I told you I wrote a bunch of chapters. Now I'm just lightly editing and uploading like crazy. BUT I think I might be getting off track a little. So. Keep me straight?
DISCLAIMER: This story will contain mentions of abuse, self harm, and suicide. It will also contain mental health issues involving anxiety, depression, PTSD and other mood disorders. This fic is largely based off of my life experiences and I hope to do justice to what I and so many other people have gone through.
Chapter 9
You're Making Me Cry
She tossed the ball to him and ran far on the left side. He counted her steps, she was fast and eager. Tossing the ball to someone so willing felt good. Flying into the air she easily hit the ball and floated down. The pale pink of her bottom lip turned white where she was biting it and she looked to be holding back her satisfaction.
Oikawa grabbed another ball and tossed it to her. Her next run was right along the net, dangerously close to touching it, and she jumped at the center. When she hit her arm swung wide and across her chest to hit the ball directly into the ground just on the other side of the net. She laughed like she hadn't planned to do that until she jumped.
"One more?" She asked and he could only nod and watch her approach the ball bin.
His ego was stoked with every look she gave. It was no secret that he enjoyed the attention given to him. As she had pointed out he often times directed conversion toward a place where his companion uttered praise after praise. Whether the narcissism had always been a part of him or a new monster created by his prowess was unimportant. For now, he was finding this lack of verbal praise much more enticing.
Each time she hit a ball set by him the admiration she felt was clear although never addressed. It was exceedingly better to see that than to hear someone tell him how great he had looked doing something. Naka was experiencing something about him first hand and enjoying it so much. The knowledge of that and the feeling of fulfillment he got from it was consuming.
She threw the ball to him high and she ran to the sideline behind him. He had to turn his body just slightly, watching her to gauge her jump, and tossed the ball. For some reason she faltered, misstepping, and jumped with her off foot. Barely making the spike she came down unbalanced and reflexively grabbed the back of Oikawa's shirt to steady herself.
He wanted to close his eyes and commit the feeling to memory. His whole body became warm and his heart pounded but it felt good. It wasn't new, there had been people before her that he had liked, and yet it somehow was. Never had his chest actually ached for a person.
Oikawa Tooru had never pined for anyone but Naka was surprising and beautiful and endlessly interesting. In such a short time he found her complex but caring, thoughtful and yet impulsive, she was intelligent and quick to wit and laugh. And, most appealing of all, she saw right through him. She saw to his core and preferred that to the representation of himself that everyone else saw. Naka appreciated him on a deeper level than anyone he had ever known aside from Iwa-chan. No one else had ever bothered trying to see past the surface.
He could no longer categorize it as mere attraction any longer. It was clear that her wholly unique way of interacting with him had affected him on a deeper level, reaching something within him that hadn't been touched before. It was shocking and truthfully, unnerving.
"Are you okay?" His own voice sounded cold and he felt terrible but he couldn't help it.
It was common to reject something unknown. The body did it naturally do foreign objects without ever needing a conscious command. The knee-jerk reaction Oikawa had was his mind implementing some sort of self preservation. After all, after learning a bit about her he knew she had never had a boyfriend and never confessed to anyone.
She also made it plain that his history with girls had been a disappointment to her. His very personality in general had been something she had been disgusted with. To feel what he felt for someone who was just shy of complete aversion to him was insane. Nothing about it could end well.
She was still holding his shirt when he turned around and her fingers slowly released as the fabric pulled. It tingled tortuously and Oikawa's mouth pressed in a thin line. 'Act normal, man.'
"Yeah I'm fine. Sorry, I don't know what happened." She looked embarrassed.
"Want to try the back attack now?" He tried to force some friendliness in his voice and was rewarded with a smile.
They both took a simultaneous breath and then laughed awkwardly before hurriedly resetting.
She made no more errors.. Her approach was practiced and smooth. When he had been asked what type of attacker he liked to set to he had been vague but she already knew the answer anyway.
He preferred to set to people that put their trust in him completely. Those players never showed hesitation or objections. Naka had barely even looked for the ball, searching instead for the spot on the floor she would be aiming for. She knew he would hit his mark just as she would and didn't second guess that for a minute.
She was smiling again, bright and ethereal. He could see she had been more pleased with his set over Yahaba but she didn't run to hug him. Instead, she approached him with purpose and stuck out her hand.
