Chapter Thirty-Seven
It's easier to ignore the bloodshed when Kiyoko spends every moment ignoring it, every time Shouyou attempts to bring it up the dark haired girl suddenly finds a reason for him to find Yachi. He is glad, however, that Kiyoko is pleased with his decision on her, even if they had been on a selfish whim, the desire to see that hair again had paid off. Shouyou's not sure if he could handle not seeing that color everyday, along with the scarlet of Kenma's jacket.
At first, the middle blocker found it difficult to balance everything with nobody asking questions, waking up in alternating places of rest, either secured in Daichi's arms or in the phantom embrace of Kenma's. Daichi wasn't- isn't pleased with the change, with his half truths that he offers, because nobody can know that Sato is part of a family he once belonged to. Or that he's started to think of her in that way. He's only seen her three times since that day in Ukai's shop, always on Sunday and always with a hesitant admission of Natsu's latest antics. Sharing laughs with someone who secretly medicated him for years, in his opinion, is less awkward than he imagine. Not that he spent more than a moment imagining that it could have been like this since he's met her, that they could share low quality meals with equally low quality television.
He asks about Kiyoko-senpai on the fourth Sunday and Sato drops her cup noodles on the couch; Shouyou sees her eyes go hard for the first time since he's found out about his disorder. "Stay away from her." Whispered, like Sato has the same problem he has of being unable to breathe, but she does breathe, Shouyou watches his aunt take in a deep gulp of air let it out, "Stay away from her." Repeated louder, harder than her blue-grey eyes, like when Natsu refused to listen to their caretaker too many times in a row. "Why?" He's not sure where the urgent need to know about Kiyoko-senpai came from, he thinks it might have something to do with blood and the manager being only a wall away, a couple of steps if he decided to use the door.
"She's dangerous." The explanation only serves to make him more curious, more anxious and frightened. "Dangerous?" He repeats, rolling the word off his tongue while trying to imagine Kiyoko-san as anything but the girl who was too beautiful, the girl who wiped blood from his cheek in an accident she didn't deserve. "Okay." He lies, letting dark bangs fall over his face to hide from her piercing stare. Shouyou hated to lie, but he couldn't stay away from someone who had become part of his life, a friend as well as someone who he was learning to protect.
"Dangerous." He echoes into a couch cushion that smells like chicken broth, the only thing dangerous about Kiyoko-san is her looks, too pretty to not stare at. Too pretty not to touch. Shouyou hates the feeling that threatens to overwhelm him, the desire to understand without hurting anyone. Wants to know why people want to own other people. You belong to us. He doesn't want the dark haired manager, not the way everyone else seems to, he finds her beauty almost as overwhelming as the men that flock to her. Too much perfection that has him scoping out the cracks in his own appearance, he thinks he'll always admire the way that she looks so tall, even when she's only a centimeter or two taller than him. The middle blocker wants to protect that, doesn't want someone else to feel as small as he is, compact and insignificant enough to fit in someone's pocket.
He falls asleep to the sound of his aunt snoring, another thing he never noticed when they were both sleeping in that house; morning arrives through a moment of unrelenting bleakness, Shouyou rubs dreamless sleep from his eyes and takes in the quiet of the apartment, no snoring and the coffee maker he thought that Sato's fingers were attached was silent as well. Knowing that her companionship is on a set schedule makes him uncomfortable, like he's still being an inconvenience despite her practically dragging him here.
Making rice separates him from the quiet, takes in the noises of percolation and sizzling eggs like those noises were crafted just for him, he makes bentos for Daichi and Suga wishing that being alone didn't mean being alone. The dark haired boy thinks it might be because he hasn't seen Kenma since he made a deal with Kuroo, the older boy insisted that he remain safe in Miyagi but far, far away from Oikawa; he tells the Nekoma captain, in a fit of rage, that Miyagi wasn't big enough for him to avoid Grand King forever. He ties the final bento with a sense of finality, there would be not waiting or fear the next time a trip to Tokyo presented itself, he would be seeing Kenma, if only for a moment, and that was that. The promise that Kuroo had made, about not being involved with dethroning the Grand King, held strong as far as he knew, but the blond boy had suspicions, told him in an early morning text that Kuroo was being weirder than usual.
