Chapter Text
There was no way this wasn’t a scam, he thought while eyeing the building warily. But nope, the note he brought with him matched the address listed. Which begged the question why Osamu was standing in front of a three-story tall building with his destination being set to the top floor on a Sunday morning. Were they even open on Sundays?
Then again, it was too late to go back now, and he was already there. This was a terrible decision. But then the whole one hour drive there would be useless.
“Oh screw it,” he cursed and pushed open the door, darting directly to his left towards the stairs and hoping no one in the lower floors saw him.
The stairway was narrow and a bit steep. To his surprise, there was a full flight of steps that didn’t stop at the second floor either. It went all the way to the top and led to a black door. No going back for real now. He breathed in a deep sigh and pushed it open, bell chiming above his head. Anticlimactically, there seemed to be no one in there.
He was right, this was a terrible decision, really .
Seeing as there was no one there, he could easily leave and pretend this didn’t happen. But even so, if this fairly shady looking and sounding shop had what he wanted, he’d have to come back eventually. It couldn't hurt to scout it out first, right? Hesitantly, he stepped one foot inside.
“Your health, your time, or your lifespan?”
He yelped, “Who the fuck?” A stranger appeared right in front of him. And by that, he meant right in front, like directly staring down at him. Like inches apart. Like uncomfortably close for a first encounter. “Woah woah where’d ya come from?”
The man stepped back, waving it off playfully. “Does it matter? Come on in.”
Suspicious, but he doubted he could run from it now. After all, he was already spotted. “Yah it does matter, ya almost scared the life outta me.” He eventually stepped in after the man.
“Well then you wouldn’t have any lifespan to sell. Pity.”
So he had found the right place it seems. The store was vacant unless you counted empty glass displays as decoration. Terrible taste really. The stranger had moved over to the far counter and Osamu just assumed he was the store employee at that point. He gave the man a once over: dark brown hair parted in the center and fanning out on the sides, piercings on both ears, emerald colored eyes, a grey sweater hanging loosely over a slouched figure and normal black jeans.
Osamu huffed. “Oi, are ya supposed to be scarin’ yer potential customers away?”
“No, but do I care?” A nonchalant stare. “This isn’t a business. It’s not like we have loads of money lying around in the backroom for whenever. That would be ridiculous.”
Something about the way the employee spoke was unnerving. Maybe it was the excessive sarcasm, but that made no sense considering he’d grown up with sarcastic comments. There was definitely something else off about this man that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, a sense of mysteriousness. Or maybe it was the whole shop’s energy. “Whatever, I’ll sell my health.” He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.
An eyebrow raise, “Interesting. I took you for another lifetime seller.”
“Nah, my brother would kill me if I did that.” Very true, even though that was counterintuitive to kill someone for that, never underestimate dumb sibling rivalry. “But wait, before ya do anything, I have some questions.
“Of course you do, shoot them.”
He frowned but nonetheless gave his first question, “If my health deteriorates, does that mean my lifespan will too?”
“Nope, you’ll just be miserable till the day you die.”
“Morbid.” He grimaced. Not the funnest thought to have on this fine fine day.
“It’s part of the job.”
He couldn’t tell if that was sarcasm anymore. Or really dark humor. Ugh, it gave him the chills. None of this made sense, to be honest it could still be a scam. But then again, he wasn't paying money for this, so what harm was there in believing for a bit. “But like how ya know? Like how does y’all determine when Imma die?”
“I don’t know, it just knows bits and pieces of our lives. Don’t dig too deep into fatalism, it’s pointless. Take it at face value and know you can have money.” The employee pointed at the computer screen, repeating “It just knows .”
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t a bit curious about his lifespan. Yet it sounded like something a little too good to be true-- feeling similar to how he would react to a fortune telling. “So that thing tells you how long I’ll live?” His voice was laced in skepticism even though he was trying to believe it.
“Yup, want to know how long you have? It’s not necessary for health deals but I can still pull it up for you.” Before Osamu could even confirm or deny that choice, the man was already clicking something on that computer; he reacted with the slightest twitch at the number on the screen. A good or bad sign?
“Nah, I’m better off not knowing.” The easy way out.
“Well, your secret’s safe with me then. Now that I have your page open, Miya Osamu, shall we sell your health?” A sly grin. He knew it was a cheap card, they both knew. He either had to put full trust in this man because how else would his name be known, or continue to fake obliviousness. Or the third option, nod and go along with it.
“Your body seems to be in very good shape, don’t take that the wrong way, and your health should sell for quite a bit. Hm, the system says it’ll sell for xxx amount. Will that be acceptable?” Catching the numbers made his jaw drop. He must’ve done something to signify he agreed because the man continued, “Very well, sign here confirming you agree to the deal, good thanks and that’s it. Let me get you a card and you’re good to go.”
The employee stifled a yawn as he went over to a shelf and pulled out a box from seemingly nowhere. When he reached upwards, Osamu realized the man was much taller than he thought, taller than him in fact. And while he was mentally taking note of that, his mind drifted off until the golden card was thrown towards his face which he caught with ease despite it catching him off guard.
Osamu’s protests were cut off as he was escorted towards the door.
“Have a nice day, sir.”
What a fucking asshole, he thought bitterly as he pocketed the card and made his way out, frustrated at the encounter but what’s done was done. Though he didn’t feel any significant changes to his health quite yet, he couldn’t say if that was a good or bad thing. Nor did he know the legitimacy of the card, even though it did look like any other credit card.
Well, whatever. If it really was fake, he was going back and demanding a refund or something. Yeah, that. And like that, the idea left his mind...till the very next day.
No one explained that he would be woken up at the crack of down by his doorbell being pressed way more than socially acceptable. Groaning, he attempted to shield himself from the noise by curling the pillow around his ears. When it still didn’t stop, he angrily stormed over and swung the door open. “Tsumu ya know where the damn fuckin’ spare keys are, shut up would ya?!”
But unless his brother finally found some common sense and stopped dyeing his hair an atrocious yellow, that wasn’t Atsumu. He locked eyes with the man right as the doorbell rang again. Faux anger turned into genuine panic. “Hah?! What are ya doing here?! This is my house?!”
“Oh I know, the computer told me that much. What, you thought I’m a door to door salesman type of person, bothering random nobodies?” Not unlikely, Osamu mentally responded but didn't have the energy to voice. He groaned again, pinching himself to make sure it wasn’t a dream. Nope, that hurt just as much as it usually did.
