(A/N): I just want to apologize for the delayed update because I was so wrapped up with other projects I wanted to do this break that I barely got this chapter done. This one was especially tough but at the same time easy to write because it reflects a lot of emotions I've been through. Enjoy!
Chapter 7 – crushed dreamsLuckily, Ushijima isn't scheduled to play a game the day of your long-awaited high school graduation. He sits beside your mom with all the other parents, his pure size and muscle bulk making him stick out like a sore thumb. The pair was also easy to spot because many parents had their heads turned, gaping at "Miyagi's volleyball prodigy". It made your mom nervously laugh, unsure how she was supposed to respond to the sudden attention.
The parents even had the audacity to pull out their phones to snap some photos. Though, they turn away quickly when Ushijima stares back at them in confusion which actually comes off as a glare. The contrasting look on his face compared to your mom's uncomfortable smile was quite the scene to see.
It's all quickly forgotten when it's your turn to take those steps across the stage. They watch you proudly, eyes beaming, in which you return with a sheepish smile. Graduation is bittersweet. You weren't accepted to any of the schools in Tokyo. You received an acceptance from a college in a much smaller town, but you weren't happy with that. You wanted more.
A part of you regrets not applying to that American college your mentors recommended. Studying abroad seemed so surreal let alone attending a prestigious program. The little voice in your head tells you that you wouldn't have made it anyways. You saved money by not applying.
Rejection ignited mixed feelings in your heart. You had a new fire in you to achieve something empowering. However, you were also admittedly defeated. This wasn't part of the plan. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. You weren't supposed to be a failure. You weren't supposed to feel even further behind. The little voice comes back to remind you that, "New Years fortunes are always right, this year will be a curse."
You expected Ushijima and your mom to be disappointed in you. They never indicated that they'd be unhappy if you didn't make it into the school you wanted but you felt embarrassed on their behalf. No one wants their child to pursue such an unstable career. "Miyagi's volleyball prodigy" doesn't want a pathetic, unsuccessful girlfriend by his side. Ushijima has everything going for him. His renown athletic ability helped him land a career, a spot on the team that'll achieve the one true dream he's always imagined. You… you are nothing next to him.
The frustration eats you alive because you hate feeling this helpless. Your mom's perseverance to make ends meet without your dad taught you to be strong. She taught you that with hard work, you can achieve whatever you put your heart into. As long as you can keep your two feet on the ground, you can handle anything. But that was the problem; you're not handling it. That's the haunting reality of it.
Since you don't have any commitments to a city based on your education, you move in with Ushijima. Your mom bids you goodbye with teary eyes and grasps Ushijima's hands and whispers quietly when she thinks you're not looking. "Take care of her. Remind her to love herself at least as much as we do." The sight makes your throat tighten and the words make you stiff. What was there to love about you? If your passion isn't enough to get you to where you want to be, what is?
You lie in bed on top of the cool covers, staring blankly at the ceiling as Ushijima shuffles around your now shared room. You watch him place your clothes into a set of drawers from a dresser he bought specifically for you. You were feeling too tired to do it yourself and ignored his suggestion to finish up moving your things in before you took your shower. You're reminded that Ushijima doesn't like the clutter and would rather keep things in closets, cabinets and dressers instead of on the tops of tables, chairs and suitcases.
You watch him idly as he organizes your clothes neatly, trying to find comfort in the rhythmic ticking of the clock and the sound of Ushijima shuffling. You've been in deep self-depreciating holes before. You've belittled your abilities before. But you came back from it. You'd pick yourself up, figure out what's wrong and fix it. Why isn't it happening this time?
You miss Iwaizumi. You miss his calming words, his reassurance, his encouragement. You miss the push he gave when you needed it. It wasn't aggressive enough to make you recoil from the blow, but it woke you up. He reminded you why you do the things that you do. He'd put you back on track. You knew that, but you couldn't find it in yourself to tell him about your failures. It's easier to hide from him when he's halfway across the world. You can't depend on him because he's not here.
You're startled out of your thoughts when Ushijima flicks off the lights and climbs into bed. He pulls the covers from under you to drape it over you instead. He lies on his side, and despite the darkness in the room, you know that he's tentatively watching you. Ushijima's a brick when it comes to understanding emotions, but he knows something is wrong. He knows you're not okay. He just doesn't know what to do.
You roll onto your side to face him, a hand clasped under your cheek while the other is cradled near your chest. You shift closer, not enough to touch, but enough to feel the heat he radiates. You're tempted by the warmth, to feel his body cradle yours, but you couldn't fight past the feeling that it was wrong. You didn't want to taint him.
