Chapter Text
When Goshiki dies, he leaves an unfillable hole in his wake. His absence takes the form of an empty chair at the dining room table and uneaten ice cream. He leaves behind unfinished lists and shoes that he was supposed to fill.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Something is wrong, Ushijima could tell from the moment he stepped into the building. He hadn’t been expecting a stand off. He had come to the abandoned building by the pier as per usual for a simple meetup with the leader of Wakutani South. The two gangs had come together peacefully often enough that when Wakutani South’s leader, Nakashima, pulled a gun on him, Ushijima was taken by surprise. What Ushijima had expected was a casual exchange of information regarding the recent movements of Aoba Johsai for a predetermined lump sum of money. What he hadn’t expected was to be betrayed by an ally, and that his prodigy would be the one to take the brunt of said betrayal in the form of a bullet to the chest.
It happens so fast, there’s shouting and then the sharp sound of a gun firing.
“Naruko, do it!” Nakashima yells at Wakutani South’s youngest member.
It’s all a blur until suddenly, Ushijima feels something warm and hard hit against his side. Another body? Ushijima feels a panic rise in his chest as he recognizes who’s crashed into him. Goshiki. Goshiki, who Ushijima thought was at home, who should be at home, is body slamming his mentor out of the way as shots are being fired at them. Goshiki, who Ushijima had inspired and looked after for the last six years, who had eagerly made the leap from volleyball player to gang member with unrivaled enthusiasm, and who would do anything to be Shiratorizawa’s ace.
There’s an echo of voices from Wakutani South and Ushijima vaguely registers Nakashima cursing, yelling for a retreat, but it’s like the sound of the gunshot has blown out Ushijima’s eardrums and everything sounds like it’s underwater. He hears Goshiki cry out in pain, and it’s like the world turns in slow motion. His brain hasn’t even processed that Goshiki is there with him, let alone the fact that he’s bleeding out.
Ushijima was sure he had come alone, he had told the other members of Shiratorizawa to stay behind and that backup was not required. Tendou had been sent on his first solo mission and was due to come home that evening. He had trusted Ushijima to watch over their protégé, but somehow, Goshiki must have followed him. He was so sure that he had double checked he wasn’t being followed, he was so sure. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
“Goshiki, Goshiki!” Ushijima yells as he sees the younger boy’s body drop and crumple like a rag doll. Goshiki hits the ground with a sickening thud, his limbs outstretched oddly and face contorted in pain.
Ushijima dives towards him, falling to his knees and quickly putting pressure on the bulletwound. There’s the sound of scurrying feet, probably the other gang retreating, but Ushijima can’t even remember that there are other people in the room, nor that they had just tried to kill him for some unknown reason. None of it mattered, all he can see is the blood pooling in Goshiki’s mouth as he twists his fingers into the fabric of Ushijima’s dress shirt.
“Tendou is going to kick my ass when we get home,” Goshiki laughs weakly. Ushijima doesn’t smile at the joke and instead presses his forehead against Goshiki’s as he clutches the younger boy so tightly his knuckles turn white.
“Why did you follow me?” Ushijima asks as he continues to apply pressure on the bulletwound. He feels confused and afraid. Goshiki had waved him off with a smile not more than an hour ago. The younger boy had always been overeager and would constantly beg Tendou to let him go on missions, even though he was still so new to the mob scene. The tattoos on Goshiki’s body were only a few months old, far from being able to be filled in with colour.
“I’m sorry I couldn't be a good enough ace,” Goshiki forces through a smile. There’s blood leaking out of his mouth and his skin gets more pale with every breath.
“Stay with me, Tsutomu, we have to get home and see Tendou, okay? Just take deep breaths, I have you,” Ushijima tries to keep his voice even and soothing so as not to send his young protégé into shock.
He has one hand pressing down on the bullet wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, and the other around Goshiki’s back as he’s half pulled into his captain’s lap. The smaller boy's eyes threaten to slide closed, but Ushijima shakes him. “Tsutomu? Tsutomu!”
