WOW this one took a long time. I didn't know whether or not to even include this particular part into this story. There are additional Haikyuu characters in this chapter and I wanted to make them important to the story somehow, not just thrown in there. I have an issue when characters have no backstory.
Special Disclaimer: It starts off really dark and with another information dump but I promise it's worth it. There are too many people who have been affected by trauma to make a realistic story with only two people who have had terrible experiences. If you look at statistics of reported and suspected unreported instances of sexual violence and other traumas most likely half of the people you know have been affected in some way.
So, I apologize again because this chapter may be intense. It will be much less detailed about the trauma itself and focused more on the emotional effects that happened afterward. After this chapter the updates will be closer together. Thanks for your support!
Chapter 6 - Yet another special disclaimer above
It Must Be Never-ending
Hajikun and I stepped into the quiet building and made our way down the carpeted hallway. As usual our meeting room was the smallest in the building. Survivors of trauma were often too humiliated or upset to join a group and discuss their history in public. Many didn't come forward to get help privately. At least half the people in our group were prompted to join the meetings by our therapists. The other's had found the strength in themselves to seek out company that could understand. The familiar sprawl of chairs lay in front of us and Hajikun moved to sit down.
"I'm going to get some tea. Do you want some?" He gave a short nod before leaving me at the door.
The small table set near the entrance had mugs and an electric kettle and I worked slowly to stretch the time before the start of the meeting. We had been some of the last to arrive but the door remained open past the starting time for those running late or nervous newcomers. I'd poured both cups and set a timer for the tea to steep when I heard a familiar voice.
"Hey, hey, hey! What do we have here?" I turned to see the lanky figure of Koutarou bounding through the door. I smiled immediately, it was hard not to in his presence.
"Koutarou! It's good to see you!" My sentiments were muffled in the hug he eclipsed me in.
Seeing him was fairly uncommon as he lived in Kanto but when he visited Miyagi he brightened up our meetings. His last appearance, though, had only been a month ago and his sudden visit was unusual. He dove into conversation right away and I tried to pay attention but as I looked around I noticed someone was missing.
"Where's Keiji?" At once the mood shifted and Koutarou's smile fell. My hands flew to my hair and worried through the end of my braid. Seeing him sad was disconcerting and my brain quickly recounted everything I knew of him, obsessing over what had led to this particular bout of sadness.
Koutarou and Keiji had been new to the group at the beginning of the year and we knew from the first day that they would only attend intermittently. Koutarou spoke for both of them as he recalled the reason they sought out the group.
The spring before they arrived both boys had been training hard after failing once again advance in nationals. They were exhausted and overwhelmed and Keiji, ever the voice of reason, tried to convince Koutarou to slow down. Hours of practice had only served in shredding their muscles and dampening their spirits further, for the more fatigued they became the more their game suffered. But Koutarou, after being named one of the top three ace's in the country, felt responsible for his team's failure to compete at a higher level. He lashed out in ways he hadn't before and it became too much for Keiji to bear. No manner of level-headedness would help him stop his captain from working himself to the bone. It became their first fight.
The tension between them had only been made worse by their uncertain relationship. No one on the team would have been surprised to find that the setter and ace harbored feelings for each other had those feelings been made known. It was that argument Koutarou had used when trying to persuade Keiji time and time again to reveal how they felt. He had been sick of holding back for the sake of the team but Keiji wouldn't budge. If they entered into something romantic he wouldn't be able to trust himself to remain impartial as the team's strategist. His constant rejection fueled Koutarou's argumentative side and Keiji left him in the gym alone.
As he stormed away he wanted nothing more than to turn back but he had no notion of how to fix what they had just broken. The words they had slung at each other were already beginning to fade from memory and all he felt was regret. So much of his time was spent trying to maneuver Koutarou to perform at his best and he realized he had never truly given weight to the varying emotions of the other. It occurred to him that the reason he was so upset with Koutarou was because that had been the first time he was unable to manipulate him.
Those thoughts filtered through his head and his pace slowed. The guilt he had already been feeling was multiplied by the knowledge that he had absolutely been taking advantage of his captain who had trusted him so implicitly. He had been controlling Koutarou from behind the scenes, humiliating him, and Koutarou had never even known. He had been a large part of the reason not many took the boy seriously because his personality was so opposite. At every turn he had been defiant and mocking and yet it took Koutarou an entire year to finally break.
His feet had turned around before he made the decision but once he realized he put every ounce of energy he'd had left and ran back the way he came. By the time he had reached the school grounds he was panting from the effort. He ran to the gym and found the doors locked, cursing. Koutarou had left. He might see him the following day but he felt a desperate desire to make things right. Before he could begin pacing in his urgency he heard a faint sound from the side of the building.
