Chapter Thirty-Five
Hinata was finally able to find a word that he could describe himself with, the title was too tight around his throat and prevented him from confirming it out loud. He figured that knowing what he was would sate him for the time being, even when the scars across his arms started to itch and he couldn't resist the temptation. Rolling the sleeves up on his shield granted him access to the vulnerable flesh, and his fingernails did the rest; he was meticulously cautious not to get any of his venom onto the red fabric, tugged the too wide sleeves up to his elbows with a sigh of overwhelming relief.
He was a coward, quite literally scared of his own shadow, and more so of two captains of teams he did not belong to. Above all, he was frightened of the aftermath of his next decisions, horrified but accepting of the ones he's already made. Saying yes to Grand King, letting himself be strung along until he's not sure where his story even started before the setter came into his life. He remembers his sister, but those memories are faded with too much time passing in a single night, she had admired the captain of Aoba Johsai, promised that she would defeat him and follow in Shouyou's footsteps. Only recently did he realize how foolish that was, how naive it was to think that the title of Grand King could be topped by a possession.
Coward was a good fit for him, he had nobody to ask for a second opinion. His protector, the person who he doesn't have to be strong with, was home and far too close to someone else. His deal with Kuroo was made out of fear, fear of the end and fear of the things that the Nekoma captain was capable of; Hinata's aware that despite everything, he ended up with the long end of the stick. Kuroo could have done worse to him, taken away his guardian, stripped him of the crimson shield draped across his shoulders. Kuroo could have ruined him through Kenma, but he didn't. Had offered a deal, a way out and friendship. All of those things made his stomach twist painfully.
Kuroo's hand gad burnt a phantom sensation over his, evidence of his betrayal along with glossy paper in his hand and the subtle vibrations of his cell phone. The man's change had taken him by surprise, forced him into silence and submission he only knew came with pain and the inability to breathe. Kuroo had offered him a hand, reached into the abyss to pull him out, and he had taken it. The drawbacks are unknown to him. Stay away from Oikawa. Grand King would make sure that he could never escape if he knew the truth, would break him down, keep the promise of that diamond studded collar and a new home. He wonders if anyone else had seen this side of Grand King, the dominating, all-consuming fire that threatened the existence of all around him. Hinata thought at one point that Grand King was the sun, but he had been wrong, the other male was a wildfire with no purpose but to hurt and destroy. Not that Hinata, himself, is any better.
The faces of the people he's hurt flash across his retinas, everyone he's ever known has been burned by him. His family, the real one, pushed away with his disability. Abandoned because he wasn't normal, and could never be that. Natsu's face lingered the longest, but was also the blurriest for reasons he can't comprehend. His sister, brave and wise in ways he wasn't despite his head start in life, had expected everything of him. Looked up to him for no reason other the fact that he was there. He shouldn't have been there, didn't deserve to be there, and Natsu didn't deserve to have him poisoning her. His memories of orange hair are tinged with bitterness, flashes and sensations he shouldn't have because he wasn't her brother. Shouyou could accept that, could drop his family name along with all it's pretenses, he could be nobody like he was meant to be. He wishes he could be like Kenma, wishes he could have his alone but not lonely way of life. Wishes he had done something to deserve it.
His team passed in blur along with the shifting view through the window, he relived pains his body had forgotten about, relived a moment that he hadn't witnessed. Lines of an unknown language seared into his stomach, he hissed from the pain he knew should be fake. Mine. He traced over his unsettled stomach, wishing it wasn't the only word he could spell in Romanji. His seniors, as infallible and tall as they are, were people at the end of the day. Made of the same material as he was, soft and easily broken. Suga-san's mutilation was something that he could only feel repentance for, but never forgiveness; Shouyou considered the situation as a whole, a strand of barbed memories from the dark with flashes of red, decided that he didn't even deserve to feel remorse. Everything that he had done had been wrong, and he deserves to suffer because he couldn't even bring himself to confess that he knew who had hurt the silver haired boy.
Miyagi pulled into view before he could contemplate his most quintessential wrongdoing, knew that if he sought from golden eyes that they would morph into anguish and eventually hatred when his protector had realized the extent of his disgraces. Shouyou knew that the jacket spread across his back would turn as cold and heavy as iron if Kenma knew the truth. The train lurched to a stop and he forced his soliciting for forgiveness to imitate the behavior.