“So what are ya doing here?”
The man completely ignored him as he sidestepped Osamu with grace that was basically inhuman to his early morning comprehension. “Nice house.” Much to Osamu’s bewilderment, the man made himself at home, throwing a bag on the couch and walking in like he owned the place.
Finally, he snapped out his daze and chased after the stranger. “I don’t even know ya? Why are ya even here? At this hour?”
“Suna.” The man finally stopped to face him. “My name’s Suna.”
“No first name?”
Suna scowled at the remark, “I don’t think you need it.”
“Oh alright, Suna , you still haven’t told me why yer here? On my property? Isn't this trespassing or something?” Suna rolled his eyes, which was fairly offensive considering Osamu meant it as a legitimate question. “Oi, I’ve asked like twenty questions and have gotten zero answers despite you being the one that woke me up. See the problem?”
A yawn as Suna fell back onto the couch. “Nope.”
It was way too early for this. His brain was hardly awake and ready for an argument right then and there. Seeing as his (hopefully temporary) guest wasn’t going anywhere soon, he settled to go to the kitchen and make something to wake him up.
He went about making something simple for breakfast: some toast and eggs. It was easy but at least it kept his mind off of whatever went down minutes ago.
And when he finally thought he had peace and silence, sitting down to eat his breakfast at the table, he was joined by Suna. He raised an eyebrow but went back to eating, deciding he might as well ignore any more provocations by focusing his gaze on the food.
“Oh by the way, I’ll be observing you until you’re comfortable with your new health and stop being a safety hazard to the world. A few months probably.”
He choked on his food. “And yer telling me this now?!”
“It was in the long ass contract you definitely didn’t read, am I right?” Osamu shot up and slammed his hands against the table. Yeah, that was spot on, but not like he’d ever admit it. But it wasn’t his fault there was a specific employee at the shop that made him want to leave as soon as possible which then caused him to skim the details. “I’m always right, no need to answer.”
“Ya--” Osamu pointed an accusing finger at Suna. “Have been nothing but an ass since ya got here. So fuck off so I can eat my breakfast.”
But out of nowhere, a piece of toast appeared in Osamu’s vision and much to his further dismay, was being held between Suna’s fingers. With that telltale smirk, Suna took a bite, “You mean this breakfast? Quite tasty if I dare say so myself.”
“What the?! Where?!” Osamu spluttered, instinctively reaching to grab the bread back but stopped as soon as he realized there was no way he was going to enjoy a half-eaten piece of toast. Well, there goes breakfast. Surprisingly, it didn’t bother him as much as he expected, maybe he was still tired, but he just admitted defeat and sat back down. “Fine. Be that way.”
“What way?”
“Come in here like ya own the place, sure why not. Ya know what, I have a spare bed, go ahead and take the guest room. Since yer staying a while, we might as well not get off on the wrong foot. We’ll pretend we’re like roommates, alright? Casual.”
Suna stared him right in the eyes and finally nodded.
“Great,” Osamu concluded, getting back up, throwing the dishes into the sink despite his half empty stomach, and leading Suna to the spare room in that order. It was a bit of a mess considering Atsumu was the one that normally crashed there, but it’ll do. “I’ll leave ya to it.”
“Wait, where’s your room?”
He faltered, but even so, for once Suna seemed to be asking for real. “Upstairs, second door to the left. Door’s normally open.”
“Thanks.”
Osamu hung back for a bit, not sure if he should leave. For someone who was such, to bluntly put it, a jerk moments ago, that last question sounded like a completely different person. It was the same unnerving feeling he felt when going into the store. Like at one moment, he had a perception of who Suna was supposed to be and the next moment it was gone. “If you need anything else, um... come drop by.”
A soft laugh. Osamu turned, startled at the sound but was caught right in a trap when he realized Suna had lifted up his phone, “By the way, smile.” Osamu hardly registered the words when he heard the shutter go off.
“Oi, what the hell?”
Suna smirked, which he had no right doing by the way. “Nothing, just needed a picture to start my collection. Nice face by the way,” Suna joked knowing full well the photo was not a good one. He smirked, “It’s part of the job.”
“Liar,” Osamu grumbled and tried to grab the phone only to jump, miss by a few centimeters, and fall back down onto wobbly legs. Unfamiliar to this, he toppled forward, taking Suna down with him. Luckily, they were right by the bed. Unluckily, well everything else.
He fell with an oof, air crashing into his lungs all at once. He gulped when he realized how compromising their position was; if anyone had entered at that moment, they would surely get the wrong impression. And despite their faces being so close together, comparable to how close they were at the doorstep of the shop, Suna looked unfazed, intrigued if anything. In the corner of his vision, he saw a hand reach towards his face, half of him wanted to instinctively pull away but half of him couldn’t move.
A freezing hand found its way to his forehead and rested there for a moment, knuckles grazing his eyebrows. “You seem alright for now. Need help getting up?”
“Huh?” Osamu stammered, “Um, no, I’m alright.” He got up, hiding the embarrassment on his face by turning away and rushing towards the door.
“Mhmm. It’s not uncommon for you to feel a little disorientated after selling your health. I was checking if you had a fever, that normally happens too. Be careful and let me know if anything bothers you.” Suna commented smoothly.
He definitely was caught off guard by his lack of balance, that was it, he rationalized. Of course that was it, and only that. For fucks sake, what was he thinking? Osamu forgot what he said after, probably something incredibly dumb considering his mind was not cooperating with his mouth that moment and dashed back to his room. As soon as the door shut, he slid down his wall, groaning into his hands.
“I fucked up didn’t I?”
“Yah, ya really are dumb.”
Osamu scowled and hung up. Leave it to Atsumu to be completely and utterly useless in situations like this. Not that it was an everyday situation. Okay sure, yes he was right in this case but if selling your health for money and inviting a stranger to live with you was a bad idea, then yes he’s guilty as charged for a bad decision. Arguably, the even worse decision he made was to call Atsumu in an effort to vent but was greeted by an insult.
He grumbled something incomprehensible under his breath and slumped down into the couch, throwing his hood over his head and scrolling through social media.
“Are you always this grouchy in the morning?” Suna stood by the doorway, clearly just getting out of the shower by the looks of his still damp hair. How did he find the shower? Well who knows. He was pulling a sweater over his head and Osamu caught a glimpse of what laid under it: a formal white collar shirt with golden designs he couldn’t quite make out. “Because if you are, I might as well never talk to you before noon.”