His stomach felt cold because he was certain that it was the sound of crying. Slowly, he approached the sound, heart beating fast as it had during the run. Rounding the corner he felt the cold spread to his whole body. His brain, usually so sharp, seemed like it was trying not to process the picture in front of him.
Koutarou lay in the dirt, tears streaking down his face and clothes askew. It was impossible not to know what had transpired.
They were both horrified and helpless as Keiji set his clothes to rights. He held his friend and made an attempt at phoning the police but Koutarou begged him not to. His tears had not stopped and the way he clung to Keiji tore him to pieces. He wouldn't force him into anything, not anymore. His only job going forward would be to give Koutarou anything and everything he needed.
And he did. He never once left his side apart from the hours they spent at their own homes. Each morning he was waiting to accompany him to school, in between classes, during any activity outside of volleyball. The moments when Koutarou could not be within his sight were excruciating. Even their moments together were not without pain. The humiliation and violence Koutarou had endured weighed on them both.
And it got worse.
Weeks after, with both boys still struggling to cope, Koutarou fell ill. At first it seemed like an opportunity to spend time away from school and club activities; to take the time off he so desperately needed and hadn't gotten. He spent days in bed with fever and fatigue consuming him and his parents checking in every time they could. Although he had objected, Keiji came every evening as well casting aside concerns that he too would get sick.
Days became a week, then two, and Keiji began to feel the same coldness he had the night he found his friend. He kept his concerns to himself but poured over all the information he could find. His eyes stung from the hours of reading when the answer struck him like a train.
Neither of them had ever thought of the necessity of Koutarou taking an HIV test. How could they? It had only been a few weeks since the attack and they were both still reeling, still in shock. They hadn't told anyone; no parents, no police. No one who would have known right away. Keiji cried. He cried at his stupidity, he cried for Koutarou, he cried from the anger for what had happened. He cried all he could before he saw Koutarou so he could be strong for him.
When he next approached Koutarou his face could not hide his devastation. After minutes of avoidance and awkward silence he turned to his friend and attempted to speak but was cut short. The look on Koutarou's face was unlike any he had every seen before and he knew that they had come to the same conclusion. They both knew that the illness wasn't due to flu and that the secret, terrible event would have to be known, at least to his parents. As they cried in the comfort of each other's arms they exchanged the first utterance of 'I love you'.
Koutarou insisted on the utmost secrecy. It was clear that he needed to be tested and begin treatment but he couldn't bear the thought that his situation might be known, at least not yet. He hadn't told anyone his sexuality, let alone the rape, and having his illness known would have sent him into isolation. They agreed to see a doctor in a different district, in Miyagi, and commute when appointments were needed.
Keiji refused to leave his side and so he too made the trips. They could not be separated and that is exactly how they arrived to the trauma survivors meeting; hand in hand.
But Koutarou had arrived alone for the first time and I just knew it had something to do with his diagnoses. I knew very little of the disease but I understood from our meetings that the virus was persistent. Treatment constantly had to be monitored or changed to prevent adaptation by the virus. I thought of what I would have done, what would have caused me to lie to a person I loved. Hiding something from Keiji must have meant that Koutarou was worried, afraid of hearing something bad.
My chest felt tight and I couldn't bring myself to feel that he was wrong. I, too, would have done anything to keep pain away from the people I loved.
"Oh, Koutarou." I whispered, reaching for his hand. He opened his mouth to speak. "No, no. You don't have to say anything, I understand."
We stood together for a moment in silence, collecting our emotions. I saw the strain on his face plainly then. It made sense for him to want to spare Keiji from feeling the same way. I saw the counselor give us an encouraging look and tugged his hand in the direction of the circle, letting go to grab the cups of tea before following him.
The meeting went along as expected. Our counselor talked about the 'steps' each of us were on toward our individual recovery. There were no actual steps, no '12 Step Program' as there were for addicts. We weren't trying to cure a disease, but trying to heal our spirits. We measured how far we were in our recovery by our thoughts and feelings during day-to-day activities. How did we feel walking to the bus stop? Were we present when hanging out with friends or loved ones? How did we react to meeting new people? And so on.
Apparently, I was doing well. The mention of volleyball didn't seem to phase the counselor. Instead, he calmly affirmed my decision to explore things I used to love. It was a sign that I had reached a level of healing that was just one step closer to accepting that nothing had been taken from me. My attacker, tormenter, would soon no longer control my every action and reaction.