Caught between two roads, Shouyou couldn't bring himself to walk down either one. One lead to memories that didn't belong to him, that Hinata Shouyou had orange hair and was revered as the sun. The other was where the sun had fallen to, far into the distance and on the edge of the horizon. His captain would welcome him home, because the dark haired man did not know that he was guilty. Did not know that his inky hair had created a monster.
Shouyou, true to his nature as a complete mess, creates a new path that is neither worse or better than the first two. His listless pondering has his vision skimming across a forest where his innocence had been stolen, remembers the smell of dry leaves and moss all too well, can see brown curls glowing amber, his first kiss was something he considered to be his first mistake. Ice drifted across his skin in the shape of hands he knew too well, Shouyou forced himself to walk faster until his destination was standing before him.
The building was familiar, he had seen it from almost every angle at least one hundred times, and allowed himself the crippling gratification of walking through the glass doors. Smoke billows into his sense, dulling them in a way he never knew he could crave. The walk to the counter is a daze, the weight of his possessions is suddenly heavy when a pair of baleful eyes settle on his skin. "Brat." The man greets, tugging on locks that had long since stopped being sunshine. "Coach." Says it like a prayer, because Ukai was someone who he hadn't hurt, hadn't been close to enough to burn.
"You should be at home." The man's words are wise, but his home is four hours away and safe because of that fact. "I don't have a home." They both flinch at the words and regret makes his tongue heavy. "What do you want?" He's not even sure why he brought himself in here, with no money and little sense of purpose. The middle blocker shrugs, "Meat buns!" Offers a smile to make up for his outburst, Ukai just stares at him with narrowed eyes. "You have a bento in your hands." Shouyou looks down at his hands, ignoring the one that burns whenever he looks at it
"I'll trade ya."
Ukai sighs, he watches the older man's nostrils flare in irritation, "Why are you here?" The younger boy shrugs and he's pretty sure he can hear curses in his coach's next sigh. "Listen," Dark eyes are on him again, wide and the older man's face contorts into an almost desperation. "I know things have been rough." Shouyuo frowns at that, noticing that the older man's bluntness isn't endearing like Kenma's would be. "But- I think the best thing for you to do is stay with Daichi, study hard and then ask for forgiveness." He blinks, Ukai rolls a cigarette around in his lips. He doesn't know. The relief is terrifying in its abruptness, the knowledge that Ukai, his coach, doesn't know. Doesn't know what he is, isn't aware that he is a possession and that two people are fighting over his ownership, that there's nobody in the entire world that knows everything about this situation. Shouyou laughs, hard and loud, and for a long instance he allows himself a way out of everything.
His body shakes too hard and he has to use the counter as a support because Ukai doesn't know, it's almost too much pressure to be in the store at that moment, but Shouyou just continues laughing with the knowledge that Ukai would never acknowledge him as a slut or a whore or mine. The middle blocker ends up wiping tears onto Kenma's jacket, look up at the person that doesn't know through blurry eyes and finds himself smiling easily, his lips twitch under the older man's scrutiny and he wipes more of the wetness from his eyes.
"Hinata-"
"Don't call me that." He hisses, feeling too venomous too quickly. The older man's eyes go wide for a second but Shouyou looks away the second his coach nods; knows that Ukai would brush off his apology but offers one anyway. "Whatever." The blond huffs, sending a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling. "What's in it?" Ukai isn't looking at him, doesn't even glance in his direction as he sets the bento down next to an overflowing ashtray. "Chicken katsu." The words are too warm coming from his mouth, and Ukai gives him a considering look.
"Wait!" A voice calls, Shouyou's neck cracks with how fast he turns towards the disembodied interjection. "What- S-Sato?" Promises of ice cream and wings, Natsu being stolen from him. He stares the familiar face, takes in wide grey-blue eyes and her open lips. Her teeth click shut for a moment, Shouyou watches teeth dig into flesh for a second and tenses with her next word. "Shouyou." Whispered, like she's not sure what he's seeing is real. He stares, feeling his face twisting against the indifferent expression he's maintaining. "Sato." He confirms, attempting to turn back to the counter for the meat buns he wish he didn't crave.