Amused, he reached out to shake and his muscles twitched, grasping tighter when a sudden shock coursed through him. Naka seemed to feel something too. She looked him directly in the eye when she spoke.
"I'm your biggest fan." The words were so low he was still processing them as she slipped her hand away and joined Coach Irihata.
Once again she surprised him with another sudden change in demeanor. He could still hear the acid in those same words the first time they spoke. He hoped that memory would quickly be replaced by this one, where she had said it in earnest. His smile, despite his reservations about his own feelings, was so exuberant when they all gathered to apply what they learned that he received many questioning glances. There was one person in particular that refused to look his way, making his smile all the wider.
I was grateful when Aoi-chan, true to her threat the previous day, waltzed into the gym like she belonged with bento in hand. We sat near the open side door and felt the breeze flutter through as we ate. She was going on about how lucky I was and that she really hoped I was going to attend the next two days but I wasn't listening, not completely.
I was thinking of Oikawa. The morning felt like it had gone by slowly as I was in it but now it felt like time had been cut short. That might have been because the only memories I was recalling we ones with Oikawa as the star. The look on his face when Yahaba asked if I had a boyfriend. The intensity and focus in his eyes when they turned to me during his set, causing me to misstep. My pulse was racing so fast that I had to use him for balance. The tingle in my fingers as his shirt slid out of my grip. The perfect synchronization we had during the final set. Electricity that always accompanied his touch when we shook hands. The way his eyes prompted me to spill what I had been thinking about all morning.
"Aoi?" I interrupted and she huffed but stopped taking. "Is it electric?"
"Is what electric, Mari?"
"When you touch someone you like. Is it electric?"
A soft smile grew on her face.
"Yeah. It's electric." She waited for me to say something. When I didn't she spoke again. "Do you like someone, Mari-chan?"
"Yeah. I do."
Her face didn't show the shock I was sure she was feeling. Instead, she kept a the small smile on her face and returned to eating in silence. This was the other side of the usually bubbly and loud Aoi; the soft, understanding, patient side. I loved them both because I needed them both and she knew when to change. Aoi knew more about my past than most but not many details. What she did know, however, was enough to realize that my liking someone was likely to be a rollercoaster of emotion. So she stayed by my side and provided steady companionship, acting like a lightening rod for my anxiety.
I had never liked anyone before. Never for a moment in middle school, I had been to preoccupied with my brothers and volleyball, and especially not after the trauma. There was an ocean of emotion brewing underneath the surface, threatening to overtake me but the warm company next to me kept me afloat. The time to feel those would be later, in the comfort of my own home with my family to talk to if necessary.
When we finished our food I couldn't help but wish we had more time. Time to seal everything up again so I could function without issue. Aoi's parting hug was firm and she gave me a squeeze before she released me.
"You can leave any time you know. You've done your part today." She made me promise to call her if I wanted to leave early and then she left.
I practiced slow, deep breaths, counting up to six as I breathed in and counting back down when I breathed out. It was a great calming technique I used when I attempted to meditate as part of my therapy. I needed to be in the moment. I would accept feelings as they came but I had the power to decide how I reacted.
Those were the basic guidelines of healing that my therapist gave me though most times they were difficult to follow. 'If they were easy everyone would be happy as can be.' Today I was in a more solid state of mind with Hinata, Hajikun, and Aoi providing iron beams of support to keep me upright. So, I kept breathing as the group gathered together and I closed my eyes as the coach spoke about what they would do next.
I hadn't realized the meeting was over until a shadow stood before me.
"Are you sleeping?" Hajikun asked.
I opened my eyes to glare at him.
"Of course not. I was... meditating." He reached out to pull me to my feet. "So, what are we doing now?"
There didn't seem to be any set groups as I looked around. People worked in pairs all around doing what looked to be the same thing.
"We're practicing topspin. Hitting and receiving." My stomach turned a little when I saw that Hajikun didn't have a partner.
He caught on before I could say anything.
"Don't worry, I know your rule. You've played your 5 minutes with Oikawa and Yahaba. I have to be paired with Hinata but you'll be right next to us okay?"