I found that hard to believe and yet I had hope. Though I tried not to observe the carefree students my age it was impossible not to see the differences between them and myself. Girls walked around with their hair silky and styled with makeup to accentuate their best features, unconcerned about the eyes that would be drawn their way. I envied them. I wanted to be them.
My sad musings were interrupted. It was no longer my turn to share and focus passed on to Koutarou. His face held the trademark grin, always present when attention was put upon him.
"What is there to say that hasn't already been said?" His open palms faced the circle around him.
Our counselor adjusted his glasses. "How about Kieji's absence at today's meeting?"
The smile faltered and his hands stayed frozen in place. He remained unmoving for a few moments as they eyes each other. Koutarou laughed, humorless and bitter, and his hands fell heavy to his lap.
"He couldn't make it."
"I find that hard to believe." I could sense the collective mood of the attendees tense and wondered if they were all holding their breath, like me.
Koutarou looked angry and it looked absolutely wrong. I'd seen him melancholy, ecstatic, exuberant, ill, deprecating, but never seething as he was. His hands were clenched into fists and I felt my hand stretch out to console him but he moved away from my touch, glaring at me.
"Fine," he turned back to the counselor, "you wanna know what's wrong?"
He paused briefly as if he was waiting for the other to back down.
"He isn't here because I didn't tell him I was coming, okay? I know you're all wondering why I'm back so soon. My last visit was only a month ago, why should I be back?" His words were coming fast. "Last month was supposed to be routine, to check the effectiveness of the ARV's. I was feeling good, practicing, seeing a therapist, going to meetings. It felt like I didn't even have- like I didn't even have HIV."
He was trembling and tears were threatening to break through his control. His anger had dissipated and we could see the frightened boy underneath. The exasperation he had felt was understandable, relatable. Being forced to talk about your feelings during a particularly difficult time was maddening.
"But the tests came back and my T-cells had dropped. It was terrifying. How could my body be sick when I don't even feel sick? And then I looked over at Keiji who looked worse off than me. He blames himself, ya know? He thinks it's somehow his fault that I've got this and no matter what I say it doesn't seem to help. Every piece of bad news beats him a little more and I can't do that to him again. If tomorrow's tests come back and it's bad then-"
He cut off again but we all knew what he was thinking. How could he let someone he loved feel the pain of his illness? Of course, when someone loves you they would endure any pain imaginable just to be with you. I knew Keiji felt that way, Koutarou knew it too. It must have been easier to lie to him rather than put him through the ups and downs of the volatile virus that is HIV.
"It's so hard. He's so afraid to touch me that we barely hold hands. I have to beg him just for a kiss. And I know it's not because of the disease. I know he's afraid to be intimate because of the abuse I endured but it still hurts all the same.
"But can I even tell him that? Can I tell him I want to do more? Would he think I was crazy for wanting that? And should I even want that because I'm a walking infection? And because my only sexual experience was forced and violent? And why can't I be normal because I just want to be intimate with the person I love but I can't even think about having sex because I'm a battered virus and I'm not a person anymore!"
His last words seemed to sit in the air, falling on the room and weighing us down. I didn't hesitate to reach out to him again and he leaned into my touch. My lungs ached because I'd been hesitant to even breathe during the tumultuous and emotional break. Koutarou was staring wide-eyed at his lap, panting, and letting his tears fall into his jeans. A round of shaky breaths could be heard as the room lapsed back into quiet expectancy. All eyes were on the counselor.
"That all sounds very hard to bear, Koutarou." His voice was steady and comforting. Koutarou's hand squeezed mine. "You are not wrong for feeling that way, after all, feelings can never really be wrong. They are teaching moments when your body is telling you something your mind cannot yet. You're afraid, Koutarou, and no one will fault you for that.
"But, why do we run from what brings us fear? Who taught us that fear is to be avoided? As I've said, feelings are teaching moments, so explore that fear. Why are you afraid?"
Koutarou blinked at his legs and looked up, confused.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Is it?"
I scooted my chair closer to him, unsure of why. Perhaps it was because I always felt that the proper physical contact could be as healing to the spirit as medicine was to the body. Our shoulders touched and I hoped my hand in his would give him enough strength. 'Keiji should be here. Keiji is who he wants right now.'
"I'm… I'm afraid of tomorrow's test results." The counselor held his hand out, motioning for him to continue. Koutarou sighed.
"I'm afraid of seeing the look on my parents' faces if things get bad. I'm afraid of dying. I guess I'm mostly afraid of seeing Keiji cry again. If I die what will happen to him? I'm afraid to leave him alone."