"I'll pay for him." There's a chill on his shoulder that forces him to flinch away, he glances up at his old caretaker who is too close now, her dark hair obscuring his view of her face. Shouyou sighs and Ukai echoes it before standing, stubbing his cigarette in the already full tray. "How many?" Ukai prompts. Sato's eyes, too similar to Natsu's, land on him. "Two." He provides, "Four." Sato counters. He rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the counter, not entirely sure if this situation is actually happening. Shouyou digs a finger into a drying scar.
It hurts.
Ukai hands Sato a bag, a suspicious expression dulled into narrowed eyebrows and a frown, the blond man gives him a look that he avoids and waits half a second after Sato places a bill on the counter before leaving. His footsteps echo in a way that has him checking the sky for the sun, catches the too bright orb hovering over moss covered trees and glowing so orange that it hurts his eyes as much as his heart. "Here." A white paper bag is pressed into his hands. Taking it, he contemplates just running away, to Daichi or finding a place to hide for the incoming darkness.
"Can we talk?"
He almost says no. Really, really wants to say no, or say nothing at all and leave the tall woman standing there. Shouyou nods, smelling flowers and grease, he doesn't let himself smile because he knows that it would be stolen with a flash like everything else. He knows that cowardice made his decision for him, knows he's going to hate everything he hears, but he's not strong enough to silence her before she starts speaking. "I- I mean your-" She grunts in frustration, Shouyou watches her shoulders spread as she takes a deep breath. "Yuukio, he-" He flinches, feels his spine ready to snap in an attempt to escape the name before she says it again.
Sato's inability to form sentences is new to him, but he knows that she took his father's death harder than anyone. He remember resenting her for crying after the funeral, remembers telling her that nothing would bring him back, that it was stupid to cry. She slapped him, but the tears had stopped as soon as she did. It was one of the few things that didn't make him hate himself when it came to his relationship with Sato.
"Yuukio and I-" He tries to piece her unfinished words together but comes up blank, his dad had been nice to everyone except Sato. "He was my brother." Shouyou's heart stops along with the rage that makes his fingers itch. "What?" He asks, sounding less disbelieving than he was feeling. Sato repeats those words again, uses his name like it wasn't forbidden. "He hated you." The words are out of his mouth after the third rephrasing of her disclosure. Sato laughs, "It certainly felt like it." Said like she didn't remember all the times he had yelled at her.
"Why are you telling me?" He murmurs, wants to scream the words but Yuukio is blocking his airway. Sato laughs again, he cringes at the sound. Shouyou watches her walk away, towards the bench where Kageyama had discovered him with Grand King but didn't find out. Her slight build looks weird on the bench compared to the image of Grand King that is seared into his eyes, his hands start shaking when she waves him over but he joins her. Shouyou sits with his aunt on the bench, her long fingers wrap around his trembling hand and he freezes until she pulls back along with the bag of meat buns. It crinkles as she opens it, the middle blocker watches her face twist in scrutiny but she reaches inside and deposits the contents into her hand.
Steaming meat buns are offered to him by a person he thought he would never see again, his stomach churns in fear but his hands extend and his hands are warm for the first time since Nippori station. "I was worried when you didn't come home, I thought-" She sniffs, he can tell that it isn't because of the meat buns but that's it. He refuses to look at her directly, terrified that she would drag him back and worried that she wouldn't. "I thought it happened again." Her laugh is bitter. Again. It never occurred to him that someone else might feel guilty about his death, Sato always looked sad but never guilty, never repenting.
"Natsu cried." Shouyou suddenly feels like doing the same, tries to push away looping sounds of Natsu sobbing but they follow him until his ears start ringing. "I was- I guess that doesn't matter. I haven't been a very good aunt." He thinks about the rice, about the lies and the glaring. Skipping meals and staying out until the last moment he had to come home; thinks about Natsu laughing and hugging someone that wasn't him. "I- You were... not bad." He offers, not able to say that she was good because he can only think about avoiding her, and effectively Natsu, because of the things that she had done.
"You lied to me." He can see her too black hair jerk at his words, there's satisfaction as well as guilt that floods his system. "But." Grey-blue eyes on him, the same as Natsu's, "You protected her." When I couldn't. He never could, he couldn't even save himself, not even with the help of his protector he was still too weak. "Does she know?" Sato laughs, grey-blue glistens in orange light as she does, like too hot fire that has him leaning away. "Your mother forbade me from telling her children, said that I would end up... next to him." He thinks that the wording is intention, it distracts him from her pleading tone long enough for him to think of something to say.
