(A/N): this chapter is all angst sorry not sorry
Chapter 8 – what it's like without youBeing a professional athlete has its perks. Ushijima was able to get surgery to repair his ruptured ACL, MCL and avulsed fracture within the week. The few days he stayed at the hospital, while it wasn't required but was requested by you, gave you enough time to prepare your apartment. You wanted to make it more accessible for him.
As you reassemble your home to ensure Ushijima will be able to get whatever he needs in one central location, you video call Iwaizumi. He answers before you get a chance to rethink your actions and the speed of his reply surprises you since he claims to be such a busy guy.
"Hey," he greets.
You find yourself staring, mildly confused before managing a, "Hey," in return. Not quite looking at him per se, but just needing a moment to realize he's picked up already.
It takes everything in you to stabilize your shaking hands so that you can prop your phone against some brown banana on the kitchen counter. Ushijima's the only one who eats bananas, so they've been abandoned and thoroughly aging.
When you position it correctly, you finally look at the screen more carefully and realize your impulsiveness caused you to forget being considerate of the time. You have to squint at the dark projection of Iwaizumi illuminated by a dim bedside lamp.
"Sorry, I forgot to check. What time is it there?"
"It's 1 a.m," he replies offhandedly.
"Sorry."
"It's fine, you didn't wake me or anything."
"Oh…" you say slowly, your mind having trouble interpreting his words. You haven't been able to sleep well lately in that stiff chair next to Ushijima's hospital bed. "Sorry," you say again.
"It's fine, Youko."
You find yourself entranced by Iwaizumi's glossy orbs and forget the task at hand. If he's bothered by your staring, he doesn't say anything.
"Oh right, I-I need to…" you mumble quickly while turning on your heels. You evaluate the state of the living room and realize it requires a lot of cleaning before actual rearranging. "I need to clean," you state more to yourself than to inform Iwaizumi.
Before he has a chance to reply, you bend over to pick up some wrappers on the ground and gather the abandoned snacks on the coffee table. You sigh when you spot a collection of crumbs on the sofa, knowing Ushijima wouldn't be happy with your mess.
"Are you okay, Youko?" Iwaizumi tries weakly. His little voice isn't loud enough to penetrate your jumbled thoughts, so he tries again a bit louder.
"Huh?" you ask, glancing over your shoulder quickly only to continue cleaning.
"I asked if you're okay Youko," Iwaizumi says more loudly and firmly this time.
You frown slightly but the question doesn't stop your methodical movements. "I'm fine," you say quickly.
There's a pause, like Iwaizumi is intently evaluating you from the other side of that little screen. You know what he's doing but you tell yourself to ignore his calculating gaze.
"No, really Youko. Are you really okay?"
You sigh sharply, his innocent words suddenly striking a nerve. "What do you think, Hajime?" you snap.
You know it's not his fault for what's happened, but you've been holding back all your real, angry feelings when you were with Ushijima. You feel your heart beat a bit harder, your blood becoming a bit warmer. You've never been good at suppressing your emotions and it's the first time you're letting your frustration surface. You know you'll regret this but it's easier to be angry with a person than at some unlucky, shitty circumstance.
The silence makes you scrub the table harder and throw things more aggressively into the trash. When Iwaizumi speaks again, his voice is small, careful and unable to mask his concern. You feel bad, but at the same time you don't really. It's hard to explain.
"I'm worried, Youko. You just turned down some good opportunities to take care of Ushijima," he says softly. "It's a ruptured ACL and fracture. He'll need assistance, but you won't have to be home all the time."
You scoff and the coldness of it makes Iwaizumi shudder. "Are you saying I shouldn't take care of him?" your voice rising. "I should be with him. He needs me."
Iwaizumi sighs tiredly and it infuriates you even more. "I understand that. I just don't think you should drop everything for him right now. You need to continue building your portfolio if you want to find real work or get into a good college."
"You think I don't know that?" you snarl.
"Youko, calm down. I'm just… I'm just worried, okay? Would it kill you to let me worry about you?"
You drop everything you're holding and storm to your phone and those cursed bananas. You snatch your phone and then scowl at the bananas before tossing them into the trash. You were being optimistic when you thought you'd maybe eat them.
You glare at Iwaizumi through the screen, making sure to exaggerate your features so that he can't deny seeing your anger. "You can't be dictating my life when you're halfway across the world, Hajime. You can't say shit like that when you're not here."
Your hands shake gripping the phone so tightly and the boiling anger in you makes your eyes fill with tears. You hate that you always cry when you're angry.
"What do you want me to say, Youko?" Iwaizumi growls. It's the first time he's really raised his voice at you and the sharpness he adds startles you. "You're being selfish if you think you can keep stringing me along forever. You can't expect me to stay in Japan to be with you, but not be with you. I'm trying my best over here."
