Chapter Text
Okay, Kei. You got this. Just go talk to them like a normal human being. You totally are going to be just fine. Even though your best friend is kinda-sorta dying—accept not really—you can do this.
“Tsukishima-kun. What’s up? You look like you were out...running?” Sugawara smiled at his own joke, and Daichi cast him a sidelong glance, reminding him to actually act seriously. Anyway, his habit of laughing at his own (bad) jokes died super hard. Encouragement to keep in his completely adorable giggle was all he could do for his boyfriend at that point.
“I wasn’t, Suga-san. Yamaguchi’s not feeling well and it’s not going well. I’m not sure what to do,” Tsukki fixed his glasses uncomfortably and stilled his flipping stomach and beating heart. Why was he so nervous?
He couldn’t even answer that. Part of it was the fact that Yamaguchi never got sick. When he did, it usually wasn’t too bad, sure, but honestly, what the heck. Seriously. What. The. Heck.
What the hell, actually. Why at a time like this? Exams were barreling towards them, volleyball season and tournaments rapidly approached, Yamaguchi had pushed himself to the limits to get to where he wanted to be; Tsukishima watched it with his own eyes. He waited for him into all hours of the night, patiently awaiting his final serve.
Pitched over with his hands on his knees, a fire ignited in his eyes and pulsed through his veins. He tried for a time. To serve all the balls in the cart to the exact same spot in twenty seconds. The odds were nearly impossible, as he’d have to serve about one a second.
He tried anyway. Since Kageyama and Hinata demanded the court late into the evening, Yama’d wait until they finished, and then he’d take his chances to practice for as long as his body would permit.
But, again, why now? Why was he so ill so quickly? It made Tsukishima's skin prickle. Why Tadashi rather than himself? What’s up with that? If he got sick, it wouldn’t make much difference to him.
Tsukishima found it peculiar. When did the switch just flip? Why was Yama’ all the sudden ready to barrel through every single thing in his path to get a chance to go into another game and win a few points?
But, just a few? They were just a few points. Why did it matter that much? They needed at least twenty-five to win the match. If he messed up his serves, Karasuno would still have a chance to succeed regardless. There was no other member on the team who could compete with his jump floater anyway, so why try so hard?
He admired Tadashi’s determination and hard work for sure. It was cool to see his timid friend flourish into something else. Something more...formidable. He became stronger. Wiser. More adept to the pressures of the game of volleyball. Yeah, still didn’t get it, but admired it anyway.
Tsukishimas’s height got him places and to some extent, he worked in practice. Shouldn’t that be enough for him? Apparently, it wasn’t to Tadashi, as expressed during the training camp when he ran him down and screamed in his face and grabbed his shirt and went on about some pride or something.
Again, couldn’t quite grasp the concept, but apparently it wasn’t just Tadashi. Trying hard was kind of a Crow thing. Wasn’t a Tsukishima thing; however, he was a Crow.
Meaning he had to live up to some stupid standard? Sounds utterly stupid.
“Okay, just relax. Where is he?” Sugawara’s switch flipped, too.
Mother-Crow mode: activated.
“Well—” Daichi began, and his eyes shot just over Tsukishima’s shoulder. A figure hazily and absentmindedly stumbled from behind the blonde, carrying two bags, out of breath for some odd reason. His eyes looked shot, clouded with fever—and, most likely confusion—and searched around frantically. Everything around the green-haired first-year hovered in a foggy smog.
Yamaguchi really didn’t know where he was. He did, but he didn’t. Glazed eyes met white floors and a case holding some trophies. To the left, bathroom entrances loomed, and ahead: three figures seeming to sport the same jacket he had on.
School. Right. That was the back of Tsukishima’s head and in front of him: Suga and Daichi. Oh, now they’re staring, he noted and willed his heavy legs to slide towards them. They both stubbornly clung to the ground, but he’d still make it to them.
“Tadashi-kun, I told you—” Tsukki began, hurrying towards him.