“No...maybe... sometimes...”
“So yes?”
“Not always, I just called my brother and he’s a pain in the ass, that’s why,” Osamu protested knowing full well he was not a morning person. At least until he got a sufficient amount of coffee or tea alongside a full meal in his stomach. “As long as ya don’t wake me at weird ass times, I’ll be fine. Emphasis on that, Mr. Knock at the crack of dawn.”
Suna hummed and flopped down next to him. “Your twin brother?”
“Ya know about him?”
“The system told me a bit about you. Felt like something important to read up on, hope that’s not too intrusive.” Osamu snorted at that. Now he was worrying about being intrusive after waltzing in here? “What? It’s not funny.”
Osamu grinned, swinging his legs up so he rested horizontally on the couch. “Yah it is.”
“No. Besides the point. Let’s get down to the actual housekeeping part of things. Assuming you didn’t read the contact I’ll give you a rundown?” Osamu shifted his feet so they laid on top of Suna’s thighs which earned him an eyebrow raise but no comments. Suna took out his phone and began to read: “Alright, first things first, your health will deteriorate slowly over the first week to month and then stabilize, imagine losing maximum hearts in an RPG game. Considering you were in pretty good health beforehand, I’d assume you’re an athlete right?”
“Was. I used to play volleyball.”
A fleeting emotion passed through Suna’s eyes but quickly was extinguished. “Right. Because you had a high health initially, the damage shouldn’t affect your daily life too much. No permanent hospitalizations or anything, if anything maybe take a few more vitamins and extra caution. Once you get used to your new health, this will end. I’ll go back to my job and you go about your day with the money you got from selling your health.”
“Really? It’s that easy to get this much money?” Osamu pulled the golden card out of his pocket, running his finger over the imprints.
“I would not say it’s easy, but yes. The card works like any other credit card, input it in a machine and it’ll work automatically and charge off it. If you want to check the balance, ask me. The shop specializes in strange trades like such.”
How peculiar, he thought. “Trades, hm? Then why do you work there?”
Suna pursed his lips and crossed his arms, “I’m somewhat similar to you, but I sold my time. That’s how I ended up working for the shop and I guess observing people.”
“Oh, yer also like me? Needed the money?” Honestly, was he curious about it or just wanted to know any tidbit of information he could about Suna? Who knew?
“No, I had my own reasons to sell my time, but I went into it knowing what it’s like. When someone sells their time, they cease to exist to the world outside customers of the shop. Only customers of the shop can see me, so if anyone were to come by, say your brother, they would see you talking to no one.”
Osamu leaned back and imagined that scenario. No matter how many times he ran that simulation in his head, it never ended in his favor. “Well that’s awkward.”
“So what about you, why did you need the money?”
“Um, I need the money to pay for my brother to go pro. He also plays volleyball and our family doesn’t have the means to send him out there, even though he’s sincerely good. And I guess that’s been his dream since forever. He’s kinda like those one-track mind typa guys.”
Suna narrowed his eyes until there was barely the faintest glimmer of green in those slits, “That’s it? I don’t take you as the selfless type.”
“What do ya know about me?” Osamu defended glaring right back at Suna.
Neither budged from their staring contest for a good minute, neither wanting to admit they were wrong. Stubborn to a fault. Suna finally spoke up, condescendingly, “Fair enough. But I still call bullshit. If you’re seriously dumb enough to sell your health for someone else, my perception of you is going to drop to the floor.”
“Who says I care about what ya think about me?” he shot back.
“Fine,” Suna drawled out, cutting whatever tension there was. Though it didn’t sound like the argument was over. “But for the record, I don’t care what you think of me either.”
“Well if you don’t care, then I’ll just say I find you absolutely lovely. ”
He tapped Suna’s leg with his toes, watching for any facial reaction. Too bad Suna was well acquainted with these tactics as he was because there was no reaction whatsoever. If he did react, Osamu would be able to call out his prior statement. Pity, other than the fact it meant they were on the same wavelength. “Nice try.”
Osamu snorted, using his momentum to bounce off the couch and stand up. He brushed off his pants for dramatic effect, “Whatever do ya mean? I wasn’t planning anything.”
“I simply think it’s embarrassing that I’ve only known you for one day and I already see through all your ploys; you really should never try acting.”
“Fine, if ya think ya can read me so well, what am I thinking about now?”
“Lunch?” Silence. “I’m right, aren’t I? Hah, simple-minded.”
A measured breath, then passive-aggressively, “So what do you want for lunch, Suna .”
“Suna, Suna, Suna.” He knocked twice for every time he repeated the name. “Oi, it’s like the middle of the day, whatcha doing with the door locked. Don’t tell me yer committing a crime in my house. Hey, open up. Suna? Suna?”
Still no response. “Ya know I have the keys right? This is my apartment.”
Another few minutes of standing around, feet tapping impatiently by the door until he gave in and went to get the keys. He swung the door open and found a lump under the blankets. Who the hell sleeps in the middle of the day like this? And who the hell slept so deep they couldn't hear the door? Amused, he snuck up behind the bed and pounced on the pile.
A grunt. “Fucker.”
“Look at that, guess who’s awake.” Osamu joked, poking Suna’s shoulder. “What are ya, nocturnal? Whatcha do at night then?”
“Huh?” Suna sat up, blankets falling off his shoulders and pooling around his torso. He blinked wearily at Osamu and pulled out an earbud. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you... How did you even get in here? Didn’t I lock the door?”
Oh. Well that’s awkward. “Ya must’ve forgotten. Whatcha doing here?”
“Minding my own business until someone came in.” He raised an eyebrow, as if indicating that there was nothing more to say. Osamu didn’t budge, continuing to peer at Suna innocently. The latter sighed in defeat, sliding his phone and earbuds to the nightstand.
“Whatcha listening to?”
Suna shot back his own question, “Nothing. It’s lunch, shouldn’t you be eating?”
“Nah, yer not eating either.” Osamu eyed the bowls of instant noodles in the trash. “At least not proper food. Plus, I’m not hungry.”
“Mhmm, that seems like an excuse you’re using a lot. Never mind, what do you need?”
He almost forgot the whole reason he was there. “Oh yeah, I wanna ask ya something about the money. Um, the shop thing.”
“Right,” Suna’s voice became business formal, “How can I help you?”
