Chapter Forty-Five
"I won't tell." Tsukishima says, and Shouyou almost sighs until he catches the glint in the taller boy's eyes, "Yet." He finishes. He thinks he should be feeling fear or dread but something about Tsukishima tells him that the more he tried to force the other into silence the more quickly he would tell, Shouyou nods, unsure if he should be thanking the other middle blocker for tricking him or if he should punch him as hard as their closeness will allow. "Have you?" The other boy asks, "Told anyone, I mean." He nods again. "Kenma." Is his answer gives him enough strength to stand, just carefully enough to avoid stepping on any of Tsukishima's too long limbs. "How does he feel about it?" The blond asks, as if there was more than one way to respond to a situation like his. "He has a plan." He's not sure why the plan to liberate him feels like it's weighing him down more than it should. Tsukishima nods while adjusting his glasses until they're even again, "Do you trust him?" Shouyou nods, biting down too many confessions of how he trusted Kenma the most.
His protector is sitting on the steps just outside of the gym door, he rushes a step in front of Tsukishima and only stops when he can make out the gold in Kenma's eyes from the dim yellow that the gym provides. "Kozume." Tsukishima says from behind him, he expects Kenma to roll his eyes or say something but the older boy just stares, a flat look that says things too quickly for him to catch completely. Tsukishima walks past them, he can just hear Bokuto-san's greeting over the ringing his protector causes in ears. "Kenma." He says, feeling empty but still full in a way he can't explain, "Shouyou." Kenma replies, grabbing onto his wrist with long fingers and tugging on his arm until he finds his way onto the step below Kenma's, the distance just far enough for him to set his head in the older boy's lap. "Can I tell you something?" He asks after a moment of just listening to both of them breathe. Kenma hums quietly, not quite a yes or no, "I'm scared." Kenma hums again, "Why?" Accompanying it.
Shouyou shrugs, his shoulder bumping into Kenma's shin, "What if your plan doesn't work?" Kenma is quiet for another long moment, Shouyou can almost hear the older boy thinking, "I don't see why you'd think that," Fingers spread across his shoulders, toying with the tips of his hair, "If Oikawa doesn't back off after this-" He cuts the older boy off, "What if he doesn't back off? Aren't you worried he might- fight back?" Kenma's fingers still on his neck, "No." Is his protector's reply, "My team will get the job done, I believe in them." The older boy's tone is dark, serious in ways he doesn't like. "You're not going to kill him, are you?" He asks, not for any real reason until Kenma's legs tense around him, "Not unless I have to." Shouyou nods, he just figured out what he was full of. Dread, sympathy maybe. I said yes, he thinks, wondering why his acceptance had to turn into this. "Will you hate me if I do?" Kenma's fingers dig into his skin and he thinks that the older boy might even be aware of it, "I'm not sure." He answers, honest as possible.
"I don't think so." He clarifies after another thick silence. Kenma hums in return, "I think it would hurt, if you did." Shouyou nods, one of his true fears being that Kenma would hate him. "Can I love you and hate you at the same time?" The other boy snorts, "Not sure." He says seriously. "Can I tell you something else?" Kenma doesn't respond except with fingers massaging the damp muscles on his shoulders, "I love you, a lot." Kenma laughs, a small snort that makes him feel warm, then there's something warm on his head and Shouyou freezes minutely. A smack, Kenma's lips, he knows the sound, comes from above him, "Sorry." The older boy says, Shouyou swallows around doubt and steady panic, "It's fine." He responds, feeling stupid for having a stupid reaction but even Kenma's lips feel like that too big hand, that smack like acid being spewed at him in low tones. He doesn't let the words replay in his head, drowns them out until they're just mumbles of a time too long ago.
When it truly is fine, Shouyou turns around in Kenma's grasp until he's looking up into golden irises that glow in the dimness of the night; Kenma stares down at him, blinking to break apart long stares, "You don't need to be scares, Shouyou." The middle blocker nods, a nudge of something pressing against too much doubt and fear, "I believe you." He says, he knows he can't hate Kenma, even when the older boy is promising to hurt someone else, talking about ending someone's life for him. "Can I kiss you, Shouyou?" Kenma asks, he nods and rings of gold get bigger until they disappear under pale skin.
