Things He Couldn't Take

by AizaPonders

When a teacher asks Suga to stay after class, he never expects for things to turn out the way they do. He doesn't expect to be raped. He's determined to not let anyone figure out what happened, though, and he's determined to put it all in his past. But how long can he keep up his crumbling façade? And what happens if the memories turn into reality again?

10. Left

"The area's a clearing," Suga says through sniffles. "There's picnic tables around. I can't see much else."

"A clearing, picnic tables…" Daichi repeats, looking to Asahi hopefully, but the tall ace just shakes his head lost in thought.

"There are plenty of places like that," Asahi muses. Both spikers used to go camping and fishing with their families here, so both are relatively familiar with the mountain. Asahi's slightly more knowledgeable about the roads and campsites because it's been at least six years since Daichi has been up here. "Is there anything else?"

"I'm putting you on speaker," Daichi responds, placing his phone in a cup holder between Asahi and himself. "Maybe there's a sign or something."

"I don't know. I'll see. Just hang on a minute," Suga says. There's a sound like something being dragged along the ground, which scares the spiker until he realizes that it's Suga himself, that he must be crawling. His breathing turns labored after only a minute and Daichi can't help but want to step in.

"Don't strain yourself," he says. "It's okay if you can't find anything."

"We'll figure it out," Asahi adds.

"It's fine guys. I can at least…do this." Suga keeps moving, and even after crying out several times, he doesn't stop. The pain doesn't deter him. "I don't trust myself on my feet right now. It's a long way to the ground if I trip on something or get dizzy or anything like that. That's why," Suga grinds out, half talking to himself, "it has to be like this."

"You sound like you're in pain." Daichi just wants him to stop, wants everything to stop. He wants time to halt so that they can get there before Suga gets more injured. He wants to finally put to rest this fear in his own heart. Yet, he knows this situation is not a song to pause. It's not a difficult level to be tried again after 'game over.' Daichi shudders and tries not to let himself truly think about what a 'game over' situation would look like in real life.

Despite his efforts, he can't stop imagining the worst things. Images of the silver-haired teen crying and scared. Being hit. Being stripped. Hands on the setter's body, and—damn it, Daichi doesn't want this in his head. Why does he have to imagine this right now, when he's talking to Suga?

"It sounds worse than it is," Suga says. His voice then takes on a different quality, one closer to awe. It's rushed and muddled with hope. "There's a lake. I see a lake. It's dark but I can see the bank below me and the way the stars and moon reflect in the water."

Asahi glances at the phone and then quickly back to the road, brow furrowing minutely. He says, evenly, "There are two large ponds on this mountain. It would make sense that there would be picnic tables and an open are for cars to park."

"That's good right?" Suga jumps in. "It narrows down where I can be."

Yes, is the answer he's looking for. Great, problem solved, we know where you are. But Asahi remains quiet, Daichi falls into a memory from when he was twelve. It comes to him in flashes. He sat in the backseat staring down at his knees. It was still dark, not even dawn, but already too warm and stuffy.

'You have to make a decision.'

He internally scoffed, but didn't dare show his displeasure on his face. I don't care, he wanted to shout. I don't care. I never wanted to come here in the first place. This has been your idea from the start. I'd rather be sleeping. I'd rather be doing anything else. I'd rather not—'Daichi, are you listening? You'd better not be ignoring your father.'

Daichi sat up straighter to look at the back of his dad's head, fishing poles clanking together in his grasp. The box of bait was on the floor between his shoes. He kept his mouth sealed tightly. His father would always turn the littlest, most inconsequential things into a lecture.

'It's not that hard. You have about one minute. Left or right?'

Coming back to the present and suddenly remembering, Daichi asks, "Doesn't the road fork up here? Aren't the ponds on opposite sides of the mountain?"

Asahi's expression doesn't slip as he nods, and Daichi realizes that he must have known this from the moment Suga said "lake." He knew they were going to have to decide which area to search first. Miles lie between the two ponds, if Daichi remembers correctly, so if they head in the wrong direction, righting their mistake would take a while.

