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On a chilly November morning, Sakusa woke up with a tickle in her throat. 

She immediately began writing her will in her head. 

Dearest Motoya, Sakusa thought. You can have my mint-condition manga collection. My entire wardrobe. My antique vanity. And my super cool halloween costume from last year. You can also have all of my pre-law textbooks, because now that I am deceased, my family will make you be a lawyer instead of me. 

To my roommate, Iwaizumi, you can have my fancy compression sleeves. Not my favorite pair, though. I want to be buried in those. 

To my team captain, Oikawa Tooru, you can have my spot in my dorm room, all so you can find the time of day to admit your feelings to your precious ‘Iwa-chan’. 

And Ushijima Wakatoshi, you can have my middle finger, you cheating bastard. 

Sakusa sat up when she realized that was the extent of her list. She didn’t care to give anyone anything else. She climbed off of her lofted bed and put two masks on. She grabbed her backpack and shoved her laptop into it, plus a small book. Not that she’d need either where she was going, which was straight to the morgue. 

Her keys fell onto the floor, which woke Iwaizumi up. 

“Huh?” She sat up. Her chin-length bob was sticking up in every direction. “What is it? Where are you going?” 

“I’m dying.” Sakusa answered, quickly opening the door to their dorm and locking it behind her. She heard Iwaizumi mutter something, then roll over in her bed and go back to sleep. 

Sakusa now sat in a room at her campus health center. 

She’d been here many times since her freshman year, so most of the doctors knew her by name. She was a chronic hypochondriac, and her anxiety disorder only fueled it, so she frequented the place. Most times, she was sent home with no diagnosis, only recommendations for her anxiety. 

But today was different. She could sense it in the air. 

“Hi, Sakusa-san.” The nurse slid into the room. “Unfortunately, your test results for COVID have come back positive. We’re going to need to move you into the campus wide quarantine housing, okay?” 

Positive. I tested positive. My worst fears are real. I am going to die– 

“Sakusa-san?” The nurse gave a friendly wave. Sakusa still didn’t answer, and the nurse grew even more concerned. “Sakus–” 

“The test is wrong.” Sakusa said, looking up to her in fear. “There’s— there’s no way. It must’ve gotten switched with someone else’s, or it’s broken, or expired, or—” 

“It’s your test.” The nurse tried to calm her down. “You’re going to be okay.” 

Sakusa was already hyperventilating. They had to break out an oxygen mask. 

An hour later, Sakusa was standing in her new dorm. She caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked feral. 

The room had no decor whatsoever. It was barren– as all the dorms had looked before students moved in. The walls were blank. The bed had white sheets and a white blanket with one flat pillow. There was a box fan. An empty wooden desk. A chair, and a small trashcan. That was it. 

The only good thing about the room was the window. It was small, and it was locked. But it gave Sakusa a good view of campus. 

She could hear people out in the hallway. She couldn’t escape that way, but maybe she could smash the window. She was only on the third floor, and with Sakusa’s athletic ability, she could make the jump just fine. It wasn’t that high, right? She picked up the chair, getting ready to throw it— 

A knock on the door. Sakusa froze. 

“Hello?” A voice called. “S… Sakus–” The voice paused. “Sakusa Kiyoomi, are you in there? God, that’s a mouthful.” 

Sakusa put down the chair as gently as she could. She tip-toed over to the peephole and looked out. In front of her door was a girl with horribly bleached hair. It was the yellowest hair Sakusa had ever seen. She wore a mask, along with much more personal protective gear. 

Sakusa caught a glimpse of her eyes. They were half-lidded, as if she were bored. She also had dark bags under each eye. 

She rapped on the door again. “Answer, or I’m comin’ in–” 

“Here.” Sakusa said. It was the first time she’d spoken since her panic attack. Her voice was weak. 

“Good.” The girl said, flipping her long ponytail over her shoulder. “I was worried ya passed out from asphyxiation. Two students on the fourth floor had that happen to ‘em this week, and I don’t want a third.” 

“They passed out?” Sakusa panicked. “That happened to students?” 

She fell to her knees, starting to hyperventilate again. The girl kept talking to her through the door, but she couldn’t hear any of it. The next thing she registered was the door opening and hitting her shoulder. Sakusa didn’t move. 

The girl squeezed in, then immediately bent down in front of her. She kept her gloved hands away, but with her eyes, she scrutinized Sakusa for any signs of danger. 

Sakusa’s chest shook as she hyperventilated. She felt her tears roll down into her mask. 

“Look at me.” The girl ordered. And eventually, Sakusa met her gaze. “Yer gonna be fine. You play for the volleyball team, don’tcha? Number fifteen? Starting line-up?” 

