Chapter Text
The hospital is freezing when Kiyoomi arrives.
They always are, no matter how many times he ends up in one, the first thing he always notices is the sharp cut of frozen artificial air blowing against him, causing him to hunch in on himself to try and conserve some body heat in an attempt to get the tiniest bit of warmth.
The second thing is the reason he’s here, the sedated body of Atsumu lying uncomfortably in a hospital bed, a feeding tube shoved down his throat and a slithering array of IV tubes hooked up to his arms.
The doctor told them that he was malnourished and dehydrated when he came in, that he likely hadn’t eaten in days prior to when Osamu and Kiyoomi found him.
Just the thought of that makes him feel sick, the nauseating drop that terrifying news always brings in the pit of your stomach.
It makes him fear what would have happened if they were too late, if they were only a day later in finding him.
What if they were too late, would he have starved to death? What if he was completely dehydrated? Would Kiyoomi be looking over the still corpse of his lover right now?
What if, what if, what if?
Osamu sits beside the bed, slumped over in an uncomfortable looking arm chair, the same one he’s been in since they arrived at the hospital hours ago.
They were told that once Atsumu was at a good level with his nutrition and hydration that they’d be conducting a psychological evaluation and deem if it’s necessary to have him admitted to their psychiatric facility.
According to Osamu, Atsumu had fought the nurses the entire time he rode in the ambulance, nearly hurting someone and needing to be sedated to keep himself from being a danger to others.
Kiyoomi shudders at the thought that Atsumu, his Atsumu, could even be seen as the kind of person who could hurt another. That someone so kind hearted and generous, someone who paid such close attention and care to those he loved could be deemed a threat.
He’s pulled out of his thoughts when a firm knock bangs against the door, neither of the rooms occupants being able to answer before someone’s pushing open the door.
“Hello,” She starts, an older woman who stands an entire head shorter than the two of them. “I’m here to take Miya-san off sedation and get him prepped for his evaluation. I’m very sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave so we can complete it.”
Osamu stands, wincing when he straightens up. “That’s okay, thank ya fer takin’ care of him. Do you know when we’ll be able ta see him again?”
“Depending on the results he might need to be admitted right after it’s over, so I wouldn’t go too far if you want to say goodbye before he’s in the facility. Once that happens you’ll be able to come during visitor hours to see him, which we’ll provide information on.”
“M’kay, thanks doc, we’ll stay outside the room, right Sakusa-san?”
Kiyoomi only nods, having long ago lost his voice. The two of them exit the room, the door swinging closed behind them like the final strike on the gavel that damns their futures.
They don’t go far, only to the small seating area nearby where Osamu goes back to trying to get comfortable enough to sleep and Kiyoomi stares ahead, trying to not let himself drown in his whirlpool of thoughts and close calls that could have happened tonight.
It’s a lot quicker than Kiyoomi expected when the doctor comes back out for them, giving a quick run down of what the process will be like going forward for his treatment and letting them back into the room.
Osamu walks up immediately to his brother’s side, hand coming up and grasping onto Atsumu’s own pale and trembling one.
“Tsumu,” He starts, moisture beginning to glisten in his eyes. “I don’t know how ta say this, but yer gonna be in the hospital fer a while, doc says yer a bit sick and need ta get better before ya can come home. But yer Omi-Omi and I will come visit ya every day, okay?”
Atsumu just lies there, staring ahead stubbornly as tears carve a steady path down his face. It breaks Kiyoomi’s heart, seeing him like this. Like he’s already resigned himself to his death and is just waiting on the executioner to bring down the blade.
Osamu squeezes the hand in his grip, holding onto his brother like a lifeline. “I love ya, do ya understand me? I would never, ever do somethin’ ta ya that would put ya in danger. Yer gonna get better and then come ta my place and spend the whole day makin’ the biggest dinner ever with me so we can share it with everyone. I’ll call down the team and Saksua-san will be there too. Ya just gotta get better, Tsumu.”