"Oh," Suga murmurs, realizing too. "And you guys don't know what side of the pond I'm on."

"If we can figure out which pond first, then it won't be difficult," Daichi assures. We only have a few minutes until we have to decide. Thinking back to the memory, it was the last time he'd been up here. My father never brought me again because of what I did. Trying to hold onto some semblance of optimism for his uncharacteristically quiet friends, he fills the silence. "We're already closer than we were ten minutes ago. You guys shouldn't feel so dejected when we've already made this much progress."

However, in less than five minutes, they reach the fork in the road and Asahi brings the car to a stop, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel. Both paths look the same, pavement giving way to dirt and gravel, trees sweeping in to line the edges and shade the road more completely. The captain turns to look at Asahi, really look at him for the first time this evening, and can see by the soft glow of the interior lights just how scared he looks. His eyebrows are knitted together with stress, eyes muddled with worry and fear. Sweat drips down his forehead.

"Let's go right," Daichi says quietly, ignoring the dryness of his mouth.

"But what if that's the wrong way?" Asahi bursts after a moment's hesitation, voicing all of their fears. "What if we waste all that time searching there when he's really on the other side of the mountain?"

"We can't stay here," Daichi says. 'You have to make a decision.' He gains more momentum in his voice, believing the taste of his own bravado. He was scared about this choice too, and was thinking the same thing, so he knows where Asahi's coming from, but they can't stop now. "There's a fifty-fifty chance that we'll get it right. We could be on our way to Suga right now."

"Or we could be driving further away from him! And wasting gas that we really can't afford to lose." He points to the gas gauge which lies flush with the quarter tank mark. That'd be a terrible scenario. Stranded themselves, they'd have no choice but to call their parents and then nothing will be contained—not to mention how long it would delay their search. It'd be bad, but..

But—

"We have to take that chance! We won't accomplish anything by waiting here. We can't accomplish anything by standing still!" the captain declares passionately. "We're not stopping! I'm not giving up now!"

The ace, cowed by Daichi's words, shifts the car into first gear. He murmurs, "We don't really have a choice, do we?"

They drive to the right, gradually picking up speed, no response needed. They have to keep moving.

He had said 'left' that day with his father. They had taken the road up to the pond to fish at their usual spot. He yawned. Positioned at the edge of the pond, Daichi and his father cast their lines into the water. He yawned.

They made sleepy conversation, the boy dancing back and forth on tired legs and cursing everything. After an hour passed, they had almost nothing to show for it and Daichi's patience had grown thinner while his father had grown more vocal. He just remembered that his dad kept picking at him. About his grades and his friends—and why did he want to play volleyball of all sports, and why wasn't he helping out more at his uncle's restaurant? No small moment or insecurity was safe, and at the time Daichi remembered feeling like there was nothing worse than these weekend outings with his father.

'If you don't want to give your all in school then you need to work hard. I won't have a son that's stupid and lazy.'

I want to be anywhere else. But he had no escape.

'The way you're going, no girl will look your way. Do you want to end up alone?'

Like, who cares? Who cares about any of that? Because I don't fucking care. Just shut up!

Except he said all of that out loud and threw his fishing pole to the ground, breaking a piece off of it. Just when he realized that he probably shouldn't have said what he did, he felt the sting of his father's palm against his cheek, and his head turned with the slap and water rising to his eyes.

'Don't you dare speak to me like that again,' his father growled. 'You hear me, Daichi?'

"Daichi?" Asahi laughs nervously. "So, you were making that face a minute ago."

"What face?" It was a fifty-fifty chance, but the only reason I chose 'right' was because I didn't want to go back to our old fishing spot. To think two years' worth of Sunday mornings were spent there.

"Your 'I'm the captain and I'm super pissed that you're not doing what I tell you' face. It's terrifying."

"I'm sorry," Daichi replies. "For asking you to do this and pulling you into all this with barely any explanation." They exchange a look of understanding, and then he leans forward a little, shaking off the memory. "Suga, how are you doing?"

No response.

"Suga?" Asahi asks, alarmed.