“I know, but I found you now,” He answered, sheepishly smiling. Totally unrelated, but alright.
“Found him, Suga-chan,” Daichi said, and earned a sharp elbow, “Hey!”
“Hey, Yamaguchi,” Suga said comfortingly, a hand instinctively shooting up to feel his forehead and then card once through the first year’s hair. Regarding the clearing hallways or people who walked by, he really didn’t find much care in their stares or giggles. People would be people and there was nothing he could do about them.
“He’s burning up, isn’t he?” Tsukki said, helping his friend to stand up fully. Hating how stupid his tone sounded, caring so much.
“He feels rather warm, yeah,” He put on a smile to keep Yamaguchi calm and to steel his own nerves. In truth, to him, Tadashi really didn’t feel like he was going to die (anytime soon, anyway) but certainly didn’t look so good. A light cough escaped the smaller boy’s frame, shaking his shoulders a bit. “How are you feeling? Do you feel like you can make it through the rest of the day?”
No answer, as Yamaguchi’s attention remained fixed on a small black bug that made its way across the floor. Suga shifted uncomfortably and Daichi resisted a laugh. It wasn’t the first time their official pinch server got distracted so easily.
Eventually, even though his brain wasn’t quite functioning at its highest capacity, Yamaguchi got uncomfortable at their looming and looked up to meet the silver-haired third years’ eyes. Was he talking to me a second ago?
“Tadashi-kun. Do you think you can make it through the rest of the day?” His voice did not resonate impatience.
“Yeah, I think so,” He coughed again, this time a bit more powerfully, “I’ll be fine.”
“You can barely walk, though,” Daichi, now fading into dad-mode, also interjected, gracing Suga’s shoulder lightly. Backing him up.
“Are your parents home? Can they come pick you up?” Suga asked.
“You are definitely not practicing today,” Daichi and Tsukishima simultaneously said, the same edge to their voices. Both stiffened and averted eye contact.
Shoot, Tsukki thought, I’m turning into Daichi. I think I’d rather die.
He—or rather, both of them—were right. Even though he could barely stand up straight, without a doubt he’d still attempt to train. That: not an option. A repeat of...oh, the countless amounts of times players would run themselves into the ground even when they felt sick for the umpteenth time. Yeah, not an option either.
Regardless, if the slight suspicion Daichi found with the amount of time some players were staying after was anything to go by (in which he had restrained himself from acting upon), sooner or later action was inevitable. As if a better, more obvious sign needed giving, if this was any indication, he needed to do something more and way earlier.
“They’re off on business. They left this morning and won’t be back until Tuesday.”
Well, great.
Three whole days out. That kinda, sorta, maybe complicated things.
“You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you’re joking,” Tsukishima’s anger rose. The hallways finally clear, class already started. “You mean to tell me all you did was ask for accompaniment home but didn’t tell me you’d be left alone all weekend?”
Still, in a daze, “Well, yeah, I didn’t want to bother you! I just needed a way to get home and someone to sit with on the train because going home—” He broke into another fit, fighting to keep his balance as he coughed into his corner. Shaking his head to clear it, “— to an empty house makes me nervous.”
“You can’t just stay home alone for three days,” Suga interjected, diffusing the situation.
“I won’t,” He wheezed uncomfortably, “I’ll still be at school.”
“Okay, no, this isn’t gonna work. I’m going to the office to have them call his parents to excuse him,” Suga said definitely. Mindset, he turned and strode off. On a mission, there was no stopping him. Even Daichi knew that when his mind was set, there was no hindering. He smiled after the silver-haired boy and followed closely behind.
Honestly, it was impossible for him to fall more in love.
“Can you walk there without help?” Tsukishima asked, taking the bags while still acting as a brace. “Wait, don’t answer that. That’s a dumb question.”
They made their way to the office to discover Sugawara, true to his word, on the phone. Two oceans of emotion bored into both of them when they made their way inside, but his face remained calm.
