Chapter Text
“I think I sho-- uhh-- Could I… Could I see a therapist, please?”
Tooru sat on the floor next to the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket and back to the flames. His parents were sitting on the couch, across the room but in line of sight. They stared holes into him, but he was looking down at his alien print socks.
“Why? You’re completely fine,” Mrs. Oikawa said, looking back down at her knitting in dismissal.
“I... Well, it’s just… I get sad sometimes,” Tooru tried to explain.
“-- Everyone feels sad sometimes, Tooru. You’re not special,” his dad butted in.
“But… I also… kinda… um fainted while I was exercising today. The nurse said I should go to therapy.” His voice was getting quieter and quieter. They couldn’t hear what he was saying.
“Stop mumbling, Tooru. It’s rude,” his mom said without looking up from her knitting. “Repeat yourself. Louder.”
“I said I fainted,” he said much louder and stronger, bordering disrespectful in tone. “I said the nurse recommended I go to therapy.”
“Why would you faint? What would that even have to do with therapy?” his father asked.
“I didn’t-- I didn’t eat enough. I exercised too much.”
“Then eat more. That has nothing to do with therapy,” Mr. Oikawa rolled his eyes. “And I highly doubt you exercise too much. You don’t have much muscle. You’re slim like a damn pansy. Like a girl.”
“But I get really sad and I faint and I don’t eat enough and I--”
“You do not need therapy Tooru!” Mrs. Oikawa cut in firmly. “You are absolutely fine. You just want attention, clearly. Stop pushing when we already said no. I ought to ground you for the disrespect.”
“Sorry.” Oikawa could feel the familiar pounding in his head from holding back tears. “You’re right. I have no reason to have those kinds of problems. I’m fine. I tried to tell the nurse that.”
“Go to bed, Tooru,” Mrs. Oikawa said with finality. “A scouts coming to the practice game tomorrow. You have to be perfect.” She eyed the mug Tooru had been clenching in his hands without drinking and the plate of milk bread next to him. “And do not drink that damn sugar-filled coffee. You know better. I don’t care if it’s decaff. Poor it out, and put that piece of milk bread up. You don’t need that either.”
Oikawa climbed onto his feet and did as told. His head thumped like a heartbeat over and over, making him grit his teeth. Despite his efforts to keep the tears in, they were welling up in his tear ducts by the time he reached the top of the stairs. He couldn’t believe he had let that nurse convince him that the way he felt wasn’t normal and could be helped. That he let her give him hope. Well, his parents confirmed everything he already thought. He didn’t deserve help. He didn’t even deserve to be sad.
That milk bread had been the only thing he had even thought about eating in a couple of days, needing something after fainting that day. He hadn’t wanted to eat it anyway. As much as he knew he shouldn’t, he cried once he was in his room.
He had fainted again. And now he had to be perfect in the practice match. Tooru’s breath sped up as he pictures the eyes of the scout staring at him the whole time. His coach would be watching too. He’d tell his parents of any poor performance. The crows, who expect him to be some kind of great king of volleyball would be watching. Soon, he couldn’t breathe at all. He was hyperventilating harshly as images of the game played in his head. He’d often get panic attacks before big games, but this was just a practice match. Something in him must have known that he was in no place to be playing volleyball at that point. He didn’t even like volleyball at that point. He was already so weak he didn’t feel he could stay on his feet for more than a few minutes. So tired he didn’t feel he even wanted to. He’d force down some breakfast, but god knew if that would make him feel any less weak in the short time frame.
He eventually came down from his attack, alone as always. He was still kicking himself for getting it in his head that he could finally have someone to tell about his bad thoughts. All he could force out to his parents was that he got sad sometimes. That wasn’t all of it. That moment, and most other moments when he was alone in his room, his mind was telling him heinous things about himself.
He told himself that he was disgusting. Ugly. Too feminine. Not good enough in any way. He told himself that he should hurt himself. The one that scares him the most is the lingering thought that he should die. He didn’t plan on doing that. But that thought was there. It was there in that very moment, while he curled into the corner with his blanket still over his shoulders. Nobody would care. It would all stop. The pain would stop. He hated how appealing it sounded. But he wouldn’t do it. He’d suck it up because nothing was actually wrong and look good in front of those scouts tomorrow.
Iwaizumi would be there with him tomorrow. He didn’t know about Tooru’s problems. Nobody did. He had secluded that side of him from every person in the world. It was so lonely. The simple presents of other people were beginning to not suffice. The way he felt while he was alone was bleeding out into every other time of the day. That would just have to be managed. He always had had a very good fake smile.
