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Since he was born, Sakusa Kiyoomi never had a perfect physical condition. Well, generally, everybody doesn’t.
Both of his parents were doctors. They knew, the moment Sakusa was born, they knew their one and only son was not alright. Having been born by a mother, who acquired leukemia, they both knew their son must have carried some of this burden into his feeble body. It might not have shown right when he was born, but it would someday. His parents already predicted about this, very much.
His mother's pregnancy state was never smooth. Physical, psychological and emotionally unstable were like daily meals. And of course, a hunk of guilt of being pregnant with leukemia, and the fear of her child that will be born carrying all of the burden she had.
His dad loves his mother and his baby. This was their first child, and maybe the last. More than hundred times being yelled at by his hysteric pregnant wife having breakdown in the early afternoon was a custom for him. But he still loved her, told her it's alright. “You’ve done well protecting our son inside your belly.” “Please do your best in giving birth”, was a daily phrase.
Sakusa was born quite early, at the weeks of 32. That was the obstetrics and gynecologist recommended about giving a birth while having leukemia should be carried. The day Sakusa was born, his mother passed away from massive hemorrhage.
His dad raised Sakusa with enough love. Even not nearly enough than raising a child with his mother. This left Sakusa a loner, as he grew older. He didn't have a mother. His dad was busy, he only gave him enough money to live on his own.
He was introduced to volleyball. He loved it. That sport is beautiful, in his eyes. Where we try to keep the ball not touching the ground, how we struggle to jump and hit the ball in the mid-air, how the flow of the game is carried. Just like his life, he was struggling to keep his life not touching the brink of despair, he was struggling to heighten his condition as he hated it when someone calls him sickly pitiful boy, and he was struggling to find the meaning of life.
Life was cruel, to him. And he hated it when someone calls him pitiful. What makes me pitiful? I'm not sick, yet. It's just his dad was taking extra precaution because of the genetics he had. Oh, how Sakusa could feel an underlying love from his parent, but not quite happy with it. His dad made sure he always cleans his hands well, told him about universal precaution, told him about germs, viruses, and bacteria, as he grew to hate them. Because his dad told him so.
He started playing volleyball at the age of 12. His dad knew about it, but as if he turned his back on his son already, tired of being tired, he just let his son enjoy his life in his own way, as he thought maybe it's the best for his son too. At the age of 17, he became the best ace in Japan. True enough, his condition got better. He’d even get invited to All-Japan Youth Training Camp.
He met Miya Atsumu, best setter in interhigh. Number one setter in high school, they said.
They started their relationship by bickering on who gets to use the bathroom first. Atsumu slap his hands as he tried to get into the bathroom first. Sakusa gave in, as he rubbed his hand with hand sanitizer.
The next day, he noticed something was wrong with his hand. A bruise showed, from the spot where Atsumu slapped him. As he tried to spike a ball, his fingertips were bleeding. He didn’t pay much attention, just put band-aids on and continued playing. He felt tired easily, but still paid no mind, maybe the training was extra hard that day. That night, he woke up, bathed in cold sweat. He knew this wasn't right anymore, but he was still breathing so it's okay, he thinks.
The next day, Miya Atsumu talked to him.
“Hey Omi-Omi, I always wondered,” He had his smug smile, “have ya got a girlfriend already? I gotta said ya have a pretty face,”
Kiyoomi was surprised, “Ew,”
“Hey! I was praising ya!” Atsumu pouted, “have ya meet yer soulmate yet?”
“I'm not, and I'm not planning to,”
“Aww c'mon, I see ya don’t have mole in yer face, maybe yer soulmate didn’t want to kiss ya,” Atsumu smirked, Sakusa paid no mind.
“I don’t need kisses, they are gross,”
“Omi-kun ya just haven't tried it yet! Surely yer mom kissed you goodnight?”
Sharp pang of pain hits Sakusa as he answered, “Never,”
“..Oh,” Atsumu caught this, tried to clear the gloomy atmosphere, “Um…your dad then?” He even dropped his dialect.
“Never, and do not bring this topic to my face, you are annoying as hell, go train or something if you have time to prick into someone’s life,” Sakusa declared as he gave Atsumu a cold stare, and left him dumbfounded.