He slowly releases his hand, taking slow steps away from Atsumu’s bed like it physically pains him to do so. Kiyoomi’s willing to bet that it does.
The dark haired man stands there for a moment after Osamu exits the room, hesitating before walking over and reaching Atsumu’s side.
His boyfriend is pale and thin, far thinner than he should ever look. His hair’s growing out and greasy, probably since it’s been gods knows how long since he’s given enough thought to wash it.
Normally that would gross Kiyoomi out, the thought of someone not showering for long enough to let themselves get their hair this messed up, but this time all he feels is a dull stab against his chest, a desire to take everything Atsumu’s going through and carry the burden himself.
He leans forward and cards his fingers through knotted and greasy blonde strands, pushing them back enough to reveal his forehead. Slowly, as if to not startle him, Kiyoomi leans over and presses a chaste kiss against his forehead, lingering for a breath before pulling away.
“I love you, Atsumu. I swear I’ll be by to see you again the moment they let me, okay? I love you so much baby.”
—
They’re not able to see him for the first fourty-eight hours, the doctors on staff claiming Atsumu needed time to settle in and get used to the new routine they were going to put him on and ensure that he doesn’t have any negative reactions to the medication they start him on.
It’s chaos when it’s finally visiting day, nearly everyone they know wants to come by and visit to see how the blonde is doing and verify for themselves that he’s, not necessarily okay, but alive, that he’s trying.
Osamu and Kiyoomi have to fight off a lot of persistent teammates and friends before they’re able to go to the psychiatric facility that Atsumu was transferred to, not wanting to overwhelm him with too many visitors.
In the end it’s just those two who visit him that first week in the facility, not that there was much to do. Whatever medication they had him on made him very disoriented, Atsumu spending nearly the entire visit just trying to give them any bit of attention at all, instead of drifting off into his head like he spends so often doing.
The first week is hard, the hardest probably they either have experienced.
Kiyoomi still vividly remembers the first visit, how Osamu tried desperately to interact with Atsumu st all while his twin was hardly there, seeing like he was trapped within himself and unable to come forward and interact with them. Like he was a husk of his former self.
Osamu cried a lot after that, Kiyoomi knows. Even though he tried to keep his tears silent on the drive back, Kiyoomi still felt the desperation the other man felt, the need to have his brother back with him again.
Kiyoomi misses him too, misses Atsumu so desperately that it physically hurts him. But, unlike Osmau, Kiyoomi knows that Atsumu’s not going to be exactly the same again, that this was something he would have for the rest of his life.
On their second visit they were given permission to bring Atsumu a plush volleyball, a small little toy with a stitched on face with two dot eyes and a tiny smile.
Atsumu cries that day, holding the plush close to his chest and cradling it like it’s something precious to him.
The third visit he reacts to them when they ask him questions, nodding yes or no when asked but still not speaking.
It’s slow going the rest of the week and into the next, but finally on a random day with no significance to it, the two of them come to visit and find Atsumu setting the plush volleyball while he waits for them, immediately brightening when he spots them entering the visiting room.
“Samu, Omi!” He calls, waving at them and beaconing them to help him try and manage to get the plush volleyball to work somewhat close to a regular one.
They both act like it’s normal, that Atsumu’s back to something resembling himself, but in the car that afternoon they both break down into hysterics, holding onto each other and praying that it lasts, even for a day. That for just a bit Atsumu can be the man they both love so much.
Whatever they were doing with Atsumu, the medication, the therapy, whatever it was, he stayed stable for the remainder of his stay there.
Visits quickly turned into bitching sessions where Atsumu companed about anything and everything in the facility that he had to deal with.
“Can ya believe my roommate was watchin’ me sleep again? I know I’m here cause I’m crazy but at least I ain’t watchin’ ya when yer sleepin’. I asked ta be moved to a private room but they said my insurance wouldn’t cover it, which is bullshit, I pay all this money fer my fancy professional athlete insurance, the least they can get me is my own room.”