Goshiki lets out a little whimper as his tight grasp on Ushijima’s shirt loosens. “Tsutomu!”
Ushijima’s voice cracks and he pulls his bloodied hand away from Goshiki’s chest to cradle the boy’s face, “Tsutomu…” he chokes out.
Goshiki manages one last weak breath before falling limp against Ushijima’s torso. The world falls away and Ushijima feels like he’s the one who’s been shot through the chest. Ushijima runs his thumb gently across Goshiki’s cheek, hoping for the flutter of eyelashes or a soft turn into his touch, but no such reaction occurs. He pulls his head up and stares at the ceiling. He grits his teeth and screws his eyes shut as he shakes his head.
Ushijima cursed himself that he should have known Goshiki would follow him, the younger boy had always been so eager to follow in Ushijima’s footsteps. Ever since they had first met in high school, Goshiki had aspired to be like his then-captain. Usually Tendou was the one who could tame Goshiki’s overeager attitude, but Tendou was away on a solo mission, one that Ushijima has sent him on. If only he had made Tendou stay, if only he had come to this meeting armed, if only he had triple checked to make sure he wasn’t being trailed, if only he had asked another Shiratorizawa member to keep an eye on their youngest recruit. If only he had done something else, anything else.
Ushijima lowers his head and uses his hand to brush Goshiki’s disheveled bangs back into place. They’re a little bit too long; Tendou was supposed to cut them when he got home later that day. The image causes Ushijima to bite down on the inside of his cheek; he doesn’t want to think about it.
Ushijima pulls his suit jacket off and wraps it around Goshiki. The shoulders of the jacket dwarf the smaller boy, and if Goshiki were alive and Tendou were there, the redhead would most certainly make a joke about Goshiki looking like a little kid trying on their father’s clothes. The thought of Tendou’s endearing way of teasing and the embarrassed flush that would spread across Goshiki’s cheeks makes Ushijima wince. Tendou probably would have told Goshiki that he looked great, albeit a little silly, and Goshiki would have practically beamed, but that’s not going to happen because the Goshiki in Ushijima’s suit jacket is dead and Tendou’s in another town. This isn’t how things are supposed to go.
Ushijima calls Saito Akira, Shiratorizawa’s old assistant coach turned ‘private janitor’. Essentially, he cleans up crime scenes and patches up minor wounds when needed. He doesn’t live with the rest of the gang and doesn’t actively participate in their business, but he’s there when they need him to be. Ushijima tells him what’s happened in not so many words. Saito gets there in twenty minutes. He finds Ushijima on the floor of the small abandoned building with Goshiki half pulled into his lap, cradling the younger’s body against his chest with a protective look in his eye.
Ushijima looks up at the older man who’s clearly holding back tears, and Ushijima feels jealous. Jealous that he can feel the grief already, jealous that he didn’t have to hear how sad Goshiki’s last words were. He holds Goshiki’s body against his chest for one moment more before carefully standing up and placing him in Saito’s arms.
“Please be careful with him,” Ushijima says, his eyes briefly fluttering up to meet Saito’s. But then his gaze quickly shifts back down to look at Goshiki’s limp form and he considers snatching him back out of Saito’s arms. Instead, he stands in place and watches Saito carry Goshiki away. It hurts to watch, but Ushijima knows he can’t bring Goshiki’s body back to the house. There was no way he could take Goshiki back like that. He couldn’t let the rest of his teammates see Goshiki’s body like that, blown open and bloodied.
Ushijima can’t even remember driving home, but when he finally pulls up to the Shiratorizawa House, he walks inside with his head down and shoulders squared. The downstairs lights are off, and usually when Ushijima comes home he’s greeted by at least a handful of his boisterous former teammates chatting or playing games or making snacks, except now it’s quiet. Upon first glance, one would assume it was a frat house, though it truly boasted one of Miyagi’s strongest gangs. But now, the house seems empty, and the air is thick. Saito must have told them all what had happened, as everyone had seemingly retreated to their rooms. No one knew how to deal with Ushijima’s limited ability to express his emotions except for Tendou, so possibly overwhelming their leader seemed too high a risk to take.
