Chapter Forty-Six
He doesn't leave Bokuto-san's side that night, ends up squeezing with the older male onto a lumpy futon because he's too not scared to return to Daichi or Kenma, especially in the dark. The older male doesn't say anything except for, "Good night, Shou-chan," and a much louder, "Good night, Akaashi!" Big hands settle across his waist like it's natural for Bokuto-san to just hold almost strangers while he goes to sleep. He supposed that they're more than almost strangers, fast friends, maybe. He's still not sure what to think of the older boy, even if he did realize that Bokuto-san was being truly apologetic of his own will instead of Akaashi-san's. Why would he stay if he didn't? Bokuto-san's arms are huge, the older boy could have easily flicked him off, should have flicked him off so he could scream on a sticky floor until he passed out. That's why he thinks of Bokuto-san as a friend, he think, maybe. Even if the older boy is intimidating, too much resemblance to an orange eyed companion that brought him grief, he thinks he can find something in Bokuto-san besides the almost forced comfort.
"Shou-chan?" Bokuto-san almost whispers, mint and hints of meat glide across the skin of his cheek, "You're not sleeping."
"I can't sleep when you're talking, Bokuto-san." Comes his would-be-scold but the older boy sees through him easily, squeezing his sides until he's muffling squeals into a limp pillow. "Bokuto-san!" He gasps, wishing that the throbbing in his sides was from laughing, he almost forgot about them, the scars, and the countdown. Almost. Closer to two weeks than three, it's terrifying and he feels his body tense up under Bokuto-san's fingers. Something made of uncertainty shifts through him, that he really doesn't want things to turn out this way, that he and Kenma could get into trouble for even thinking about hurting Grand King. He needs it though, not to hurt, but for everything to be over, to say something without saying anything. No. He wonders if it will be loud enough or if the Aoba Johsai captain will continue to own him, to use him and break him in any way he sees fit. Something tells him if this doesn't work that that it would be every way he sees fit.
It's hard to sleep with those thoughts, even if he's not thinking about them Bokuto-san's fingers drag him back with unintentional pain. His sides are throbbing by the time he forces his eyes closed, that it itself is exhausting and he thinks it might be what sends him into fading nothingness. His rest is uneasy, every too real sensation blurs past him with only a few things he can recognize, his protector and the Grand King. His body jerks into alertness after each glimpse of darkened eyes and not quite red. Bokuto-san is there each time, petting his head as his entire body falls into trembling and night sweats, the older boy doesn't seem to be awake but Shouyou is pretty sure that the older boy is attempting to give him privacy, even when he can hear humming directly into his skull. He thinks it should be nice, having this comfort without the urge to run away, but the fingers and the warmth belong to neither Kenma or Daichi. He's not sure why he decided to stay and he knew that it would be very disrespectful to leave now.
The night is slow passing, only a handful of minutes passing before his eyes are pushed open because his breathing is too fast and too empty. "Shouyou?" Bokuto-san asks low in his ear, low enough to be a whisper and low enough to make his nerves spark with unease. He was pretty sure that the older boy didn't even know what was whispering was, "Yes?" He asks, dull ache flaring to life with the use of his voice. Something new meant things were about to go wrong. "Do you believe in ghosts?" Shouyou feels his brain stutter to a stop. "Ghosts?" He echoes more than asks. Bokuto-san's loose hair twitches against his neck along with a stubbly chin, "Do ya?" Shouyou shrugs, "I'm not sure." He answers as honestly as possible. There's a huff of breath against his skin, "Akaashi says ghosts are lame." Something too quiet to be a laugh follows the older boy's words.
"I think they're pretty cool though- one time I saw my grandma making wagashi." He's not really sure what to make of the story but Bokuto-san's voice is enough noise to fill the silence that breeds nightmares, so he listens for as long as he can handle, "She's in a wheelchair- er, well, was in a wheelchair, I guess- she kind of looks like Akaashi, but she's much nicer than Akaashi. One time I asked him to get ramen with me and he made me pay." There's another noise that tells him that Bokuto-san isn't actually mad about that memory, "You're the one who asked me, Bokuto-san." The older boy says in what might be considered an imitation of Akaashi-san's voice, another silence settles on top of him like concrete after that but the shifting of Bokuto-san's body tells him that the older boy isn't quite asleep.