The air around you thickens, and the reality of the situation hits you like a truck. You feel your legs giving away from under you and a solitary tear trickles down your face. The impact of the ground against your knees ignites a sharp pain but the feeling goes over your head. You heave, trying to take in any air you can, and the tears begin to stream down your face faster and faster. When did it start being so hard to breathe?
Your vision blurs and you can no longer see Iwaizumi. The sharpness in his eyes is embedded in your mind and you start to wonder when his face became so cold looking at you.
Iwaizumi's been distant since he left. After a few short months, he stopped calling every day, stopped telling you what he made for dinner and stopped telling you about the new friends he made, reassuring you he wasn't lonely.
But he was, and he hid it from the person he loved the most. The person he still loves the most.
"I'm sorry, Youko…" his voice trails. "I'm stressed from school and work. I-I didn't mean that."
You stare blankly just off of the screen, not having it in you to look at the person you one day stopped putting first. The person you stopped making a priority for. The person you realize you understood so little about because he hid so much from you.
You reply with silence. You don't see the way Iwaizumi's lips quiver realizing what he's done. You don't see the way he visibly regrets spilling the words he never meant to share with you. He's hurting yet again, and you refuse to let yourself see it.
"We can talk when we've both calmed down," he mutters. "Bye Youko."
When you hear the little sound signaling the end of your call, you let your phone slip from your fingers with a loud clatter. You slump even further, grasping your legs tightly against your chest and bury your face into your knees. You shudder, unable to hold back the onset of sobs that overcome you.
What kind of person hurts their best friend this much? What kind of person expects their best friend to be there for them when they so desperately wanted to, but couldn't? You realize this whole time, that person has been you and you hate yourself so much for it.
You're pathetic. That's what you are.
When Ushijima returns back home, you don't mention your fight with Iwaizumi. Neither of you have made an effort to reconcile and you'd be lying if it didn't make you uneasy. It was unfair for you to make amends and ask for forgiveness. You didn't deserve it.
Hiding your fight is added to the list of things you've decided not to tell Ushijima. You figure he doesn't need another thing on his plate, and you know you have to be strong for him during this critical time.
You spent so much time reading books and articles to learn more about helping the physical components of the recovery process, that you haven't had a chance to think about how to help him emotionally. His dreams have been crushed and there isn't possibly a book out there to give you the right words to say.
The few days Ushijima spends at the hospital before his surgery gives you enough time for cleaning and furniture rearrangement, but it isn't enough for you to learn how to cook. Even though Ushijima isn't great at it, he's still better than you at cooking. Your meals always consisted of either him cooking or you grabbing takeout. With training came a strict diet and so he liked being able to manage it himself.
You know that for the next while, he won't be going through vigorous training like before, but you know he'd still want to have a clean diet. You want to maintain as many components of his pre-injury lifestyle as possible. You read somewhere that it would be helpful for someone who experienced a life-altering event.
You also know that it would help Ushijima function a bit better. Ushijima relishes in a strict routine and the reliability of a schedule helped him tick. However, you're sure maintaining a diet won't be enough.
The first 2 weeks are harsh on the both of you. Ushijima is infuriatingly stubborn and he still insisted on doing things independently. He'd leave his throne of pillows just to get a few ice cubes for his water and push you out the bathroom when he wanted to wash himself. It was frustrating to watch him struggle and it broke your heart to see him try so hard to keep his anger to himself.
You knew from the way he gripped the walls with white fists or the way he'd sharply exhale when he sat back down that he was frustrated with himself for being unable to complete the most trivial tasks.
This isn't fair. This shouldn't have happened to him.
You would keep telling yourself that, but it didn't bring any relief admitting it over and over. In the time Ushijima spends locking himself in the bathroom, you wonder if he's also in denial, if he's also furious at the universe for doing this to him. You wish he'd let his anger out in front of you. It would be better than the cold, indifferent mask he puts on.
When Ushijima finally relents in accepting assistance, it starts off small. He lets you grab those ice cubes and he lets you wipe his body down with a wet washcloth.
On the unlucky days when his painkillers don't quite settle in, he finally asks you to help him up. It's only then that you realize you physically couldn't maintain his weight draped over your thin body for very long. He's almost a whole foot taller than. That doesn't quite make it easy for you to shoulder his weight.
You tried your best to not overstep his boundaries and watched a lot of cooking tutorials to cook him better meals. His nose would scrunch marginally when you made an especially bad meal, but he never complained. In fact, he didn't speak at all aside from the occasional yes, no and other one-word replies.