"Do you want to die?" A curtain of black cuts off his view from her face, but it's shaking with a non-existent breeze. "I did." Did. Shouyou isn't sure what to make of that. "What changed?" He needs to know, needs to know that there's an end to this feeling that doesn't result in nothingness. "Natsu... and you, sometimes." He laughs this time, something broken and awkward that he's never heard from himself before. "I hated you." He still thinks he does, her hair nods. "Even as a kid, especially when I tried to get you inside." He remembers, lets the moment fall quiet as he picks at lukewarm meat buns.
"Are you safe?" He's shocked at the question, and isn't sure what kind of answer he should give to his aunt. His admission that he's fallen in love with someone who protects him, that he's trapped between two monsters that want to posses him, that he found a temporary home with his captain and then gotten someone hurt again because of his weakness. Shouyou shrugs, she snorts a clogged nose. "Will you stay with me?" He tries to run but his knees are too weak to carry him more than a step before he's falling at her feet.
"I'm not going back!" It's louder than he's spoken in a long time, he throws Yuukio out with his declaration. Sato raises her hands, defensive despite her position over him, "That's not my house... not anymore." He flinches back. "You lived there before?" Before us. She nods, "It was the Hinata family home, three generations ago from Wales." He blinks. "Wales?" Sato laughs but not out of humor, "I can't believe she didn't tell you." Shouyou frowns at the contempt in her tone, her aunt sighs, nods to herself. "It's in Europe. West." He nods, but can't process the information.
"Have you been there?" He asks instead of has he been there, watches as Sato nods then chews on her lip. "Yuukio and I went back..." They both flinch at the name, and the urge to run return but Yuukio is holding him there, keeping him in Japan, in Miyagi with his sister. "We wanted to see if there were any of us left." She trails off and looks away, but it's not conclusive enough, needs to know if there are more Hinatas out there for him to be thrown away from. "Are there?"
Sato shakes her head, a tear rolls down the crease of her nose as she does, Shouyou feels relief and sympathy. Wants to comfort his tormentor, his caretaker, his aunt, but can't. "All of them dead. Murdered." He jerks at the word, wonders if it's fate that he was this close to joining them, completing the cycle of death. He'd break it, swears that much in an instant because even if he wasn't, Natsu was a Hinata. "How is she?" Sato wipes away wetness on a dark sleeve, "Natsu?" She questions once her eyes land back on him, he nods.
"She drinks all the milk." He laughs despite himself, wants to beg for an actual answer but fears that she won't give them to him. "Natsu... Wants to get strong, get big so she can find you." Shouyou hides his face in burning hands and wipes away disgust before it can slide down his face. "Natsu misses you a lot, but her mother refuses to talk about you at all." He laughs, imagines Natsu with milk in both hands, screaming for information.
"Shouyou?" Her voice is soft and scared, echoing the way he's been feeling since he decided to go to high school. "Yeah?" Never remembers a moment in his entire life that he's spoken to Sato and not hated her. "Stay with me." He scoots back half a step as she says it again. "Why?" He asks instead of declining like he knows he should. "Your ribs are practically showing and your arms are covered in blood..." Shouyou tugs on his sleeves, hiding the shame along with too many scars. Sato chews on her lip again, "I need to know that you're okay."
"I'm okay." He lies, feels sick for doing so. Her eyes peer into his like she sees him as a person instead of a possession, he hates it instantly. "Please." She chokes out and he looks away, ignoring the feeling of his heart being ripped out. "I can't go back there." He repeats, a whisper with the only words that matter.
"I live in an apartment half an hour from here." He freezes at the information, Shouyou had always thought- he never knew that Sato didn't live there. In their- her family home. "Okay." He concedes, hates himself for giving in so easily like he always does. Sato stands, so he does too, and finds comfort in the fact that her legs are shaking just as bad as his are; his caretaker, his aunt walks along paths of burnt orange and he follows in her footsteps. Sato's car, he notices, is as black as everything she owns. Another comfort he doesn't want to depend on, but finds himself clipping in his seat belt before the urge to run makes his legs tingle.