“Ya remember how I told ya last week how I needed the money for my brother, yeah? Well, um, I figured it would be weird to explain to him how I got the money so I was thinkin’ if there’s any way we, um I, can get it to him anonymously. Like from a sponsorship or somethin’ lowkey and make him think it’s not suspicious.”
“That can be arranged,” Suna said after a moment. “Yes, I can send in the request and figure out the details. How much money would you like transferred?”
Osamu scooted towards Suna, legs fidgeting under him and shaking the mattress. “Um, half of my card. Maybe a little more.”
A hand reached over to rest itself over his leg. The shaking came to a halt. “That’s quite a hefty amount of money. Are you sure about this?” A nod. “Then don’t worry, I’ll do my best to get it done. Though I have no guarantee how fast it’ll be. Might take a while.” Without his knowledge, Suna’s other hand had pulled the blankets up over his legs too.
“No problem, I trust ya. Thanks, Suna.”
“Your trust is misplaced. I have no worth over the shop; it does all the work, not me. If you continue to have such high expectations of me, it’ll surely serve to disappoint.” Suna frowned, as if disappointed by his own words. He felt eyes scan him up and down. “Anything else?” Osamu shook his head. “Has your health been alright? If anything happens, tell me, I’m here for you.”
“Aw, I always knew ya cared about me,” Osamu chirped, slinking down in the comfort of the bed until everything but his head was covered by the blanket.
“You know it’s not like that. It’s just part of the job.”
Osamu stuck out his tongue. “I’ve got nothing to tell ya. I’ve been doing fine, great really. If only I knew it was this easy to sell off my health, I would’ve done it long ago.”
Suna looked amused at how he was curled up under the blankets, but his tone retained a sense of seriousness. “It’s been a week, be careful. The effects aren’t linear, they can appear randomly and take a major hit.”
“I’m fine,” Osamu murmured, admittedly getting a little drowsy in the bed. He yawned to keep his eyes open. “I promise ya. Promise, Suna.”
He really drifted off after that, tugging the blankets to wrap around him. He was never one to nap, but it was too comfy there. Maybe it was his imagination but he swore he felt a feather light touch run across his face before he completely fell asleep, but the dream was quickly shattered when he woke to an empty room.
Other than that, everything was shockingly normal. In public, Osamu made sure to ignore the fact there was a second person next to him. Which wasn’t the hardest thing to do considering Suna wandered off half the time to who knows where. Still doing a shit job as an observer if he wasn’t observing but not like that affected him.
Either way, Suna always found his way back perfectly when Osamu was paying (when asked about it, Suna smirked and said it was a trade secret and despite Osamu’s suspicions, none could be confirmed). The first few times Suna popped by was to check if the card worked, which it did, and from that point on he only trailed back around due to curiosity, peeking into his grocery basket to catch a glimpse of what was inside, which was mostly food to be honest.
“I’ll catch up to you.”
“Alright, catch ya later.” He nodded towards a store, “I’ll be in there.”
He briefly watched the faded sweater slip into the crowd before averting his eyes to not come off as creepy. The few times he did catch where Suna was going did amuse him though.
It always surprised Osamu how docile Suna was in public, because while his initial perception of the other was a complete ass, Suna was metaphorically a curious kitten when exploring around the town. His favorite was when Suna would take advantage of the fact he didn’t exist to walk straight into the display cases. Typically, that would be seen as probably illegal or something but from the looks of it, Suna only did it to admire the composition. Weirdly endearing.
Another weird thing he saw Suna doing once was organizing part of the snack aisle. Well somewhat straightening the display and partially shifting the tags so they aligned with the actual food, the minor things people hardly notice. The things not even convenience store workers are paid enough to do.
And while he had initially gone to pick up a few chips, he found Suna crouching down and muttering something about how someone dares mix the milk and dark chocolate locations. Now that’s a once in a lifetime chance. No way was he letting this blackmail get away.
In the moment, Osamu lifted his phone to snap a photo but the sound of his footsteps must’ve alerted the other. Suna realized quickly enough, grabbing a hold of Osamu’s wrist and twisting it around till his arm was locked behind his back.
“Taking pictures of other people? How creepy,” Suna mocked.
“Says you?!”
His back was turned to the other, but he knew Suna was smiling innocently, that jerk. What he would give to wipe that smug smile off his face. That’s beside the point. “I was um...,” C’mon brain find an excuse that isn’t creepily specific or anything, “wondering if ya show up in pictures?”
“Yes, I do. What do you think I am? A vampire?”
Well too late now to change the excuse. “No, nope not at all, just wonderin’ since ya don’t really exist to people do ya?”
“It's literally like the norm, you will be able to see me through a photo, other people won’t,” Suna said monotonously, “Now are you done talking to yourself in the middle of the grocery store? You know you look insane right?”
“Fuck, right, just continue doing yer organizin’ thing, I’ll be on my way.”
“Mhmm, dumbass. Don’t get too much junk food again by the way.”
“Whatever.”
Osamu turned on his heels, marching out of the aisle with way too much force in his steps. As soon as he made sure Suna wasn’t following, he slipped behind a shelf, sliding the shopping basket down to the crook of his arm and whipped out his phone and went to his photos. Unfortunately, almost all the photos were blurry. But, he anticipated this much and was smart enough to hold down the burst feature. With glee, he found one picture in perfect focus.
And with that they were on even playing ground for the first photo Suna took of him.
Although later, after he left his phone on his nightstand one night, he found the picture miraculously vanished. And when he questioned Suna about it he got this response:
“Maybe don’t write your phone password down on a post-it and put it on your desk.”
“...when did ya get into my room?!” Ignored. “Hey that was my one picture, give it back, it’s not fair ya have a picture of me and I have nothing of ya.”
Suna had the audacity to laugh at his face for that. “One picture? One?”
“I can’t believe you.”
“Seeing is believing.” Osamu stuck out his tongue, clearly mourning the loss of his efforts. “Come on, there’s nothing to be pouty about. I don’t exist, I’m not going to share your pictures with people because I can’t."
Osamu crossed his arms, hugging them closer and tucking his chin in at the same time. Suna gave him a dismissive wave. “Plus, even if you have a photo of me, what does that do for you? If you show it to people, they think you’re crazy. I do it more so to keep track of the people I observe.”
“Ya always take pictures of the people ya observe?” A nod. “How many has that been?”