“Excuse me,” Atsumu was surprised by someone, he recalled this is Sakusa Kiyoomi’s teammate, Komori Motoya.
“I'm not eavesdropping you two, but you were speaking quite loud I can hear it from the bathroom,” Komori stated, Atsumu nodded, “but it's best for you if you don’t mention about parents and such to Sakusa,”
“And why is that? His parents died or something?”
“Oh wow you sure have an unfiltered mouth,” Komori smiled painfully, “and to answer that, yes, but not his father.”
“…” Atsumu remains quiet.
“I understand that he is hard to approach, but he is a kind-hearted guy, I hope you understand his condition and still try to befriend him,” Komori smiled at Atsumu, as he was praising that Atsumu was the only guy in this camp that ever tried to go buddy-buddy with Sakusa.
Atsumu only nodded and Komori left.
‘Shit, what have I done,’
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The next day, Sakusa felt an excessive fatigue build inside his body. He asked the coach whether he could take a breather, the coach allowed him. He went outside the court to buy drinks and sat down somewhere quiet. He felt sick suddenly as he covered his mouth, to wave away the nausea he felt. He quickly sat down to make himself better.
Atsumu, who was taking a quick break, saw him, sitting alone at a bench outside the court. He noticed that today Sakusa was paler than usual. He quickly bought a cold pocari and went to where Sakusa sat.
“…Are you okay?”
As a body approached him, blocking the sun from his face, Sakusa finally lifted his head slowly. He saw Miya Atsumu, handed him a cold bottle of newly bought pocari.
“…yes,”
“You don’t need to lie, though. I know you weren't feeling alright,” Atsumu sits beside him, Sakusa eyed him, disgusted, “what?”
“Your sweat gross me out,”
“YOU ARE SWEATING TOO OH MY GOD” Atsumu scratched his head frustratingly.
“I'm not as sweaty as you,”
“That’s because you are not practicing harder than me!”
“I'm already good enough,”
“Okay hands down then Mr. top three ace,” Atsumu surrendered, “now tell me what's the real deal,”
“What,”
“You think I don’t know about your condition?”
As Sakusa about to answer, Atsumu cut him off, “Komori told me, everything,”
“Great, now would you leave this sickly pitiful boy alone then.” Sakusa did not expect that he had to use those words he hated to sweep Atsumu outta his life.
“OH GOOOODDD IM NOT SAYING THAT AND I'M NOT LEAVING YOU!” Atsumu was never this frustrated talking to someone.
Sakusa remained silent. He knew that words have no effect on this obnoxious setter with funny dialect.
“If you are sick, just say so, i'm not judging you. Everyone has their own problem anyway,”
“It's my problem and you have no authority to get into it,”
“I'm not planning to get into your problem too, Omi-Omi,”
“Then why are you sitting beside m—” Sakusa quickly covered his mouth as he felt sick again.
“Whoa are you feeling sick? Take a breather, calm down, it's alright, I'm here.” Atsumu really, really wants to rub Sakusa’s back, but that would be rude to this germaphobe guy, so he just said soothing words and tried to calm Sakusa.
Sakusa took a deep breath, finally driving the nausea away.
“Have a drink first? Don’t worry, I’ve washed my hands before I bought this,”
Reluctantly, Sakusa grasp the pocari and drank it a little, mumbled gratitude, “Thanks,”
“No problem!”
After a long silence, Sakusa finally spoke, “I'm gonna said it only once, to you,” Sakusa took a deep breath before revealing, “I'm a carrier of leukemia,”
Atsumu was shocked. He couldn’t hide his shocking face from Sakusa. Sakusa noticed this.
“Komori didn’t even know about it,” Sakusa continued, “but I think you should know,”
“…” Atsumu stared him with disbelief, he looked down, quietly said, “…thanks for letting me know,”
Sakusa lifted up his face, facing the bright sky, “I got it from my mother, who was pregnant with me while having leukemia,” Sakusa started telling Atsumu, the dark past that none other than him and his family knows.
“My dad told me it's better to keep everything hygienic so it would hinder me from any sickness,”
Atsumu was listening, silently. So that’s why he was being a clean freak all this time.