"You don't look like me." He tersely mentions after a long silence filled with him staring at his aunt. She grunts, eyes focused on the road, "Guess you got the short end of the stick, huh?" He freezes at her words, the irritation at her words snubbed out by her tone, a lifetime of resentment and keeping him in the dark, and Sato is teasing him. He wants to ask, he wants to know. Understand. "What was he like?" He watches her shoulders tense through dark bangs, he doesn't regret asking, even if the guilt in his stomach tells him to. "Kind. He is-was kind." It hurts all over knowing that Sato has to remind herself still that her brother is gone.
"And tall." He bristles at her tone, joking about a man he doesn't remember. "I wonder if Natsu will get that tall." He frowns, "I'm only sixteen, I'm still growing." She glances at him for half a second before looking back at the road, he sees her smile and it doesn't irritate him as much as he thinks it should. "When was the last time you even grew a centimeter?" He stares out the window, stares out at endless green that remind him of Daichi. He ponders telling his captain that he'll no longer be screamed awake, that he won't have to share a bed and keep the lights on through the night. His phone is a heavy weight in his hand, but remains just that, he's still unsure of Sato's hospitality, even if they are blood. Not family.
Sato's car pulls to a stop after a sharp turn, Shouyou leans forward, stares at an unassuming apartment building that doesn't look like a torture chamber. He almost comments that the building is not black, but finds himself unable to speak when he steps out of the car. Sato leads him past numerous doors, only made individual by a brass number attached to them; they head up a set of stairs that gives him a reminder that the sun is setting too soon and he begs the light to last long enough for them to get inside.
Sato stops at the last door, the cement wall beside them gives Shouyou a sense of foreboding that makes his hands shake shamefully. His aunt shoves a key into the door and the barrier is open, he follows on her heel to escape the spreading shadows and sighs loudly once it's closed. "Shouyou?" He allows his eyes to open and flinches to see Natsu's eyes staring into his, "Sorry." Sato nods, looking like she wants to say something but Shouyou knows that she won't.
Taking off his shoes gives him something to do besides stare into Sato's apartment, but that task is done too quickly and he's left with nothing but his crimson shield and a bag of memories. "Sorry about the mess." She commends lamely, he steps onto wooden floors and takes in his aunt's apartment with curious eyes. Pictures take up any place that would be empty, Shouyou can't bring himself to look at any of them. Not out of respect for her privacy, which he will use as his excuse, but because there's something inside of him that tells him he'll be racing through memories that don't belong to him. Look at faces that he can't recognize and it will break him.
The reminder that his father had, at one point, existed is enough to fill his blood with enough nostalgia to make him nauseous, he's never hated someone so much in his entire life. Not Sato, her actions forgivable with time and an explanation, she was the one who led him to his protector. The blood red fabric seemed to radiate heat when he thought of Kenma in this place, even when there was nothing in here that reminded him of the other boy. "Come in, you're making me nervous." Sato says flatly. Shouyou tugs at inky bangs, wishing not for the first time that he dreams were in Tokyo instead of Miyagi, then takes another step forward.
It was too much, too many eyes that he can see clearly with that additional step. All of them the the grey-blue that makes his heart constrict in phantom pain, "Shouyou?" He hears, knowing that the voice belongs to someone he's related to makes it worse. His skin erupts when another pair of those eyes lands on his skin, Shouyou feels every cell in his body burning with silent reckoning.
Darkness pulls him from nothingness and all he sees is chopper eyes where there shouldn't be anything, his throat burns with screams that won't come out. Empty memories of his father creates a cage that's as blurry as that night is, glowing orange that burns like the sun in a gloaming that won't end, dark blue that spans for an eternity won't end. Shouyou cries out, begging for reprieve and his protector, begging for anything but orange.
"Shouyou!" The orange shatters into dust and he's allowed run away from it before it can follow. "Sato." He croaks, wishing he could call on someone else but he's thankful for the escape that the woman has provided for him. "Sorry." He offers, knowing that his screams must have existed in the world that isn't only shadows. "Are you okay?" He flinches at the words, wants to take them away from her because they didn't belong to her. Nodding, he takes in his surroundings to avoid looking at Sato; he thought it would be a bad idea, that he might break down again by forcing himself to stare into his father's unseeing eyes.