Surprised, Suna took a moment to consider the number. “I won’t tell you an exact number because I don’t quite remember, but quite a few. More than five.” He got up suddenly, stretching his arms out and rolling his neck, “That’s enough for now, I’ll be heading back to my room to sleep. Good night, Osamu.”
“G’night.” It was clear that Suna was avoiding the topic. For what reasons, Osamu wasn’t sure. It wouldn’t be fair to prod, but since he still hasn’t gotten any grasp of who Suna was. Maybe he began to see little patterns that pointed him in a direction, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. Mysterianism, some things will always be unknown. How the shop operated was one of those things. But did Suna also fall under that concept?
It proved to be a puzzle he was set to solve.
Two weeks in, he was feeling great about his choice. A little more tired than usual, a tad bit off balance, sure. But was it worth it to get the money and send his annoying brother away-- correction to help his brother go pro-- yes. For sure. Without a doubt.
To no one’s surprise, he spoke too soon.
Sunday night, he had come home from his workout and went to take a shower. As many times as he had tried to get Suna to go on runs with him, he was always rejected. The excuse was always “It’s too late, why do you go when the sun’s out? It’s too cold for me” and that much was true but Osamu found the night more calming. Plus, he never was awake before the sun came up and after that it became a pain when people were roaming the streets and the sun was burning on his skin.
The point was that it was a fairly chilly day, the tips of his ears bright pink and the air forming tiny puffs of air whenever he exhaled. Clearly he was relieved when he got home and into the shower. The warm water began running down his back and steamed up the glass.
And because it was so comforting, he sat down there, letting his skin soak in the water far longer than necessary. Ever so slowly, his blinks slowed and he felt like he was having an out of body experience. The water no longer felt like it had a temperature, just numbing.
Out of fear, he jolted up, shutting off the shower and fingers blindly reaching for a towel. He felt sluggish, like there was a weight pulling him down. His vision was rapidly being wiped, each blink adding more and more cloudiness. Flashes of light and then dark and then too much. His skin burned; resting his forehead on the counter only gave him brief relief, enough to pull on a pair of shorts and attempt to stumble out. By then, everything was swaying, spinning. He felt nauseous. He couldn’t feel his arms, were they even there.
If he even made it past the door, he didn’t quite remember. All he remembered doing was spotting someone on the couch running towards him and saying something like “fuck, I’m feeling lightheaded” before he blacked out.
Suna looked up to the sound of the door slamming against the wall, which was odd enough as Osamu hated that noise. His suspicions only grew when he saw Osamu walk out of the bathroom without a shirt, wobbling. Realizing the problem, he threw his phone and lunged towards the other.
“Osamu?” he called out frantically, grasping the other’s arm. Panic swelled in his stomach, his brain struggling to keep up and form some sort of plan, “I’m going to pull you to the bed, stay with me alright? You’re going to be fine.”
“Mmm.”
For a split second, his mind demanded he turn to find something to dry Osamu off, but before he knew it, there was a sickening thump on the floor. Mentally he cursed himself for messing up, for not prioritizing him. He turned back around to see Osamu collapsed on the floor. Suna choked on his words, falling to his knees next to Osamu. His body no longer followed his orders, going on autopilot and reaching to check for a pulse and breathing.
Luckily the vitals seemed alright. “Fuck, shit, what the hell,” Suna muttered in stress, propping Osamu up against one arm and slipping the other behind Osamu’s knees then proceeded to pick him up. He grunted under the weight but luckily the bed was in sight and he threw the other on. What the hell was wrong?
Now wasn’t the time to wonder where it went wrong, he scolded himself, swinging himself onto the bed and kneeling next to Osamu.
His hands curled into the blankets and he waited desperately for any sign. Any sign that he was alright. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to help him. What if he didn’t wake up? Several tense moments passed until he saw Osamu’s eyelashes begin to flutter.
“Osamu, Osamu, can you hear me,” he repeated, tapping Osamu’s shoulders.
“Ugh...”
Something. It was something. He continued to grip Osamu, hating how much his hands shook. He was probably holding on harder than he should’ve. “Can you see me?” Osamu groaned again. Desperately, “Osamu, please .”
Osamu’s lips moved just a fraction to say, “I’m fine.” A hand reached up to lightly brush Suna’s and he repeated, “I’m fine.” His eyes cracked open, squinting, “It’s alright.”
Suna bit his lip, stopping him from breaking down. “Don’t get up for now. Are you cold?” He didn’t wait for a reply anyway, using his non occupied hand to grab the corner of the blanket and wrapping around Osamu as best as he could. Halfway through, he glanced up to Osamu who had his eyes covered with his arm, but underneath that, a smile. Why are you smiling? He wanted to ask, but not now. Instead:
“You fucking fainted on me, don’t you dare do that again.”
“Can’t help it, I sold my health didn’t I?” Suna grimaced at that, squeezing Osamu’s hand in response. “C’mon, don’t look so sad, yer supposed to be taking care of me. What happened to my pain in the ass observer?”
He had to scoff at that, “What nonsense.”
“I’m fine now, can I sit up?” Osamu’s eyes twinkled mischievously, as if he didn’t just pass the fuck out. With the help of Suna’s arm, they managed to maneuver the two of them towards the headpost so that Osamu could lean on that. But despite that, of course the spoiled brat decided to lean on Suna’s chest instead. Sighing, Suna let him be, running a hand through the still wet hair in an attempt to detangle it before it dried.
Osamu leaned closer to the contact, like a cat being pet. “Ya know, my knees kinda hurt, why’s that hm? They’re gonna be bruised probably.”
Suna’s hand stopped mid stroke, guiltily averting his eyes. “You...kind of fell?”
“Ya really let me fall on the ground? Pain, all I know is pain.”
“I’m glad you can now banter and are feeling that much better.” Suna replied sarcastically with the slightest hint of relief. He wasn’t sure if Osamu caught on to that at all, but it was much softer than he’d ever given anyone. “So yes, I sort of let you fall. What of it?”
Osamu snorted, “There’s no ‘sort of’ here please I literally fell?!”
His lips lifted at that, not that anyone could see. “What can I say? Whoops?”
“Aren’t ya supposed to take care of me or something?”
“Then what am I doing now?” Suna shot back, shifting back a bit to tease Osamu’s position. He got an angry head butt directed at his palm because of that, but worth it. “Plus, I never said I was good at my job. The shop doesn’t screen for qualifications, I’m pretty sure.” Suna leaned forward to peer into Osamu’s eyes, “Plus, you're still alive?”
