Chapter Text
The sound upstairs wasn’t something falling.
It was worse.
Way worse.
By the time they reached Rin’s room, Itoshi Rin was hunched forward on the floor beside his bed, one hand clutching weakly at his chest while the other shook violently against the carpet.
He couldn’t breathe properly.
Sharp, uneven gasps kept catching in his throat.
The wheezing sound filling the room was awful.
Immediate panic.
Their mother dropped beside him instantly.
“Rin—”
His inhaler had fallen nearby.
Sae grabbed it first.
For a split second he froze.
Then shoved it toward him quickly.
“Take it.”
Rin’s fingers trembled too badly to hold it right.
Their mother took over immediately, pressing the inhaler properly into his shaking hands.
“Come on, baby, breathe…”
Her voice was trembling now too.
Rin’s shoulders shook hard as he tried pulling air into lungs that wouldn’t cooperate.
Panic made it worse.
Always worse.
His eyes were wet again, frustrated tears slipping down his face while he fought just to breathe normally.
“Slowly,” their father said firmly beside them. “Slow breaths.”
Rin tried.
God, he tried.
But every inhale sounded strained.
Tight.
Painful.
Their mother pressed another puff into the inhaler.
“Again.”
A pause.
Then another.
“Good—good—there you go…”
Eventually the wheezing eased slightly.
Not gone.
Just manageable.
Enough for Rin to finally drag in one full breath without choking on it.
The room stayed silent except for his uneven breathing afterward.
Their mother was crying quietly now from pure stress.
Her hands still shook while she brushed damp hair away from Rin’s forehead.
“It’s okay…”
Rin leaned weakly against the bed frame, exhausted beyond words.
Then his eyes shifted.
Toward Sae.
And—
he flinched.
Small movement.
Barely noticeable.
But enough.
Enough to make Sae freeze completely.
Rin looked away immediately afterward.
Like he regretted reacting at all.
That hurt worse than yelling would’ve.
The clock beside the bed read 9:03 PM.
Too late.
Too exhausting.
Everything felt frayed thin.
Their mother continued stroking Rin’s hair gently while his breathing slowly evened out again.
Eventually exhaustion won.
Rin fell asleep sitting partly against her shoulder, completely drained after the attack.
Their father carefully lifted him back onto the bed.
Too light.
Still too light.
Blankets tucked around him.
Lights dimmed.
Then quietly—
the three of them went downstairs.
The house felt hollow now.
No television.
No music.
Just quiet conversation in the kitchen while rain continued outside.
Sae sat at the table silently while his parents talked in low voices.
At first they defended Rin.
Of course they did.
But exhaustion changes people.
Fear changes people more.
And tonight had been terrifying.
Their mother rubbed tiredly at her eyes.
“…His body’s getting weaker.”
The words sounded guilty leaving her mouth.
Their father stayed silent for a moment before answering quietly:
“I know.”
Another pause.
“He can’t keep collapsing like this.”
Sae stared down at the table.
Rain tapped steadily against the windows.
Their mother’s voice cracked slightly.
“…Soccer’s destroying him.”
Silence.
Then finally—
the words Sae never expected to hear from them.
“We might need to pull him out.”
Sae looked up immediately.
Their father leaned back heavily in his chair.
“He can’t handle this physically anymore.”
The room felt colder somehow.
Upstairs, a floorboard creaked faintly.
None of them noticed.
Their mother exhaled shakily.
“It’s been three years…”
A pause.
“Three years of hospitals. Seizures. Fevers. Asthma attacks…”
Her eyes lowered.
“…I’m scared we’re losing him slowly.”
Outside the kitchen doorway—
Rin stood frozen.
Barefoot.
Silent.
He’d woken up thirsty.
That was all.
Just thirsty.
And now he couldn’t move.
He can’t handle this physically anymore.
We might need to pull him out.
Soccer’s destroying him.
The words echoed violently in his chest.
Three years.
Three years of trying.
Three years of forcing himself through practices, medications, recovery, pretending he could still keep up.
And now even they thought he couldn’t do it anymore.
Rin’s hands started trembling harder.
Not from anemia this time.
His breathing felt uneven again.
His chest tight.
No.
No no no—
His mother sighed quietly downstairs.
“I’ll go check on Rin.”
She stood up slowly and walked toward the living room doorway.
Then froze.
Because Rin was already there.
Standing motionless in the dark hallway.
Pale.
Eyes red.
Expression completely shattered.
And somehow—
that was worse than crying.
Their mother froze completely.
The color drained from her face.
