Chapter Text
“Pinch punch, first of the month.”
“Shouyou?”
God, my head hurts so much.
“Earth to Shouyou?”
Snap, snap.
“Hey, buddy, you there?"
Ah, Jesus, my eyes are so foggy.
“It’s time to leave.”
Who is this? Piss off, I want to sleep. Just a little longer.
Poke.
-----
Shouyou wearily looks around his surroundings, a fat ball of platinum blonde blocking half his view.
He shoots up.
“What the fuck?”
Pause.
“…Where the fuck?”
Confused and half asleep, he looks left, to the right, then left again to make sure. His location seems a fancy restaurant, too fancy to be coming here on his own. There are people, does he know them? And ah- Oh. Oh fuck.
He fell asleep in the middle of a fucking team meet.
Shouyou slaps his cheeks and wails. “God. God fucking dammit Hinata Shouyou!” He swings his head back and throws it forward, slowing down an inch before he hits the table.
He sighs. “Sorry.”
That fat lump of- god, whatever it was (platinum?), reaches forward and brushes the hair out of Shouyou’s face.
“Calm down Sho-kun. Nothin’ to be sorry for,” it says- Oh. Atsumu says with a smile. “Did ya hear me earlier? Maybe I have to perform it again.”
Meian furrows his brow and shoots Atsumu a dagger. “Don’t.”
“Hey, no, he needs to be conscious for it to work. Pinch punch, first of the month!”
Shhhh.
Shouyou’s head is pounding, he only had one or two drinks, didn’t he?
“Oi, what’s the time?” he groans, fighting back the urge to knock some sense into his brain.
Meian flips his phone out his jacket pocket and takes a glance at the screen. “Eight past twelve. AM. First of December.”
Shouyou leans back into his chair. Ah god, the impact hurt more than usual, did he get an infection? He holds in a wince the doesn’t dare spill out his mouth. “I guess that explains why this moron is using me as a punching bag.”
He looks away into the distance and rolls his eyes, knowing damn well Atsumu is pouting right now.
What a stupid idea to pop a sleeping pill before going out. Definitely did not go well with the drink he ordered. Well, the drink Bokuto told him to order, to be exact.
And hey, wait, why does everyone’s voice keep fading out? Was Omi-san here the whole time?
Get your head in the damn game, Shouyou.
He lets out his signature smile at the team and yawns, covering his mouth to hide the pained expression seeping out his face. His back hurt like a bitch. Please don’t be bleeding, he begs.
Wait, Meian said it’s past twelve, right? The next day?
Shit.
Shouyou flies out his seat and swings his backpack across his shoulder. “I should get going.”
“Wait,” Meian interrupts, stopping him from leaving. “I have exciting news for everyone.”
The team looks around and mutters amongst each other, Meian smiles at Shouyou and motions him to sit back down. He bites the inside of his lip and twiddles with his thumbs, his legs jittering ever so slightly.
Atsumu takes account of Shouyou’s actions.
“Everything okay, Sho-kun?” He asks.
It takes a moment for him to process Atsumu’s words. Shouyou scratches his back, and oh no, was that blood?
“O-oh! I’m okay! I’m excited to hear the news,” he fakes a smile and attempts to lick the blood off his finger as secretly as possible.
Meian grins. “The V-League organized an event for the top two division 1 teams,” he pauses, and silence fills the room, everyone losing themselves in thought. “Black Jackals and Schweiden Adlers are playing a special match for Christmas eve, live on TV!”
Bokuto jumps up excitedly and shakes Atsumu by his shoulders, “that’s so freaking cool!” a squeak coming from the back of his throat.
And cute, is Omi-san smiling under his mask? The rest of the MSBY looks thrilled, too.
The news would excite Shouyou, he loves volleyball. It’s his life, after all. But things change. He sat there trying to hide the worry off his face, making it less noticeable at the least.
Shouyou was hiding a dark secret, nobody knew but himself. The guilt is almost unbearable, and he forces himself to not fly out the restaurant door that instant.