His sleep was restless. It felt like it took days for the morning to finally come. Well, what he perceived as the morning. He got up at 4:30 to go for his morning run, which had grown in length over the years. The sky was still dark for the entirety of it. He had to make it that early if he was going to have time to do his hour-long morning routine. If he didn’t do that, he’d feel even uglier and his mother would express those thoughts out loud to confirm them. His knee began hurting halfway through his two-hour run, but he didn’t put his brace on until he got home. That’s just one of the many things he did that he knew he shouldn’t. Every ounce of his being knew he should sleep, eat, and take care of his knee if he wanted to do good during the day’s match (And holy shit did he need to do good), but some strange subconscious thoughts made him do awful things to himself, like the opposite of what he needed.
Back at his house, he did his long morning routine. He made sure every hair was in place. He did the extensive skincare that his mother insisted on. He put on his favorite outfit of cuffed pants and a seafoam green sweater. All of this. And he looked at himself in the mirror. And could only see ugliness.
He sighed. Nothing new. While the sun was finally coming up, Oikawa grabbed his volleyball duffle bag and walked next door to Iwaizumi’s house. He walked right in, quiet enough to not wake up Iwa’s parents, who liked to sleep in on Saturdays. He wandered up the stairs and into Iwa’s room just in time to see Iwa putting on his shirt, ripped abs on display.
Tooru was disgusted by how that sight has always made him feel. His stomach rolls and his cheeks flush. He had long since been able to pretend he didn’t feel anything, though. He went right on ahead and sat on Iwa’s bed.
“Where should we go get breakfast?” Oikawa asked as he settled onto the bed, in need of getting off his feet. The room was beginning to spin.
“Good morning to you too,” Iwa scoffed. “Mister Donut maybe?”
“Donuts before a game?” Oikawa gasped. “No no no. My mom would kill me. How about Matsyu?”
“Why ask if you already knew where we were goin’?” Iwa mumbled. “So we’re getting a big breakfast then? You usually hate big breakfasts.”
“I-- I’m just hungry today… for some reason.” It was a reasonable enough bend of the truth.
They went to Matsuyu, where Oikawa choked down as much of his sausage and egg meal as he could. Iwaizumi polished his off no sweat, though, and paid for both of them before they left for the gym. Oikawa became less dizzy, but his stomach was instantly rolling. His head was screaming guild at having consumed so many calories. Some delusional, logicless part of him was horrified that Iwa had seen him eat that food and look like a pig.
While with Iwa, he could keep on a domestic, blank expression, but once he greeted his teammates, he had to staple on his bright smile.
“Hey, Cap,” Makki greeted outside the locked gym doors.
“Excited for the match and scout?” Mattsun threw in, always standing right next to Makki.
“Of course!” Oikawa exclaimed with disguised fake enthusiasm as he unlocked the gym. “We are going to kick some crows today, and someone is getting scouted by the Black Jackals. I can feel it!”
“Hell yeah!” Makki cheered.
The four third-years got the gm set up for the match quickly. They were just finishing up when the Sejoh team began filtering in, all heading for the locker rooms. In no time, everyone was dressed in uniform (with the ugly green practice match bibs), and waiting for Karasuno’s bus to arrive. While waiting, an official-looking man silently entered and took a seat in the empty stands. It would not usual for scouts to come to practice matches, but this scout had come and asked them because he had eyes for a few of the people from each team. Oikawa prayed it was him, so his parents would be happy. Even if the idea of getting stared at this whole game was making him sick to his stomach. His head was already swimming with nerves and leftover jitters from the panic attack. His thoughts were spiraling quicker than they ever had before, racing a mile a minute.
Karasuno came bustling off their bus not long after. Oikawa and Iwaizumi stood outside to greet them and shake hands with their captain. He flashed his charming smile at their managers for the sake of keeping his macho appearance, while he actually respected the work of volleyball managers to no end.
With polite bows, expressed appreciation for the opportunity to play against each other, and warm-ups, the game commenced.
The next events will be discussed in the metaphor of a dam.
Upon the first serve, done by Oikawa himself, they successfully got a point. On the second, it went all the way out of the court. The scout wrote something down. The water behind the dam rose, just slightly.
The next round, served by Daichi, ended with the freak duo’s attack gaining a point. The scout visibly turned his entire attention to Hinata. The water rose.
Next, after a couple of points for either team, he began tossing his sets way too low. Points were quickly gaining against him. He was slipping. The water was rising. Fast.
They lost the first set. Time out. The coach is yelling at Oikawa, so is Iwaizumi, but he can barely hear past the ringing in his ears. He gets the gist anyway. Not good enough. Not good enough at all. The water was pouring into the dam holding like a waterfall. There were cracks forming.
Halfway through the second set, when Sejoh was at 7 and Karasuno at 9, the scout left. He hadn’t looked at Oikawa once. His parents were gonna… his parents were gonna… Water. Water. Water.
The ringing in Oikawa’s ears was deafening. Thoughts were beginning to slip through the cracks like sand through fingers. Memories too, leaving just the absolute raw emotion of distress, gathering and festering with every second. It was his turn to serve again. He threw the ball in the air. He did not hit it. It slammed loudly into the floor right in front of him. The whole room was staring.