Kissing Kenma is nice, warm and rough but over too soon. The older boy pulls back, breathing only slightly harder, "What was that for?" He asks with a smile, the older boy snorts, "Because I love you too, Shouyou." The warmth pulls him to his feet, Kenma follows and the older boy is suddenly towering over him. "We should get inside." Kenma nods quietly but Shouyou can see the reluctance in the older boy's actions. "We can sit out, if you want." He offers, the older boy snorts quietly, "You can play, Shouyou." The middle blocker whines back, "But I want you to play with me." Kenma's eyes roll again, it's enough of a distraction for him to pull the older boy towards the court again. Akaashi-san catches his eye, barely blue gaze staring him down from the moment his shoes hover over the sideline, too many questions rolled into too few seconds of eye contact and Shouyou just nods, offering the older boy a shaky smile. Akaashi-san responds by launching a ball towards his face.
Kuroo's gaze is there too, heavy and overwhelming, the middle blocker finds himself staring at the Nekoma captain often, making sure the older boy doesn't end up on his side of the net and in his face. Kenma catches on to him quickly, giving him a sharp enough look that he feels bad about being terrified of the older boy. His protector ends up by the Nekoma captain's side when practice is finished, trapping him between seeking warmth and being near Kuroo. His approach is hesitant, slow and light enough that he could turn to run the moment Kuroo's notices him; Kenma's arm drapes around his shoulders, trapping him in comfort to stare at Kuroo. "Shouyou." Kuroo says, leaning down until chopper eyes are replacing the sweat stains that he'd been staring at. "Kuroo-san." He mumbles back, Kenma's fingers press into his shoulder, only hard enough for him to notice. "Sorry." He offers. Suppressing a flinch when Kuroo's hand starts waving, Shouyou makes a step back instead but Kenma's grip is unrelenting. "It's fine, Shouyou-chan, you're probably just tired, right?" The middle blocker nods stiffly under Kuroo's sharp gaze and gleaming teeth. "Tired." He agrees, urging his skin to stop itching, to accept Kuroo's non-existent apology. For Kenma's sake. "Thank you." He says. It tastes like defeat but it makes Kenma's arm loose enough for him to slip out of. Scurrying towards the gym door, he can't help but notice that he voluntarily left Kenma's warmth. Over Kuroo. Disgust and something like hate wraps around the clump of terror that resides in his gut, the Nekoma captain can still be heard, barking laughter too loud even when muffled by steel and the sound of his too quick breathing.
He makes it back to where his team is staying before he feels anything, too many things to process that end up dripping down his chin while he forces his way under Daichi's arms. There's questioning mumbles that he can't make out over the looping sensations of what had just happened. His breathing accelerates until inhaling and exhaling turn into the same thing, his chest freezes in place. Too hot sensations flow over his overheated skin, feeling like it might slide into his bones and melt them into nothingness. He wishes that he didn't run and he wishes that he didn't feel glad that he did. There's a clap, like lightning and everything pulls into tilting focus, the thoughts are still there, along with the voices of conversations past but they grow more and more distant as the burning in his bones grows more solid.
"What the hell?" Someone calls and his head is actually tilting back until he sees nothing but ceiling. "Yuu!" That same voice shouts, "Yuukio." Shouyou corrects, something bitter sliding up his throat, "Yuukio Hinata." He says finally, sliding his fingers until they're all resting over his racing heart. "Car crash." He muses, feeling stupid and relieved that at least he could feel something, like the rhythm under his fingers, he wonders if Natsu remembers anything about him, if Natsu will remember anything about him too. Big brother, big brother. "Shouyou?" Someone asks, a gruff voice, he thinks his dad had the same one. "Yuukio?" He asks the ceiling, to the nights filled with orange eyes and dead leaves. "Just Yuu." A gruff laugh accompanying it, Shouyou lets out a sigh of relief he wishes he didn't have. "Senpai." He clarifies, there's a huff that circles around him.