All the pictures are gone along with their frames, if Shouyou hadn't just screamed about that face he would have questioned their existence. "Sorry." Sato echoes, she lets out a big sigh that tells the middle blocker that he must have scared her to some extent. "I didn't think seeing them would..." She trails off and he is grateful for the silence, wishing that the burning remnants would be erased from his mind. "Was that him?" His entire arm is shaking when he points to a white patch of wall where too much orange was screaming at him. "Yeah... My Yuukio." Sato looks close to crying and Shouyou feels bad for his reaction, for forcing her to hide her keepsakes.
"Sorry." Sato's shoulders shrug, he knows that she's hurting when her entire body starts to tremble. He wants to hug her, wants to comfort someone with the same blood as him, but his arms are trapped where they are at the thought of touching another person. Shouyou wants to say something, comfort the woman that took him and told him about Yuukio, wants to apologize for throwing it back in her face, but all that comes out his mouth are apologizes he doesn't mean. Sato nods, tugs her black hair out of her face as she stands, the woman offers him a smile that his him jerking back.
"Breakfast?" Shouyou stares at his relative, wondering if his escape from Yuukio had actually taken all night. He nods and she steps out of view, Shouyou lets his eyes close and listens to the sizzling that brings him back to Tokyo. He knows that he shouldn't draw upon the memory to calm his racing pulse, but it's the only thing that will work until he can see his protector again. A set of deep breaths help draw him into the moment, sees Kenma dancing around the kitchen, he has to stretch his imagination to pull Kenma's face into a big smile but the image doesn't bring the warmth he desires and lets stoic lips take over again.
His bag is by the door when he looks for it, drags pills and his phone out of it before dropping it back onto the ground. In a moment of weakness, he dials his protector and waits through each ring with a throbbing in his heart. "Shouyou?" Kenma sounds tired and he regrets calling, wishes he didn't have to beg for strength over the phone. "Sorry." He mumbles, pressing the trembling plastic to his ear until he can hear the older boy breathing.
"Are you okay?" A smile tugs at his lips, like the one he tried to imagine the other boy with, at the words and he nods to nobody. "I miss you." He whispers, knowing that if he said anything too loudly that Sato would come looking, would ask questions and he needed to focus on Kenma. The other boy hums quietly, "Nightmare?" The other boy asks, sounding more alert now and Shouyou supposes that he is. "I'm not sure." He admits, climbing back onto an empty couch. "What do you mean?" He pouts, wishing that Kenma didn't have to sound worried, he knows he's not offering a lot of information. "I think I passed out."
Kenma huffs a breath into his ear, Shouyou can almost feel it. "Do you know why?" Only for a second, he wishes that Kenma would shut up but also keep talking. "I saw someone." He offers, knowing that the blond would ask but he wants to put off saying it, if only for a second. "Oikawa?" Kenma questions and Shouyou chokes on an intake of air. "No." Says it three more times, just to be certain. Kenma apologizes softly, and he returns it because it had been his fault.
"I saw my dad." There's something he can't recognize in his voice that isn't as sad and upset as he knows he should be. "Oh?" And Shouyou remembers that he's never mentioned his dad before to his protector, never thought to mention that there was an gap in his existence that nobody could fill. "A picture." Kenma remains silent, except for his breathing, he thinks he could fall asleep to that noise. "I was scared."
"Why?" Shouyou laughs, knowing that his answer will be as stupid as it is embarrassing. "He has Natsu's eyes." He supposed, technically, Natsu had his eyes, but they only belonged to Natsu because Yuukio was gone. "I think I feel a little better now." He's not sure why confirming Yuukio's death brought him a sliver of contentment, but didn't question it. "Are you sure?" He hums in return. "Sorry for bothering you." Kenma laughs into a yawn, "You don't bother me often." He snorts back, glad that Kenma would tell him the truth no matter what.
"Kenma?" His call is met with only the sound of Kenma's breathing, Shouyou smiles into the phone. "I love you." He whispers, knowing that Kenma won't respond he closes his phone; he thinks about the blond boy and the smile on his face lasts a little longer than it should. He ponders everything about them being together, thinks about armor that never ends and knowing that any panic attack or nightmare that he may encounter can be resolved just by talking to him.