Ushijima heads straight up the stairs and into his office, not even checking to glance and make sure no one is around. He walks in but neglects to close the door behind him before grabbing a crystal glass off his desk and filling it with whiskey. The gang leader pours about half of it down his throat before collapsing onto the large couch to the right of his desk. His hands are shaking as he rests his elbows on his knees and holds his head in one hand. He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there until a too familiar voice breaks through the silence of the house. Oh, Tendou’s home.
“Tadaima,” Tendou calls out in a cheery voice, but as soon as the word leaves his mouth, he immediately notices that something is wrong. No one is in the large living room downstairs to greet him, and all the lights appear to be off, save the one in the kitchen. He makes a beeline for the office.
Ushijima can feel Tendou’s eyes on him as soon as the redhead is standing in the doorway. Tendou’s eyes go wide in realization as he spots the large blood stain on his boyfriend’s chest. Everything pulls together in an instant: the quietness of the house, the lights being off, Ushijima slumped over on the couch with a glass of whiskey in his hand—and the Shiratorizawa leader never drinks.
Ushijima takes a deep breath, staring down at the drink in his hand. He can’t bring himself to look up when he tells Tendou without prompt, “He got caught in the crossfire.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but Tendou hears it loud and clear. The realization plays over and over in his head as if through a fog horn: “Goshiki is dead, Goshiki is dead, Goshiki is dead!”.
The noise that rips itself from Tendou’s throat sounds inhuman. It’s blood curdling and devastating. The way Tendou howls as he doubles over is so loud, it may as well split the ground beneath him in two. His knees hit the floor first, and then his forearms, as he collapses on the ground in a lump. One hand clutches at his chest while the other pulls at his own hair. All Tendou can do is scream at the top of his lungs, shrieking as if he’s watching Goshiki’s death play out right in front of him. No words come out of his mouth, just heartbreaking feral sounds that make every member of Shiratorizawa stop dead in their tracks, frozen still even in their own bedrooms.
“No, no, no!” Tendou shouts, now pounding his clenched fists against the floor. His knuckles bleed after only a few hits, but he doesn’t stop. “Not before me!” he shrieks. Ushijima watches Tendou’s heart shatter.
“Satori—” Ushijima tries to get out, but he’s stuck where he is, and the redhead can’t meet his eyes. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion, the way Tendou’s arms flail as he screams, and Ushijima is stuck there watching it all unfold. It’s torturous.
Tendou cries louder with every slam of his fist, screaming and wailing with such force that the entire house seems to quake with the heave of his chest. Ushijima watches the love of his life fall apart on the floor in front of him, but his legs are as heavy as lead and he can’t bring himself to move. He holds his whiskey glass close and suddenly becomes very aware of the wet stickiness that is stained across his chest. the thought of taking Tendou into his arms only to cover him in their protégé’s blood makes Ushijima feel sick to his stomach.
“Where is he?” Tendou chokes out between sobs. Ushijima just stares at him, unsure of what to say. He didn’t want to bring Goshiki’s body home, he couldn’t bring himself to. He couldn’t let Tendou see what Ushijima had let happen to him, or else Ushijima feared his boyfriend may never be able to forgive him for failing to protect the aspiring ace.
“Satori…” Ushijima croaks, his boyfriend’s name barely able to escape his throat as he looks up at the redhead with glassy eyes.
