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“Please don’t go.” It’s a soft, tearful whisper.
“I thought you would understand, y/n. We had established this.” His reply was blunt. Like a dull knife to the chest, digging deeply only to pull right back out, leaving you gushing and writhing at his words.
“Please don’t.” Your cry reached his ears this time.
“I need to focus.” He sighs, twinging with guilt.
Why couldn’t you understand? Had you not confirmed with him that you knew his career would come first? Above everything?
Or did he misspeak, giving you the false assurance that this would work forever? That he could treat you as though it were possible to balance both you and his life’s work.
“Then I won’t distract you! Just don’t leave me. Please.” You pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.
Resistant to change. No accommodations. Nothing to give or take.
“Maybe someday, y/n. But this isn’t working. And right now, I have to call this off.” Ushijima’s response sounds cold.
He meant for it to somehow be more heartening. Promising, even. That maybe this was just the wrong time and place. Where time could ebb and flow, but someday he would be able to draw his way back to you.
Yes, there would be a day where you could take priority.
Because he wanted you… but not above his first love. Not above his skills and lifestyle.
Volleyball comes first. Plain and simple.
And for that, he wouldn’t compromise.
—
White, crisp linens and fresh lemony scents.
Fluffed pillows fitted with new covers and soft patterns.
Feather filled duvets. Curtains are drawn to keep out the early morning light. It’s Clean. Clear. Pristine. Even the dust particles, dancing around the room, seemed to find their own peace, settling mildly in gentle formations.
Your eyes sleepily blink open, rustling your arms over the bedspread to what should be a happier sight. It should feel snug and heartwarming. The pillows hugging your sides, the gentle birdsong outside your window, a conceivably delicious cup of coffee to be made in the kitchen.
Yes, you should be content. You were safe. Physically you were okay, plus you didn’t have anything on your checklist for today. No obligations. No responsibilities.
Things appeared fine for months now…
And yet all you notice is who’s missing.
There’s no longer a delicate divet where his dozing head used to lay. The scent and shape of the pillow had only recently dissipated thanks to your citrusy laundry detergent and the slow passing of time.
You don’t awaken to the essence of your recently showered, olive-green eyed boyfriend. You could still picture the water droplets, hanging freshly on the tips of his tufts of hair. How the towel draped around his neck, over his shoulders, catching the drips and drops as they fell.
That warm smile he gifted you with, before placing a chaste kiss upon your forehead, caressing the side of your face. It was pure. You can almost feel the ghost of his lips. Still lingering. Mocking you.
You were liberated from his presence… but you never wanted to be.
Being absorbed in his chaotic life had kept you busy, but you had never minded it. There was never a doubt in your mind that volleyball would be his first priority. That he would follow his passions. His plans. His abilities.
You just wanted to tag along. To sincerely celebrate his victories and mourn his losses. Supporting him and holding onto him when he needed it. Yes, he got home late at night, left early in the morning, and only connected with you on his very few off days… but you cherished every second of it.
Because you loved him. You poured your soul into watching him flourish and thrive. It made you feel whole.
However, eventually, to Ushijima, you started to rival volleyball, becoming a distraction. He had made space for you in his already complicated life. And at first, it was a welcome change. A breath of fresh air to his methodical and planned out character. You were complex, bringing new perspective and sunshine into his typically boring apartment. Beautiful in a natural, yet eye-catching way. Furthermore, you somehow knew how to keep up with his hectic pace along with his gruff personality.
In every aspect, you were perfect.
Expect one.
You were a diversion from the life he had in mind.
And even though you never pushed him to give you more… he longed to give you more of his attention. More time. To share his success with you. To love you deeper. To give you what you deserved. Because you are a profound being… and it burdened him to have to choose between his two greatest desires.
But, as most things do, these thoughts of love and devotion go unspoken, coming out all wrong. Mangled, unemotional, and misrepresented. Looking back, Ushijima wishes he’d been able to express it to you with empathy. To erase the tears that followed his brutal narrative. But softness isn’t his strong suit… and he needed you to know that, as powerful as he was, he wasn’t strong enough to balance you and volleyball.