"Shou-chan?" Bokuto-san asks softly. The middle blocker hums in return, feeling tired but restless, with his sides burning and his chest throbbing, "Do you like ice cream?" He's not really sure why he thought he had Bokuto-san figured out, at all. The older boy was still a mystery, a coin with too many sides, all of them harmless as far as he could tell, just strange. "Yes, Bokuto-san." The older boy mumbles something he can't hear despite how close the older boy's mouth is to his ear, "One time I dropped my ice cream into a sewer drain and Akaashi wouldn't let me go get it." Very strange. "I never had ice cream again." Shouyou smiles into the almost dark, "That's a really sad story, Bokuto-san." He lies. The older boy sniffles quietly and he wonders if Bokuto-san is actually crying, "It was plum flavor- I can remember it like it was yesterday."
"It was yesterday, now please go to sleep, Bokuto-san." Akaashi's voice is too sudden and it makes his heart race, though he knows that the setter isn't as dangerous as the ones he knows. Bokuto-san sniffles again, apologizing through disgusting sobs, "Sorry, Akaashi." The older boy settles down quickly, slow breaths that make him wonder if the older boy had even been awake at all. He tries not to think, tries to find blanks equal to the ones his eyelids provide but it isn't working. Every cricket reminds him of too many places, Tokyo and back home, back in that house with glowing eyes and crying Sato. The lack of sympathy that he had that night, the feeling of him hating himself for not being sorry. The room, his room, with the open window and Grand King's face filling up shadowed areas, liking what happened after that.
His body is shifting again, searching for something he can't quite get a grasp on until it's there. He knows it's not Kenma's, can feel everything wrong through each nerve in his body. Thump-thump. He thinks along with the beat, feels his face getting too warm under the rush of Bokuto-san's blood. Sleep is easier like this, even when his brain is telling him that everything is wrong.
Hair gel wakes him up, though he's not quite sure how he recognizes the smell. "Shou-chan?" A too awake voice asks after his shoulder pops loudly. He groans back. "Hm." Akaashi-san says from across the room, Shouyou can practically hear the older boy rubbing his chin. "Hm?" Bokuto-san asks, closer than before and the smell of hair gel follows. "I thought he'd be a morning person." Bokuto-san laughs. "Not everyone feels the need to rise with the sun and meditate." Akaashi-san's silence is heavy for a moment.
"It's nice. Getting away from you is also a bonus." There's laughter that surrounds him, too much at once that makes his shoulders tense, reminding him that he's alone with people he doesn't know. His eyes open on their own, his feet easily manage his weight while he stands, "Shouyou?" Akaashi-san asks and the middle blocker finds himself able to observe instead of see. "Good morning, Akaashi-san." He offers along with as best a smile as he can manage. The older boy stares him down for a moment, his barely there smile wilts into nothingness under the setter's gaze. "Sorry- I-" He's not quite sure what he's apologizing for but Akaashi's barely blue gaze is making his brain jittery, "I should get back to my team." One of Akaashi-san's eyebrows raises suddenly, "Right." Comes the flat response, "Have a good morning, Shouyou." Softer than before, like the setter can see through him.
He kneels, to the silent boy on the ground, a mirror in one hand and a glob of wetness in the other, there's a pout that shouldn't be there on Bokuto-san's face, "Thank you, Bokuto-san." He says, meaning all of it because it shouldn't have happened. Narrowed eyes meet his in the small mirror, "Anything for a friend." The older boy says, sounding very close to tears, though he isn't sure why. He thinks about offering physical comfort, like the older boy had been giving him all night but can't quite bring himself to set one of his hands on too broad shoulders. "Thanks." He says again, shifting until he's standing and walking until he's in out of one door and standing in front of another. Sliding it open is harder than it should be, he thinks, taking a step inside is even more difficult.
"Shouyou?" Daichi's voice calls as he steps in and he finds his eyes opening, only half wondering why they closed in the first place. The next step is easier, the one after that is simpler until he's kneeling again, in front of his own captain instead of an unfamiliar one. "I'm really sorry." He says, formal in a way he's becoming too familiar with. Daichi's gaze is like physical weight, "Why did you run?" He asks. Shouyou still doesn't have an answer, not one he can share. "I'm really sorry." He supplies, wishing everything would just stop. "Hey," Daichi says, quieter and closer than it should be, then there's hands on him, on his arms but too close to bruises that he tenses. "It's okay, Shouyou." He's doesn't believe that and he's not sure how his captain can. "Morning, Shouyou." Suga-san says, just as close as his captain; he leans up, away from the floor until he can see the older boys' faces. "Suga-san." He greets, careful to read the setter's expression before he makes direct eye contact.
"Are you feeling better?" Shouyou thinks the question is stupid, even he finds it warming that the older boy had been thinking about him, he's just not sure what he's feeling or if he should be feeling anything at all. "I think so?" He offers, scratching at his cheek awkwardly while the older boy offers him a cringe wrapped in a smile. "That's something- I think?" There's a laugh, something warm but awkward that reminds him that Suga-san is kind of like him. Hurt. Even if the older boy is handling it much better than he is.