Listening closely, Daichi is sure he can hear Suga's breathing. Did the setter fall asleep? He doesn't know exactly how badly Suga is hurt, but his friend had said it was pretty bad so doesn't that mean that it's bad to fall asleep? Or is that only for a concussion? What if he does have a concussion? Daichi calls Suga's name again.

"I'm okay," comes the boy's quiet voice from the other side.

"You scared us," Asahi sighs.

The trees that grew so close to the road disperse as they drive on. It hasn't been long, and yet, he's already sick of the miles of terrain that separates them. Before the spikers run out of fuel and before it gets any colder, they have to find Suga.

"Sorry," Suga says, breathless. It seems to be getting more difficult to talk, yet despite that, he still tries to laugh it off. "I was looking up at the stars and dozed off."

Daichi sighs. "Don't fall asleep on us. Whatever you do, try to stay awake. I'm—"

"That's it!" Asahi suddenly bursts. "Suga, you said you were watching the stars? You can see the sky clearly from where you are?"

"Yes, I have a better view where I am now." Then Suga asks, hesitantly, "What do you have in mind?"

"People used to navigate by stars all the time," Asahi responds.

Daichi's jaw drops. Navigate by stars? Do people even do that anymore? Suddenly a couple of teenagers in a car just turned into seventeenth century ship captains. Daichi peers past the glare of his window and out into the sky that's with the sparkling orbs, like jewelry. Can they really find Suga like that?

"Asahi, you really surprise me sometimes."

"I agree," Daichi says, punching his friend on the arm. We can do this.

"I'll need your help though, both of you. We don't have any fancy instruments, so we'll have to make do. Daichi, you should find paper and a pen in the glove compartment." Asahi takes a breath. "Suga, can you sit with the pond to your left?"

There's shuffling on both ends. Daichi says, "Got it" right before Suga replies with, "Okay."

"So, Daichi, draw Suga at the center of the page and mark the pond on his left."

Daichi focuses on the paper in his hand, trying to draw straight while the car bumps along through potholes and rocks. Several times, the pen pokes through the paper, and Daichi curses under his breath, but it doesn't stop his heart from racing with the anticipation of having an actual plan to follow. If only they had thought of this sooner.

"Remember the planetarium show, Suga?" Asahi asks. "If not, I can describe everything to you. But, let's start with the moon because it's the easiest. Where is it compared to you? On your left, right, in front of you, or behind? And how close does it seem?"

"Left. And in front I guess." Suga takes his time to continue. "I think it's sort of close? Closer than farther, if that makes sense."

"Got that?"

Daichi nods and says, "Yeah," scanning the sky through the front windshield this time.

"The road curves back and forth so much, Daichi, it's impossible to tell just yet," Asahi informs him calmly, reading his mind. "We haven't gone far enough. Each pond is on a different side of the mountain, so once we get a little closer and we map a few more things, we'll be able to see how things match up."

"Okay, Suga. How about Polaris, the North Star? It will be the brightest in the sky."

The ace goes on to name and describe constellations, Suga describes their locations when he can, and Daichi transcribes that to the map. Orion's Belt? Ursa Minor, The Little Bear? Yeah, I know it doesn't really look like a bear. All the while Asahi glances between the map and the sky outside, driving the fastest he can on the straight stretches, only slowing on the turns. During the pauses when he's not scribbling down Suga's answers, he glances at the long-haired spiker in admiration. When had Asahi gotten so damn dependable?

The temperature in the car seems to rise as the minutes rush by and the piece of paper gets more cluttered. The captain grows more and more antsy, but tries keep up a collected exterior.

When Asahi slams on the breaks, sending Daichi flying against the seatbelt, he grabs the homemade map, rolls down his window, and sticks his entire upper body out. His head flicks back and forth between the paper in his hand and the glittering canvas above so quickly it looks as if his neck will snap off.

Daichi's heart thuds loudly against his ear drums, while Suga asks, "What is it?"