"Sorry about hitting you." Noya says, loose and messy hair edging into his vision, Shouyou laughs, "Guess that explains why my face hurts." There's another noise, disgruntlement seeping from it and nothing else, "Daichi?" He asks, wondering when the weight of heavy arms had been removed from around him. "Are you okay, Shouyou?" He nods, hair sliding into not wood flooring like what's under his legs, "Sorry." He offers, meaning it as well. Shouyou listens to his captain's huff before he decides to look at the older boy, Daichi's face is contorted in half rage and half concern, an odd mixture that makes too many wrinkles on a tanned forehead. "You'll get wrinkles." He chides, the older boy's face loosens minutely into an almost grin through a heavy grimace. "I'll be dead before I get those if you show up like that again." Shouyou nods, feeling guilty all over, imagining his own kouhai running at him in the midst of a panic attack and barely breathing.
"Sorry." He reiterates when his captain helps him sit up, his spine feels loose, like he might tilt over and hit his head on the ground at any moment. "It's fine, Shouyou." Daichi sighs from around him, "I just wish you'd be more careful." Careful, he thinks with an empty nod. If he had been careful, he wouldn't have said yes. If he had been careful, he wouldn't lose track of the times he couldn't breathe. "You're right." He huffs back, shameful and embarrassed for being so careless about everything. Daichi grunts back, "Nishinoya." The middle blocker lets his gaze fall onto his just smaller teammate, the older boy is twitching in place and staring at the floor intently, "I thought it would help..." Shouyou thinks it might have, even if his cheek really hurts now. "It's okay." He admonishes but Daichi interrupts before he can finish, "Apologize." Barked out and making the room snicker sneakily.
"I'm really sorry, Shouyou."
"Thank you."
"Uh- What?" Noya-senpai squeaks back, staring at him with too much confusion that Shouyou laughs. "Thank you." He repeats, giving his best attempt to remain as serious as possible, the older boy blinks at him, half an honest smile quirking up that quickly falls into a quivering frown. "Uh-" The libero says before falling into a series of mutters that he can't make out; letting his friend cope, Shouyou looks back towards his captain before scooting to lean against the older male's side. "Shouyou?" Daichi asks, looking down at him with only half the shock that had been there before, "It's nothing." He says, because it should be nothing and he was willing to pretend that that was the truth. "That usually means bad news." Not-Daichi says before messy silver hair peeks into the field of vision that isn't blocked by Daichi's shirt, "Suga-san?" He asks, wondering what the older male meant exactly about bad news. "You can't just run into a room, crying and say it was nothing." Shouyou is pretty sure that's exactly what he just did. "I wasn't crying." He mutters indignantly, pressing his not wet eyes into Daichi's shirt. Stupid Suga-san. "Idiot." Someone mutters, Kageyama, he's pretty sure. Most likely. Definitely, he corrects when he can practically smell yogurt and awkward sweat.
"Shut up." He shoots back, not even looking at the taller boy. The setter makes a weird noise but doesn't use his words or move from his too close perch; he's not really sure what to do now, Suga-san is expecting answers that he can't give yet and Kageyama's gaze is starting to make his skin jittery again. He doesn't want to run again, not from Daichi, running from Kenma had been too easy and now it hurt. He knew that that his setter was nothing like Kuroo, that Kageyama would never make a deal with him or any of the things that Kuroo had done, but that doesn't stop their looks from having the same weight, like a huge animal getting ready to pounce. He wants to leave again but he knows that he can't, that he wouldn't have anyone to run to, knows that being alone was more dangerous than being around dangerous people.
"I need to go to the bathroom." He says, pulling away from Daichi's rough and warm presence until his feet are sore under his weight, "Do you want me to come with you?" The middle blocker almost makes a comment on how he's not a child and doesn't need help, even if he feels too small in his skin right now. "No thanks, Suga-san." He replies with a polite smile before sliding the door shut, blocking himself off from everyone. He walks almost aimlessly, in the general direction of the nearest bathroom but at a slow enough pace where he could turn wherever he felt like. His feet find sterile white before he can decide anything else, the bathroom isn't quite dirty but the floor is still sticky and the lights are too bright on his eyes that his brain almost slips to too long ago, the effort to keep those things locked up is enough to distract him and dull the pain of his back hitting the floor.
