
Immediately, a deep sense of shame set in. He couldn't even pinpoint why he felt that way, but it was definitely the first feeling he recognized. However, his strongest emotion was horror at how numb he felt throughout the whole thing. The simple fact that he was able to do it so calmly unnerved him to the core. What kind of monster was he that he would do this to himself? Not even once, but three times he had done it! Three times he dug into his skin. Abe shuddered and quickly went to get the gauze to stop the bleeding. As he pressed the gauze down, he began to cry. And he hated himself for crying, too. For being weak like that. Men didn't cry. But even as he hated himself for it, the tears would not stop.
Abe pulled the gauze away after a few minutes and winced at the sight. There were at least half a dozen horizontal lines on his wrist, the ones in the middle deeper and longer than the others. It didn't look like it was bleeding anymore, so they must not have been that deep after all, but that still left a problem. How was he supposed to hide this? If he bandaged it, it would be obvious that something was there and he didn't think he could come up with a believable enough excuse for the lines. Leaving it bare increased the possibility of infection, but would be easier to hide with long sleeves. Maybe he could dig up an old watch of his. In the end, concealment outweighed infection and he decided to leave it as it was.
A few days must have passed without Abe knowing because it was suddenly Saturday. He couldn't even remember a single conversation he'd had since that night. The all-consuming fear that someone might discover that he slit his wrist blocked nearly everything else out. He must have responded correctly in conversations because no one called him out on it or asked if he was alright. That realization didn't help him much. Did anyone care at all? Would he have to shove the evidence in their face before anyone saw it?
No, Mihashi had seen through him before. When Abe had thought no one cared and was hiding everything so carefully, Mihashi had confronted him and made him see reason. But he had been avoiding Mihashi lately, hadn't he? When was the last time they had talked? Abe seemed to recall a conversation about correcting his form, but it all seemed so vague, so hazy. He must have talked to him after that, but for the life of him Abe could not recall it.
It was in this trance that Abe walked to baseball practice, the route so familiar to him that it only took a fraction of his attention, letting his mind wander. All he could think about was how no one cared. That everyone was so absorbed in their own lives to worry about anyone else's. The dreams he had of making it to Koshien, the ones he'd been so sure of and trained like hell for seemed so… insignificant. What was the point of going to the Koshien? Even after all that hard work, they hadn't made it. Abe had screwed them over by not making Mihashi see reason and stick with his weird form for a little longer. They could try again in a few months, but if they didn't make it now, why would they make it later? They'd just fail again…
Abe got dressed in the changing room in silence, avoiding Mihashi as best he could. He took special care as he put on his long sleeve shirt that when he took off his watch no one would be able to see his wrist. If he kept the watch on, it obstructed his baseball glove. Mentally psyching himself up, Abe went outside to join everyone at practice. Even though he knew it was in vain.
It was easy for Abe to go through the motions, many of them ingrained in him for years. Catch the pitch, check for runners, throw it back. Watch the pitch, hear the crack, watch the ball soar, follow the throws, catch the pass. Step up to bat, watch the pitch, miss the ball. Readjust, watch the pitch, hit the ball, see it caught, out. Give the sign, watch the pitch, dammit Mihashi was back to his old form a-
"Coach!" someone yelled.
"Is he alright?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
That last one was Mihashi, Abe thought as he opened his eyes. He had closed them? And why did his head hurt? Oh, Mihashi's pitch must have gone astray since his form shifted. Abe didn't catch it. He could feel his cheeks flame up a little bit; as a catcher, he really should have been able to catch that. Focusing in now that his vision was clearing up, Abe saw the team huddled around him. His embarrassment only grew worse.
"Tajima, Mihashi, take him to the bench. Get him some water while I get Shige. Everyone else, back to practice," Momoe said as she assessed Abe's head. He could feel her hand take off his mask and her hands moved over the back of his head, trying to see if there was any blood. Satisfied that there wasn't, she turned and ran off to find Mr. Shige to help.