Kiyoko was outside of the door when he opened it and he's starting to wonder if it's going to become a habit where he ends up on his ass every time the blue eyed girl shows up. "Good morning, Shouyou-kun." There's a fox grin that would send shudders up his spine if he had seen it on anyone else, on Kiyoko it was good news. "G-good morning." He mumbles, rubbing at his butt while juggling three bentos and the uncomfortable weight that something is going to happen. The fact that it doesn't happen makes his fingers tremble and he flinches when Kiyoko shifts beside him on the bus, tugging out a big book without a word. He glances at the cover through a comb of pale fingers and feels a sigh course through his entire body at the fact that the dark haired girl is teasing him into asking.
"S-so..." He trails off, not sure if he just ask about the book or maybe bring up the way her cheeks are stretching a little too wide to be comfortable. The club manager shifts closer until he thinks he might be able to count her eyelashes over the frame of her glasses, "So?" She prompts. Swallowing, Shouyou nods at the book and then forces himself to stare into the ocean of mischief on his manager's face. "You- I mean, uhm- Book reading, what are?" She blinks, he blinks back before he feels agony ripple across his face in a deep blush.
Kiyoko says something too clearly to be a mumble but after a minute of deciphering he's left with nothing but empty sounds he doesn't understand. "What?" He prods, taking a look at the pages she offers him, finds nothing but confusing symbols that look almost like Romanji. "French." She gives and he gives the word a test from his own tongue, another one he's never had to use outside of school. "You're reading French?" She snorts, "I'm reading about French." He nods, looks towards the window instead of the other remaining mystery. "Why?" He blurts, wondering why someone would bother learning another language when they already know Japanese and some English. Kiyoko shrugs one shoulder, lifting the book closer to his face again, "Have you ever seen Paris, Shouyou?" The ocean is studying him again, but he just notices the absence of her smile. Shouyou shakes his head, catching some of her hair with his and only then does he realize how close Kiyoko actually is.
"It's supposed to be one of the most beautiful cities in all of France." He finds himself wondering about the most beautiful city in Japan, he wants to believe it's Tokyo, but he might be slightly biased by blond hair and warm arms. "Do you want to go there one day?" The bus stops before he gets an answer and the subject changes as soon as they're stepping on concrete. "Are you getting along with Yachi?" Shouyou frowns, wants to ask about a city he has no interest in, anything but the awkward situations he finds himself in when he notices Yachi's hair. "I think so?" She nods slowly, and her eyes dart over to the ground beneath them.
"Blood." Kiyoko is chewing on her lip and Shouyou really doesn't want more blood on her uniforms, "We're going to be late." He suggests quietly, tugging on her sleeve just above a patch of crimson stained blackness. The manager nods and starts walking, he drops his hand from her sleeve and falls into step, sharing silence he thinks to be awkward and tense. "Is there anywhere you want to travel to, Shouyou?" The question is quiet and almost lost in the wisps of her flickering hair, he almost wishes the words had fallen onto the ground, but he nods when she studies him.
"Where?"
Shouyou swallows, stares at the ground passing under their sneakers with sudden interest. "Tokyo." He mumbles, tries to see if he can learn her ability to change the topic until it's less awkward to discuss. He catches an eyebrow raise through inky bangs, "Because of the training camp?" The middle blocker smiles almost menacingly, grateful for an easy way out; he supposes, however, that the training camp is part of it, they'd be in Tokyo with Kenma. Nekoma would be there, he could meet his rival turned protector, he could...
Talk to Kuroo.
Knowing something is inevitable, in Shouyou's opinion, is the worst feeling ever. Knowing that those moments, or this one in particular, are drawing closer with each one of his empty breaths is something else. He shouldn't be scared of Kuroo, but he is, part of him will always be scared of Kuroo and what he represents to the middle blocker. "We'll be there in a few weeks, Shouyou." He thinks the words are sad, despite the smile she offers him. He wonders about Paris while he changes, searches his brain for something to use, something to make her dream seem like a few weeks. The only thing he knew about France was that it was over there, too close to Wales for him to think about it further.