It...wasn’t the first time he had to make calls for teammates who’d, of course without fail, showed up to school with some sort of illness or had caught themselves one during the day. It wouldn’t be the last, as calling for minor injuries he wanted to be checked out, even if the teammates he was calling on behalf of refused to, became more frequent than not.
Of course in lieu of the coaches, who often didn’t notice or didn’t hear of. In the locker room, it wasn’t ever a shock to find someone hiding something that was BLEEDING during practice. Good thing for his first-aid kit.
What was he, the mother-crow, going to do with all of the children, huh?
Tsukishima, who was basically dragging Yamaguchi at that point, set him down in the infirmary room, secluding him from the embarrassing and prying eyes. Dai and Suga stood outside, using the weird coil-phone. The other office workers went on with their days like this was an everyday occurrence.
The sick boy laid his head on Tsukki’s shoulder, prompting a stiffen. Yamaguchi snorted, prompting a few productive coughs. He suddenly jumped up, Tsukki with him, and walked over to the sink. Spitting and then rinsing his mouth, the familiar pound in his head knocking again.
Not particularly good with those types of situations, the middle-blocker just rubbed in between shoulder blades until the other’s hands were dried off and they were back to sitting with the head on the shoulder. Longer green locks tickled his face and drove him completely bonkers.
Was he about to tell him to sit up? Absolutely not.
The head fell more dead-weight a few minutes later, and his weirdly wheezy breathing evened slightly. Is he asleep? Tsukishima looked up from his daze, fixed his glasses with the opposite hand, and smiled gently. At least he’s resting.
Sugawara poked his head in, jolting Kei from his own daze, and Tadashi woke with a start, “I’m so sorry for scaring you. Um, he’s checked out for the rest of the day and they’ve written you a note, but you need to get to class. Permission has been given to allow him to stay here for the remainder of the day as long as he wears a mask.”
He wasn’t quite sure he was okay with leaving Tadashi in here for the rest of the day and during practice, but that solution seemed to be the best. Correspondingly, the school was already being lenient, so pushing the boundaries to also be allowed to stay might be overstepping.
A nod and he took to his feet: “Rest. Try to drink some water,” Overwhelmed, he left hurriedly, terrifying feelings in light of being forced to leave abandoned him near-speechless. Sure, he’d be back, but really? That’s all you’re gonna say?
“Take care of yourself,” Sugawara grabbed his hand and squeezed it, then left the mask in his wake. He and Daichi left for class.
***
The next few hours came and passed, as the clock on the wall remained broken, hour hand confined to the premise of the number nine. Time wasn’t real for him anyway, as he floated in and out of wakefulness.
He wished Tsukishima would come back. Give a hug or warm shoulder to lay on or something. Nothing occupied the room he waited in beside a counter, a mini-fridge where they kept ice packs—and most of the time, it was the volleyball team who needed them most—a few cabinets and a bathroom. He was thankful for that last one because the water an office worker had come to give him a while back was threatening to return to the surface.
Sometime after losing track of the minutes going by, as he was counting, he dozed again, laying his clammy head back on the wall. Wishing for a bed, wanting to feel better, willing his body to stop sweating and hurting and coughing so much; clamoring for any type of support, he groped in the hazy light that beheld him. Reaching for anything that could help him.
To no avail. Nothing took them. Sugawara did not take his hands back or give them a gentle squeeze. No one was there to ease his pain with a hair-ruffle or head-pat.
Someone, please help. Help.
He’d never felt this bad. This was the weirdest, most wild feeling his immune system had ever mustered before. Shaky breaths wheezed from his mouth, his chest cavity aching despite the fact he hadn’t even practiced that day. Fever electrified chills through his bones, even jolting him awake from the slight dozes.
Getting all worked up would work opposite of his goal, but that’s all that came to mind. Especially after his venture to inhale deeply to calm his nerves, and ended a fit of coughs that led to a beautiful loss of all he had in his stomach into the nearby garbage.