"Breakfast?" Daichi asks, like he really wants to get out of this conversation, "Shouyou?" Suga-san asks, like waiting for him to reveal something. "Yes, I just to-" He trails off, eyeing the room and his meandering teammates. "Right!" The setter chirps, "Uh-" he voices at the same time as Daichi's, "Hm-" The older boys laugh with each other before both of their gazes are back on him, "Water?" Suga-san asks. He thinks about the night before, of screaming and hours of being pulled back there. His nod is heavy, holding too much weight that it must be obvious, Suga-san's face twists in sympathy and the setter quickly exits the room. His captain's expression is sour when he finds the nerve to look at the older boy. "Daichi?" He asks, because he needs to, the older boy's face jerks back, like he'd been ripped from somewhere else. He knows a bit about that, "Shouyou?" Daichi asks back, he can see the effort his captain is exerting to morph his face into captain-ness. "Uhm- Are you- I mean, is everything okay?" He questions, Daichi is usually okay, always okay. The older boy nods but his words show his not okay-ness, "Did I scare you last night?" He thinks about answering before he thinks about answering, tries to determine what would be the least yes yes he can think of. "Kind of," He says when the older boy's stare is getting too intense, even when he fixates his gaze on Yamaguchi, still sleeping and cuddling into a pillow. "I know you didn't mean it," He says, though his words make it sound more like Daichi's fault than it is, "My brain is just a little uh-" Looking for a nice way to say messed up is harder than it should be.
"Off?" The older boy supplies with a smile that he catches through a shield of dark hair, the middle blocker nods, "Off." He repeats, though it sounds wrong and not quite definite. He could settle for off, at least for now. Suga-san returns before he can repeat it again. Off, his brain says instead of his mouth. "Thanks, Suga-san." He says, taking the unsure weight of an offered water bottle; the older boy hums quietly, not quite an answer before he's taking the spot next to their captain, back to the wall and maybe a perfect place to keep on eye on the room while he slides towards his bag. Orange is between his fingers, soft in ways that he can no longer remember orange being. He can't see the bottle but he can see blue-grey eyes peering down at him, stuck behind glass because those moments no longer exist. Twisting the cap off takes longer after Yuukio is no longer haunting his thoughts, his hands trembling too hard to manage a grip on the lid.
The lid pops off instead of slides off and his eyes dart to Suga-san, the older boy nods at him but he takes his own look around the room, making sure not to have caught anyone's attention. Kageyama is the only one looking in his direction, more staring than looking but he thinks that might just be the setter's face. The pills are gone, down his throat already but he continues to drink until there's nothing left, he's still thirsty but he finds breathing a little easier without the dryness from before. "Thank you." He says again, to both the older boys. They stand at the same time, offering him nods in sync, he finds it both creepy and impressive, though he's not sure which one he feels more.
Daichi leads them away from the corner, away from orange and sour looks, he thinks they might be headed towards breakfast but Suga-san stops before they've reached the middle of the room. The older boy turns towards him, "Should we-?" Pale fingers gesture to their only sleeping teammate. Shouyou glances down at Yamaguchi again, cradling his pillow instead of using it, "He's going to be late to practice." He tries to justify, either option is difficult. Yamaguchi is a really cute sleeper, as much as he hates using that word. "Yeah, but-" He has a feeling that Suga-san was about to voice what he had just been thinking. "Five more minutes?" He tries, more for Suga-san's sake than Yamaguchi's, the setter's lips roll, mulling it over. "But he might miss breakfast, then." He nods, sinking to his knees and grabbing onto Yamaguchi's shoulder before Suga-san can object.
"Yamaguchi?" He tries, only to be met with soft snoring and the adjusting of a pillow, "Yamaguchi?" He half-whispers into messy hair, the taller boy whines pitifully and squirms away from him, he really wants to leave, to erase this moment from his memory forever and just let Yamaguchi sleep but Suga-san's eyes are firm when he looks up at him, a nod that he thinks is supposed to be reassuring makes him sigh loudly. "Yamaguchi!" He says, loud enough that it echoes off the walls for a brief second, the pinch server squirms, pillow abandoned now.