"Alright, everyone, let's go!" Hanai yelled out, rallying up the team.
"Osu!"
Abe pushed himself up with Tajima and Mihashi supporting him on either side and together the trio marched over to the bench. They set him down gingerly and began to take off his numerous catcher's pads as he leaned his head back to try and stop the ache he felt. The mask had absorbed most of the impact, but the recoil when he hit the ground still hurt. He was so focused on the pain in his head that he forgot to worry about his little secret until it was too late.
"Abe," Mihashi squeaked as he let out an involuntary gasp. Abe looked up and saw Mihashi holding Abe's glove in one hand, the other on his wrist, exposing the scars he had there. Abe yanked it away, but Mihashi had already seen, already understood. Eyes darting to the side, Abe saw that Tajima had seen them, too. That two people now knew his secret. He felt the panic rising up inside him, all the telltale signs of quick breathing and the heavy weight in his chest. He had to go. Now.
"It's fine," he said. No one believed him, but with the both of them there, he wouldn't be able to force his way through without hurting someone.
"It's not fine," Mihashi pressed.
"I can't do this right now, Mihashi."
"Abe, please, just tell me what's wrong."
"No, I-I have to go," Abe declared as he stood to leave, Tajima and Mihashi standing with him. Abe could feel his rationality slipping. It had already been so fragile to begin with since that day, and this, this was pushing him over the edge.
"You're hurt," Mihashi protested.
"I don't care," Abe said as he brushed past his teammates, but then Mihashi reached out and grabbed his hand, the left one. Abe winced in pain and slapped his hand away, accidentally hitting Mihashi in the process. Stunned, Abe watched Mihashi fall and hit the bench before impacting the ground with a thud. His brain froze as it tried to process everything. He had hurt Mihashi for what, the fourth time now? How many Goddamn times was he going to go through this before he learned his lesson? How many times did his friend have to suffer while only trying to help before Abe stopped hurting him? How many times could Abe apologize before Mihashi would stop forgiving him? He didn't want to find out.
So Abe ran. He heard Tajima shout something in the distance, but he didn't stop to listen. Like a frightened animal, he was only concerned with his flight instincts, prompting him to run as far as he could. He got to the gate before he realized that he didn't want to go home. And if he went into town like this, surely someone would notice and ask questions and he didn't feel like trying to pretend everything was fine or tell the truth. The woods were also out of the question; he'd get lost and never make it back. So, where could he go in the school? Not the baseball field, not a classroom… the roof.
Mind made up, Abe raced to the roof and wasn't surprised to find it open; in a peaceful school like Nishiura, their security for these things was low. Perfect for when people do want to take advantage of it, like him. He shut the door behind him and took a moment to close his eyes and feel the wind around him. He felt so free, until the throbbing in the back of his head came in and yanked him back down. Tired, he leaned against the wall and tried to even out his breathing. When he could breathe again, he opened his eyes and looked around.
The roof was empty, a little dirty from lack of cleaning, and the only noticeable feature was the entryway he came in on. They didn't even have one of those fences around the edges to prevent people from falling. Or jumping. Not that Abe wanted to jump. No, he didn't, really, but it did look very interesting…
Abe walked forwards until he was a few steps away from the edge and looked down. It was at least 40 feet until the ground. Idly, he wondered how much it would hurt to fall. Would he die instantly? If he landed wrong, maybe, but otherwise he would probably just be in a lot of pain. Most likely incur some permanent injury that would prevent him from playing baseball ever again. That might be nice. He wouldn't have to worry about the Koshien anymore; the option would just be permanently gone to him. But that looked like it would really hurt.
"Abe!" a voice called out from behind him. He almost gave himself whiplash with the speed he turned around at. There, at the roof entrance, was none other than his favorite idiotic pitcher. Abe registered the fear marring his usually dopey face, contorting and twisting it into something Abe didn't want to see. So Abe looked away and his eyes fell back to the ground again, making out all the objects there and if any of them would be a good place to land.