Kiyoomi goes to the desk after the visit ends and pays out of pocket to get Atsumu his own space and room to sleep in.
“The food here sucks, seriously tastes like cardboard! Samu I miss yer cookin’ so much, I would kill ta get a fatty tuna onigiri right now. But don’t tell my therapist I said I’d kill fer one, I don’t wanna be forced ta be here any longer than I need ta so I can get better.”
Osamu calls the hospital and sets up a partnership with them so he can cater for the psychological facility, bringing massive amounts of onigiri to cook in the kitchen with the hospital staff and serve out to the residents on the facility’s floor.
The only thing they can’t help him with is his constant complaints that everything is baby proofed in the facility, from the crayons to the chairs, even the chopsticks they serve meals with.
“Seriously, it’s like a kindergarten in here sometimes with how baby proofed everythin’ is. Makes me miss the smaller things, ya know? Like bein’ able to write with a damn pen.”
It’s not until nearly the end of his stay that he finally sits the two of them down and explains what happened, that he received a new diagnosis and something he will have to regulate for the rest of his life.
“They said I got schizophrenia, the paranoid kind. I’ve been on meds fer the entire time I’ve been here and I think they finally got me on some that work pretty well. I ain’t gonna lie, I really didn’t wanna work with everyone here when I first arrived, I didn’t wanna admit anything was wrong with me. But, I really wanted ta get out and see the two of ya again, ta see my friends and play volleyball, so I started listenin’ actually participatin’ in therapy and shit. I guess what I want ta say is I do wanna get better, I wanna stay better and make sure I don’t get this bad again.”
He’s released two days later into the care of his brother, moving back to Hyogo for a few weeks before coming back to Osaka for the upcoming volleyball season.
While they never really talked about it, it goes without saying that Atsumu would be moving in with Kiyoomi, mostly for his own sake of mind to have him close by.
Kiyoomi doesn’t bother to get a separate room set up, knowing the blonde will find his way into his bed eventually anyways.
Atsumu laughs when he tells him, trying to make a joke out of the situation. “Haha, Omi ya dog, ain’t ya supposed ta do a few more steps before ya try and get me ta move in?”
“No, it’s fine. I want you here, with me.” He replies.
“Huh? Wait, but ain’t this goin’ a little too fast? Ya sure ya wanna stick with me after all this?”
Kiyoomi moves towards Atsumu, taking his hands in his own and pulling him close, forehead coming to rest against his so they can breathe in the same air.
“Atsumu, I love you.”
“Yeah, but ya gotta know how hard it’s gonna be, right? Ta love me I mean. I understand if that’s too much ta ask of ya”
“It’s not too much.” Kiyoomi insists. “It doesn’t matter at all to me, you’re still the same Atsumu I fell in love with and keep falling in love with day after day. I will always fight to keep you close to me, it doesn’t matter if you have a new diagnosis, my love for you isn’t conditional. I’ll tell you as many times as you need for you to understand just how much I love you.”
Hot tears stream down Atsumu’s face, his breath hitching as he fights to not sob in Kiyoomi’s face.
“Ya know Omi, that’s the first time ya said ya love me.” Atsumu cries.
“That’s what you took from that?” He questions, watching him attempt to stop his tears.
Atsumu lets out a laugh, pressing his forehead more insistently against Kitoomi’s own. “I love ya too, by the way.”
“I know."
“And I’ll do my best ta stay on my medication and in therapy. I’ll stay better fer ya Omi.”
“Atsumu, I don’t want you to stay better for me, I want you to be okay for you.”
“Well that too, duh. How else would I win the number one setter spot in the country if I don’t stay better fer myself?”
The two of them laugh, Kiyoomi coming in for a quick press of their lips before separating and helping Atsumu with the bags he brought along.
And while they both don’t know what the future will hold, they know that they’ll be able to make it through, together.