"It's not this one," Asahi murmurs, falling back into his seat and preparing to execute a U-turn on this narrow road. Eyes wide, he says, with more urgency. "It's not this one. It's the other one."

"Really? How sure are you?"

"Pretty sure," Asahi replies.

The captain stares at Asahi incredulously. "Pretty sure? It's right there. We can't turn back if we're not entirely sure that Suga's not up there. Do you know how long it will take to come back if we're wrong?"

"He's not there. It terrifies me too, being wrong. But didn't you say earlier that we have to make a choice, take a chance?" Asahi asks, halfway through the turn. "That was a blind choice we made, but now the stars are telling me—my gut is telling me—that he's not here. True, I'm not one hundred percent sure, there's room for error, but… Please trust me, Daichi, Suga."

"I trust you," Suga whispers. Daichi blinks and then nods.

Their ace is asking them to trust him, and how many times have they relied on him, as their final line of defense, as their last hope? And now, with that familiar determination burning in his eyes, how can they not? Asahi presses his palm against the horn and holds it there for five seconds. The sound is loud and resounds in the captain's ears even after Asahi's hand has lifted away.

"Did you hear anything on your end, Suga?"

"Ha," Suga says. "No. Only silence here. Ha ha ha."

Asahi turns to Daichi, looking alarmed at the sound of Suga's slurred words and breathy laughter, so feeble and out of place. He's pretty sure that his own expression mirrors Asahi's, so he nods again—because that seems about all the communication they need between them right now—and Asahi takes off fast, traveling back down the road like a rollercoaster.

"We're on our way, Suga."

Suga's sniffling grows louder. "Thank you so much. I never thought… Everything you've done… I don't deserve it."

"Of course you do," Asahi replies immediately. "You've always been there when any of us had troubles. You always lent your ear and your time."

The setter just breathes. They all just breathe for a moment. Then, out of the blue, Asahi declares that he's going to call an ambulance and to Daichi's surprise, Suga says that he doesn't care. The setter sounds completely worn out and would probably agree to anything his friends posed to him.

Daichi says, tentatively, "Earlier you were so opposed. I'm glad you changed your mind."

"Was I?" Suga asks. He sounds momentarily confused and then seems to lose interest in his question and follows up with a tired "Oh. Ha ha. I guess… I guess it's okay."

"You must be cold and hungry and hurt. We should have brought you something—"

"I'm not cold," Suga whispers. "I'm not cold anymore…so it's okay."

"That's…" Asahi starts.

Daichi meets his distressed gaze for a second. "That's not good, Suga." If Suga isn't feeling cold does that mean that he's lost feeling in his extremities, or maybe his mind is so far removed from his current situation? Could he get hypothermia? It's so warm in the car that Daichi's unsure what it feels like outside right now. Earlier, he was scared to think about what a 'game over' situation would look like in real life—now this is getting too close for comfort. He tells Suga, "You have to stay awake and keep talking to us."

"I'm…at four percent."

"What?"

"My phone's at four percent… It's…gonna die."

"Okay," Daichi says, trying to sound calm. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Okay, Suga. It's going to be okay."

"Maybe…" Suga says. "I'm…at four percent too…you know?"

As if they weren't already feeling the time pressure. "No, we're going to find you before then, okay?" the captain reassures. This hurts. Hearing Suga's voice like this hurts. The vice-captain can barely string a sentence together.

Again, Daichi recalls that same memory from his childhood, that memory he can't seem to shake right now, because everything—from this road to the darkness to his sense of dread—is reminiscent. Except now he understands that things have the potential to get so much worse.

"Promise me," he all but begs, "that you won't give up even if you're phone dies, because we're still coming for you. Promise me."

"I have to…pee again," Suga mumbles to himself. "Too tired."

"I'm calling now," Asahi states. "We should get there first. But they should be right behind us."

Daichi picks up the phone from the cup holder and disables speaker phone. He can hear the beginning of Asahi's conversation with the emergency responders, the ace sounding more desperate than he had previously. Was he trying to keep up a calm front for Suga's sake?

"Are you listening? Are you still there?"