Sato returns with a bowl of rice and a glass of water, the sight terrifies him as much as it makes him feel normal, the caretaker had been in charge of his meals for as long as he could remember. He rattled nonthreatening orange in his hand as she approached, Sato stopped walking, stared at the pills in his hand with a deep frown. "Do they help?" The question takes him by surprise but he shrugs quickly, "I still... get scared, but I think so?" She nods, offers him the bowl and glass. He knows it's stupid to be scared of the meal, knows that he'll be able to swallow it without his throat burning, but there's still a cloud of trepidation that makes his chopsticks tremble.
"Are you okay?" He nods around a mouthful of rice, finding it bland but refreshing in a way, like his past no longer hurts as much because of this one act of kindness. "Here's this." Gleaming silver is dangled in front of him with a too familiar key chain, a cartoon dog on a pink background. He reaches for it, disappointed only for a second in it's coldness. "I don't come here often, once a week to get some things." He nods, unsure of why he's being told this. "Don't bring anyone here..." It sounds more like a plea than a rule, Shouyou nods again, fixates on the key in his hand. "You have my number, right?" He smiles, "I do not." Knows that she's given it to him at least six times but was too scared that she was going to murder him through the device. Sato's eyes roll, he watches the grey-blue shifting with interest before handing her his phone. He forces memories and medication down his throat with a sip of water, hopes that she'll leave before his thoughts pour out of his mouth.
"I've never had a guest before." She mumbles into his phone, he thinks that the words might not be for him. "Do you need like, food or something? Training pad, maybe?" He snorts, feels almost light knowing that at one point he would yell at her for joking about that stuff. "I'll be fine, kitchen is that way?" He points to the hallway she emerged from, her black hair bobs slightly but she starts chewing on her lip, he wonders if it's a habit he's never noticed before.
"My bedroom is on the left but... All of the pictures are in there." The middle blocker refuses to react with more than a nod, "Bathroom is all the way down, kitchen on the right." He nods again, puts more rice in his mouth to avoid commenting on her nervous expression. "The neighbors are pretty quiet." She nods to herself, then offers him his phone back. Shouyou places it on the couch beside him, wondering if Kenma would be bothered if he called twice in the same hour. "I have to go." He offers her a slight bow from his sitting position, and as best a smile as he can manage.
The slamming door fills him with a dull sense of panic, realizing that he'll be living practically alone makes him rethink the decision entirely, there would be nobody to help him through anything once he was in this space. "Alone." He mumbles into the emptiness.
After finish the rice, he decides to explore where he'll be living. Alone. The kitchen is one counter that wraps around the wall, a small table is pushed into the empty corner of the room with a single chair. He deposits his glass and bowl into the sink and exits the small room quickly; he's not sure how Sato could stand this place, having one of everything and nobody to share it with. Ignoring the only door on the left, Shouyou steps into Sato's bathroom, bare like the kitchen with only a tub, sink and toilet.
Showering is awkward for a long moment, with only hot water splashing down on his hair and expecting hands to begin wiping sweat from his body only to find that he'll be cleaning his own body for the time being. Sato's shampoo smells like one flower instead of a garden of them, the scent is overpowering and he wonders why anyone would want to smell like just roses. Finding no towel in the bathroom is irritating until he realizes that he's alone and proceeds to walk out of the door with little fear of being discovered.
The experience is liberating but leaves an unusual feeling in his stomach, like he's being watched even when he knows that for once he's completely alone. Letting the air and gravity dry him is an irritating process, he briefly contemplates using the last of Sato's paper towels to finish the job, but decides against it. He would probably be the one that had to replace them. Eventually, he's dry enough to pull on the uniform he's borrowed from Daichi, which leaves him staring at Kenma's Nekoma jacket for a long while before he decides to leave it where it will be safe, being a locked door. Where he now lives. Alone.
He walks out of Sato's apartment an hour before practice would start and awkwardly locks the door behind him, another first for him. He stares at the key chain, while he walks towards the stairs, trying to force thoughts of Natsu from his brain while looking at a gift from the only orange haired Hinata. The thought it sad, but also special, knowing that Natsu will be accepted in a way that he couldn't be.
There's a smile on his face, even when he gets knocked on his ass by who can only be his neighbor.