First part of this chapter takes place before the current storyline. Also there's a lot of phone conversations in this (aka forcing myself to practice writing dialogue.)

Ema was pretty confident in her understanding of the German language. Even so, she was sure there was a highly specific word she was missing that perfectly describes the feeling of accidentally manifesting something disastrous.

It started the week before her regular coffee sessions with Kuroo began; when she first felt the pangs of gratitude over his handling of her breakdown outside the history department building. In reflecting on her friends and the ways in which they meandered into her life, Ema had carelessly allowed herself to think about the last time she remained so open.

Ema and her parents made the decision she would attend university in England shortly after her second year of high school. Her mother was English, after all, and sending Ema abroad would provide the family with bragging rights back in Japan as well as the opportunity to parade Ema around her mother's circle of old-money friends. To her, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to spread her wings and experience something new, exciting, and undeniably her own. It wasn't that she didn't want to go through life alongside the Miyas, but with there being two of them, twins in fact, Ema distinctly felt the limits that surrounded their relationship—Atsumu and Osamu resonated with each other in a way that she never could. So when offered the chance to make memories of her own, she jumped with both feet off the ground.

And when she landed, she stumbled full-force into Daniel Collins.

A fast friend, they met during her first year in a mandatory writing class. Eager to have a friendly face around in a new country, Ema latched on, and after a few months of being attached at the hip; to and from the library, trips to various museums in London, and late night study sessions in the dormitory common rooms, the two found themselves in love.

Ema's parents loved him, too. Why wouldn't they? Daniel came from a respected family, one that just so happened to be in the same business as her father. He ticked all the boxes: well-connected, wealthy, attractive, polite. He withstood the eager cooing and prodding from her parents on their occasional visits with grace and an almost simpering smile. In their final year of university together, she wasn't surprised to be returning to Japan with an engagement ring.

At the airport, waiting to greet her, Atsumu screamed in excitement. Osamu smiled and saved his scream for the pillow on his bed later that night.

Daniel's plan had always been to finish school and then get married. He finished his degree and promptly fell on one knee for Ema. It felt as if his life was taking its natural course, like a leaf assuredly following the flow of a stream, to find itself at the inevitable conclusion of settling down and making a life.

A letter arrived shortly after Ema's return home—they allowed themselves a month to get their families in order before moving on to wedding planning and figuring out which curtains would look best in their new London flat. Said letter dropped a boulder into their happy little stream.

Ema remembers the fight vividly, recalling the pained shouts from her fiancé over the broken connection of their long-distance phone call.

You never told me you were applying to graduate school.

What do you mean you're staying in Japan?

How are we supposed to make long-distance work for six years?

In truth, Ema had always intended on continuing her education. Her dreams of research and teaching were kept close to her chest as her parents fully intended her to graduate, get married, and join the family firm in some capacity. But then her undergraduate advisor put her in touch with Dr. Takeda, who sounded so genuinely enthusiastic about Ema's work that she felt it would be rude to not apply to the program where he taught. When Daniel asked Ema why she never said anything about applying to graduate school, let alone programs halfway across the world, all she could muster was:

Once you say it out loud, it can't be undone.

And say it out loud she did.

They agreed to try long-distance, mostly out of sincerity but also for the sake of saving face with their parents. Video calls and diary-esque emails were easy to keep up with, at least for the first six months of Ema's first year back in Japan. Little by little, however, the silences in between became less deafening, more welcome, more right. Before she knew it, Ema was buried under the weight of classes and teaching and new friends and an unearned freedom from her relationship with Daniel.

Which is how, on Thursday, one day before her not date with Kuroo and reunion with Atsumu, Ema found herself on the receiving end of a phone call she had simultaneously been dreading and expecting.

"Don't you think we should stop kidding ourselves? I think I probably knew months ago but couldn't bring myself to really think about it."

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Hah." A joyless laugh. "I don't think you have anything to be sorry about, really. We, well….I guess I'm in a similar situation."

"I didn't think it would end like this."