Each time someone walked by or shoes sounded relatively as if they were making their way in his direction, he looked up over towards the entrance. But, no one ever came in. Every time he’d wake up, he would repeat the process of waiting until he heard footsteps, and get excited that someone was coming.
They didn’t, though.
Hot tears found his warm face and tracked clean streaks in the clammy nature of itself. Then, the itchy canvas covering his mouth and nose would absorb them. He rubbed them away to no avail. Weak, he told himself, powerless. But, honestly, he was too weak to think, much less call himself names.
Just wanted to go home.
Just wanna feel better.
Already want this to be over.
Later, Tsukishima jumped high again, blocking the ball right back in the enemy’s face, which in that case, was Tanaka. The sting on his forearm was a painful reminder of the deed he had done, and he smirked maniacally at the second-year who grumbled angrily about ‘that ugly smug he hated so much’.
Smirking was the only bluff he had left. Worry bubbled in his stomach like anxiety could have some sort of grip on him. Pathetic. Good gosh, Kei, pull yourself together. He’s just a friend.
Yamaguchi’s fine. Yamaguchi’s fine. He’s fine. He’ll be fine. He’s resting. He’s strong.
Only two of those things were most likely right, and one of them he was positive of. Sugawara watched like a hawk, taking note of everything. Never missing a beat, he stepped off of the court, after Noya received with a Rolling Thunder, there was no doubt he and Tanaka were going to take up at least thirty seconds worth of celebration. His opening.
“Takeda-sensei,” He bowed.
“Sugawara-kun?” He responded, surprised. Ukai turned his head, arms crossed. “Is there something the matter?”
“Well, sort of. Can you do me a favor? I know this is really random but I think it needs to be taken care of.”
“Anything you need, I will try my best!”
“Can you allow Tsukishima-kun to leave practice early and drive him and Yamaguchi-kun home today? Tsukishima’s not looking as if he’s at his best when he’s all worried and stuff. Uh, and when I went to check on Tadashi-kun before practice, he didn’t look great,” He paused awkwardly, knowing how stupid it must sound for him to be bargaining to allow their tallest player to leave, “I just have a bad feeling and know Yamaguchi-kun needs to go home soon so he can rest.”
“You mean he’s still here? In the infirmary?”
“Yes, and—”
“Tsukishima, get your things and slip on a jacket. You’re leaving with Takeda-sensei,” Ukai boomed, turning every head in the direction of him and then at Tsukishima, who stiffened at the stares. “I trust you Sugawara-kun. Do not make this an often-time thing.”
“Of-course, Ukai-san,” He bowed and jogged back onto the court, willing the match to begin once again. He contemplated changing the matchup to accommodate the fact they were down in numbers, but despite that deficit, the other team insisted they’d be fine.
Tsukishima did what was asked of him and followed Takeda out of the gym, wondering how Sugawara convinced them to allow this.
“Sugawara-kun seemed very worried. Is Yamaguchi-kun alright?”
“I’m not sure, I haven’t seen him since after lunch today,” He said quietly, hands deep in his pockets, shivering. Not quite positive if that was from the brisk breeze or nervousness pooling in his churning stomach.
Takeda nodded, not wishing to say more, as that could prompt unwelcome awkwardness he was new to. They made their way, Takeda attempting to keep up with the tall boy’s stride until the office was in sight.
Tadashi, who was passed out in the chair, cracked his eyes open to that same sound: seeming rushed footsteps, towards the office. Not sure why he was trying anymore, slipped his eyes back closed to ease the raging pain in his chest.
“Tadashi-kun. We’re here now,” Takeda said, putting a light hand on his shoulder. Eyes shooting open like a crackhead after a hit, he nearly jumped and hugged him. If the strength he had willed him to, he would’ve. “How are you feeling?”
Tears started again. Where were they coming from? He had no water to cry left. He felt horrible but was unable to convey it any other way except through tears.