“But he kinda forgets that no matter what comes from the outside, I still carried it inside me,” Sakusa looked at his bruised hand, “he is a doctor but he is no God, even though I know he didn’t want me to acquire it, it seems that he didn’t want to accept the fate that no matter what, I would likely, very likely to acquire it,”
Atsumu still remained silent. Sakusa continued his story.
“I already noticed the changes to my body when I was a teenager, I got tired easily, and such. My dad knew it too. And now he lets me do it anything in my way. Maybe he knows that I would never stay by his side for too long anyway,” Sakusa let out a painful smile, very slight, he never smiled at anybody but at his pitiful condition. Atsumu almost choked a sob hearing this but he bit his lips.
“I love volleyball, it's like my life.” Sakusa said, “I have no regret if this would kill me,”
“DON’T FUCKING SAY THAT YEAH?” Atsumu stood up, eyes red from holding back tears. Sakusa was quite shocked seeing his reaction, funny. He never told anybody about this and all he thought about was whenever someone knew about his condition, they would offer sympathy, pity. Atsumu's response was quite unusual for him.
“IT’S FINE IF YOU WANT TO DIE TRYING, BUT YOU AREN'T DOING IT ALONE!” Atsumu suddenly pulled Sakusa into a hug. Huh?
“…” Sakusa, still shocked, remained silent, but he felt his back was getting wet, “what are you crying for,”
“I-IM NOT CRYING IT’S YOUR SWEAT, DUMBASS!”
“I didn’t—”
“SHUT YER TRAP SAKUSA KIYOOMI” Sakusa never heard someone saying his full name in anger. Yet this one calmed him. Reluctantly, he returned Atsumu’s hug. Atsumu shuddered at his reaction.
They stayed like this until Atsumu finally calmed down and pulled away from the hug. His cheeks smeared with wet trails and his nose was red.
“Ew,”
“Just say whatever you want,” Atsumu looked down, “must be tough for ya,”
Sakusa kept quiet, waiting for another bullshit coming out from Atsumu’s mouth.
“…Have ya been crying before?” Atsumu asked.
“Nope, never,” Sakusa just shook his head.
“Well then,” Atsumu stood up, “Let just say I cried on behalf of you,”
“If you don’t want me to call you a crybaby just say so,”
“OH SHUT YER MOUTH OMI-OMI! COULDJA TRY FOR ONCE IN YER LIFE NOT TO BE SO BLUNT???”
Sakusa gave him a smile. This time a genuine one.
“Thanks.” He said as he stood up and returned to the court, “I appreciate it,”
.
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The camp was finished. And it was time for national competition.
Sakusa Kiyoomi met Miya Atsumu, again. This time in different uniforms, different teams, different sides of the court. They battled versus each other’s school now. It was already in the final. Second quarter of the game. The game was tough, nobody wanted to lose.
Atsumu eyed every Sakusa’s movement. He moved quite well. Atsumu smiled, that one precious rival he got there. Atsumu knew Sakusa never let him down.
But nope. Not until Itachiyama were in their match point.
Sakusa knew it was his last time playing. His breath was hitched. He felt suffocated. Yet he still yearned to spike, jump everywhere. His head was pounding.
It was not that long until he suddenly collapsed in the middle of the match.
Atsumu came running down the hospital hall. The moment the referee called for timeout. The match paused. Every medic team surrounded Sakusa. Atsumu, to be very honest, wanted to come near him. But his leg couldn’t even move. He was too shocked.
“ It seems that he didn’t want to accept the fate that no matter what, I would likely, very likely, to acquire it.”
Sakusa’s words came to his mind.
Atsumu finally knew, this feeling. Maybe this is what Sakusa’s dad has been feeling everyday.
“This is already incurable,”
“The disease has reached its terminal phase,”
“We can just pray that he would live a nice and peaceful last moment in his life,”
.
.
.
Sakusa Kiyoomi, has been diagnosed with blood cancer, by none other than his own dad.
.
.
.
For the first time, Atsumu met Sakusa’s dad. He looked so much like him, aside from the glasses he wore.
“Are you Kiyoomi’s friend?”
“…yes, you can say that,”
“I never knew Kiyoomi has a close friend,” Sakusa’s dad closed his notebook, “that boy, he is so stubborn,”
“…” Atsumu remained silent, watching Sakusa in his bed, wearing an oxygen mask and such. It must be stuffy, Atsumu wouldn’t try to imagine wearing one.