You wish he'd just unleash his pent-up anger if it meant bringing back the Ushijima you knew and fell in love with. The more he tried to act strong in front of you, the more you realized he was slowly falling apart.
Ushijima lost the sparkle in his eyes and you don't know how you could bring it back. How do you bring the life back into someone whose dreams were shattered in a mere second? Of course he could always do his rehab and, try again for the next Olympics, but it wouldn't be the same. He wouldn't be the same.
Would he recover the same power in his jump? Would he build up the same unwavering confidence that defined his character? You've read enough anecdotes of world-class athletes with career-ending injuries. Has Ushijima been robbed of his dream career before he even reached his peak?
Ever since Ushijima settled back home, you'd take it upon yourself to sleep on the couch. You were afraid that you might kick his leg in your sleep and he never said anything about the sleeping arrangement. It isn't until you make it past 2 weeks that something changes.
You help Ushijima get settled in bed with his leg propped up and turn off the lights to let him sleep. You swiftly sneak into the adjoined bathroom and take the kind of hot shower that clears your sinuses and makes your back dry and itchy afterwards.
You wipe the condensation off the mirror and take in the hollow-faced woman looking back. It's the first time you've really looked at yourself in a while and you realize you don't recognize yourself either.
When Ushijima lost that spark in his eye, you lost something too.
You sigh before flicking the lights off and make sure to open the door slowly. Ushijima's a light sleeper and you don't want to ruin his rest with a creak of the door. You glance at Ushijima's dark form and find yourself staring longer than you intended. He feels so distant even though he's only a few feet away.
You tear your eyes away and pad over to the bedroom door, returning to your new makeshift bed in front of the T.V. When you manage to get a hand on the cool doorknob, Ushijima's voice startles you.
"Youko."
You turn slowly, trying to make out Ushijima's face in the dark. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" you ask apologetically.
"It's okay," he states plainly. It doesn't reassure you.
"Did you need something, Toshi? Do you still have water?"
"I need you, Youko."
Your breath hitches and you find yourself frozen to the ground. It's the most he's managed to say to you since the accident and you find yourself wondering if your mind's conjured up hopeful thoughts again.
"You need water?" you clarify.
"I need you, Youko," he repeats firmly. It occurs to you that you weren't imagining it the first time and the realization brings a whirlwind of emotions: shock, relief, happiness. "Stay," he states.
You haven't moved from your spot by the door but your grip on the doorknob loosens. "I can stay till you fall asleep if you'd like," you offer softly.
"No. Sleep here, Youko. Please?"
You stand in the dark, bringing a hand over your eyes and sniffle quietly. Ushijima's always been direct with his words but this time, his forwardness is laced with warmth.
The certainty in his request reminds you of the way he said "I love you" before parting ways at the train station, the way he told you that you inspire him, the way he agreed to be yours.
The desperation in his plea reminds you that even this force of nature can be vulnerable. You've never heard his voice so small before.
You ignore the sting in your eyes and the pain in your cheek from biting it so hard. Since when did you start getting used to being apart? Since when did you stop feeling cold lying on the couch by yourself? Since when did you stop longing for his touch?
But that doesn't matter.
A part of you will always love him no matter what. You were teased with the new normal of being independent, learning things on your own, getting used to your own thoughts. You've never cooked so much in your life and read so many articles about sport injuries before.
You were getting used to walking on your own two feet. For a moment, you forgot what it was like to have such a confident figure pulling you along. When Ushijima got injured, you lost some light in your eyes, your faith that the world rewards good things to good people. But his injury also taught you that the pitfalls in life can be overcome.
As your eyes fixate on the hand reaching out to you, you realize that throughout your own personal growth, a part of you will always cradle a part of his heart. Despite everything, he still loves you and you love him. You have each other and that's what makes everything okay.
A shuddered sigh escapes your lips as you wipe your eyes one more time. "Okay," you murmur.
You make sure to crawl into bed on the opposite side of his injured leg and like clockwork, you nestle yourself into his arms, resting your cheek on his chest. The warmth he radiates brings a wave of relief and the comfort you experience is indescribable.
This is where you should be.
Almost a month has passed since Ushijima got hurt and you find yourself in the parking lot of his rehabilitation centre. You usually sit on one of those hard benches that make your butt sore watching Ushijima learn how to walk normally again. It's such a trivial skill that you realize you took for granted as you watched him drench his shirt and the way the veins in his arm would bulge as he gripped the supporting bars.
Today, you couldn't watch. You couldn't watch him struggle so hard to achieve a new normal because it made the insides of your mouth bitter. You hate how nasty you've been feeling as of late. How selfish you've been feeling. And especially, how guilty you feel for hiding something so critical to you from him.