He moved his hair off of his sweaty forehead and felt it, stiffening slightly at the heat, “Alright, alright, relax, It’s okay,” Takeda also took note of the wheezy breaths he continued to inhale, but the crying was probably causing that. “We’re going to get you home, now, so you can get to feeling better. How does that sound?”
Tadashi just kept crying because he really didn’t know what else to do. His ears were roaring and even felt hot. It was hard to hear, hard to see, hard to move, hard to think.
A big, firm hand gripped his forearm and the blonde: god-giftingly unmistakeable. Tsukishima was trying to comfort him? Again? “Relax. Can you stand?”
Takeda slung the sick pinch-server’s bag and waited outside of the room, giving him a chance to calm in Tsukishima’s presence, knowing they were close.
Yamaguchi shook his head slightly.
“Alright, I’ll help you. No problem. Give me,” He paused, his face heating, “Give me your hands.” He held them out for the taking. Yamaguchi took them with no hesitation and was helped to his feet. He swayed on stiff joints, but Tsukki held him steady without fail.
Getting to the car was quite an adventure. Mid-way through, he ended up just picking him up, cringing at how...easy that was for the bean-pole (As Nishinoya and Tanaka called him) he was. That shouldn’t have been that easy and that fact was no indication of his individual strength.
Perhaps only, maybe, just a bit. But only a bit.
The rest was undoubtedly brought upon by his lightweight. Tsukki would undoubtedly get Sugawara to scold him on not eating if that was the case. It wasn’t like he ate that much himself, but he ate enough to keep his strength up and to keep from getting SICK.
The fact that Tadashi did not protest rang alarm bells from all directions. What the heck is wrong. Something probably bad, that’s for sure.
He slid Tadashi into the back stead as best he could, buckling him in, and then went around to the other side to sit next to him.
“Please take us both to Yama-kun’s home, sensei.”
He nodded and did as directed after absorbing the address and following it the best he could. The turns, he kept as smooth as possible, as Yamaguchi rested his head on the window hopefully asleep. Previously, it was the first time he had ever seen Yamaguchi cry...and he never wanted to see it ever again. Not even when he served had he seemed that distressed, and the teacher did not like the way he looked.
“Is this the right house?”
“Yes,” was all he said before he was out and around the car to the other side, opening it gently so as to not startle him. He sat up, cracking his eyes open again. Thinking better of it, he closed the door and grabbed their bags and unlocked the house door. Then, he returned to thank Takeda and carry Tadashi the rest of the way inside.
Lightly placing the extremely warm Yama’ on the couch in the main room, he wrestled both of their shoes off and tossed them by the door. Padding to the medicine drawer in the bathroom, he called the only person he knew of who probably wasn’t too busy to pick up. “Hey, mom.”
She helped him pick the medicines he needed to administer based on the symptoms he relayed back to her. He thanked her and hung up rather quickly. Locating a glass of water, he brought them and helped the other swallow them. Remembering the other thing his mom told him, he walked into the kitchen and found a granola bar.
Geez, he looked so out of it, “You need to eat this so your stomach will settle. I just gave you a whole lot of medicines, Tadashi-kun.”
“Can’t,” Did this weak voice actually belong to his best friend? Something definitely isn’t right.
“You have to. Eat half of it.”
So, he did...kind of. A quarter of it was all he could muster through the coughs and shivers and lightheadedness, and even then he felt like he was going to lose that little bit, too. He laid down on the couch and willed his body to relax.
Something flitted and then settled overtop of him. A soft fabric he recognized as his favorite blanket rested on top of him, stilling a chill in its tracks. A stuffed animal, to be precise: a stuffed koala Tadashi named Carlos, was tucked underneath the blanket with him, and he hugged it close to his heart.
A lukewarm cloth settled on his forehead next, and an awkward hand carded through his hair a few times.
“Thank you, Tsukki-chan.”
Voice: scarce. Nearly undetectable.
“Of course, Yama-chan.”