"Why do you love me, Toshi?" you whisper quietly, the words becoming trapped in the darkness as Ushijima considers his response.
Maybe he doesn't love you anymore. Maybe he'll tell you this isn't what he signed up for. This isn't the partner he wanted.
The pause is suffocating and you feel your throat tighten. You feel your eyes water and you swallow the knot trapped in your throat.
"I'm a failure," you whisper, your voice wavering slightly. "I took on all these projects in high school to better myself, but it's not enough for these colleges to want me. I wanted my art to inspire people. I wanted to connect with people. I wanted to share my work with everyone everywhere. But these schools… they don't want me." You feel your voice break and you're unable to hold back the whirlwind of emotions you've been holding back. "Why do you want me?"
Ushijima threads his hand through your hair and pulls you against his body. Your body shakes against his as you sob into his chest, grasping his shirt tightly within your shaking hands. Ushijima waits as you cry, your nose congesting uncomfortably, your eyes swelling rapidly. He lets you cry until your breathing evens, wavering still, but it slows. He holds you tightly against him until you relax, until you stop shaking. You listen to his even heartbeat and his even breaths and it gives you something to focus on.
When the sound of your shuddering breaths ceases, Ushijima whispers into the crown of your head.
"You inspire me, Youko. You're the reason why I'm here today." He pulls away slightly to brush a wet strand of hair out of your face. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness and you're able to see the serious orbs looking back at you. "Your passion, your drive, your heart. You've taught me how to chase my dreams, how to work my hardest, how to love. What is there not to love about you? Are you unhappy with yourself, Youko? I don't understand."
You feel the onset of tears and choke a sob. You know he means everything he said, but why don't they mean anything to you? Why isn't it enough to put you back on track?
"I'm working hard, I'm trying my best, but I'm not where I want to be," you try to explain. "Here you are playing for Japan's national team, attending the Olympics next year, and then there's me. Just plain old me. I feel like I'm drifting further and further away from my dream. It's like people don't quite understand my art. They don't understand me, and I think that's what hurts the most. I'm giving everything I have."
Ushijima strokes your head soothingly, taking his time to muster a response. You tell yourself to focus on his breathing and to hold back the tears that want to so desperately leave your swollen eyes.
"Not everyone will be able to understand your art. But that doesn't make you less of a person or less of an artist. People don't have to understand your art to understand your passion. This is you, Youko. You shouldn't change that."
You realize the words you hear are only in your head, in Iwaizumi's voice. You wish he could be here to tell you that. He would know the right thing to say. He would know how to comfort you.
You shut your eyes, feeling the dull ache in your chest become sharper as you force your thoughts away from Iwaizumi. You want to cry in frustration that the person you need most isn't here with you. That the person you need most isn't the one right in front of you.
You take measured breaths as you wait for Ushijima's reply. You wish with your whole being that he can say what you want to hear, what you need to hear. You're met with Ushijima's baritone voice, his concerned eyes studying you, brows slightly wrinkled in confusion.
You heart sinks slightly when you realize he won't be saying what you need to hear. He understands that you're hurting, but he doesn't know how to help. He doesn't understand you. Your heart squeezes when you only get four words in return.
"You'll get there, Youko."
You never discover that breakthrough you were hoping for. It's been over half a year since your breakdown with Ushijima and you don't find yourself "getting there". You texted Iwaizumi a month afterwards about the rejection and let all his calls go to voicemail.
You knew he'd know what to say, but somehow you didn't want to let yourself hear it. You didn't want to hear him tell you you're amazing and gifted and so much more than a school rejection letter. You wanted to wallow, self-deprecate and punish yourself. You wanted to remember the hurt and disappointment so that you would never let yourself feel this way again.
Somewhere within yourself, you also knew that wasn't the only reason why you didn't want to pick up. You didn't want the reminder that you needed someone else to bring you back. Someone other than your lover, your partner and most precious person. You never had a problem with depending on Iwaizumi during emotional setbacks, but for some reason you wanted this time to be the one where you could depend on Ushijima.
Ushijima is here with you. He should be the one supporting you, his hand on the small of your back giving you a small nudge until you find your way again. Instead, it feels like he's holding your hand a step ahead, pulling you along in his tracks reminding you that everything will be okay as long as you're together.
And you tell yourself it does feel okay. That you are okay because you have him and he has you. You are where you're supposed to be, together with him. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said it felt right. If this is how things are supposed to be, why don't you feel okay?