"Oh! Shouyou-chan!" A deep voice calls, almost like the dark but not quite, "I'm really sorry about that, I didn't see you there." He lets himself view the person in front of him, too tall with almost gold eyes, most importantly, not Kuroo. "Bokuto-san." He names, trying to work unresponsive nerves into a smile. Bokuto-san frowns down at him, "You sound just like Akaashi, Shou-chan, you should really loosen up- we're friends, right?" He barely dodges the wide palm snaking towards his hair, slow enough that it still makes contact with his skin. It's hot, rough and damp, "Right, Shou-chan?" Bokuto-san whines, turmoil echoing off the bathroom walls. "Right." Shouyou barely answers before pushing his face into Bokuto-san's chest, feeling the older boy's heartbeat under his forehead. "Uh- What're you doing, little guy?" Bokuto-san says and Shouyou almost pulls back, almost feels embarrassed enough to offer an explanation. He doesn't do either of those, instead he just presses further until he can feel the spaces between Bokuto-san's ribs on his cheeks.
The crying is more shocking than the fact that he's hugging Bokuto-san in a bathroom, fat tears that can't form fully before they're being dried up by an already soaked shirt. The older boy's chest tightens under him when he loops his arms around a stocky waist and lets himself break down, Shouyou doesn't comment on it, doesn't pull back when half warm hands, more rough than Daichi's, slide across his neck and through his hair. There's not enough energy in his nerves to flinch away from the sensation, not enough brain power to go back in time, to the prelims where everything fell apart. His knees tremble and he's not sure if he drags the older boy down or if Bokuto-san is pitying him enough to sit with him on sticky tiles. "It's okay, Shouyou." Bokuto-san says, he's pretty it's the first time that there wasn't just happy or sad in the older boy's tone. He hates that he had to be the one to cause it, hates that he can't apologize through heavy sobs that make breathing too difficult. It's threatening and all consuming, the crying, it's weakness and Shouyou is too paralyzed to do anything about it, he rides through too many empty sensations, the most powerful, the one most difficult to deal with is the running, running from Kenma and Daichi until he ended up alone. "Sorry." He says to them both from too far away, warm fingers drag across his scalp, blunt nails heating his skin almost nicely. "It's okay, Shouyou." They both reply, though Shouyou knows that they're too far away to hear right now.
He hates that it's like this, that there are times when he doesn't remember going to sleep, that all those emotions from before are just gone. His legs are sticky, his head his throbbing and opening his eyes provides a burn too intense to be real. Shouyou rubs at them, rubs away crust and the itching from not crying about a problem that he alone created, "Shou-chan?" Not-Kenma and Not-Daichi calls, he grunts back, taking in the tenderness that means he had been dreaming about something, too many things, probably. "Feeling better?" Bokuto-san asks, like he had offered him a glass of water instead of sitting with him while he screamed and passed out, "I-" Clearing his throat doesn't ease the grittiness on his vocal chords and he kind of wishes that the older boy had actually gotten him water, "I think so." He grates out, wondering how much of a lie it sounds like, even his words aren't entirely far from the truth, he feels better, just not better. "I'm really sorry about before, Shou-chan, I really didn't mean to scare you." He wants to say so many things, that the older boy hadn't just scared him, that he had actually been there, at that house with too many memories. "It's okay, Bokuto-san." A weight too sturdy to be a hand settles on his scalp, he's pretty sure that it's the other boy's chin. "I'm really, really sorry." He wonders if his acceptance of apology had come out wrong, "It'll be okay." He says instead, because it will be, he'll apologize to Kenma, Daichi and Kuroo.
Even the name makes him tense. It shouldn't, he thinks, is pretty sure that the deal was a promise, that belonging to me didn't mean that, not for now. He wishes not for now didn't make him as relieved as it did, never was much better. Never belonging to Kuroo. "Shouyou?" Bokuto-san asks, quietly which he thinks might be a first for the older boy, he hums in askance, tweaking his head slightly under the weight of a head heavy with hair gel and eyebrows, "You're shaking." The middle blocker looks down at his hands, ignoring the fact that Bokuto-san's arms are around him like tanned snakes, "Sorry." He says once he's not distracted by too big arms and his trembling limbs.