His sides are warm, hot even. Shouyou is jerking away from the heat before he can help himself, before his lungs start to empty. The room twitches between being light and dark, flashes of teeth, Grand King's teeth, he recognizes follow him as he twists back. "Shouyou?" Not-Grand King calls, bringing him back into what's real, letting him separate between then and now. "Shouyou?" Another voice asks, tired in a way that can only belong to Yamaguchi, "Are you okay- I-I didn't mean to-" The contact had been too sudden, too real and heavy, with hands pulling him into something. He's nodding, "Sorry, Yamaguchi- You uh, spooked me, I guess." His laugh is enough to make the taller boy cringe and he finds it too easy to close his mouth, settling for a small smile. Yamaguchi frowns in return, giving him a considerable look, he finds it odd when the taller boy had just been cuddling into a pillow and still has bedhead, "Sorry!" Yamaguchi squeaks finally before scuttling out of the room.
"Shouyou?" Suga-san asks, suddenly by his side and all too close. He swallows empty air, nodding while wiping sweat and fear off his face, "Sorry," He says without explanation, the older boy is nodding when he looks up at him, silver hair bouncing quietly. "Could have been worse, right?" He nods, thinking of everything that could have happened, piles of empty thoughts that make him feel stupid for reacting so harshly to just a grab from Yamaguchi. "Breakfast?" Suga-san says in the same tone their captain had used earlier. He nods again, letting the older boy lead him out of the room without further interruptions.
He's not sure if it's better or worse that he ends up taking the space next to Yamaguchi, he stares at the taller boy, who visibly squirms under his gaze and he thinks it might be one of the worst things that could have happened over breakfast. "I'm really sorry, Yamaguchi." He says when he's asked for the tray of wasabi next to his arm, the taller boy looks like he wants to say something, "About earlier, I mean." He says before Yamaguchi's lips even twitch, offering the tray with unsteady fingers. "It was my fault, I mean- I shouldn't have uh-" Yamguchi's entire face scrunches up, as if realizing that it wasn't completely his fault. "Why are you apologizing?" Someone not-Yamaguchi asks from the taller boy's direction, his spine bends out of curiosity before he can help it and finds the unimpressed eyebrows of Tsukishima for his troubles. "I scared Shouyou this morning." Yamaguchi explains, quiet enough that he thinks only a few of them might have heard, that the snickering from across the table was about something other than his disorder. "Not surprising." Tsukishima says, adjusting his glasses in a very Tsukishima way, the kind that sees through anyone with just a stare.
"Not... surprising?" Yamaguchi asks like he's been presented with a riddle, he watches Tsukishima's eyes land on him, a weird smirk spreads across the taller boy's face, "Shouyou's just a big chicken," There's teasing in the tone, even more embedded in the dim gold of Tsukishima's eyes that grows more visible as the taller boy leans towards him, "Aren't you?" He thinks there might be significance to Tsukishima's words, tell them, he thinks dully but can't quite grasp. He looks away first, letting Tsukishima stare at him because he can't tell anyone, not when Kenma is involved now. "Right." He mutters back, like acid and he really wishes he had broken Tsukishima's glasses when he had the chance.
Yamaguchi makes an odd noise around his chopsticks that reminds him that he too should be eating instead of being subject to the fact that Tsukishima knows. Not everything but enough, enough to torture him with that information. He looks down, at the table and at the bowl tucked in front of him, still steaming rice and what he thinks might be miso soup; after everything, he still can't quite bring himself to eat it, not until he grabs onto Suga-san for something, support, probably. The older boy gives him a look, something soft enough that he can't hate, even if he really wants to because he hates that look. "Sorry." He mumbles, carefully cradling his chopsticks in his non-dominant hand before plunging them into gooey white. He gives his brain enough time to register what it is his body is doing, enough time to make his hand stop before his throat threatens to clamp down. He takes another moment, reminding himself where he is, that home was too far away from Sato and Natsu and his mother. Tokyo. He mouths, leaving his lips parted to tuck his breakfast inside.
The rice burns but doesn't claw down his throat like he remembers it used to, doesn't set grit between his teeth, it goes down easily, nudging against the burning flesh of his throat but not causing it. Suga-san's thumb twists over his fingers, he's not quite sure why he isn't ready to let go, to drop those years off of his shoulders, Sato was his aunt now, not his caretaker and he knew why the rice was the way it was. Freak. Swallowing around nothing makes his fingers clench, hard enough that Suga-san leans towards him. "Shouyou?" That soft look intensifies and it takes more effort than it should to stop his fingers from crushing the older boy's. "Sorry." He says, more out of reflex, even if he does know why he is apologizing. "It's fine." Is the reply he gets but his attention is drawn to Kageyama across from him, staring at him again, "Uh-?" He tries when the taller boy's gaze gets even harder, "Kageyama?" He says when he can finally remember the name of his teammate instead of dragging himself away looks that held the same weight, looks that meant something. "Kageyama?" Suga-san asks, voiced pitched oddly, "Oh! Kageyama, good morning?" He watches Kageyama's eyes flick off of him, can feel the weight of that gaze gone.