Over the last few months, you take on commissioned work every now and then for some income. It's not much, but you get by. You have the comfort of Ushijima's flattering salary and you let yourself explore opportunities you normally wouldn't take. You need the experience. You need to meet people who have different interpretations of art, even if you don't quite like what they ask of you.
Today you pack up to attend a project you accepted in your hometown. It's regrettably for a month but you know it's an opportunity you can't pass up.
"I'll come back right after the mid-autumn festival," you remind Ushijima, squeezing his hand lightly as he drives you to the train station.
"Okay," he says blankly, never taking his eyes off the road.
"And I'll be back for good 2 weeks after that," you add, watching Ushijima's face carefully as he drives. You worry because you know how unhappy it makes Ushijima being apart from you. He doesn't like to be reminded of the endless time you spent apart when you were still in high school.
"Okay," he says again, his tone unable to mask his worry.
He pulls into the passenger drop-off area and swiftly unbuckles his seatbelt to get your things. You take a deep breath before following him out of the car. You watch him lift your luggage out of the trunk, his eyes downcast in a way that makes your heart clench.
Ushijima rolls the suitcase in front of you, still grasping the handle but not quite handing it off to you. He makes sure to avoid your eyes. Ever since you moved in with him, you've never been apart for more than a weekend.
"I love you, Toshi," you say. You search his eyes for any indication that he'll give you a memorable goodbye that'll keep you going the next two weeks.
"I love you too, Youko."
You grasp his hand on top of the handle and squeeze it gently, encouraging him to look at you. He does, only after swallowing thickly.
"Do your best," he manages.
You give him a small smile and intertwine your fingers. "I will."
He watches you carefully in anticipation, as if you were a fragile vase just teetering off the edge of a table. He's been on edge for a while, but you could never get him to talk about it. You didn't want to push his boundaries as it was never natural for him to share much about his feelings. He's been treading on glass around you, not quite understanding how to be the supportive figure you need. You didn't want to pressure him for not having figured it out yet.
"Will you be sad without me?" he asks, giving you his serious stare that normally intimidates most people. But you know that look, and it only means that he's trying to get his point across.
"Of course," you reply almost instantly.
He mulls your response and squeezes your hand tightly. "Will you be sad… like before?"
Your breath catches in your throat, realizing Ushijima's worry is rooted to the breakdown he wasn't able to help you out of. Ushijima looks so heart wrenchingly vulnerable in this moment and you feel guilty for resenting him for not knowing what to say. How could he? He was trying his best to understand. That should be enough for you.
"No, not like before, Toshi."
He visibly relaxes at your response and leans in slowly to give you a soft kiss on your forehead. He pauses just a few centimeters in front of your face with heavy-lidded eyes before placing a chaste kiss on your lips. It's sweet and exactly the one you were hoping to remember during your time apart. So you do just that - you commit his kiss to memory until you see each other again.
When you come back to visit 2 weeks later, you plan to head out that same night. You're tight on time and just wanted to sneak in a quick visit while you can. The timing works out nicely as Ushijima only has practice in the morning that day and the two of you spend the afternoon together cuddling on the couch watching movies and dining in for dinner.
You watch Ushijima with heavy-lidded eyes as he cleans up the takeout containers and begins to wash the utensils you ate with. You notice how his hair is beginning to tickle his neck and how his shirt hugs his broad shoulders tightly. You glance at the time on your phone and sigh, knowing it's time to leave but not quite wanting to. Ushijima will be driving you back to the station once he finishes up.
He dries his hands quickly before settling back on the couch in front of you, resting a hand on your thigh. You feel his hands moisten your pants from his rushed attempt to dry his hands. You ignore the damp feeling and find your mind crawling towards the warmth of his hand. You blink slowly at him, your chin nestled in your palm and your elbow propped on your leg.
"We should go," he says quietly, squeezing your thigh lightly.
You sigh and crawl towards him, hands on either side of his hips. "2 minute cuddle?"
Ushijima glances at his phone quickly to check the time and then slowly nods, shifting himself backwards to lean back against the armrest. You crawl closer to him, settling yourself in between his legs and leaning forwards against his chest. He wraps his arms around you naturally and you close your eyes to take in his warmth.
You feel him nuzzle his nose into your hair and breathe deeply. You rub your cheek against his chest in response, getting yourself settled even though the two of you should be untangling in a very fast 2 minutes.
Your thoughts wander to the dingy smell of the bus you have to take and the loud rumble of the train you have to sleep through tonight. You think of the comfort of Ushijima's chest and muster the confidence to suggest a change in plans. Ushijima's never been one to be impulsive. He always needs to make a plan and stick to it.