"Yeah. No," Suga says slowly. "I don't…know where…I am, remember? You're the one not…listening." That half-hearted laugh again.

"Suga," Daichi says. "You have to stay awake as long as you can, okay? We can't have anything more to happen to you. We…we're playing Nekoma next weekend, so we need you with us to beat them. And…the season finale of 'King of Basketball' is this Sunday. You can't miss that. And you'll worry your mom and dad. Me too. I—"

"I like…your voice…Dai…chi," Suga murmurs.

Don't say that at a time like this! "Suga, please, I—"

The dial tone interrupts Daichi's words. Pulling the phone away from his ear, he stares at the end screen in horror and tries desperately to call the setter back, but it goes straight to voicemail. That's when he notices seven missed calls from his mom and two missed calls from Suga's dad. It's late and they must be worried that their sons haven't come home. He's dreading having to face his mother again after running off earlier. At least the hospital will notify Suga's family so Daichi doesn't have to explain—or should he call? He can't bring himself to.

Asahi's still explaining things over the phone, and it sounds as if they keep asking him the same questions over and over again. He grows more exasperated by the minute until, finally, he all but roars, "I already told you that. Just get here!" Daichi wants to yell too. He wants throw his phone onto the floorboard. His skin is tingling with the urge to just lose it. But something about watching the anger and frustration play out in Asahi's expression sobers him. Someone has to have a cool head.

Daichi asks, "Are they coming?"

"They have to."

"How are we doing on gas?"

"I think we'll make it. But it won't get us back down."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"You're asking me? Are you?"

"I will be, once we find him."

Asahi starts to speak but cuts himself off before he can get anything out. Chewing on his lip, he hums to himself softly and thrums his fingers on the steering wheel again, features grim and tense with unspoken words. His eyes scan the road ahead and surrounding area for deer. After a few minutes, he says, "This isn't the first time, is it?"

Daichi clutches his phone harder thinking back to that time in the playground when Suga had first told him. 'It happened two weeks ago,' Suga had said. 'He made me use my mouth,' Suga said. 'I feel so dirty… It's all I can think about… I miss the old me.' Daichi shakes away the memories. He replies, "No. It's not."

"Is someone stalking him?"

"I don't know. He won't tell me anything about the person who did this."

"Really?" Asahi asks. "Do you think that it's someone we know?"

Daichi turns in his seat to face the ace fully. "It's got to be, right? Someone from school or someone from the neighborhood. And he must have threatened him with something really bad for Suga not to say anything at all." Maybe he can bounce his theories off of Asahi to see if he's crazy and overstepping, or maybe on the right track. He hasn't let himself ponder what to do with the information if he obtains it, because Suga obviously doesn't want to do anything. But at least he'd know. Then, maybe he could protect his friends.

"That's a good point." Asahi breathes heavily. "Still, I can't believe he's been pretending everything's fine all this time. I can't imagine—That sounds so hard."

"Yeah."

XXX

The car runs out of gas just before the end of the road. The headlights catch on the shiny metal surface of a bike in the middle of a large, open area several dozen paces ahead, a few picnic tables also illuminated while the rest of the scene masked in darkness. Leaving the car running, the two boys step out and shiver in unison. They can see their breath in front of them. The yellow lighting, the swaying branches overhead, and the sheer silence of being removed from civilization. It's creepy.

They start down the road, eyes peeled for the silver-haired boy. A bag—Suga's schoolbag—lies on its side, its contents half spilled out in the dirt. Asahi approaches it slowly and crouches down.

"Suga?" Daichi calls out, the setter's name getting stuck in his throat. He tries a second time. "Suga! Suga, can you hear me?" Looking around, Daichi's gaze lights on more of Suga's belongings—a shirt, a coat—strewn about. Stepping around a puddle of puke, he shouts again.

"There's blood here," Asahi says quietly. And then he stands and starts off toward the trees, following the trail of crimson. The captain follows at a jog, heart beating a mile a minute, using the flashlight on his phone to guide them. The trees become smaller and sparser as the ground slopes down. Daichi thinks he catches a glimpse of the pond through the branches and is staring at the surface when he runs into Asahi's back.