“I guess he told you? About his whole condition?”
Atsumu nodded.
“Then,” Sakusa’s dad put down his notebook on the table, he started to kneel, in front of Atsumu.
“Please,” He suddenly cried, Atsumu was not ready for this. “Please stay with Kiyoomi, I…I can’t stay beside him anymore…” His dad was sobbing, holding Atsumu’s hand.
“I'm the worst parent, I can’t even take care of my own child properly! I…I can’t even—”
“Sir,” Atsumu held his hands, “please stand up, Kiyoomi would never imagine his father kneeling before me, like what am I? A king? I'm just his friend, for God’s sake…” He said, kinda confused of what he should say in a situation like this. Atsumu helped Sakusa’s dad to stand up again.
“And don’t worry, Kiyoomi never think you are a bad parent,” Atsumu smiled, “He told me, everything, even the last bits pieces of his mind,” Atsumu didn’t know why he wanted to brag at this time, If Sakusa was awake, he might throw a rock to his head.
Sakusa’s dad remained silent.
Oh boy Kiyoomi. You befriended such a good, mindful fine man here.
Sakusa’s dad didn’t need to know about how absurd Miya Atsumu was.
“What's your name?”
“Its Miya Atsumu,”
“Well, Atsumu-kun,” Sakusa’s dad finally had that thin smile, the smile that looks very similar to what Sakusa’s gave him back then, “please take care of Kiyoomi…”
.
.
.
Atsumu never knew he would spend most of his time at the hospital now. The interhigh match ended with Itachiyama forfeited from the match, and so Inarizaki won automatically. The results didn’t make anyone happy but that’s just how it goes.
Itachiyama has lost one of their stars, Sakusa Kiyoomi.
Atsumu loved Sakusa Kiyoomi. So fucking much. He even ditched his volleyball practice just to visit Sakusa. Even though Sakusa didn’t say anything, except eyed him and tried to write something down. He got an oxygen breathing mask covering his lips, and Atsumu wouldn’t dare remove it.
The doctor said he can’t breath without that.
If there is a thing he should be thankful for, that, is the oxygen mask.
That kept Sakusa still able to breath until this day.
That kept Sakusa still able to open his eyes and sneer at his stupid clothes everytime he visited him.
Of course, that mask. That kept Sakusa alive. For the past 1 month.
.
.
.
“I'm curious,” Atsumu said while mending the flower inside Sakusa’s room, “why won't you take the opportunity of getting a chemotherapy?
Sakusa wrote something in his notebook, “It hurts”
“Yeah I know, but why won't you try it?”
“You heard my dad, It was no way i'm going to get cured,”
“Shoo shoo negativity!” Atsumu said playfully.
“Hey Atsumu, your clothes are ugly, go change into something better,”
“Huh? This is my style!”
“Borrow something from Osamu’s closet, he looks much handsome than you,”
“Oh yeah? Let me get it, give me 15 minutes to run and get changed, I’m going to be the most handsome man you will ever see!” And with that, Atsumu left the room.
Sakusa was alone right now in his room. Waiting patiently, he wrote something down into his notebook.
Not long after he started feeling hurt again, everywhere. Especially his head. He was suffocating, even though the oxygen mask were working.
He knew. The time has come. He didn't bother calling the nurses.
He wrote down a message for Atsumu. And tried to go to sleep.
.
.
.
The electrocardiogram in his room started beeping. Showing a straight horizontal line.
.
.
.
Atsumu arrived at Sakusa’s room. Looking all good. He saw Sakusa’s sleeping soundly and a fond feeling overcame him until he realized something. The electrocardiogram in his room was beeping, showing a straight horizontal line. Atsumu stared blankly.
“Omi…” Atsumu approached his bed.
Sakusa was lying there, his chest didn’t rise and drop like it always did when he was breathing. His eyes were shut. The electrocardiogram sound was deafening but he didn’t even bother to open his eyes anymore.
“Omi are ya deaf? Wake up!”
Atsumu reached for his hands. They were so cold, so lifeless.
He wasn’t ready for this. A sob escaped from his mouth. His chest tightened and he is suffocating but not as how sickly suffocated as Sakusa described his life in the past 1 month wearing that oxygen mask.