My chest and throat felt tight as he spoke. Not out of anxiety, but of such deep appreciation and love for him. He acted like taking care of my mental health was a simple thing instead of being the burden it was. I nodded and followed him a ways to where Hinata was and sat against the wall nearest them to watch.
I realized without even looking that I was also in close proximity to Oikawa. 'Is it weird that I know the sound of his hits?' I turned to watch Matsu receive a ball with fairly heavy topspin. It flew to the side instead of bouncing up and Oikawa called out some encouragement as he retrieved it. 'Yeah. It's weird.'
Now that he had my attention it was hard to shift it elsewhere. He had Matsu try a few times and then showed him the position of his arm and hand again. There was genuine care and affection in his voice when he spoke to his teammates, some of the only people to experience that side of him.
I realized it was stupid to tell him that he acted fake outside of volleyball. If people knew what he was truly like he would have ten times more admirers than he already did. I bit my lip when I realized where my thoughts had gone and tried to focus on anything but him for the remainder of the day.
"You've been pretty quiet." Hinata said as we headed home.
We were less encumbered than before, I left my notebooks with Coach Irihata, and walking leisurely after a day of hard work. I hadn't been able to sit long during the last hours before I was requested to walk around and help technique. It wasn't physically tiresome but I was drained from expending so much mental energy.
"I'm just tired." He nodded but I could tell that he wasn't satisfied with it. "We did a great job sticking to the rules. You and Hajikun must be exhausted after helping clean up as well."
It was true that my silence was largely due to fatigue but I also had so many questions and fears that I couldn't think about during practice. I was already beginning to get lost in the labyrinth.
"It wasn't too bad. Iwa-kun would have had to clean up anyway." The nudged my shoulder. "How are you feeling about it?"
"Honestly? Really great. Like maybe I should have done this a long time ago. I might be playing today if I took it a step a time."
He looked a little sad then. I reached up to pinch his arm and he yelled out, glaring down at me.
"Stop it." I commanded.
I was happy now so there was no point in wallowing over how long it took me to get there. He shook his head and gave me another nudge.
"Alright, alright. Stop looking at me like that." His hands were up in surrender.
"Good. I hope we're having a huge dinner tonight. I want to stuff myself and then pass out." I yawned as I spoke, emphasizing my statement.
"Do you think you'll be going to practice tomorrow?"
"Mmmm. Probably. I'm thinking about making paper koi for the players. To celebrate the holiday since they'll be stuck practicing all day. Maybe some matcha daifuku."
"They'll probably celebrate at home later though."
"That's true, but I think they see more of each other than they do their own families."
Hinata was silent for a moment as he thought over my comment. I was sure he was thinking of the hours he put in to volleyball when he was in school.
"You're right. Then I think it would be nice of you to do something for them."
Though he had said that I started to feel embarrassed at the idea. Sure, I had been in the gym almost every time they had but we hadn't really interacted before the previous Friday. Sometimes there were polite greetings or helping hands but no friendships grew from it.
Since starting high school I usually avoided things that made me feel self-conscious because feeling like you've made a social mistake is enough to make you sick. There had been times, however, over the past week where I interacted and spoke without fear of that. It felt nice to just do rather than think of all the reasons not to.
"Alright. I will."
I growled at the lead in my stomach. It was cold and heavy and a reminder that anxiety would be a part of my life forever. 'Idiot. You're an idiot. This isn't normal.' I was holding the large container of daifuku and walking slowly behind Hinata. The warmth from the bottom mocked me. I hadn't gotten up that much earlier than normal to make them but the fact that I got up earlier at all showed the effort I put into it.
It was my own fault. I had every intention of making them the night before but after dinner I was swallowed by my thoughts. Insecurity had hit me very hard. I hadn't felt that since I was a child running after my dear brothers. My skill didn't, and would never match theirs but I found a way to make up for that and the insecurity faded. This time it was amplified tenfold. I had so many things to be insecure about. My looks, my clothes, my smile, my laugh, the way I spoke, the way I ate, the way I walked. All were targets of the evil, anxious part of me that doubted everything.
I held a breath as the doors opened and we walked inside. I knew the team was already there from the bus parked outside and felt ridiculous. All heads turned our way and Kindaichi called out.
"What's that Naka-chan?" Attention had been called to the bundle in my arms.
They all walked closer to inspect.
"They're, uh. I made matcha daifuku."