“That’s not all the good news!” Meian raves.
He reaches into his endless bag, fiddles with its contents and pulls out a small tub. It could fit approximately 12 jellybeans, Shouyou thought to himself. Instead, it was filled to the brim with folded pieces of paper.
“Who’s ready to participate in the MSBY Secret Santa?!” Meian growls, opening the tub to show his team.
A collection of grins spread across everyone’s face, all except Shouyou.
“I can’t,” he mumbles, looking down at his feet.
The noise level in the room lowered unintentionally, each person trying to catch onto what was said.
“Pardon?” Shouyou wasn’t sure who was speaking, so he hesitates to finish his sentence.
“I don’t want to participate,” he glances at the pairs of eyes watching him, “I can’t.”
Nobody speaks for a moment, all taking in Shouyou’s words.
Meian breaks the silence. “That’s okay, don’t stress!” he gives Shouyou a reassuring smile and pats him on the back.
He sticks his hand into the tub and ruffles around the paper, pulling out one with “Shouyou” written on it.
“You have ten seconds to change your mind,” Meian winks, waving the slip around, causing Shouyou to chuckle slightly.
“Oh, no, it’s okay!” he smiles, “I genuinely can’t.”
Meian nods in approval and faces the rest of his team. “Alright, everyone! As usual, take a paper out of the tub and don’t tell anyone who. If you got yourself, speak up and we’ll do a redraw.”
The chitchat amidst the table grew louder as each member picked out a name.
Shouyou wants to leave, to get out of this damn place and go home. And don’t tell me that stupid sleeping pill is kicking in for a second time. When did it get so quiet? Is that darkness?
No, stop, it hurts. Please.
STOP!
“-uyou?”
I didn’t do anything wrong.
I didn’t do anything… please.
“-houyou?”
Don’t hit me, I beg.
“-o-kun?”
It wasn’t my fault.
“Shouyou Hinata!”
“A-ah!” Shouyou flutters his eyes open and soars up.
“Are ya okay? You dozed off again, but it seemed like you had a bad dream.” Atsumu concerns, giving Shouyou a sympathetic look.
But that’s not Atsumu, Atsumu doesn’t have orange hair. Why’s he holding a scalpel? No, please, let it go. Don’t get closer, get your filthy hands away! I’m your child, for fucks sake!
Wait… platinum?
He hates his stupid mind, useless fucking brain, stop imagining things! It’s Atsumu. No one else.
“Sho-kun?” Atsumu waves at his face, attempting to get his attention, “why are you crying?”
Crying? He wipes at his right cheek slowly, feeling the wetness from his eye.
Fuck.
He rapidly wipes the rest from his other eye and grabs his belongings from the floor. “I have to go, I’m so sorry,” Shouyou snivels behind him and glides out the door.
They can’t know, they’re not supposed to find out.
Unaware that he was followed, Shouyou flinches.
“Hey, what’s up?” a voice whispers, grabbing him by the shoulder.
Shouyou spins around, shoving the man off him. “Fuck off! Get away from me you fucking basta-“
…Atsumu?
No.
No, no, no!
Shouyou howls, tears spilling down his face. “I’m so sorry, Atsumu. I thought you were someone else. Fuck! Forgive me.”
He covers his gaping mouth and disappears into the darkness of the alleyway, making sure not to look back.
-
The ticking silence from Shouyou’s own home is comforting, and if it were a being, they’d be friends. One thing that could understand him is the darkness in his bedroom, overpowering his reading light. The only thing that knows, something he doesn’t fear of change, and undoubtedly no fake smiles.
He has a boyfriend. Famous Kageyama Tobio, powder-curry-service-ace-guy, rivals to lovers. Was it his dick talking or his heart? God, Shouyou’s not mentally stable enough to be dating someone, but he listens to his head, that son of a bitch.