“...why are ya like this?” Osamu scooted away with mock fear in his facial expression. Regardless, it was good to see he was able to support his own weight while sitting. His eyes darted towards the clock. “It’s late isn’t it? Ya should sleep.”
It wasn’t that late, but Osamu was right, rest was the most important thing right now. Seeing how quick he had recovered, Suna assumed the problem had something to do with Osamu’s blood pressure. But he couldn’t be sure. Only thing he could do now was take precautions to prevent it again. “I’ll stay here for the night, monitor your condition. I’ll bring the pillows up along with some snacks. Sit still.”
“Gotcha. I won’t move an inch.” He stared awkwardly for a moment until Osamu gave him a quick thumbs up and snapped him back to his task. Suna headed down, grabbing a whole armful of blankets and then realizing he miscalculated, dropped everything, then headed to grab the snacks out of the cabinets and re-pile everything up in his arms and go up. Was it safe to go up the steps with blankets looming over your vision? No, but efficiency.
As promised, Osamu hadn’t moved a bit like he was a wax figure. Once he noticed Suna, however, he came back to life, animatedly bouncing on the bed.
His attempt at attention was ultimately ignored as Suna set up his sleep area in the corner, tossing the blankets haphazardly that it hardly sufficed as a place to sleep. He threw the snacks onto the nightstand and finally after all that, turned to Osamu. “Sleep. Good night.”
Two minutes into flipping off the lights, the bed creaked. Once. And then twice. And then a not so hushed whisper. “Are ya asleep?” Suna sighed as if to ask what it looked like. “I can’t sleep. Body’s still in shock. Tell me a bedtime story.”
“I don’t have any stories.”
Another creak and the nightlight turned on, casting soft shadows on Osamu’s face. He unknowingly turned to watch. “Then tell me about yerself.”
Just this once, he compromised mentally. “What do you want to know?”
“Whatcha always listening to?”
“Nothing in particular, I just don’t like when it's too quiet.”
“So ya enjoy my company.”
A foolish conclusion he wanted to say, but since he was being nice today. “I never said that. Although that statement is not entirely false.”
“What else? Why’d ya sell yer time?”
His gaze broke from Osamu’s face and began to focus on the ceiling, a dark mass without any texture. He let the question sit there for a bit, almost wondering if Osamu had fallen asleep before answering. “I sold my time because I could. Had nothing better going for me and I was good at keeping track of people I guess. Only one more question.”
“Mhmm. Why do ya always wear the same sweater?” His voice was getting drowsy.
Suna scrunched his nose. Bold accusation. He does his own laundry, thank you very much. “I don’t, I cycle through a few though they all appear the same. I use them to cover the shop’s uniform. I’m not quite fond of it. That’s it. Get some rest now. I’ll be here when you wake.”
“Ya won’t leave like last time?”
He racked his brain to find what ‘last time’ Osamu spoke up but pulled a blank. “...I don’t plan to.” He spoke the last line to the empty expanse of the ceiling. Almost certain Osamu was asleep by then, he added to himself. “Not yet.”
In the following days, other than the fact he was put under much stricter rules, their days went on. Suna kept a much tighter track of Osamu, following him even in the supermarket and stood guard outside the bathroom whenever he went in. Osamu teasingly invited him in once to wash his back but he quickly took it back based on Suna’s expression.
The supervision included his bedroom where Suna had moved his temporary set up to the corner. Osamu felt a little bad to leave Suna sleeping on the floor but it was his choice, he could always go back downstairs. And convinced it was a lifestyle concern, Suna also reworked his diet, sleep and exercise schedule.
“Eat three times a day, at least eight hours of sleep, earlier jogs.”
“What are ya? My mom?” Suna rolled his eyes but refused to let Osamu escape the routine.
The most humiliating part was the few days after he fainted, he was considered too much of a safety hazard and was forced to be assisted up and down the stairs--Suna’s grip finding home at the bend of Osamu’s elbow. He wasn’t that clumsy, okay? Plus, not like the first nor last time he’d fall down the stairs, but well Suna doesn’t need to know that.
Suna also insisted he pay a visit to his doctor which he did and found something about blood pressure, blah blah medical stuff. Either way, he was advised not to do anything too strenuous and take some vitamins.
Well that aside, he didn’t mind Suna’s so-called helicopter parenting. After all, it came from good intentions and he actually enjoyed Suna’s presence more than he expected. He had company for meals and got to experiment new dishes on him. Plus, despite Suna nagging him to eat healthier, that was pretty hypocritical seeing how much instant food Suna ate.
(It’s convenient, he said.)
He also got Suna to go out jogging with him which was a plus since those used had begun to feel monotonous. Not that Suna was great entertainment because he focused on his music more than small talk and that was fine with Osamu. Especially after one too many scoldings that he would look like a crazy person chatting to the air.
And maybe he got a little too cocky and used his deteriorating health to have movie and game nights with the other.
“Suna, commere let’s play somethin’ tonight.”
“You can’t always use my constant presence to entertain your boredom.”
So yeah, Suna caught on soon enough but didn’t comment further, draping himself on the couch and lying horizontally so he was taking up most of the space. “What do you have in mind?”
Osamu rummaged around the games next to the TV. “Dunno, picking somethin’ at random.” Seeing how most of the disks were not labelled, that was true. He threw something in and hoped it wasn’t corrupted.
Once the game registered, he joined Suna on the couch and nudged him until he sat up and grabbed the remote. Despite the space open on the couch, he scooted right next to Suna. They didn’t talk about it but since that incident, they had grown closer. At first Osamu had assumed it was because they were spending more time together and that might be part of it but couldn’t explain how quickly it occurred.
With that time, he realized his view on Suna changed. Suna was no longer foreign to him. Ever since he saw that vulnerable face, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he wanted to worry about him like that. He was no longer the stranger that barged into his house and he only saw from time to time when he left the guest room, he was now a friend he was sharing a home with.
Truthfully, he wanted this routine to stick
“Are you going to start the game?”
“Huh? Right, on it.”
Suna snickered, “Ready to get your ass beat?” Osamu barely got the chance to open his mouth as Suna answered his own question “Of course not, no one prepares for that. But not like that’ll prevent it from happening.”