"The point of getting married is that it doesn't end, Ema. But for the life of me, I can't remember the last time I thought about how much I love you. Isn't that sad?" There was no bite to his words, only resignation.

"Yeah." A deep, steadying breath. "What are we going to tell our parents? Oh god, Daniel, what am I supposed to do with the ring?" Ema's whole face lit up in a red flush, eyes snapping to the jewelry box on her desk.

"What you do with the ring is up to you. It's yours, it was for you." If Ema wasn't witnessing the crumbling of a life full of plans, she would have thought Daniel's statement was sweet. "As for our parents…" A stifled groan, "I might need some time to gather the courage for that particular conversation."

"Me too. My mother is going to be livid." Ema allowed herself a dry laugh, imagining her mother's scrunched face and the steam that would escape through her ears.

A long silence settled between the two.

"I'm still going to miss you, Ema." Shit. Shit shit shit. The weight of it all finally hits her, punching the breath from her lungs.

"Goodbye, Daniel."

The line went dead and Ema allowed herself to feel both the relief and emptiness of the end of her engagement all at once. Tears slipped out easily, now, spurred on by shallow breathing. She wanted to wallow in those feelings a little while longer, but knew she would eventually explode with how tight her chest felt. Quick fingers navigated through her contacts list and dialed.

"What the fuck Ema don't ya know it's like 6am?"

"Are you in Tokyo yet?"

"Jesus Fuck 'course not. Our bus leaves in a couple'a hours. Should be there by 4. There some emergency I don't know about?" Atsumu's tone shifted to concern. She took a steady but wet breath.

"Not...really. But, 'Tsumu, if you can, come over as soon as you get into the city, yeah?"

"Shit Ema yer scarin' me."

"It's fine. I'm fine. I just want to see you."

"If yer gonna be fuckin' cryptic over the phone, you can bet I'll needle it outta ya when I get there."

"I'll burn that bridge when I get to it." She laughed flatly.

"Get some sleep, Em. Take the day, tell yer teachers ya got the flu or something. Ya sound like shit and there's 500 kilometers I still gotta cover before I can save yer ass." Ema smiled weakly into her phone. She could always count on her best friend—no, brother—to talk her down.

After hanging up, Ema fired off a quick email to the professor she was supposed to meet with later that morning, pulled her coziest sweatshirt over her head, and flopped back into bed. Nearly six years of memories hit her like a brick as her eyes closed. She felt guilty at the wave of relief she felt when Daniel said it was over, like she subconsciously knew. But, the relief didn't dull the pain, either. It felt like she was being given up on. How selfish, she sniffled, to want to be wanted but not want them in return.

Her phone buzzed. She ignored it. It buzzed six more times before she threw her blankets off and picked it up from where she left it on the floor, too tired to return it to its charger. At this rate, Ema never wanted to look at her phone ever again. She did anyway.

(7:45) From: Oikawa-

Where the hell are you

(7:45) From: Oikawa-

I swear to god if you forgot our breakfast date I'm poisoning your next coffee

(7:45) From: Oikawa-

Iwa-chan is calling me dramatic and it's YOUR FAULT

(7:46) From: Oikawa-

Wait are you okay though?

(7:46) From: Oikawa-

Call me bitch

Ema didn't bother to read the rest of his messages.

(7:47) To: Oikawa-

I feel sick sorry to cancel. I'll bring milk bread penance when I'm feeling better

Oikawa appeased, a few texts to Suga and Yachi apologizing for missing their lunch together later, and Ema returned to moping. She wasn't sure how long she laid in bed, vacillating between guilt, heartbreak, and a quiet sense of calm. She had never felt this conflicted about anything before. Ema's life, up until this point, had been full of direction and surety with clear roads leading from point A to point B. This was the first time she wasn't entirely sure how she felt or what she should do about it. What she wanted to do about it. Her stomach growled. Her phone buzzed. She closed her eyes and slept some more.