—
“Ushijima, if you leave…” You take a deep breath, tears slipping down your red-hued cheeks, “… you have to promise me you’ll never come back.” You choke out, your request came out in a sobering snarl.
For a moment, you question your own words- but your dignity was on the line.
“You can’t just break up with me and expect me to be there when you get back. I’m not disposable, you know?”
His body goes rigid. He hadn’t meant it that way.
You meant more to him than words could express… so why couldn’t he get it out clearly enough? How could he make you understand the gravity of his choices?
“…Y/n, it doesn’t have to be like that. I just need to concentrate right now.” The alarm, though subtle, shines in his eyes.
His usually composed, confident figure began to show cracks of uncertainty. He didn’t want you out of his life… Not at all.
He just needs you out of his mind for the time being. Just until he had things settled. You could come back at some point and he could love you so well. Just the way it was supposed to be.
But clearly he’d struck a deeper chord. He’d selfishly assumed you would wait for him. You weren’t some prized pony.
You’re a person. Someone with worth, plans, and dreams, just like him. He’d failed to acknowledge just how demeaning the truth of his actions were. But it’s too late.
You haven’t replied and the pain is etched intricately across your face.
“Okay, fine.” He breathes in deeply, letting out one final exhalation of defeat, “I… I’m sorry, y/n.” His brows furrow in deep, conflicted thought, but his mind is made.
He won’t be back.
—
Ushijima’s life hasn’t changed much.
It’s the same old routine. The standard, grueling workouts. Typical volleyball practice, group meetings, finances, paychecks, physicals, doctor’s appointments, fan meet-n-greets.
The usual.
But there’s a void settling like glacial frost in his soul. A snowy blue that seemed to melt into his bones, slowing him down.
He didn’t go a week… a day… a minute without thinking of you.
Even now, lying in bed, the room cloaked in a tranquil darkness, you rest on his mind.
It’s not just the emptiness of the bed or the lack of physical touch. It’s the bitter, clawing memories of what he’d done to you and your gentle spirit. His body is frigid and forever frozen in the recurring visions of his foolish explanations, by how heartless and indifferent he’d seemed.
He’ll never get over the venomous tinge to your words.
You’d felt used.
He’d never meant to make you feel that way.
But since he moved out of your apartment, everything has felt glaringly hollow. The icy, barren tundra he crosses every time he realizes he won’t come home to your sunbeam smile and those thoughtfully lit candles, wears on him. How you would lavish him in comforting words, lulling him into a restful sleep.
Ushijima hardly remembers the last time he slept well.
Those dark circles under his eyes follow him everywhere. His whole team can see the exhaustion seeping into his execution of serves and spikes. He’s never struggled with his game performance before, but somehow the crashing reality of you leaving him has broken his patterns and systems.
He’s weary from searching for an answer to his emotions. Your warmth gave him life… and with that gone, what was the point of all of this?
And then it struck him, the realization sinking its needle-sharp claws into his soul, shredding it in seconds.
He’d found something far more valuable than any unique skill. More remarkable than the legacy he’d built as a world-class volleyball player. Someone who wanted to be with him just for the sake of… love.
And for the first time since he was young, he lets a tear slip into his white pillowcase.
Just one.
But it’s for you.
Because in chasing after what made him feel known and alive…
He’d lost the only person who had ever wanted to show him that he was important all along. The only person who was satisfied with his bizarre schedules. Someone who expected nothing more than gentle kisses and weekend dates.
But you were right.
You aren’t dispensable. Nor are you someone to drop for the purpose of picking up later, like loose change on a sidewalk. You deserved to be cherished. Held tightly. Given the love that you offered others.
He wishes he’d listened when you’d pleaded with him to stay. That he’d thought it through and functioned on more than just logic and reasoning. If only he’d known what it really meant to choose you.
Because if you were here now, he’d be the one begging,
“Please don’t go.”