Asahi is in what would be the empty club room, Shouyou takes a moment to hide his surprise, staring at the man with his title oddly because Asahi was never the first one here. "Good morning, Hinata." He hears between the rustling of clothes being removed. The middle blocker holds back anything that isn't blankness, "Call me Shouyou. Only Shouyou, Asahi-san." He chides, trying not to sound bitter because despite Asahi's niceness, the older boy was still an ace. "Sorry-sorry, but uh- why?" Shouyou blinks, wrings his practice jersey to stop his hands from trembling. He knows that a teammate would keep a secret, Daichi kept his running away and Suga-san's injuries under wraps, but knowing that he can trust his captain and vice-captain is different. Easier, he decides. Not knowing Asahi-san makes him hesitant to speak about anything except volleyball, knowing that Asahi is a really nice guy makes him feel guilty for keeping his quiet for so long.
"Can you keep a secret, Asahi-san?" He quips, resisting the urge to smile at his sudden genius. Asahi glances around the room, looking almost scared, Shouyou almost feels dumb for doubting Asahi-san's loyalty. A teammate's loyalty. A terse silence passes in which Shouyou finishes changing and Asahi is still studying the buttons on his school uniform, he ends up standing in beside the taller boy, making it look casual as possible should someone walk in on their conversation. Asahi's decision comes with the removal of his shirt, a stiff nod along with a too intense stare. He finds himself lacking the words he pieced together in the silence, "I uh," Swallows down too much fear that reminds him that there were no pills in his mouth today.
"I got kicked out."
Shouyou watches Asahi's bare shoulders tense up like he was fighting a chill, "Are you okay?" Wishes that people would stop using those words for they belong to someone else, not that Asahi-san would know that. "Shouyou?" The call of his name reminds him that he hasn't responded, "Do you need a place to stay?" The middle blocker almost laughs, but he really wishes that people would stop offering because he would have a difficult time saying no, especially to almost insistent brown eyes that are almost too close. "Do you know anything about France, Asahi-san?" Shouyou smiles, feeling like he's mastered a gift with his new ability to change the subject.
"Uh- Bread." Shouyou blinks, watches Asahi's tan cheeks turn almost pink. "Bread." The middle blocker repeats, Asahi-san nods again, the older boy's face morphs from confused to convicting. "Why are you asking that? You can't run from your problems, Hi-Shouyou." Shouyou almost smiles again, but he knows it would put a bitter taste in his mouth and allows his lips to fall into easy nothingness; he could easily run from his problems, has plenty of practice in that with trips to Tokyo and nights with Daichi when his legs get too itchy from being alone. Asahi-san opens his mouth and Shouyou can tell that he's about to be scolded again but clicking from the door makes the ace's teeth click shut.
"I heard something pretty interested, Asahi-san, just do not tell Noya-senpai and Tanaka-senpai."
There are shared gasps and suddenly the taller boy is being swarmed by two other bodies, Shouyou hides a smirk, "Kiyoko-senpai will be so upset." There's another pair of gasps and then Asahi-san is being squished while being interrogated about their angelic manager. The middle blocker offers the taller boy a smile on the way out of the room, feels dark eyes following him but he closes the club room door and enters the gym. Yachi and Kiyoko are speaking quietly by the open gym doors, he's unable to catch any of the words but Yachi is blushing and Kiyoko has that smirk curling the ends of her lips. He ducks past them before the urge to ask the taller girl about bread or why their new manager looks seconds from exploding.
The gym lacks the hum that it usually does, but Shouyou doesn't find it bothering, just a small tingling in the back of his head that makes him notice the lack of noise. "Kageyama?" He asks, taking a look at the taller boy when there's no smack of a returned ball, the setter nods at him and Shouyou is left feeling confused when Kageyama still doesn't serve him the ball again. A bad feeling settles in his stomach at the silence, something he can't name, but it doesn't last long before the buzz returns with confessions of love. And bread.
"Bread." Yachi queries, staring at Noya-senpai and Tanaka-senpai who had just jumped through the gym doors with their arms full, Shouyou is pretty sure he hears snickering from Asahi-san from across the gym and gives the older boy a non-hostile smile as he approaches.