The dam broke and overflowed at the same time.
In a breathless second, Oikawa had backed himself against the concrete gym wall. He slammed his head into it exactly 4 times before Iwaizumi ripped him away from the cement, eyes flashing complete horror at the total snap he was witnessing in the friend he had had a normal conversation with just a few hours prior.
Once forced away from the wall, he squirmed out of Iwaizumi’s grip and threw himself on the ground with a feral scream from deep in his chest. He continued to howl and kick and jerk, tears pouring down his face faster than the water out of the dam. After flexing and spasming his knee muscles, already ridden in osteoarthritis, he stopped flailing. He instead curled into the fetal position where he continued to ball loudly.
“I want to die,” he began babbling through heaving gasps. “Die. Die. DIE. I WANT TO FUCKING DIE! LET ME DIE!”
“My God,” Coach Irihata said. “He’s having a nervous breakdown.”
“No shit!” Coach Ukai said, running over to the freaking out boy.
Makki and Mattsun set about forcing all of the morbidly curious and petrified students out of the gym and away from their friend’s lowest moment. He didn’t deserve everyone to see that.
Iwaizumi was standing next to him, completely at a loss for what to do. This was his best friend, the love of his life, hyperventilating and suicidal on the floor. They’re just kids.
“He’s not breathing right and he hit his head really hard. Someone call an ambulance,” Ukai demanded. “What’s wrong with him? How long has this been building?”
“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi tried to will away tears but was failing. “He hasn’t acted any different at all. I should have looked closer. God damn it.”
“Call his parents. Have them meet us at the hospital,” Ukai told him.
And as horrific as it sounds, Oikawa was not aware in that moment who these “parents” were or why he desperately didn’t want to see them, but the feeling alone of not wanting them there was enough. He began kicking and screaming again.
“No no no no no nonononno,” he struggled and gasped. “Parents no…” he balled.
“His parents are… harsh,” Iwaizumi muttered. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they brought this on. They put a lot of pressure on him.”
Oikawa tried to hit his head on the floor, but Iwaizumi quickly grabbed him. He didn’t know if physical touch would make it better or worse, but Oikawa immediately began slowing down in Iwa’s arms. He was still completely out of it, eyes far off, but he ceased his kicking and screaming. Iwaizumi hugged him close and let the brunette cry into his shirt.
“Shhh. You’re ok Tooru,” Iwaizumi tried to soothe, completely unused to comforting gestures. “Everything will be ok.”
Oikawa became borderline childlike as he broke down in Iwa’s arms. He sobbed and babbled utter nonsense. “Iwa-chan. I want Iwa-can.”
“I’m right here,” Iwa tried, but Oikawa was just too unaware to understand.
He wouldn’t stop his sporadic breathing. The ambulance finally got there while Iwa was still holding him. It took a bit of prying and a whole lot of tears, but the paramedics separated the two and strapped Oikawa to a gurney with cot straps. The two teams watched as the captain was loaded into the ambulance while sobbing loudly. No one there had clearance to ride with him, so he was all alone. Iwaizumi hopped in the car with his coach, as well as the other Sejoh third years. The Karasuno team had no choice but to get back on their bus and go home. It’s not like everyone could wait in the waiting room for him. It wouldn’t be good fr him to have too many visitors for a little while.
We want to think that everyone in the world would be perfect enough people to fight their morbid curiosity at seeing a thing like that, but it was a volleyball team of a bunch of teen boys. Karasuno talked about the event for the entire ride home.
“That… That was the grand king. The grand king just had a meltdown,” Noya whispered.
“Maybe he… Maybe it’s not so good to be thought of by everyone in Japan as… perfect. Maybe that’s too much,” Hinata said, crying silently.
Kageyama wrapped an arm around Hinata’s shoulder and spoke. “That wasn’t the first time.”
Everyone gasped. Asahi hid in Noya’s hair.
“Would it be ok to ask?” Suga questioned.
Kageyama nodded and leaned his head against Hinata’s. “At Kitagawa… when he was in his last year there. I think he was under a lot of stress, but don’t really know. He never talked to anyone but Iwaizumi. I asked him to teach me how to serve one day. I saw something in him snap. He was about to hit me. His eyes were so far off. Iwaizumi caught his hand in time.”
“Shit,” Tanka vocalized amongst the silent team. “It’s been going on that long?”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you everything. It’s his business. But after being on a team with him for a year you notice things. Weird food hangups. Overexertion. He’s always been hard on himself. I thought that that was normal. I thought he was just an overachiever. I never thought…” Kageyama broke down.
“Let this be a lesson,” Daichi said grimly. “We are athletes. We are susceptible to both physical and mental fatigue. Give yourself time, your body respect, and only set reasonable goals.”
“Do you think Oikawa-sempai will ever recover?” Hinata cried.
“I don’t think you can ever completely recover from that,” Suga admitted.