"Good morning, Suga-san." The setter grits out, he's pretty sure that he can hear Suga-san's brain going blank while they both watch their teammate glare and mutter quietly to himself. "Uh," He says again, giving both of the setters curious looks, Suga-san finally looks down at him after his third rotation, a polite smile that radiates awkwardness greets him. "Suga-san?" He asks, feeling both terrified and amused, "I think Kageyama is having a rough morning." He's not quite sure what to make of that, if there's anything to make of anything from the older boy's words. He laughs, something awkward and unsure until Suga-san gives him an odd look, offering his hand again, palm up and still red from before. He wishes that he didn't have to take it, that the compulsion for comfort would just wither into nothingness. The urge doesn't leave when Suga-san's fingers are wrapped around his hand, only lessens the wrongness that won't go away.
Breakfast turns quiet while his hand is in Suga-san's, just chewing and muted conversations that he can't pick up through the thick haze of something that's clouding everything around him. He catches Kageyama staring at him and notices that Suga-san is staring at Kageyama, he tries his hardest not to notice, tries even harder to keep his hands from shaking harder. His bowl is only half empty when Suga-san stands but desperation makes him cling to the older boy, all the way to the gym with Kageyama on their trail. He's not sure what's different, they're teammates and Kageyama is prone to staring but it feels different. Heavy and unsettling like before they'd been introduced, only worse.
Practice passes with the same unease, Kageyama staring at him but he can excuse that, they're sharing a court and their quick is non-existent without the setter's awareness. He's pretty sure that the taller boy should be staring at the ball instead of him but that might just be Kageyama changing, adjusting his sets, that's what he'll settle for. His theory crumbles by the end of the day, when their quick fails too often and they end up losing every game. Their last penalty is to run up a hill. Fifty times. Again.
The all air is crisp and goes in like knives fluttering against his throat, chilled in the way that means they probably shouldn't be running up a hill fifty times, he's more surprised that it isn't raining, even if his fingers are numb by the time it's over. Bokuto-san and Akaashi-san are waiting by the gym doors when he barges through them, barely rolling out the way of his shivering teammates that collapse through the doorway. "Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto-san chirps while offering him water. He accepts it, finds the room temperature plastic to be a furnace on his unfeeling skin. "Cruel, isn't it?" The older boy asks a moment later following up with a loud laugh, fists on his sides like he's restraining himself from laughing even harder. Shouyou takes a step back when Akaashi-san does, "How many penalties has your team done? How many times have you been up that hill?" He's not even sure anymore and responds with a lazy shrug, Bokuto-san shrugs too, "Well, Future Ace-chan, you've got a long way to go if you're going to beat any of the teams here!" Something in Bokuto-san's tone is contradictory to the words being said, something almost inspiring, nearly the opposite of how his own captain gives speeches but equally as moving, maybe.
"Let's get a move on!" Strong fingers push against his scalp, attempting to lead him back into the cold. He stops walking and Bokuto-san's hand stops leading him, "I have to do- something." He explains lamely, offering something like a smile to the pouting boy beside him. "Something with Kenma-san?" Akaashi-san asks quietly, calculations working behind an overlay of barely blue irises. There's color in his cheeks that he blames on the cold, "Yes." He answers honestly. "I'll see you later?" He says because he can't think of anything else, Akaashi-san nods, wrapping long fingers around one of Bokuto-san's too big arms and leading the strangely haired boy away. "Bye bye, Shou-chan!" He hears from too far away. He smiles even when he doesn't feel like it, all the way to where the Nekoma team is staying.
He contemplates knocking and how many taps would be too formal but the door slides open before his fist can make contact with it. "Shrimpy-chan." The empty space says. He swallows and takes a step back, "Kuroo." He says more out of shock than greeting, he catches grim lines twisting into a smile. "Looking for Kenma?" The older boy asks, taking a step forward. He smells something from the older boy, he's not sure what it is but it makes him take another step back. "H-Yes... Yes." He splutters, taking yet another step back as the Nekoma captain steps forward.
"Well," Kuroo leers, taking another step forward and he's back there again, back in the dark with the older boy over him, gleaming teeth like a shark and chopper eyes that stare through him. "Kenma's a little busy right now." He's already forgotten why he's here and nods slowly, ready to run off but blunt hands push him back like they always do. "Let's talk about our deal, then I'll let you see Kenma, okay?" His body is shaking too hard that he doesn't notice his own nodding.
"Gonna be good, Shouyou-chan?"