"That wasn't very nice." He comments, observing his neighbor while her arms are trembling under the weight of her new gifts. None of the breads look particularly French, but he's not an expert, so he remains quiet while he takes in the scene. "No, it wasn't." The taller boy agrees from beside him, Shouyou ignores the pair of dark eyes staring him down. "It also isn't nice to have two idiots crowding you while you're naked." The middle blocker stares at the older boy levelly, "You weren't naked." He points out and Asahi just snorts in return.
"I gave you time, now I want answers." He's not sure if everything was intentional, but he thinks that Asahi, the most kindhearted person he knows, just manipulated two people and is now extorting answers from him; Shouyou sees all at once how people could mistake the older boy for Yakuza. "There's nothing to tell." He lies, because there's too much to tell and without the pills he could keep his mouth shut as long as he liked. "Where are you living? ...Please tell me it's not a bench or supply closet." He laughs, only falling off when the older boy glares down at him. "I stay with Daichi." He admits, ignoring the sometimes that was on his tongue.
Asahi's eyes go wide, Shouyou thinks he can see the older boy trembling but that might be him. "Th-Then you know about..." The older boy trails off with another suspicious glance around the gym. "About Suga?" Shouyou feels the world stop in tune with his heart. "You know about that?" He hisses, ignores the flinch from the older boy in favor of glaring him down for answers. "Of- Of course, Daichi and Suga are my best friends." The middle blockers allows himself a breath, feels irritation leaking from him as quickly as it pools in his gut; he wishes that he could forgive Asahi in that moment, forgive him for being friends with Daichi, but he finds the process too difficult because now there was one more person who could blame him for getting Suga-san hurt.
"He puts on a brave face but," Shouyou thinks he's had enough buts for a lifetime, "I know he's scared." The older boy looks at him with a frustrated expression, not blaming him like Shouyou know he should though. "He won't talk about it, but he always calls in the middle of the night sobbing." The middle blocker suddenly has the urge to throw himself off a too tall building. "I think he knows who did it, but won't tell anyone." Tell anyone and you're dead. Any doubt that it wasn't Kuroo vanished in an instant and the approaching trip to Tokyo fills him with deserved dread. Their deal was still fresh in his mind, like he was selling himself while preventing him from being a target, even if he deserves it. You belong to us.
"Are you scared?" Finds the question dumb because Asahi-san's default emotion was fear, but he needs to ask because in sixteen years he's never experienced more fear and dread than he has in the past couple months. The older boy looks down at him, like he's being gauged to see if he should be honest. "A little bit." Asahi's quivering voice tells him that it's more than that, infinitely so. "I'm angry though, at Suga, for keeping this hidden from everyone." Shouyou nods, wishing that this wasn't something he had in common with Asahi-san. "I don't know how to help."
Shouyou wants to help.
The urge to blurt out answers is almost overwhelming but teeth puncturing his lip eases the urge with beads of blood. "I want to help too." The older boy offers him a smile that shoves guilt down his throat, "I think he just need someone to be there for when he's ready to talk." He gives the older boy a nod, and they spare space while walking back to the club room.
He ends up at Suga's feet before school is even over, offering comfort as quietly as possible. The older boy pats him on the head and he feels bad for flinching away from the touch, "Sorry." He offers but Suga-san just offers him a bright smile that Shouyou thinks might be fake. "Are you feeling alright, Shouyou?" He flinches from that too, wishing just for once that Suga-san would allows himself to be taken care of. "No." He lies, "How's the food? Daichi told me that you like spicy stuff." The middle blocker ignores the indignant snort from his captain, even if he does agree that forcing Daichi to tell me about your favorite things doesn't sound as pleasant. Suga's tone is almost teasing when he offers his opinion, "I'm not sure how many people enjoy spice eggs but they were very good, although, I think that our captain might be suffering." There's a laugh and the dark haired boy sucks it up like a plant to sunlight, he's not sure how he can miss a noise he's not acquainted with.
Daichi's face was scrunched up in agony, Shouyou thought there might be some anger in there as well, and almost offers his own lunch over when mounds of something falls onto the two desks the three of them are sharing. "Bread." Suga comments, sounding both amused and bored with the sudden appearance of yeast and their manager. "K-Kiyoko-senpai." He squeaks, wondering if she's upset about the reignited affection Noya-senpai and Tanaka-senpai is giving her.