Sakusa blinked. There was no way they could be talking about volleyball at a time like this. Not when the grim reaper was one floor above. 

“How… how did you know?” Sakusa whispered. The girl smirked under her N95. 

“I’m a big fan of the girl’s team. Y'all kick ass.” She said. “I’ve seen how you play. You’re good. Which means you’re healthy.” 

“That doesn’t matter!” Sakusa shook her head. She was too distraught to recognize the compliment. “COVID will ravage anyone. It will kill me, I know it.” Her voice croaked. “You gotta help me. You gotta help me get my will ready—” 

The girl let out a laugh. “Yer not gonna die.” 

“I am!” Sakusa pleaded. “I am. You gotta help me, please . Please, please, please–” 

Sakusa was in a full blown panic attack again. She wanted to be in her dorm. She wanted to be in her bed, Iwaizumi sleeping five feet away in her own lofted bed. She wanted to hear Iwaizumi rant about Oikawa. She wanted to be with Motoya in the library. She wanted to be anywhere but here, trapped in this desolate, concrete room for two weeks. All while this virus ravaged her from the inside out. All while Sakusa slowly deteriorated until her body could no longer survive—

To die, far away from everything Sakusa had ever loved about life. 

She cried for ten minutes, her hands over her eyes. She didn’t notice that the girl had sat down in the desk chair. She simply put her elbows on her knees, waiting for Sakusa to breathe again. Either that, or she was trying not to fall asleep. 

Once Sakusa looked up, sniffling, the girl spoke again. 

“Yer one of those hypochondriacs, aren’tcha?” 

“Get out!” Sakusa raged. “Let me die in peace!” 

The girl pulled out a small blue clip. She snapped it twice. 

“I need your oxygen levels.” She said. “Then I can go. This is all I’m gonna do with it—” She held the clip up to her gloved finger. She slid it on, then slid it off. “That’s all I need from you right now.” 

Sakusa sniffed. The girl watched as she sat down on the hard bed. She held her finger out, and then the girl slid the device on. 

“This is a pulse oximeter.” The girl said as they waited for it to start up. “This reads the amount of oxygen in your blood. A low reading indicates that something might be wrong, and we’ll take you to the hospital.” She paused. “When we admit students, we only check this a few times. But for you, I will bring it with me every time I come to check on you. So you don’t fully lose your mind.” 

The pulse oximeter clicked. The girl took note of the numbers and took it off. 

“Every… every time you come to check on me?” 

“Yes.” The girl nodded. “I’ll be checking on you four times during my shift. Two in the morning, two at night.” 

“Why?” Sakusa whispered. 

The girl looked at her as if she’d been born yesterday. 

“You seriously have no oxygen in yer brain, eh?” She laughed. “I’m your assigned student worker. I’ll be bringing you food and making sure you haven’t stopped breathing.” 

“Are you pre-med, then?” 

The girl laughed again. “No way in hell. I ain’t smart enough for that. I jus’ took this job because it’s the best paying job on campus.” She winked. “Not all of us can screw around and play volleyball to make a livin’, y’know?” 

A walkie-talkie on her hip started to beep. She switched it on, and a flurry of voices came though. 

“Miya. You there?” A voice asked. “One of the student’s bathrooms is flooding. We need your… expertise.” 

The girl sighed, picking up her walkie-talkie. “I’m on it.” 

Sakusa watched as she stood up, slipping her pulse oximeter back into her front pocket. She headed towards the door, looking back at Sakusa one last time. 

“The name’s Miya Atsumu.” She said, a playful glint in her eye. “You should be getting an email soon from the health center containing what you should look out for and what to do, blah blah blah. I’m… sure you already know what bad COVID looks like.” She paused. “My number for my work phone will be in that email, too. So if you need anything, just call. It’s my job to keep you healthy, so don’t feel like you’re botherin’ me or anythin’.” 

Sakusa nodded, sniffling once again under her mask. Then Atsumu left. 

Time passed horribly slow within Sakusa’s four concrete walls. 

She thanked her lucky stars that she’d brought her laptop with her to the student health center. She was able to attend two of her classes online, which helped distract her from the fact she was on her deathbed. But why am I in class if I’m about to die? Sakusa thought. Learning about every aspect of copyright law was not going to help her in afterlife— whichever one she ended up in. 

Before she could think about it too much, class was over. Another knock on her door, but this time, it was a different student worker. Atsumu’s shift must’ve ended. 

At six, Sakusa got a video call from Iwaizumi. Her short hair was tied back, and she was sweaty. Practice must’ve just ended. 