“Oi, someone’s overconfident.” Osamu raised his remote at the challenge and began the game. He cracked his knuckles for dramatic effect, twiddling his fingers around the buttons and as soon as the timer began counting down, steadied himself. And go.
They fought in the game till the alarm on Suna’s phone went off meaning it was his so-called curfew and he had to go to bed. He protested this for a few days and realized it was futile to complain and wrote it into his schedule--he no longer had to be dragged from what he was doing every day. Like today, he set down the remote and shut off the TV without being prompted, tilting his head towards Suna’s direction. But Suna was already gone, getting ready for the night.
His smile faltered.
“Samu, come over.”
“Whaddya want?” Osamu yawned, leaning his head to trap the phone between his ear and shoulder, leaving his hands free to mix some pancake batter. “What dumb thing did ya do this time, Tsumu? I really don’t need to know if ya--”
Some incoherent crashing from the other end of the line. “I didn’t do anythin’ at least not recently. Not important, just come over, I have news.”
“Sure, whatever. Later, like noon.” He hung up with no hesitation. Initially, he planned to find Suna to let him know, but with a quick glance to his right where Suna was leaning against the counter, it was clear he heard the whole conversation.
“Let’s go on a field trip,” Suna complained, “It'll be fun they said.”
“No one said ya had to come along?”
Suna snorted, pushing himself off the counter edge and joining Osamu by the stove. He poked a finger into the batter and licked it off, “You forget it’s my job to follow you.”
“Yah, but ya can stay in the car or something. My brother’s a pain in the ass, ya don’t wanna meet him.” He yanked the bowl away from Suna’s range and proceeded to make breakfast. “Also stop eating raw batter what the fuck.”
He stuck his tongue out. “Don’t act like you’ve never eaten cake batter. Plus, how bad can it be? Meeting your brother I mean, not eating raw batter. I don’t mind because he won't even know I exist. That sounds fun .”
“Yer definition of fun is weird.”
“Says you?” Suna snarked. “I’ll be a good guest, follow you in and stay by your side. Is that grounds for being not left in the parking lot? Hey, I’ll even wander around the house and find all his secrets if you want. I mean, blackmail material is never not appreciated.”
Osamu rolled his eyes. “Fine, yer welcome to follow. But bold of ya to assume I need blackmail. I have plenty of his dumb high school pining adventures saved.”
“And I’m guessing it goes both ways.”
“Hm? Nah, he doesn’t have much on me. He went after every other person back then I swear. Embarrassment. Me on the other hand, I guess I didn’t have that high school experience of crushin’ hard on someone y’know? Dated this one girl but guess she didn’t really like me since she said I was borin’ and cut it off after like a month,” Osamu mused, flipping the pancakes over. “What about ya? High school relationship? First kiss? Romance things?”
“I barely scraped by with the hours I needed to graduate. It’s a blur of faces and names that I’d probably fail to match,” Suna drawled. “I didn’t know anyone well enough to be friends, let alone like. Plus, dating wasn’t exactly on my agenda of things to do.”
Osamu hummed. “Right. Do ya want anything with yer pancakes?” In response, Suna scooped up his plate, stabbed a pancake with his fork and stared directly at Osamu as he took a bite. “Fine, fine, eat ‘em plain. Was just askin’ if ya wanted syrup or anythin’ but sure. Communicate that how you must.”
Suna finally looked away, “No, your pancakes are good enough as is.”
“Aw, is that a compliment?”
“Whatever pancake mix you used is good, that’s all I’m saying.” Osamu grinned awkwardly; better not let Suna know it was his own recipe, with added pizzazz of extra secret ingredients, but alright. Didn’t bother him since everyone else he knew used pancake mix and to be fair, it was easier for sure. “Anyhow, when are we going?”
He threw a glance at the wall clock. “Eh, like eleven? It’s a thirty minute drive or so. I’ll make us some lunch or something before we go.”
“Is that what people call stress cooking?”
“Oh shuddap, I’ll make some for ya too. I dunno what exactly yet, but I’ll figure that out later. Y’know, wing it till ya make it. Or was it fake it till ya make it. Same difference.”
Suna got up, taking his now empty plate with him. “You don’t have to make me anything.”
“An extra portion isn’t that much trouble, I insist.”
When his fork poked at his empty plate, Osamu also realized his breakfast had vanished. Did he really eat it that quickly? How time flew. He joined Suna by the sink, waiting in line to wash his plate and set it on the drying rack.
As promised, he went up to get ready, Suna by his side like usual, brushing his hair once through and throwing on whatever spare change of clothes he had, then went back to the kitchen to prepare something for lunch. Knowing Atsumu, he’d eat anything, but seeing as he wasn’t sure what he was being called over for, something that could probably keep his attention from a ramble also could be a viable option. He eventually settled on some noodles because to be fair, there was liquid in there and in the worst case scenario, he could settle his eyes on the bowl and use the excuse of not wanting to spill soup everywhere to avoid confrontation.
Not saying this is a good strategy, but when dealing with Atsumu it was always better to have some way out. Speaking from experience.
The broth was about ready by the smell. He dipped a ladle into there, bringing it up to his lips to blow on it and then take a sip. Tasted good to him. “Wanna try some?” He dipped the ladle back into the soup, lifting it up to Suna’s face. His offer was taken as Suna leaned over, his hand holding Osamu’s to tilt the ladle towards him. Osamu watched with rapt attention as Suna’s eyes fluttered closed and their hands moved towards those lips. Suna didn’t blow on it, and even though it must’ve been scorching hot, he acted like it was nothing.
“Tastes good to me.” Suna pulled away, scanning his face. He couldn’t imagine what it looked like from his perspective. He pursed his lips, “You good there?”
“Oh, yeah thanks.” Osamu stammered, biting the inside of his lip to stop him from rambling. Keep your thoughts to yourself he reprimanded his brain.
Suna stared at him, analytically, like he was a specimen. Unexpectedly, the same hand that was wrapped around his seconds prior reached up again, this time resting on Osamu’s head. He was about to ask about it but his neck was forcefully twisted towards the stove. “I might not know much about cooking, but maybe you should turn the fire off if it’s good.”
“Huh?” He looked down at the pot. As mentioned, the fire was on. He cursed, flipping the dial to the resting position, watching the fire flicker out. By the time he turned back, Suna already had his phone out and the telltale snap of a camera echoed in the room. “You fucker.”