"Here, Daichi-san." An opened package of bread is pushed into Daichi's clenched fingers, Shouyou watches relief flood the older boy's face as the captain eats his new lunch. "Is there a reason you're carrying around... two-three-six loaves of bread, Shimizu-san?" Suga-san sounds very amused now, and his smile is almost enough to dull the guilt that won't stop carving up his stomach. Kiyoko's too blue eyes fall onto him, on the floor half hidden by Suga-san's legs, and she blinks at him. Shouyou thinks it's a threat. He's positive that it's a threat. "I smelled your lunch and remembered that I always carry bread in my purse, so here I am." The older boys laugh and Shoyou allows himself the smile tugging at his cheeks.
"Shouyou-kun." Kiyoko greets formally, as if they hadn't been spending weeks learning about each other on a sticky bus seat, like he hadn't thrown himself at a guy twice their combined size and bit him until he bled. "K-Kiyoko-senpai." He stutters back, offering her a bow that she returns with an incline of her neck. They share lunch, which is mostly bread at this point, and Shouyou can't find it himself to eat anything; that feeling of an inevitable outcome, where Kiyoko and Daichi figure everything out and everything gets ruined.
Lunch is too short for the taboo fate to happen, Shouyou finds himself sighing as he takes his seat in class one. The middle blocker stares at the teachers, at their moving lips, but none of the words drift into his ears. There's something wrong about everything, the only person who he thinks of as family - because Natsu would hate him if she knew everything - is feeding him ideas about someone he thinks he can trust. Dangerous. Mouths the word to his textbook, then once again, he knows danger. Has witnessed things he thinks would make Sato cry, but he just can't let it go. Every wide smile puts him on edge when he knows they shouldn't, that Kiyoko-senpai is just warming up to him. Grand King is dangerous. She had wiped his face from blood, he was more dangerous than her and she was taller than him. Kuroo was dangerous. He wondered if the team manager knew about why Suga had taken a week off from practice, why Shouyou was making lunch for the captain and vice-captain, why he was crawling into Sato's apartment instead of into the safety of warm arms more often than not.
The only dangerous thing about Kiyoko Shimizu, Shouyou decides, is that something in him is telling him that she knows; the middle blocker knows that it's impossible for her to know anything because she hadn't been there. He lets that comfort him through practice, Kageyama is close to quitting, can tell through awkwardly flaring nostrils more than the taller boy's half glare. "H-Hey, Shouyou-kun?" It's Yachi that breaks his concentration on questioning why Kageyama's glare wasn't entirely there when it should be.
"Yes?"
The blond, shorter and louder than Kenma could ever be, fidgets from the sidelines. "I need a favor." Shouyou smiles at the words, because a favor is how he had met Yachi, the girl that brings smiles to Kiyoko's face and the person to help with his abysmal English skills. He nods, "And Kageyama, too." He likes that... not as much, but glances at the taller boy, who Yachi refuses to talk to directly, and asks him to assist their manager to be. Kageyama, Shouyou dares to think, looks almost relieved to stop practicing.
"Okay, can I see you do a spike?" Shouyou blinks. He stares at one of the few people shorter than him, that he knows, with as confused expression as he can manage. Yachi, with the privilege of being convinced to be the new manager had the wonderful opportunity to watch him spike as long as he was doing just that. Which was quite often, he thinks his worry is completely warranted, even when he knows that Yachi had never hurt anything larger than a frog. That had been an accident, one that Yachi made him promise never to speak of.
He prays for the amphibian as much as he does so for himself, offers a nod to both Kageyama and to their manager in training before walking to the back of the court, volleyball in hand. The toss trembles through the air the same way his entire body does, he glances at Yachi but she's only a blur of vertical lines while he jumps; spiking gives him enough distraction to prepare his feet for landing, he glances at the blond girl, expecting to see awe or a calculating expression.
Flashes of light rip expectations from him, replace them with fear and dread, because flashes of light meant something had been stolen.
Shouyou performs what he always does when presented with a problem.
He runs.