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The thing is, Sugawara can’t see.
Or, well, he can, but not entirely. His vision has been fading in and out for the past twenty minutes, and he swears that the room is spinning around him, that it’s not just him to have the impression that the whole gym has been moved inside a carousel. He’s always hated those, anyway.
And the boy knows he should have headed home right after school, he knows he should have just texted Daichi that he was feeling unwell, that his body wasn’t having it today, instead of forcing himself to show up at practice, sweaty and shaky, grinning unconvincingly at a murder of crows that greeted him.
Some have already started runningー probably Kageyama and Hinata, it’s always those twoー but he can barely see their blurry outlines as they race, and not only because they’re fast.
“Okay everyone, start running!! Ten laps.” Coach Ukai yells, clapping his hands too loudly for Sugawara’s already ringing ears.
But he obeys. He’s one of the last ones in the line, but he doesn’t care at all. Not like he plays much in actual matches, anyway.
Besides, everything hurts too much now.
His legs, his head, his stomachー it all hurts, and Sugawara thinks he might simply lie down on the cool gym floor and take a nap already. They’ll wake him after practice is over, probably, without even noticing that he’s skipped.
But Coach Ukai is insistent, he yells at them to pick up the pace and run, that the upcoming tournament won’t be easy, that they need to warm up properly or they won’t train well for it.
The boy wills his legs to keep moving, to endure it. He feels wobbly, unsteady, dizzy, like he’s run a thousand laps already. As he speed-walks, he runs a trembling hand through his sweaty hair, skin clammy and pale.
Glassy eyes squint to watch his steps before he accidentally crashes into one of the good players and ruins their chances to participate in the tournament.
He’s falling behind, physically and metaphorically speaking.
Sugawara’s breath picks up, faster and shallower with each step. His chest feels tight, but he keeps running. The back of the person before himー it must be Tsukishima, judging by the blond hair and heightー gets farther and farther, and blurrier, too.
Beads of cold sweat run down his forehead and neck, and he pants like he hasn’t breathed any oxygen in the past hour.
It really hurts.
He’s not sure of how many laps he’s completed, maybe three or four, but he doesn’t think he can do any more, frankly. Sugawara’s pace slows down, and soon enough he’s walking at a pathetically low speed. His teammates run past him, shooting concerned looks in his direction, but he doesn’t pick up their worry.
That is, until a hand sets itself on his shoulder, making his gasp. He spins around. The form before him morphs and jiggles in horrendous ways.
Nonetheless, his weak hands cling onto the shirt of the person that’s supposedly talking to him. He opens his mouth, an aborted apology-like sound coming out of it, or so he hopes.
I’m going to pass out.
The gym spins upside down, and it all goes black.
A white, too bright light assaults him. Hazel-brown eyes remain shut, he doesn’t dare open them, but he can still see it.
Everything hurts.
Strong hands grab his ankles and then lift his feet up in the air, and another hand pats his cheek with unnecessary strength.
They tell him to wake up, but he is awake. Just tired. He’ll be up in a moment.
The world fades out of focus again.
“ーga, Suga? Hey. Come on, Suga.”
“He’s coming to, don’t worry.”
“Give him space.”
“Where’s his water bー thanks, Shimizu.”
“D-do you think we should get him a juice pouch or a protein bar? W-what if heー”
“Shu’up.” he says, slurring his words horribly. The world goes quiet, and for a moment he believes he’s floating again.
He isn’t.
“Sugawara.” a gentle yet firm voice calls, and that’s definitely Takeda-sensei’s. “Sugawara, are you back with us, now?”
He hums, not daring to use his voice again.
“Can you open your eyes?” another voice asks, and that must be Coach Ukai’s.
Great, he’s making two out of the two adults present worry. Just great.
“No.” he whispers, and he doesn’t even hear himself say so. His ears are ringing still, and his head’s about to explode without any visual input. He just wants to rest.
Hushed murmurs are exchanged above his head, and he’s suddenly too aware that he’s probably sprawled on the gym’s floor, surrounded by worried people who definitely have something better to do.
“Do you remember what happened?” Coach asks.
“Pass’d out. S’okay.”
“No, it really isn’t.” Daichi cuts through, “What do you feel?”
“Shame.” he huffs, bringing his arm up and laying it over his eyes.
The world keeps spinning, and he wonders if he’s about to get sick. He hopes not.
“Suga.”
“W-what Daichi means is, what are your symptoms right now?” Asahi interjects, and Sugawara’s heart clenches at the thought that he made Asahi, a poor guy whose anxiety skyrockets for any given reason, worry like that.
He shrugs. “Mnh.”
“Sugawara.” and Shimizu’s voice actually makes one of his glazed-over eyes open, not past a slit, “We need to know if your wellbeing is at risk or not. Do you need medical attention?”