“…Rin?”
The way he looked at her didn’t even feel real.
Like something inside him had finally snapped under years of pressure.
The hallway light cast pale shadows across Itoshi Rin’s face, making the dark circles under his eyes look even deeper.
For one horrible second—
nobody moved.
Then Rin turned suddenly.
Like he needed to escape before he broke apart completely.
“Rin—wait—”
He tried running upstairs.
But his legs were still weak.
Too weak.
His foot caught awkwardly against one of the loose floorboards near the stairs—
And he fell hard.
The sound made everyone flinch.
A sharp crack followed immediately after.
“…Ah—!”
Rin hissed sharply in pain.
A splintered edge from the broken board had sliced across his forearm during the fall.
Not deep.
But enough.
Blood streaked quickly down pale skin.
Their mother rushed toward him instantly.
“Rin!”
The second she touched him—
he shoved her away.
Hard enough to make her stumble back.
That shocked everyone more than the yelling.
Because Rin never pushed her away.
Ever.
His breathing turned ragged immediately.
“You don’t care!”
His voice cracked violently.
Tears streamed down his face again before he could stop them.
“I knew it—”
Another shaky breath.
“I knew all along you were tired of this!”
Their mother stared at him in horror.
“Sweetheart, no—”
“I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS!”
The scream ripped straight out of him.
Years of exhaustion buried underneath it.
Fear.
Humiliation.
Pain.
Everything at once.
“I DIDN’T ASK TO BE LIKE THIS!”
His whole body shook now.
Not seizure.
Just emotional collapse.
Sae stood frozen near the kitchen doorway, eyes widened slightly for once.
Because he’d never seen Rin break like this before.
Never.
Rin’s eyes snapped toward his mother again.
And suddenly the words became cruel.
Desperate people always became cruel eventually.
“IT’S YOUR FAULT!”
Silence crashed into the house.
Their mother stopped breathing for a second.
Rin’s voice trembled horribly.
“You have low iron too!”
Another broken inhale.
“Yours isn’t even that bad but I got it because of you!”
His mother’s face shattered instantly.
“You’re the reason I’m like this!”
The second those words left his mouth—
Rin froze.
Like even he couldn’t believe he said them.
Their mother looked devastated.
Actually devastated.
“…Rin?”
Tears filled her eyes immediately.
And that expression—
that hurt worse than anything else tonight.
Their father moved before anyone else could react.
The slap echoed through the hallway sharply.
Rin’s head snapped sideways from the force.
Silence.
Heavy.
Awful silence.
Their father stood there breathing hard.
“Don’t you ever speak to her like that.”
Rin stared at the floor silently.
Too shocked to even react.
Then came the sentence nobody should’ve said.
Not tonight.
Not like this.
Their father looked away first before speaking quietly.
“…Maybe Sae’s right.”
Their mother immediately looked at him in disbelief.
But he continued anyway.
Voice tired.
Worn down.
“You should quit soccer.”
Rin stopped moving completely.
Like even breathing paused.
“All you’re doing now…”
A long pause.
“…is making this family miserable.”
The words hit harder than the slap did.
Much harder.
Because this time—
it wasn’t Sae saying it.
It was Dad.
Rin’s expression emptied instantly.
No anger.
No yelling.
Nothing.
That was worse.
Way worse.
The blood from his arm dripped slowly onto the wooden floor.
Nobody moved.
Sae felt sick suddenly.
Actually sick.
Because he watched it happen in real time—
watched something inside Rin just quietly collapse.
Rin slowly stood up.
Unsteady.
Silent.
Their mother reached toward him desperately.
“Rin, he didn’t mean—”
Rin stepped back immediately.
Away from all of them.
His voice came out frighteningly calm.
“…Okay.”
That one word terrified Sae more than all the screaming earlier.
Because Rin wasn’t fighting anymore.
And Rin always fought.
Always.
But now he just looked exhausted.
Done.
He wiped harshly at his face with his sleeve, smearing blood slightly across the fabric without noticing.
Then quietly said:
“I get it.”
No one knew what to say to that.
Rin looked at none of them as he walked upstairs slowly.
Not limping.
Not rushing.
Just—
gone.
His bedroom door closed softly.
And somehow that soft click felt louder than all the yelling before it.
Downstairs, the house sat in stunned silence.
Their mother started crying fully now.
Their father looked horrified with himself.
And Sae—
Sae stared at the staircase with a tight feeling in his chest he couldn’t name.
Because for the first time since coming back from Spain—
he thought maybe they’d finally pushed Rin too far.