Ushijima’s mind is suddenly filled with horrific images of Goshiki’s cold body laid out on their dining room table, baby face and all hidden under a white sheet that’s bloodied around his chest, with the entire team standing around him. He imagines the dramatic way Tendou would fling the sheet off and scream. He pictures Tendou cradling Goshiki’s face in his hands and begging for the younger boy to wake up, to come back to them, to come back to him. Pleading until he loses his voice. He thinks about how Goshiki’s tattoos will never be filled and how Tendou would trace the thick black lines. He imagines Tendou fixing Goshiki’s bangs just as he had earlier. Ushijima can feel how hard his heart is beating against his ribs, and he shakes his head, as if the very motion will shake the thoughts out of his brain. It doesn’t work, of course.
“Where is he?!” Tendou demands again with a shriek. He pushes himself off the floor and stares up at Ushijima with wide, watery eyes. The taller man just gapes at his boyfriend as Tendou sprints towards Goshiki’s room, running in and locking the door behind him.
Tendou feels like the walls are closing in on him, he feels suffocated, like he’s having an asthma attack. He chokes on his sobs and covers his mouth to try to stifle the noise, the sight in front of him so normal it’s unnerving. The room is left just as it would be if Goshiki was coming home. The bed is unmade, the sheets are wrinkled, and a blanket that had been stolen from the living room is balled up at the foot of the bed. There are little trinkets strewn across the desk: pencils and hair clips and colourful sticky notes. There are pictures in frames across every surface, most of them featuring team pictures, but there’s one picture on Goshiki’s nightstand that boasts a selfie of him, Tendou, and Ushijima together at the beach holding ice cream cones. Tendou picks up the photograph and clutches it so hard against his chest that he can hear the delicate wood of the frame snap beneath his grasp.
A new round of tears begin to spill down Tendou’s cheeks, and his body shakes as he sobs violently, cheeks red and chest heaving. He crawls into Goshiki’s bed and goes to burrow himself under the covers when he feels an odd lump of fabric at his side. Tendou pats around the bed and is baffled to find a stuffed animal, his stuffed animal. It’s a worn, scraggly looking thing, the possum stuffed animal that he holds in his hands. He had been gifted it when he was little, and had occasionally lent the plush toy to Goshiki when the younger boy had nightmares. So this was where his possum had gone off to, fending off whatever it could in Tendou’s absence. Too bad it couldn’t have done a better job, Tendou thinks with a weak smile. Too bad he couldn’t have done a better job.
Tendou wraps his arms around his own shoulders and hugs himself tightly. He wishes he could give Goshiki one more hug, or ruffle his hair one last time. He was supposed to get home from his solo mission and cut Goshiki’s bangs with him sitting on the sink. Tendou had cut them for Goshiki ever since their first year of high school, and they’d never have those special little moments again. He lets himself sink into the mattress as he pulls the covers up around his shoulders and buries his face in the soft fabric of the stuffed possum. He misses Goshiki so much that it hurts. His joints ache and his skin itches and his eyes burn, but he can’t move. All Tendou can do is curl in on himself, hoping that he’ll wake up and it will all have been a nightmare. He cries himself to exhaustion and time falls away, along with any semblance of it. Tendou slips in and out of sleep, crying on and off, trying to imagine how he can get up and face a world without Goshiki. He doesn’t think he can; it’s not worth it, anyways.
On the other side of the door, Ushijima sits with his legs crossed, and he still hasn’t changed. He stares at his hands in his lap, rubbing his thumb across the palm of his hand as if he can still feel the warmth of Goshiki’s skin from where he last touched him. He leans back and knocks his head against the door, baring his throat as he looks up at the ceiling. His entire being wants to believe that Goshiki is just beyond the door at his back, but he can’t pretend when he hears the inconsolable wailing coming from the other side. With every sob, it’s like he can feel his heart tearing, and yet the tears still won’t come. If anything, Ushijima feels hollow, like something has been torn out of his body. For a moment, he wishes he was the one with the real hole in his chest. He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes and wills himself to cry. He wills himself to feel something, anything other than emptiness, but his cheeks remain dry and it makes him feel even worse.