"Want to talk about it?" Bokuto-san says after a while, when things turn into the two of them staring at the trashcan on the far end of the room. "I ran away." He wonders if Bokuto-san will even understand that, he's run away from too many things, not that the older boy knows that. "I saw, Akaashi was really worried." Shouyou is pretty sure there's a difference between worried and really worried, he's just not sure how to ask, "He almost went after you but..." The older boy trails off with a small noise that Shouyou can only hear because Bokuto-san's mouth is almost on his head, "That other kid stopped him." There's three other kids he remembers being in the gym, "Tsukishima?" Bokuto-san makes a noise, denial and amusement, maybe. "Nah, not the tall one."
"...Kuroo?" The name is hard to choke out and Bokuto-san's arms tighten around his chest when it finally does come out. "Nope, his friend, the shorter one." Shouyou blinks, "Kenma?" He can feel Bokuto-san's smile forming and can hear it in his words, "Ah, right, Kenma! Yeah- He stopped Akaashi from running after you." Shouyou nods, ignoring the burn Bokuto-san's chin leaves on his head. Why, he wonders when too many scenarios start to pile together. All of them overwhelming on their own and devastating when stacked together, "Do you remember what he said?" He presses, not even attempting to sound less desperate and scared than he is. Bokuto-san's hum echoes through the bathroom, overlapping growls as something works in the older boy's head, "Not really, he just said you needed space- or something." Or something does nothing for the shaking in his fingers and he sighs loudly because he won't know anything until he talks to the older boy.
Something else sticks in his mind, a detail he almost missed in mounting dread. Kuroo's friend. He's not sure how he had forgotten that, that Kenma didn't know and probably wouldn't, ever. He tries to imagine everything from Kenma's perspective, the not knowing perspective, in which one friend is hating another friend for no reason, even if he does have a reason. A good one, he thinks. "Shouyou?" Bokuto-san asks again and Shouyou looks down at his hands again, clenched but not shaking. "Yes?" He asks the trashcan on the far end of the room, "Do you want to get up?" Bokuto-san's arms twitch around his waist, like an offer.
His butt is numb and tingling, his legs are sticking to the floor, his stomach is starting to sweat and he's thinking about doing something instead of actually doing something. "No." He says because yes is too complex, because it leads to too many things, almost none of them are good things, he's learned. "If you're sure." The older boy says, almost like a question before a too big body slumps against his, almost too much not to crush him.
"It's not the first time." He says when Bokuto-san's breathing gets less frequent, "First time doing what?" The older boy asks instead of remaining silent like Shouyou hoped he would. "Running away." The older boy chuckles, an stark difference from the last time he heard Bokuto-san laugh, "We all run away from something." He says, sounding like he's reading an invisible textbook instead of attempting to be wise, he's not sure what to think of that. "Well, I guess I was technically kicked out." The older boy's fingers tighten around him, guarding him from things that have already happened. He decides not to tell Bokuto-san why he left home, "I stayed with Kenma after that and- got really sick." Sick sounds better than anything else he can think of. Disorder. Freak. "You must really admire him." That sensation returns, like he can feel the older boy's smile with seeing it, "He protects me." Which is more than admire could ever cover.
"Kuroo took care of me."
"Sorry, what was that?"
Shouyou shakes his head, letting those thoughts slide onto the floor but they climb back up before he can run away from them. "Kenma said that Kuroo took care of me when I was sick." Everything he's seen Kuroo do, all the promises and deals that they've made makes Kuroo seem like a monster, something too dark to be just human, a normal guy who brings soup to temporary neighbors. "That's... good?" Bokuto-san says, clearly not caught up on everything that he's thinking, he supposed that it's a good thing, that if Bokuto-san could see his thoughts that the older boy would be mad at one or both of them. "Why am I still scared of him, Bokuto-san?" He asks because asking himself is pointless, that it would lead to I don't know, to I said yes.