You're curled up in the backseat of your car, your phone pressed stiffly against your ear as you impatiently wait for the rings to cease. You're the one who dialed, but a part of you hopes you'll be sent to voicemail.
"Hello?"
At the sound of his voice, you feel your walls break. You haven't heard it in so long that you were beginning to forget how comforting it could sound. You forgot how much relief his voice can bring you with a simple word because all you can remember is Iwaizumi's aggressive, accusing tone that he last used with you.
You don't even manage a greeting, an apology, anything, before you burst into tears. Your vision blurs as your throat tightens, your chest heaving desperately for air. You suddenly feel claustrophobic being in such a small car. You need air but you didn't want anyone to see you like this.
"Youko…" Iwaizumi tries softly.
You bring the back of your hand to cover your eyes, as if it'll soak up the tears that won't stop trickling down your temples. "I'm sorry, Hajime," you choke. "I'm so sorry."
"Hey, it's fine," Iwaizumi immediately coaxes. "It's fine, Youko. I'm sorry too."
His words bring you a sense of relief, but they also make you sob even harder. You hate yourself for what you've done to him and it seems unfair that he has to apologize to you. You're such a pathetic person.
You let yourself wallow. It's been a month since you last talked to your best friend. It's been a month since you started living with the shell of the man you love without the support of your best friend. You'd be lying if you said it hasn't been hard.
You don't know how long you've been crying for, but you know however long it's been, Iwaizumi's been hushing reassuring words to you the whole time. "I'm here, Youko, I'm here. Please…please talk to me. Let me help," he pleads.
You wipe your eyes for hopefully the last time and grip the front of your shirt covering your chest instead. Your shuddering breaths begin to slow, and Iwaizumi waits patiently on the other line, soothing you with his soft hushes. You focus on the sound and loosen the tension in your shoulders, letting them rest against the car seat. Your breaths come and go more rhythmically.
"I got accepted to UCLA," you sniff.
"W-What…?"
"I have a month to respond and I don't know if I sh-"
"Wait, Youko. This is amazing. This is amazing news, Youko. Holy shit."
"I know…" you say quietly. "This was what I wanted. This was my dream."
You hear Iwaizumi sigh, and it makes you a little tense. "Youko, this is your dream. This is what you want. Don't talk about it in past tense like it's no longer true," he almost scolds.
"I don't know… I-I can't leave him like this. He needs me, Hajime. I can't be this selfish…" you pause. You remember the mornings when Ushijima would wake up early, simply sitting with his leg slung over the side of the bed. He'd wake up early like before, but he wouldn't feel like starting his day. Volleyball isn't there anymore to bring him out of bed. "He doesn't get to achieve his dream… I feel so… so guilty… so selfish. I'm so happy I got in… but I'm so heart wrenchingly sad. I wish he could have this. I'd do anything to let him have his dream."
Iwaizumi is silent for so long that you pull your phone away to check if he's still there. You realize it's almost 4 p.m. which is when Ushijima's appointment finishes. You realize that means it's almost 4 a.m. for Iwaizumi.
"Youko, don't do this to yourself…" he starts quietly. He sounds so… hurt. Like he's hurting for you and the thought that he's feeling this way because of you gnaws at your heart. You don't deserve him. "He's strong, Youko. For once, you need to choose yourself."
You feel a new onset of tears and you hate yourself for being so emotional. They were the words you needed to hear but didn't want to hear. You hate that you feel this way.
"He'll be okay, y'know. He can take care of himself."
"N-not right now he can't."
"Maybe not now… but he will."
The idea of Ushijima being okay on his own was something you never imagined. You always imagined the two of you together, you supporting him, helping him achieve whatever his heart desires. You love him so much, the thought never crossed your mind that he should have any less. And you know that right now, you're what he needs. You're what he needs to get through this.
"Youko, do you remember that painting you did in high school? With the sunflowers?"
You're startled by the question. When you really give time to think about it, you remember Iwaizumi's horrendous post-volleyball practice stench and vaguely, the deep interpretation he made of your work.
"Yeah, I think I do."
"Well…" you hear him scratch his head, knowing he's getting a little flustered bringing up something he said long ago. "Ushijima's your sun. There's no denying it. I know you love him so much and I know he loves you too. But… he doesn't have to shine the brightest. He's the sun… but you are the beloved sunflower. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to achieve your own dreams, you deserve to shine, Youko. Please remember that."
(A/N): Can't remember if I mentioned this before, but this fic will be ending in the next chapter! Thanks to everyone who has made it this far – kinda crazy that it's going to take about 6 months for me to finish this story. I hope the relationships have felt authentic to you and that you experienced at least of fraction of the feelings I felt when writing while you were reading!