Besides a mini-kitchen fight after that incident, the noodles turned out alright. They left the house on time and set off towards Atsumu’s apartment with Osamu driving and Suna in the passenger seat. On the way there Osamu gave a quick run through of Atsumu: the annoying one. Long story short, where there was one Miya twin, there was always the other until they recently moved out separately after high school as a chance to become independent. He was the one that insisted on it, on taking their own paths.
When they arrived there, the apartment was close in size to Osamu’s, though it seemed a little more cramped due to the differences in interior design. Osamu was the type to keep more open space in a minimalist way while Atsumu was set on displaying his achievements, clear by the trophies and awards hung up in the hallways.
As soon as he set their bowls of noodles down, Atsumu got straight to the point. A piece of mail was thrown in front of him. “Read it.”
At first, Osamu didn’t quite get it, opening it and skimming the contents. The first time he was confused by the numbers and names, the second time a light hand on his shoulder explained it. It was the sponsorship notice that Suna set up. The number on the page confirmed it, half of his health’s worth of money, printed there in ink. He numbly folded the paper back up into thirds and slipped it back into the envelope. He ran through his options quickly and settled on a flat, “Cool.”
“Arentcha excited?” Atsumu beamed like he just won the lottery, “Or are ya disappointed because it’s only me? Ya better catch up if ya wanna play next season. Don’t worry, we can find a place together with this money and--”
“About that...” Osamu interrupted, taking a deep breath and finally admitting, “I’m not playing next season.”
Atsumu’s eyes widened in disbelief, “Yer quitting?!”
“I can’t play anymore, Tsumu.” His eyes kept themselves trained on the bowl, chopsticks still tightly gripped in his hands. His mouth tasted bitter. “Sorry, I guess.”
Hands slammed against the table. The soup rippled out in his bowl, continuing to waver as Atsumu yelled at him, “Where is this coming from?! You. Ya were the one that said we’d live separately but see each other on the court. What happened to that?!”
“I dunno,” Osamu felt another pair of eyes boring into the back of his skull. Two pairs of eyes, one in front and one behind him, trapping him under their gaze. “I passed out earlier this month, the doctors said my blood pressure and shit are all over the place, I can’t put myself at risk like that.”
“No, fuck, you were fine a month ago. The last time I saw ya, everything was fine.”
He yelled back, “It’s been a fucking month. Things change, Tsumu. If I do this, it won't be some sick boy falling at Nationals. It’s gonna be me. Dontcha see anything past yerself?”
“What do you mean? It’s only a month, what did ya do?!”
I sold my health off for money. He scoffed at that. Imagine if he actually said that, he’d be scorned for life. So he lied, “I didn’t do anything. It just happened and yah maybe I can’t see the future and change that. How fucking sad.”
Where did he get the skill to lie so easily, he could’ve almost fooled himself.
Atsumu grit his teeth, “Will ya get better? Will ya catch up.”
“When I get better, I’ll catch up to ya.” Osamu promised, knowing that’ll never happen. “So ya better take this opportunity and get a head start. This means more to ya than it’ll ever to me.” Take it, he wanted to yell. Take the money I sold my health for. Don’t make it for nothing.
“Fine, I will. But don’t go cryin’ when ya can’t keep up.”
“I won’t.” He turned to find Suna leaning against the corner and repeated, “I won’t regret this. Not at all, Tsumu. Not at all.”
Atsumu turned to follow his gaze. But there was no way he saw anything.
With that out of the way, they went back to regular banter. The two guests stayed till around dinner till Osamu realized there was nothing he deemed edible in Atsumu’s fridge, flipped his twin off, and then proceeded to drive home. It was one thing to be surprised he managed to get through that conversation without a fight, but he could still feel a pair of cold eyes on him. He let the silence linger till they arrived back at his apartment, daring Suna to speak up.
Though he didn’t expect the first words to be an accusation. “Liar.”
“Excuse me?”
Suna clicked his tongue, “I called you a liar.”
Osamu scowled, attempting to open the car door and climb out but he was stopped by a grip on his wrist. “What?” He scoffed, “So I know I’m not gonna get better but I told him I’ll catch up. It’s not a full out lie, it’s grounded in truth.”
“Doesn’t change the fact you didn’t tell him what you knew.”
“So what? It’s for his sake. It’s a white lie.” He yanked at his hand again, feeling it getting numb, but couldn’t get it out. Osamu let out an angry sigh, “Suna, let go. Let’s go back in, we can talk about this later.” He didn’t intend to ever talk about it again, but what did another lie mean to him?
Suna finally relented, letting him get out of the car, arm falling to his side weakly. He took that chance to rush towards the door, expecting Suna to follow, but when he went to check, there was still the silhouette of a person in the car. Was he too harsh? Regret pooled in his chest as he headed back, leaning down to glance inside. To his surprise, in the time he was gone, Suna had curled himself up, knees pulled to his chest and arms wrapped around them. His eyes were trained on the floor. Gently, Osamu prodded, “C’mon, what’s keeping ya?”
“I didn’t mean that lie.” A muffled breath. “You told me you didn’t play anymore. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve-- should’ve taken better care of you.”
“Oh. I um didn’t realize.” Truthfully, he had forgotten or ever since he made that deal, he knew he wasn’t playing anymore. “I guess since back then, I didn’t plan to play anymore. I just never broke the news to Tsumu because I knew he wouldn’t like it. I didn’t mean to lie to ya, I swear.”
“Right.”
“Don’t get all hung up on some words now. C’mon, let’s go home.” Osamu crawled back into the car, not exactly sure how to comfort him, especially since it was his fault technically, but resting an awkward hand on Suna’s back. “Suna?”
“I’m not mad.”
“Ya sure act like it.” He tried to play it off casually, lightheartedly. But in response, his hand was brushed off and Suna got off the passenger’s side and headed into the apartment, not sparing him a single look. Left alone in the driveway of his own apartment, he slumped down in the driver's seat, groaning.
He had never cared. Never cared if someone thought poorly of him, but being called a liar by Suna, why did that mess with his head so much? His thoughts were everywhere, it hurt. It was painful, the type of pain he wanted to share. The type that burned at his core, begging him to let out the floodgates. It was a pain he would normally share with his other half, but that was no longer an option because of him.
And he knew, deep down, it wasn’t because of his health side effects. If he had to pick apart every event, he knew the cause and didn't want to face it. His choices up till this point were what decided what happened that night.
Now it was merely a matter of paying the price.