Despite being on different teams, they keep a good relationship. They meet up often, taking a walk to Tobio’s apartment (at midnight, mostly) and climbing up to the rooftop. Shouyou preferred to call it their ‘signature spot.’
As they dangle their legs off the edge and hang onto the safety railing for dear life, Shouyou wonders how easy it would be to jump. To fall peacefully at the raging traffic down below, his worries, burdens, memories, all losing themselves in the moment.
There are two things Shouyou loves, two things to keep him going. One being volleyball, the other, well, Tobio. But those do not know his struggles, his past. Volleyball isn’t a living organism. It won’t understand, it is physically incapable.
And Tobio?
Shouyou is scared, how would he react? Would he leave? Things will change; Shouyou hates change. He’s afraid there’d be no bickering, no fun. He believes a typical day between them would be constant checkup calls and worry. Stress is horrible for your skin, Tobio.
Your skin is wonderful, and I don’t want you to ruin it because of me.
Shouyou knows his boyfriend loves him, but that’s not the case. ‘Love’ cannot save him; he’s too far down the rabbit hole to come back. No matter the situation, he won’t stop, he won’t get help. He doesn’t need it, it’s all under control, right?
Shouyou spins the shower tap on, ripping his jacket off in the meantime. Oh yeah, he certainly noticed that.
The red stain on his back, drenching his yellow shirt. He pulls it off and stares at the mammoth cut, the flow of blood dripping down his lats. It’s gotten substantial, and yuck, was that bone showing? The litter of smaller wounds pepper around his skin, some scabbing, some scars - some even slightly bleeding.
He knew going that deep would cause problems, but god, he just wanted to try it once. And honestly, it felt good, he’d do it again if it didn’t end in needing stitches. He’s been cutting for years now, keeping a tally in his head throughout the day. Every fuck up, every feeling of guilt, it all adds up.
Today – well, yesterday, the total was 12. 2 for forgetting to message Tobio, 1 for taking a sleeping pill before a team meet, 2 for falling asleep, 1 for not participating, another 2 for falling asleep again, 1 for letting his guard down around his teammates, and lastly, 3 for hurting Atsumu.
He knew it was wrong. It wasn’t safe, it was risky, he could nick a vein and accidentally kill himself right there.
But he continues.
This is the thing nobody knows about, and he prefers to keep it that way.
He picks up his phone from the sink and opens his messenger app. 10 unread messages from Tobio, way to fucking go Shouyou.
Tobio <3
7:12PM, Friday.
Shouyou? Is everything okay?
Ah, sorry! I forgot you had a team meet. I hope you had fun!
Text me when you get home, I love you.
12:34AM, Saturday.
Hi!! Sorry for not replying, gahh!
I fell asleep, twice! It was embarrassing.
Did you hear about the special match?????
I’M SO EXCITED!
He feels bad for lying, for pretending like he was okay. It’s all to protect Tobio, that’s all. Nothing more.
Shouyou opens the cabinet above the mirror, and ah, A packet of all his best friends. They smile at him willingly, their sharp blades taunting him, and reaching into the packet, he takes out the sharpest one he could prick his finger on.
He holds it tight and steps into the shower, letting out that gnarly wince. Each speckle of water hitting his skin feels like acid rain, he should mend that gash back up. Not that he was a doctor or anything (he wasn’t), he learnt how to treat his wounds and stitch them closed if necessary. Honestly, it’s a much needed life skill – for Shouyou at least.
He motions the blade across his body, contemplating which area of skin he should mark. Shoulders and wrists are a definite no; they’re too obvious, they would show when he wears his training shirt. Alternatively, he settles on his chest and inner thigh.
One.
Gosh, it feels sensational.
Two.
Ah, the pain, it’s perfect.
Five.
The blood drops on the floor; they’re beautiful.
Eleven.
He deserves this, useless bastard.
Twelve.
Shouyou slides down to the shower floor and drops the blade; his work here is done.
As always, his head clogs with regret.
Hinata Shouyou was going to take his own life before Christmas.