##

Atsumu was a good friend. He knew this, even if his brother and his teammates (and definitely his boyfriend, but they had an understanding) called him an asshole no fewer than three times a day. But he also knew, that they knew, underneath the jabs and biting sarcasm, that Atsumu would go to bat for them at the drop of a hat—even though he would rather die than play baseball instead of volleyball (he'd never been very good at keeping metaphors straight.) Getting an early morning phone call from the person he considered to be his baby sister, the same age be damned, freaked him out thoroughly. It's why he practically begged coach Foster and Mein, his captain, to be let out of their team meeting early, so he could race from the hotel where they were staying to Ema's apartment near campus. His reputation as a snarky asshole aside, both Foster and Mein knew that Atsumu would never do anything to jeopardize his play so close to a game, and reluctantly let him go early.

It's why he's knocking on her door with a barely restrained urgency. He only has to wait half a minute longer before the door opens and he's greeted by Ema, sandy hair in a figurative bird's nest, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, green eyes glassy and red-rimmed.

"Usually I like bein' right but fuck. Ya really do look like shit."

"It's good to see you too, 'Tsumu." Ema was either not in too much trouble to make a joke, or was covering something up with humor. Probably both. They retreated into her apartment and she flopped onto the couch, not even bothering to remove the blanket from over her head. Atsumu looked around and found her small living room mostly the way he remembered, only with a few dirty dishes in the sink, probably left over from the night before. Nothing that spoke to an all encompassing tragedy. That, or whatever happened had happened very recently. He sat on the couch, lifting her head so it laid in his lap.

"Ya gonna tell me what's goin' on now? 'Cause I can call 'Samu and we'll tag-team this outta ya." He half-threatened, regretting it instantly at the way Ema winced at the mention of his twin. He still hadn't figured out what that shit was about, but if that rat-shit bastard was the cause of Ema's meltdown, Atsumu was prepared to give him the beating of a lifetime. Shit.

Ema shrugged, still numb to the fact that she had spent almost seven hours laying in bed. Long, warm fingers combed through her hair, something the Miya boys picked up on early as a surefire way to calm her down after too many nightmares during sleepovers in a big, empty house.

"'Tsumu. How am I going to tell my parents?" The fingers in her hair stilled.

"Tell 'em what, Em?"

"It's done. 'M not engaged anymore." She mumbled into her arm. Atsumu saw red.

"I'm gonna serve his head into the trash. Swear ta' god Ema I'll kill 'im." She pulled herself upright and grabbed Atsumu's hands, alreadying forming into fists.

"Stop. It's fine...I'm actually relieved." She took a deep breath and looked properly at him for the first time since he arrived. For the first time in several months, since she last saw him around the holidays. Tight lines replaced the normally smooth and unbothered surface of his forehead, eyebrows furrowed and dyed-blond hair disheveled, probably from sleeping on the team coach and, in his rush over to her apartment, un-styled in a very un-Atsumu-like way. "I'm sorry I worried you."

"I'll forgive ya if you tell me what happened."

The only people in Ema's life who knew she was, or rather, had been, engaged to Daniel Collins, were her parents, Atsumu, and Osamu. She hadn't told any of her grad school friends, worried about gossip and the idea that people might not take her work seriously if they thought she would just leave her research behind to go off and be a housewife somewhere. She'd heard rumors when she first started the program that a student in her sixth year had her funding revoked once she got married, the department expecting her husband to financially support her instead. So no one in all of Tokyo knew about her engagement. She supposed the fewer people who knew the better for her future, but now Ema was just glad to not have to tell a bunch of people only to receive pitying looks in the grad student office.

Once he was filled in on the situation, Atsumu gave Ema a bone-crushing hug.

"I won't tell anyone, not unless ya want me to." He reassured. "But tonight, yer orderin' the greasiest take-out and I'm stayin' over." Ema rolled her eyes but cracked a smile. A small victory.

Torschlusspanik - "gate shut panic" or the fear that time is running out to act, often regarding a life goal or opportunity

Pairs well with: The Fall by half•alive