I thrust the container into Kindaichi's chest and backed away with the heat of embarrassment on my face. He opened the top and those who could see gasped.
Inside were green mochi with red bean in the center and on top I had painted simple, colorful koi. They all looked toward me with surprise.
"You made these for us?" Asked Hajikun.
I felt my blush deepen and tried hard to look up from my feet. Hinata's hand fell heavily on my shoulder.
"Mari said you guys see more of each other than your families. She wanted you all to celebrate together."
I breathed again and looked up nervously. All the boys had smiles on their faces and it was my turn to be surprised.
"This is amazing Naka-chan!" Yahaba called out and the rest of the team shouted similar statements.
I was laughing when they all started arguing about who got to eat one first.
"Hold it." The coach shouted from behind them. "Not one bite until we break for lunch."
His voice shook in everyone's bones and the container was closed in the blink of an eye.
I took it quickly and brought it to the bench on the sideline, setting it down with my bag. The feeling of acceptance did not fade as Coach went over the plan for today. He had apparently looked through my books and decided the best plays and drills for this particular team. I ignored the magnetic pull I felt until the coach announced that the setters would be working with some wing spikers teaching them ways to hone their setting skills in case they were needed during a match. My head turned to him then and our eyes met and my stomach tried to throw my breakfast away.
I felt it again. The biggest and worst feeling that had engulfed me the night before had come back for more of my sanity. Shame. I was ashamed of my feelings. To like a man after what happened to me seemed like a betrayal of what I went through. And that particular vein of shame got worse as my mind had to ask if on some level I enjoyed it. I tried to tell myself that that was crazy to ask myself. Of course I hadn't, I remembered wanting to die. But the nagging feeling stayed with me because why else would I like a boy?
Then, those memories gave way to a different shame. I had been soiled. Every part of me was dirty now, no inch of skin was safe. Everything I wore, everything I owned, was dirty for coming into contact with me. How dare I let people touch me at all? Why did I let people hug me? That shame was one I couldn't reason away. I might have hated what happened to me but it had happened and my body was a tarnished vessel. No one wanted something damaged. Oikawa was still bright and happy and my past and my own body would only infect that.
I looked away and blinked a few times to stay the tears that had been forming. I couldn't look at him. Not today, not ever again.
"These are delicious Naka-chan!" Watari cried after his first bite.
"Chew with your mouth closed. It's embarrassing." Kyotani took a bite as well and ignored a glare from Watari.
"Thank you all. I'm glad you enjoy them."
"Naka-chan!" Kindaichi ran up to me with a semi-excited look on his face. "I just heard coach saying he might give us tomorrow off to prepare for the practice match on Tuesday."
"That's great!" I said over the exclamations of his teammates.
"Yeah, but that means we won't be able to do some of the things in your books. What if we still have questions?"
I thought for a second. I imagined I'd give the notebooks over to Coach Irihata when the training camp was over, though he still had questions about my explanations. As a young kid I didn't really have the largest vocabulary and my word choice and sentence structure were sometimes odd.
"If there's something you don't get and the coach can't help you then you can ask me." I reached into my bag for pen and paper and wrote my cell phone number down.
"That's my number."
"Whoa! I need that too." Yahaba trotted over after most likely eavesdropping.
Kindaichi clutched the paper to his chest.
"You do?" I asked.
"Yeah, what if I have questions about the types of sets you've had us doing?"
I sighed.
"You all can have my number if you want it. But I'm not writing it down again so if Kindaichi loses it then you're out of luck."
I stowed the pen and paper to show I was serious. Yahaba quickly tried to snatch it from the middle blocker almost at once. My arms were crossed over my chest disapprovingly and I silently hoped that my phone would receive no messages. The team seemed reserved and intense on the outside but their energy and boisterousness was a little overwhelming sometimes. I could only imagine what they would be like outside of practice without their coach to reign them in.
My neck prickled and I ignored it out of sheer willpower. I knew who it was. My whole being was trying to turn me toward the source but that just made me more adamant. 'I'm not subjecting anyone else to this mess. Much less someone like him.'
I knew if I let myself get closer I would end up telling him everything. The look people gave me when they knew was shattering. Every time it felt like a new wound. I had the feeling that a look like that from him would break me in two.