His words shook is all and I wasn't the only one holding back tears. I looked to Hajikun whose eyes were closed. 'He must be thinking of his sister'. He knew first hand what it was like to be left alone after someone you loved passed on. I reached out to him as well and rested my hand on his knee. His eyes remained closed but he held onto me tightly.
"Recognizing our fears is extremely important. Do you know why?" The question was directed at the group. No one came forward.
"When they are identified they become more easy to bear. When all of our fears are compiled together it is too overwhelming for us to move forward. We will always be stuck running away from it.
"Your fears, Koutarou, are founded and expected but if you try to avoid them all, then you have lost. Take each fear on its own. Understand how it makes you act. Try and figure out a way to overcome its hold on you.
"It is different for everyone. Some people funnel their fears into writing or art. Some make lifestyle changes; eating healthy, exercising. You must use your fear just as you would any other emotion."
'Just as you would any other emotion'. It seemed so simple; don't run away from your fears. But does anyone really know when they're running away? And what was I afraid of? What was at the root of all of the fear I felt?
'Sex.'
"Ah!"
"Himari, did you have something to say?" The group faced me expectantly. 'Of course. Of course I would draw attention to myself now'.
"No. My apologies."
He moved on, mouth explaining what he meant further but I was on a different track. The first thing that had come to mind when I thought of my fears was sex. Of course, it was so much more complicated than that, but was that really what all my fears stemmed from?
Tallying up my list of fears was daunting but I could no longer focus on anything else. Fear of the opposite gender, fear of being alone in a public space, fear of being attractive, fear of drawing attention to myself, fear of emotional relationships with the opposite gender, fear of physical touch.
Yes. Yes, all those could be traced back to the learned fear I had of sex. After all, sex as I knew it was non consensual, rough, terrifying, humiliating, traumatizing. If there was even a possibility that an action would lead to my thinking of physical attraction of any kind I avoided it. Even if the action might cause me to think of someone in more than a platonic fashion I shied away.
The only time a boy confessed to me I nearly had a panic attack on the spot. Attraction was linked to rape. Was it going to be possible to rewire my brain?
"Mari." The clear, solid voice broke through my thoughts.
Hajikun was looking at me intently, recovered from his earlier pain. Chairs were shifted as people began to leave. The counselor had already given his parting statement and the meeting was over. My left side felt chilly and I realized not Koutarou was no longer there.
"Where-?" I couldn't quite form a full sentence. I felt as though I had been pulled out of a dream.
"He left quickly saying he was going to call Keiji." He smiled then, a small one but any form of happiness in Hajikun's face was a sight to behold.
"That's fantastic." My thoughts were beginning to lift and I took his outstretched hand, letting myself be pulled to my feet.
"Are we still on for dinner?" He asked.
"Of course. My mom is probably already shopping. She's going to make your favorite." I made a face of disgust and he affectionately ruffled my hair.
"You'll eat it and you'll like it." I couldn't help the smile they broke across my face, hurting my cheeks. The side of Hajikun that joked playfully was a rare treat.
We exited the building together, our banter getting louder and louder as we went.
My phone rang on Sunday afternoon and I was surprised to see that it was Hajikun.
"Is everything okay?" I asked immediately. A phone call from him was rare.
"Yeah-" there was some banging and rustling on his end and my eyebrow raised high, "I think I have to cancel tonight."
More banging. His voice sounded weird, like he was talking while lifting weights.
"Hajikun, what's going on over there?"
"Stop trying to get in dumbass! It's a single occupancy bathroom!" Muffled yelling was heard followed by some grunting from Hajikun.
"I might have to take a raincheck on tonight. Shittykawa won't stop asking where I'm going. He's threatening to follow me there."
I took in the information I had and realized that Hajikun had shut himself in a bathroom to make the call. Oikawa was protesting and trying to muscle his way in. I laughed so loudly that Hinata ran into the living room to see what was so funny
"Let him come." I found myself saying although I was sure my brain hadn't told my mouth to say anything of the sort.
A pause. "What?"
My inexplicable urge to let Oikawa join us for dinner was suddenly very strong.
"Tell him where you're going and I doubt he'll want to join. If you're okay with him knowing. If he somehow still wants to join you then...Let him come."
There was silence from Hajikun but I could hear more of Oikawa's whines through the door.
He sighed. There was a creak of a door opening and then a loud crash. The last thing I heard was Oikawa saying, "Iwa-chan! I could have really been hurt-" before the line went dead.
Less than a minute later my phone chirped. One new message from Hajikun:
Dinner for 6
I counted twice to be sure. Oikawa Tooru was coming over for dinner.
