Chapter Text
“Mihashi? How is he today?” Tajima asked.
“Ah, he, um. He still hasn’t come out of his room,” Mihashi replied, balancing his cellphone on his shoulder so he could distribute his groceries evenly between both arms. Normally, he’d realize that kinking his neck would be just as bad as injuring his back, but none of that was of a big concern at the moment.
“Maybe you should call a doctor?” Tajima said. “It’s not good for him. Or you.”
“Ah, but, he... he told me not to. Call a doctor.”
“Well, he’s an idiot. What about his mom or something?”
Mihashi quickly gave up on the groceries (because his neck was actually starting to hurt after all) and set them on a bench to finish his conversation, a block away from Abe’s apartment.
“I don’t think....I mean his re...relationship with his mom is not...um... like yours. Or mine.”
“Mihashi!”
“Uwa...I...I’m sorry I just...I want to...listen to him...”
“Mihashi, Abe needs help. He says he doesn’t need it, but he does. You are the only person close enough to him, so it’s your responsibility to get it for him! I, oh, I have to get to practice now-- yeah! one sec!”
“AH! Sorry! Yuu-chan! Thanks for talking to me!”
“Good luck, Mihashi! I’ll call afterwards!”
Mihashi stood at the bench for a good minute, looking at the screen of the phone long after Tajima hung up.
Tajima didn’t understand that Mihashi wasn’t disobeying Abe out of fear. It was out of empathy. He understood Abe. He didn’t know why he was acting like this, but he understood it. He’d never had someone important to him die, but he knew what it was like to be sad.
“A...Abe-kun! I’m...I’m here!” Mihashi announced at the doorway. Though he knew Abe wasn’t going to meet him, he had a small, quiet hope that he would. He’d have come out of his room, and would reach down to help him with the groceries, go on like nothing had ever happened. He’d watch Mihashi make dinner, careful not to touch anything and ruin it or get scolded. They’d have their usual awkward dinner and maybe watch a game and then Abe would see him off, and Mihashi’s heart would break all the way back to the station for failing to, for the hundredth time, ask if he could sleep over.
But instead, and like the past three days had been, Mihashi heard and saw no sign of Abe, so he pulled off his shoes and jacket and put the groceries on the kitchen counter.
“A...Abe-kun,” Mihashi said, peeking into Abe’s bedroom. “I’m back now. C- can I make you something to eat?”
The only response Mihashi got was a rustling by the head of the bed, Abe shaking his head “no.”
“Y- you should eat something. You... you didn’t eat since yesterday e...eve...ning.”
Abe pulled his comforter over his head.
“Ren, go home and stop worrying about me,” Abe grumbled, voice hoarse.
It was scary.
Not the kind of scary he remembers in middle school, intimidated by his peers’ hatred and the threat of violence from teammates. Not even the kind of scared from high school, where any botched pitch, any notion of disobedience from him might make him hated once again. It wasn’t even the type of scared from when he entered university, worried that he wouldn’t go anywhere or make anything of himself without baseball and a team to support him.
This scary was worse than all of those.
So Mihashi had set to making some miso soup. Abe would probably end up eating that. Maybe.
“Hello, Ishida-sensei. This is Mihashi Ren. I’ll be absent from your lecture today again, because I’m taking care of a friend who is sick. Thank you.”
Mihashi hung up the phone and gave the pot a final stir.
“Please, Abe-kun,” Mihashi asked, sitting seiza next to Abe’s bed. “You have to eat something.”
“I told you, I’m not hungry!” Abe growled, still under the covers. His voice didn’t boom the way it used to, but that was not due to the current situation. He had toned down over the years.
Mihashi shut his eyes tight.
He was scared, for sure. But just as Abe had been taught to be gentle, Mihashi had learned how to be brave.
“I’m c-calling someone.”
Abe shifted.
“What?”
“I’m calling someone! To check on you. A... a doctor.”
This warranted movement from Abe, and the threw off the covers to glare at his friend who was trembling on the floor.
“Ren, I told you not to.”
“I...” Mihashi said, steeling himself, fists clenched tight on his thighs. “I d- don’t think A...Abe-kun...knows...w...what is...best...for him...r...right now!”
“Mihashi, get out.”
“A-Abe-kun--!”
“Out! Out of my house!”
“Please!” Mihashi said, mustering the courage to stand up. He almost backed down, almost took it back. Don’t make me leave. I won’t call anyone, okay? he almost said.
But he couldn’t. This was too important.
“I don’t care if you hate me!” Mihashi shouted. And Abe was stunned, face twisting in a way Mihashi had never quite seen before-- at least-- he didn’t think he had seen before, because he wasn’t sure he was even seeing it clearly now, through his tears.
“But I’m going to get someone to talk to you, even if it makes you hate me!”
Mihashi’s hand clenched around the key-- Abe’s house key-- his one, precious link to this world his friend was suffering in. He’d defend it if he had to. He wouldn’t let Abe take it away.
But all of a sudden, Abe was crying. Abe was crying, and Mihashi didn’t know what to do. He’d never seen Abe cry. In the three days since the death was announced, Abe hadn’t cried.
It was almost a relief.
Mihashi stumbled forward and kneeled next to the bed. He took Abe’s hand, and he let Abe cry.
It lasted over an hour. Mihashi suspected he wasn’t just crying over the loss, but over a lot of other things, too. It was sad, but something about it made Ren happy. Happy to be here, to be the one to be with him.
Mihashi loved him so much. That was the most frightening thing of all.