“This can’t be happening right…the oxygen mask is still working right…”
As he tried to look for any other way to wake Sakusa from his deep slumber, he noticed the notebook Sakusa has been using to communicate with him, placed on top of his blanket.
Atsumu reached for the notebook. As tears start brimming in his eyes.
If I leave without saying anything, at least I wrote something
It hurts Atsumu, it hurts so much to the point that I know , that my time is near the end
Let me go, Atsumu.
Let's meet again in another life, another chance.
I love you.
-Sakusa Kiyoomi.
“Omi yer cheating, really,” Atsumu couldn’t see well, the tears brimming at his eyes blurred his visions, “Ya don't need this anymore Omi. Let me remove it for ya, yeah? I know how much ya hate wearing this,” He removed the oxygen mask.
Atsumu finally saw Sakusa’s last, peaceful face. A small smile formed in his pale lips. His skin looked paler than while he was alive. “I guess it's rude if I go for your lips…” Atsumu kissed his forehead instead. Twice. Above his right eyebrow.
“I would go for your lips when I meet you in another life, ok?”
Epilogue
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It is winter in Tokyo. Snows are falling.
My name is Sakusa Kiyoomi. I’m a 3rd year medical student.
I was spending time in a library, reading some textbook in peace. Not until someone bugged me.
“Hey hey,” That’s the one bugging me, his name’s Kuroo Tetsurou, I suppose, “They said a person’s beauty mark is where your soulmate kissed you in your past life, do you believe in it?”
“Tetsu, we are med students,” I say, “There is no way we should believe in such nonsense, aren't we?”
“Aww you no fun Omi, but look at your forehead,” Kuroo points out my 2 moles on my forehead, “I guess your soulmate kissed you there, how sweet,”
“Shut up,” I close my eyes, feeling tired.
“I guess it's rude if I go for your lips…”
What was that? The voice in my mind?
“Omi? Are you leaving?”
“Yeah,” I nod, “I just want to borrow this book and read it at my apartment,”
“Uhm well, ok then, bye?”
“Bye,”
.
.
.
Tokyo sure is cold when it's snowing. I tighten the scarf to cover my cold neck. The wind is blowing. Snows are falling. I guess it’s a snowstorm. I gotta go fast so I can arrive at the apartment before it becomes a mess.
Thud. I felt someone hitting my shoulder, the books I’ve carried fall down.
“…Watch your step,” I say calmly while trying to pick up my book.
“…Omi-kun?”
That’s weird, nobody calls me that beside Tetsu.
I raise my head only to find a man with blond yellow hair, dumbfounded expression.
“Ah! Sorry!” He quickly bows, “Um.. are ya Sakusa Kiyoomi?”
He speaks with Kansai dialect. Which I don't usually hear yet so familiar for unknown reasons.
“Yeah, im Sakusa Kiyoomi,” I scan him with my eyes, “do I know—”
With no warning, he hugs me quite suddenly, and tightly.
Huh?
Wait. I kinda remember this hug. We shared the same hug at the All-Japan Youth Camp didn’t we?
.
“…Miya..Atsumu?”
“Oh my God,” The blond-haired guy gasps, “Is it really you Omi? I knew it…I fucking knew it…”
This hug really feels calming, not like hugging any stranger you just met in a random street.
“…are you the one who gave me these two moles in my forehead?”
“Haha,” He laughs then sniffled, “I guess so,”
“I would go for your lips when I meet you in another life, ok?”
“Atsumu,” I call his name, which is so, so nice to roll from my tongue, “can I kiss you on your lips?”
“Ya didn’t need to ask,” Atsumu pulls away from our hugs, giving his big smug smile, “I already ask for yer permission in yer past life, didn’t I?”
And with that. I capture his cold lips into mine. How that kiss feels perfect. Like it was made for him and with him only.
‘We finally meet again, soulmate.’
When we pull away from the kiss, he smiles very big. Very smug also.
“Hey, nice tattoo on yer face,” He snickers while pointing at these moles on my right eyebrow, “and guess who put them there? Me!”
I only smile as he steals another kiss from my lips.
"I love you too, Omi-Omi,"
Ah. He doesn't forget to answer my letter, it seems.