"Abe, come back here!" Mihashi called out again. Abe ignored him and continued staring at the ground.
"Abe, please!"
"Why?" he said quietly, but the wind must have carried his voice because Mihashi responded back.
"Because I don't want you to jump."
"Well maybe I do!" Abe shouted as he turned around to face Mihashi. He could see his friend's eyes widen even more in fear, but Abe couldn't bring himself to care. Not about him, not about baseball, not about… anything.
"Maybe I'm tired of this. Of hurting you all the time, of screwing everything up, of failing, of never being the best." All the memories, real and imaginary, of the times his dad had told him that he needed to do better in school, that an A- still wasn't good enough. Of failing to be Haruna's catcher so he drove himself into the ground working for it only to have Haruna be the worst pitcher. That last game when Abe let them down and ruined their chances of the Koshien.
"You don't have to be the best," Mihashi called out to him, yanking him back to reality. He hadn't realized it, but he had taken a step close to the edge of the roof. When did he do that? Did he really want to jump? The thought electrified him, adrenaline pumping through him so fast it was making his head spin.
Everything was at war with everything else inside him. His instincts to live, to be free from this pain. The sense of frustration he felt for hurting Mihashi, the longing to be held in his arms again. The fear of the unknown of what death would feel like, the fear of what tomorrow would bring. His footsteps brought him one step farther away from safety.
"I do have to be the best. If I'm not, what's the point."
"The point is you tried, you had learned and grew. I've made mistakes, but you helped me get past them. Let me help you now!" Mihashi tried to reason. It sounded so good, that he could just go to him and be saved. But then tomorrow, he could lose his restraint again and hurt him. Why hurt his friend when he could hurt himself instead?
"You can't help."
"Let me try."
"You have tried! You've been trying, this whole time! And it hasn't gotten any better. I still hurt myself. I still hurt you. We didn't make it to the Koshien. I failed that test-"
"I'm fine, Abe! And we can go to Koshien next year. And you can bring your test up." But Abe shook his head. Mihashi didn't get it, didn't understand that Abe couldn't change. That he would always be this way, always second rate and failing. He tried so hard before, but now, he was just too tired of it all. Maybe he would jump. Maybe that would be for the best. It'd certainly put an end to this cycle of worrying and cease the warring in his head. He stepped up to the edge of the roof.
"Even if I brought my grades up, I still wouldn't be the best. And if I'm not the best, what's the point? I'm not number one in the class, on the team, not even in my own family. So really, it wouldn't matter if I wasn't here." Abe turned away from Mihashi and looked down. He could feel the blood pumping in his ears, everything still fighting everything else. He just wanted it all to stop. And if jumping was the only way, so be it.
"You're number one to me!" Mihashi screamed, his voice cutting through the air like a lance. Abe turned his head back to see him, properly now. Tears streaming down his face, he was walking slowly towards him.
"You're my number one! Always! Since, since the beginning, and a long time now, you've had that place. After you saved me at Mihoshi and, and taught me I wasn't worthless. When you wouldn't give up on me and continued to catch. You're, you're my most important person! And then I saw you in pain, and I wanted to help and I couldn't. It hurt me to see you like that, seeing the one I cared for the most struggling so much. So, please, please! I love you and I want you to stay here. If you won't do it for yourself, please, do it for me. Please don't go. I love you so much."
Abe stood there, at the edge of the roof, dumbfounded. All the turmoil blew away in an instant with the clarity of the words just thrown at him. Every thought about feeling worthless and depressed, gone. He could only feel the overwhelming warmth radiating from Mihashi, the pure unadulterated love enveloping him. The adrenaline still buzzed through him and his breathing had yet to slow down, but his mind was clear. He could see the rest of Mihashi as his friend slumped on the roof, still staring at him with pleading eyes.