"Can I sleep here tonight?" you ask quietly. You know Ushijima is frowning even though you can't see it.
"I have practice tomorrow morning."
You let out a shallow sigh and prop yourself up to look at him. You have work tomorrow too and you'll be heading out even earlier than he is for practice. You're the one who has to travel back to Miyagi.
You match his frown, subconsciously biting your lip. "Okay…" you say slowly. "I'll go home then," your voice trails, your eyes drifting away from those mesmerizing orbs of olive.
You push yourself up from the couch to sit up and are surprised to feel Ushijima's arms tighten, bringing you back against his chest. He buries his face in the crown of your head again and his voice rumbles so deeply in your scalp that it gives you goosebumps.
"No. Stay."
The grip you have on the couch loosens and you let the heat from his body envelop you.
"Okay."
Once you return from your project, everything returns to normal. The next few months go by the same way; you take on some work here and there and Ushijima practices day and night.
You decide to apply to colleges again, having built a stronger portfolio for yourself. You feel more confident with your work this time around. You even send one to UCLA, the ones your mentors told you about telling yourself it really doesn't hurt to try. Besides, the nagging feeling of never knowing if you could actually make it would bother you forever.
After sending the applications off, you keep yourself busy to prevent yourself from obsessively checking. You aren't going to find out the results for another couple of months anyways.
One night at the studio, you're surprised to receive a call from Ushijima because you know he should currently be playing in a match right now. You pick up tentatively and stiffen when you realize it isn't his voice on the other line. Your blood runs cold when the voice tells you the location of a hospital and tells you to come immediately.
Ushijima had a freak accident; after a powerful spike, he landed awkwardly and his knee jutted out in a way that wasn't normal. You don't hear anything they say afterwards. Your head rings deafeningly and you vaguely recall reaching for the car keys with shaking cold hands.
During your drive, the horrible words repeat endlessly in your head, "Ushijima is hurt. Ushijima is hurt. Ushijima is hurt." You remember the long pause after you ask if he's okay, only to be met with the soft urging for you to come immediately.
You burst through the hospital doors, desperately searching for that familiar head of olive hair. You practically shove everyone past you and your breath hitches when you see him. You almost trip running towards him and the people who accompanied him kindly step away to give you space. You feel your feet frozen in place a few steps from his stretcher and your stomach drops when you tear your eyes away from his resting face to his knee.
It's wrapped up with so many dressings, you can barely see any skin. You aren't an expert in sport injury, but you could see that something was very wrong. The gruesome appearance of his leg makes you shudder and you swallow thickly before turning to look at Ushijima. His eyes are closed but his face is twisted, obviously in pain.
You grip his hand tightly and brush his hair away from his face, causing him to rouse. You ignore the way his sweat clings to your hand and how he immediately tries to soften his face when he realizes it's you. You know he's trying his best to hide his pain from you but you know it's there. Your throat tightens at his poor attempt and he squeezes your hand softly as a way to communicate something to you.
His face is hard, sweat dripping down his temple and his eyes looking past yours. An ice cube slides painfully slowly down your back looking at him and you can't help but notice that a light has burnt out in his eyes.
You haven't been able to manage a single word since finding him and you hold your breath when he opens his mouth slowly to speak.
"Youko," he says so defeatedly it makes your heart wretch.
"Toshi," you gasp through wet tears. When did you start crying?
You press your forehead against his and squeeze your eyes shut. You're supposed to be strong for him but you realize you can't stand to see him like this. You've never seen him like this before and you don't know what to do. His hot breath ghosts your face and you try your best to control your shuddering breaths.
You know exactly what he's going to say, the truth that you knew once you saw him but didn't want to admit out loud. You keep telling yourself, this isn't happening, it's not real.
But it is. The horrifying reality that this is real makes your blood run cold and you clench your jaw so tightly it hurts. This isn't according to plan. This isn't supposed to happen.
"I won't be playing in the Olympics anymore," Ushijma whispers so quietly that only you can hear.
It hurts you so much to hear his voice waver. The man you've known to be the most unrelenting force of nature has been reduced to a shell of who he once was. Ushijima's dreams have been crushed in a mere fraction of a second and there was nothing you could muster to comfort him.
New Year's fortunes are always right.
(A/N): Oof I'm so sorry Ushi T_T Ushijima getting injured was my main idea for this fic when I had first planned it. The fic was supposed to start after high school but I thought it would mean more with more context in how they met and fell in love. Warning: it just gets more sad tbh