"What…?" Fear causing the light to shake, Daichi follows Asahi's line of sight.

"Daichi, I can't," Asahi gasps, taking several steps back, voice muffled by his own hand covering his mouth. "You have to—I'm sorry, I can't…"

Daichi nods vaguely, hearing the sound of Asahi retching as if he's underwater. He understands the ace's terror.

Suga.

The boy's body is curled into the fetal position, hands tied together with some kind of cloth, with only one sock on. His skin is pale as can be, each mark on his body as stark and noticeable as writing on a dry erase board. Red-purple bruises, blue-tinged fingertips, brown dirt clinging to his forearms and knees, red blood. A lot of blood. Swallowing, Daichi lowers himself to kneel beside the setter, noticing many more, smaller scratches and bruises. With eyes closed, he stretches a hand out to Suga's face, having already winced at how crooked and obviously broken his friend's nose is, only opening his eyes when he feels Suga exhale and knows the boy is breathing. His shoulders sag.

"He's alive," he calls to Asahi. He's alive. He's…

Daichi first tries to untie Suga's wrists, but his fingers shake too much and the knot is tied so tightly he can't get it undone. He only ends up cursing and trembling even more. Cold, he's so cold. He fumbles with his jacket and covers the setter's middle. Scooping Suga's hands into his own, he blows on them, ignoring the encrusted dirt and dried vomit. His feet. His ears, his nose. Daichi doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know how badly Suga is hurt—does he have any broken bones?—so moving him is out of the question, even though the warmth of the car seems promising. It now feels miles away.

"Asahi. Bring me Suga's coat and whatever clothes are over there. We need to get him warm." And then quietly, to the vice-captain, "Suga? Suga. Hey, we're here. Okay, Suga. Just hang on a little bit more." He pulls Suga's upper body carefully into his lap, holding him closely and rambling. "I'm sorry, Suga. I know you probably don't want to be touched right now, but it's cold out. It's pretty cold. When we go for our practice match I hope it's not this cold, especially leaving so early in the morning. I mean…"

"These are the only things I could find," Asahi says, handing over the coat and shirt without looking directly at Suga's unconscious form. "He didn't have his practice stuff, so… And I couldn't find his pants or anything. How is he?"

Doing his best to cover the exposed parts of Suga's body with the clothes while not jostling the boy too much, Daichi says, "I don't know. I really don't know."

"The ambulance should be here soon."

"That's good," Daichi hears himself respond. He stares at Suga's bloodstained face, wanting to wipe away the mess but not wanting to cause him any more pain. Asahi says something about going to wait by the road and the captain nods.

He doesn't know how long they wait. It's hard to distinguish lengths of time when everything is so motionless and quiet. He counts Suga's breaths. He counts his own. He stays statue still, even when his legs start to go numb and a strong gust of wind brings tears to his eyes. Suga was right; the stars are much brighter here.

Then, Asahi's shouts of "over here!" break through the silence, and before Daichi can question anything, flashing red lights are dancing across the trees and the ground. Tires are crunching across gravel. Car doors slam, unfamiliar voices join the mix, and then Asahi again: "This way!"

The paramedics circle the pair, bringing a stretcher and various medical instruments. They check Suga's pulse and his eyes, examining his hands and taking his temperature, all while firing question after question at Daichi, most of which he doesn't have an answer to. Someone cuts the neck tie around Suga's wrists, revealing the chafed and bleeding skin beneath. Daichi moves aside and they lift the vice-captain onto the stretcher and proceed to carry him to the ambulance.

"Are you riding to the hospital with us?"

Both teens nod. "Yes. Thank you."

Asahi rides up front, while Daichi joins the group in the back. There's a lot of movement, but none of it is frantic or rushed, and every one of the paramedics projects an aura of calm that allows the captain to sit back in his seat. They're professionals. They're going to help us. When the back doors are shut firmly and the rumble of the engine reverberates through the vehicle, Daichi sighs. He's so glad to get off this fucking mountain.