“N-no, no, m’fine, I’ll be fine.” he hurries, and sits up. As soon as he’s somewhat in a sitting position, however, the world tilts sideways, and down he goes.
Strong arms catch him before he can collide with the unforgiving hard floor.
Daichi’s.
“Suga!?”
“Sugawara!!”
“This idiot, heー”
He groans. “M’okay, jus’ dizzy.”
The arms around him move, and soon he’s adjusted carefully to lean against his friend’s chest, head lolling to the side slightly as he wills his eyes to focus. His pupils feel like little marbles caught in the middle of a game of pinball, and a choked gag makes its way up his throat.
“Shit, are you going to puke?” Coach asks, concern edging over his voice. Sugawara raises a hand, index finger up in the air to signal that no, he just needs a second.
“Do you know what’s causing this?” Takeda-sensei asks, voice low.
“Hyp-hypoglycemia.” he hisses, eyes squeezed shut, “Head hurts.”
“Okay, okay kid. We can work with that.” Ukai exhales in relief, and so does everyone else.
Ukai, Takeda and Shimizu move and start to fumble for something inside someone’s duffel bag on the other side of the gym, talking among themselves, although Sugawara can’t hear them at all.
Sugawara smiles, but after glancing around he notices how it’s just the six of them in the gym. He hums. “Where did th-the rest of the team go?”
“Coach made them go change, since you needed air.” Asahi supplies with a warm smile.
“They’re worried.” Daichi adds, “So are we. You scared us.”
“M’sorry. But m’not the first one who’s f-fainted here.”
“You’re the only one who did it twice in a row. And you’re the only one who took forever to wake up.”
Sugawara scoffs, “How long?”
“One minute and a half.” Asahi cuts through before Daichi can speak again. Both dark-haired boys frown at Sugawara, who shrinks slightly in his position.
“M’sorry.”
“Don’t just say it. Show us you are.”
“Daiー”
“No. I mean it, Suga. You need to tell someone if you’re not feeling good.” he bits.
“Daichi’s right.” Asahi nods, “You know you can rely on us, d-don’t you?”
Sugawara doesn’t respond. His gaze remains fixed to his hands in his lap. He knows he can rely on them, he just doesn’t need to bother them all the time. Though, he’s not an idiot. Sugawara knows that his friends will tell him that yes, he can and should bother them if it’s something they’d want him to bother them for.
It doesn’t mean he likes the idea.
“Sorry.” he repeats, voice barely audible.
His friends exchange worried looks, but don’t speak another word. A moment later, the three others come back and crouch where they were before.
Shimizu hands Asahi Sugawara’s bottle with a tender smile, and the latter takes it, opening it for his friend as she reaches for a can of soda, opening that one, for Sugawara to drink after the water.
Takeda-sensei patiently waits for the boy to take a few shy sips of water, and a sip of soda that makes him cringeー how can the boy handle spicy food but not fizzy drinks, he’ll never knowー before he hands him a peeled banana.
Color slowly starts returning to Sugawara’s face, and he looks a little less like he’s made of porcelain. Daichi allows himself to feel his friend’s forehead, not as clammy anymore.
“I’ll drive you home once you get your strengths back.” Coach says, catching his eye, “And if you don’t feel well tomorrow, just text a teammate or me, or Takeda-sensei if you have his number. You don’t have to worry about skipping practice, you need to rest first.”
Sugawara chews on the banana silently, nodding. Of course nobody will care if he skips practice. He’s useless, nothing changes if he isn’t there.
“Sugawara.” Shimizu calls, “We don’t want you to practice while sick only because we care about you. There is no other motive behind this.”
He hums. Nobody speaks another word.
Once he’s done with the fruit, Takeda makes him eat a chocolate too, and drink another sip of soda against his will. Still, he knows that the sugars will make him feel better soon, so he drinks in silence.
Ten minutes pass before anyone utters a word.
“Are you feeling any better?” Daichi asks. “I think your color’s looking good, your eyes too.”
“I agree.” Shimizu nods, “It would be better for you to be in bed as soon as possible, so if you’re feeling well enough to move to Coach Ukai’s car, let us know.”
“Yeah, I’m, I’m okay. I can walk.” Sugawara says.
Daichi and Asahi grab one arm each, and gingerly heft him up without asking him for permission. Shimizu shows Sugawara that she has his backpack and duffel bag ready, the former in Takeda-sensei’s hands, and so the third-years and adults slowly make their way to Ukai’s car.
Sugawara’s complexion looks a little pale again, but he reassures that he’ll be okay once he sits down.
Once his stuff and Daichi’s is loaded in the tiny trunk, and after he says goodbye to Takeda-sensei, Shimizu and Asahi, Ukai lets the two remaining players sit in the backseat and drives off, avoiding holes and bumps as much as humanly possible, music off.
“You’ll be in bed soon.” Daichi reassures.
Sugawara can only hum in agreement before he nods off, exhausted.