"I'm not sure, he seems like a nice dude." Bokuto-san answers, Shouyou wonders if those words would change if Bokuto-san knew, if he would even care if there was no reason to. Too many people know, he thinks and the urge to tell dies down because if everyone knew, then everyone would know where to point fingers in three weeks when they hurt Grand King. Would you hate me? He's still not sure. "Bokuto-san?" He asks, "If Akaashi-san hurt someone, would you be mad at him?" It feels like a stupid question, but Bokuto-san is here and he wants answers. "I'd be impressed." The older boy chirps back with a chuckle, "Akaashi-san may act mean but he's never wanted to fight anyone." He hums back, not sure why he was expecting something else, Boktuo-san's relationship with Akaashi-san was nothing like his relationship with Kenma.
"How would you feel?" Shouyou blinks, "If Akaashi-san hurt someone?"
"If Kenma hurt someone, I mean." It sounds different out loud, like Bokuto-san's careful tone make hurt sound like less of a word, like plans and deals meant almost nothing to the older boy. "I'm not sure." A scoff scoots across his hair, blowing inky bangs into his eyes, "Sure you do, Shou-chan, if you don't know how you feel then how are other people supposed to?" His mouth freezes before he can make a reply, something in Bokuto-san's words rattle around his brain for a long second. "I think I should be happy? Relieved, maybe?" He hopes that the older boy doesn't think any less of him for that, for being glad that someone was hurting. "They must have really deserved it then." Another snort of warm breath, a quiet laugh that he was sure couldn't belong to Bokuto-san. "What do you mean by that?" He asks, suspicious all too quickly. Hands dig into his sides, making him squirm away from too warm fingers, "I mean, you and Kenma seem like nice guys," Shouyou is pretty sure that the older boy had just called Kuroo a nice guy, "If you both wanted to hurt someone, then they must have done something really wrong."
"But," Bokuto-san starts, tone higher like he might make a joke, "You should tell an adult or you guys might get in trouble, then I can't teach you any more moves, got it?" Shouyou nods, still uncertain because he's pretty sure that any adult he told would laugh at him if he said that the Aoba Johsai captain hurt him.
"Now get up, my ass is getting sore."
"Butt." He corrects, old reflex spurring up through his weird mood.
"Butt?" Bokuto-san asks once he's standing, offering him a wide hand.
"It's a nicer word." He explains, letting the older boy's hand envelop his until he's levered onto his feet. "Alright then, my butt numb, Shou-chan, can we leave now?" The older boy is leading the way towards the door already and Shouyou is forced by the grip on his fingers to follow; the hallway seems like an entirely different place, like time was moving again once Bokuto-san led him away from sticky floor and bright lights, he thinks about apologizing, that he's calm enough to explain why he ran away from everyone and ended up crying in the bathroom with Bokuto-san. Instead of being led towards the room where his team is or the room where Kenma is, he's led to the door between them.
"Captain!" The room echoes and he flinches away from it before being tugged inside by rough fingers, "Shouyou-san?" Akaashi-san calls alone and the grip on his hand leads him towards the voice until he can see the almost blue of Akaashi-san's eyes. "You're looking better, sort of." He half smiles at the older boy, not really sure if that's a compliment or not, "Thank you?" Akaashi-san's smile is small and polite, tense in a way that a smile shouldn't be. "Akaashi, Shou-chan and I are best friends now, are you jealous? Huh, are you, Akaashi?" Akaashi-san's almost blue gaze slides off of him slowly and lands on the boy gripping his hand with flat intensity, "No, Bokuto-san." The older boy retorts flatly before patting the empty floor beside him.
Bokuto-san groans as he settles onto the floor again, mild mutterings that Shouyou is glad he doesn't catch follow him as two warm bodies press against his shoulders, "How did things go, Shouyou?" The setters asks once he's settled, Shouyou pretends not to notice the intensity of Akaashi-san's gaze, like the older boy is attempting to pry into his head with his eyes alone. "Bokuto-san calmed me down, I had a panic attack, I think." He explains, half sure he can identify the difference between a panic attack and a breakdown now.
"I was pretty sure that Bokuto-san couldn't calm down a statue, guess I was wrong."
"Akaashi!" Bokuto-san whines, drawing even closer until he's practically sliding onto Akaashi-san's lap. "You're not exactly a calming figure, captain-san." One of Bokuto-san's teammates points out, the room erupts into loud chuckles.
Captain.
Shouyou is pretty sure he knows what kind of captain Bokuto-san is now,