“Hey. I got contacted by the COVID tracers. You alright?” 

Sakusa nodded. She looked at herself in the small box she was in. Her curly hair was frizzier than ever. She looked like she’d been crying all day, which was true.

“I’ve been better.” 

“Are your symptoms okay?” 

“Just my throat.” Sakusa muttered. “It felt like a tickle this morning, but now it feels like sandpaper.” 

“Headache is next!” Oikawa shouted from the background of the call. Iwaizumi tore her face away from the camera, looking as if she was about to bite Oikawa’s head off. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Iwaizumi shouted. “You know she’s sensitive about this stuff!” 

Now that Sakusa thought about it, her head did hurt. She wondered what other symptoms she was already developing. Like what if her oxygen levels were already dropping. She looked down to the finger Atsumu had put the oximeter on. 

If I was fine this morning, then I’m fine now, Sakusa told herself. Unless my case is really rare. Unless my oxygen levels were lying, or maybe they aren’t showing COVID’s true damages. Atsumu said they ‘might’ be indicative that something is wrong. She said might. Might. 

Sakusa’s heart raced in her chest.

“Sakusa? You still there?” Iwaizumi asked. It looked like she was walking outside, as her cheeks were now slightly red. Sakusa could see a few of campus’s buildings in the background. 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m going to pack you some stuff from our dorm, alright? The contract tracers said it was safe for me to do so. So text me what you want. I don’t want you living in the same clothes all week.” 

“Thanks, Iwaizumi.” 

“It’s no big deal.” She said. “Just get better as fast as you can. I’m going to go nuts at practice without you. Ushiwaka and Oikawa are already at each other’s throats.” 

“Am not, Iwa.” Oikawa said from the distance. Sakusa didn’t need to see the pout in order to know it was there. 

She and Iwa said their goodbyes, yet Sakusa couldn’t quiet the voice in her mind that told her it was their last call. 

At eight-thirty, Atsumu knocked on the door. Sakusa didn’t get up to answer, so Atsumu shouted that she was coming in. She walked in with a small tray of food in her hands, and Sakusa’s purple suitcase at her side. 

“Your hot roommate dropped this stuff off.” Atsumu said, kicking the suitcase in with her black combat boot. Then she sat Sakusa’s food down on the desk, her hands on her hips. 

Sakusa just stayed in her bed. She shut her eyes once Atsumu was looking at her. 

“You seriously can’t be this ill on the first day.” Atsumu said. “I want to talk about your hot roommate.” 

Sakusa ignored the latter half of her statement. “I am ill. I’m dying.” 

Atsumu sighed and pulled a thermometer out of the pocket of her scrubs. She stuck it in Sakusa’s mouth before she could protest. 

“Ninety-eight-point-seven. Yer not dyin’.” 

She pulled the chair over to the bed. She grabbed her hand as gently as she could, then put the pulse oximeter on her finger. They both waited for the beep. 

“Ninety-seven percent.” Atsumu said, then she gasped so loudly, Sakusa sat up immediately.

“What is it?” 

“Oh, no… You have an hour left to live…” 

Sakusa’s eyes widened. This was it. She knew it. She was right. 

But then Atsumu laughed behind her N95. “I’m kiddin’, Ms. Pre-Law.” Atsumu took the pulse oximeter off. “Anythin’ between ninety-five and a hundred is good. You’re fine.” 

“You’re an awful nurse.” 

“Good thing I’m not going to be one, then.” She laughed, rolling back on the chair. “Go ahead and complain to my boss about how awful I am. She’ll never fire me, because I run this shit-show. I can be as mean as I want to the patients.” 

“You were nice to me earlier today.” Sakusa muttered. 

“You caught me at a good time. Evenings are when I get cranky.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“You must be really bored to be askin’ me all these questions.” 

When Sakusa didn’t respond, Atsumu just kept talking. She seemed like one of those people who could have a full conversation with a brick wall. Sakusa laid back down on her back, pulling her blanket up to her chin. 

“You see these bags under my eyes?” She pointed, her blue glove tight around her hand. “They’re the real deal. Showed up on my face three weeks after takin’ this job. Haven’t gone away since.” 

“From the stress?” Sakusa asked. She couldn’t imagine being around sick people all day. 

Atsumu laughed. “God, no. I jus’ don’t get to sleep. I work the night shift. Have classes during the day. It’s a great life I’ve got goin’ for myself.” 

“Why do you work so much? That can’t be good for your grades.” 

Atsumu stared down at her, again, like Saksua had been born yesterday. She looked back at Saksua’s suitcase. 