Abe took a step back and away from the edge. And then he turned around and walked towards the center of the roof where his pitcher was, still bawling his eyes out. Abe could himself tremble as the adrenaline wore off and his throat was still scratchy, but at least his mind was clear. As he walked, Mihashi jumped up and met him halfway, throwing his arms around him and burying his head in his shoulder. Abe noticed the tear marks on his shoulder, but didn't mind them. He was glad to feel anything at the moment.
"Thanks, Ren," Abe said as he reciprocated the hug. Mihashi nodded in his shoulder and hiccupped a few times, causing Abe to chuckle. Well, as much as he could chuckle when he was still trying to breathe properly.
"I-I was so scared," Mihashi confessed.
"I know."
"I-I really thought… I really thought that…"
"I know, but I didn't. I'm here," Abe confirmed and Mihashi nodded again. It was then that Abe looked up and saw Tajima standing in the doorway. Panic rose in Abe as his breath hitched before he forced himself to calm down and look. Tajima was pale as a sheet and shaking like leaf. He had been scared, too. Calm enough now, Abe rolled his eyes and motioned for Tajima to come, too. The teen perked up and ran over, joining them in their hug fest.
"I'm glad you're here, Abe," Tajima said and Abe could feel the sincerity in his voice. Not that he thought Tajima would want him gone, but usually guys were too manly to admit stuff like that seriously. But Tajima was one of a kind after all.
"Yeah, me, too."
"Oh, wait a second," Tajima said as he turned his head around, "Hanai, come join us."
"I'm coming!" Hanai yelled in a grumble as he came out through the door, too, shuffling his feet and avoiding eye contact.
"Is there anyone else there?" Abe asked, not sure how many people he could handle knowing about this little misadventure. Hanai came over to them, still looking awkward about the whole situation. Abe didn't mind, it was a pretty awkward situation to be in and Abe normally wasn't a huggy person either. It was just hard to not be huggy when Mihashi was bawling his eyes out and wrapped around you like a boa constrictor.
"Nah, just us. We were the only ones that followed Mihashi up here. Hanai, join the group hug."
"…No way."
"Come on, Hanai~~" Tajima sang.
"You're not gonna win this one," Abe pointed out. Abe smirked as Hanai rolled his eyes and gave in to join them. He lasted for all of 5 seconds before he pulled away and Tajima pulled away with him. There was a limit to how much of their pride they could shove aside, even in a situation like this.
"What now?" Tajima asked, directing the question at Abe. That was a good question and one he hadn't thought about. But right now, the future was looking a whole lot brighter than it did a few minutes ago and it didn't seem to weigh down on him so much. The only thing weighing down on him was a certain brunet who would not let go. Not that he cared much at the moment.
"I'll tell coach something and she'll figure out what to tell the rest of the team. If you guys could not tell anyone, at least not details, I'd appreciate it." Tajima accepted the answer with a nod and Hanai gave a grunt that was something like he'd be caught dead before telling anyone he joined in this group hug.
"Ren, you can let go now, we have to go back to practice," Abe gently pried his friend off of him. Mihashi nodded before he looked up at Abe, now registering the fact Abe had called him by his first name. Abe laughed at the surprised confusion written all of his face.
"You can call me Takaya, too, y'know." Mihashi bobbed his head up and down to show he understood before he looked back at him earnestly.
"Takaya." It was too much for Abe; he looked away and at the rooftop as a blush crept up his neck. How could Mihashi say it so straightforwardly like that? And now Tajima was laughing at him. Still, it could be worse. He chanced a glance back at the rooftop behind him, the memory of standing there and looking down already feeling like so long ago. Yeah, he agreed, it could be a lot worse.
Thank you everyone for replying last time! And by everyone I mean two people :D but that's okay. This was originally a coping mechanism for me to deal with things, so the fact that other people read it at all is awesome. I'm not even going to say how long this will be anymore because I'm just going to end up changing it again, but this was (at least for now) the climax. Whether I start a new arc after this remains to be seen. I might even continue it in another story since the focus will be different. Who knows? :D