“Oh. I get it.” Atsumu said. “You’re one of those rich kids.” 

Sakusa sat up. “Am not.” 

“Are too.” Atsumu said. “My first piece of evidence— that bag. Looks brand new, and it’s designer. My second piece of evidence.” She pointed to Sakusa’s Mac. “Third, and finally, I saw what dorm you’re from in your student records. That dorm is the most expensive on campus.” 

Sakusa stared at Atsumu. She didn’t even know that about her dorm room. She never had to check— her parents had already paid for it. 

Atsumu picked up the tray of food and set it on Sakusa’s lap. She put a pair of chopsticks in her hand. 

“Oh, and one more thing. No low-income student would ever have to ask why I ‘work so much’. They’d already know why.” 

She headed towards the door. Saksua was speechless.

“Toodaloo. See you later tonight, Ms. Dying.” 

She shut the door. Her radio immediately started going off, and Sakusa heard her swear. 

Sakusa went to sleep after eating. Atsumu came and checked on her once more at eleven, careful to keep her footsteps quiet. She dropped off water bottles, a few snacks, and a Sudoku book. 

She opened the door to leave, but Sakusa rolled over. She held out her finger, and Atsumu sighed, pulling out her pulse oximeter. 

“Ninety-six.” Atsumu said, her voice tired. 

“It went down.” Sakusa said, her breath hitching. “That’s a sign something is wrong, right?” 

“No. It fluctuates sometimes. That’s normal.” 

“So I’m not dying yet?” 

“Yer not dying.” 

“Will I get close to dying? 

“Very low chance you will.” Atsumu answered. “And if it you start headin’ that way, I’ll catch it. Now, go to sleep. Today was day zero. You need to be well-rested so you can fight this crap off.” 

Sakusa put her head in her hands. She didn’t need to be reminded. 

The next day, Sakusa’s throat hurt even worse. It stung when she swallowed. Her head was also pounding. 

Atsumu visited twice in the morning. She looked as if she hadn’t slept at all. 

“Did you sleep?” Sakusa asked when she came by the second time. Her classes weren’t until the afternoon, so she had just been waking up each time Atsumu visited. It was a rush to get her two masks on before Atsumu walked in. 

“Sleep? What’s that?” Atsumu’s eyes squinted as she smiled. Sakusa wished she could see the lower half of Atsumu’s face. She wanted to know what the devil’s smile looked like. “No, I’m fine. I can sleep when I’m dead.” 

She slid the pulse oximeter onto Sakusa’s finger. “Ninety-seven.” 

“Does that mean I’m getting better?” 

Atsumu laughed. “You’re funny.” 

Sakusa really wasn’t feeling well, so she went back to sleep after Atsumu left. A few hours later, she managed to eat breakfast and take some pain medication. It felt like it didn’t help at all. She got through one of her classes online, but then she left the other one half-way through in order to sleep more.

She distantly heard as Motoya called her around five. She wasn’t awake enough to answer. At eight-forty-five, Atsumu walked in, a tray of food in her hands. 

“Rise and shine!” She cheered. Sakusa wished she had a brick. She slid on her two masks, and Atsumu rolled over in the desk chair. 

The pulse oximeter beeped, it’s pinch even tighter around Sakusa’s finger today. “Ninety-seven. How we feelin’?” 

“I feel great. I’m cured. I’d like to go back to my dorm, please—” 

Atsumu put her gloved hand on Sakusa’s forehead. “Your forehead is on fire.” 

“Put it out.” 

“No can do.” Atsumu stepped back. She threw her glove into the trash and put a new one on, not without using hand-sanitizer first. “Not a nurse, remember?” 

“Then what the hell are you?” Sakusa said, her head pounding. “How can I trust that you know what you’re doing? That you’re keeping me safe?” 

“Look, Sa– Kiyoomi–” She frowned, shaking her head. “How ‘bout I just call ya Omi? Works much better for my southern tongue. Look, if I wasn’t here, then no one would be. No student on this campus will do this job, so unfortunately, I’m yer only option.” She paused, her hand on the doorknob. “Secondly, I’m not a genius. I can’t get into med-school. That ain’t mean I’m a dumbass.” 

She quickly left. Sakusa took another pain reliever, then went to sleep. 

The next morning, Sakusa felt as if she’d been hit by a truck. 

Her muscles ached with every movement. Her lower back stung. Her head felt terribly congested, along with her sore throat. By the time Atsumu got there, it hurt to blink. 

“Omi-Omi–” Atsumu sang. “How’s my most needy patient?” 

Sakusa didn’t respond, nor did she roll over. Atsumu put her mask on for her, then changed out her gloves again and pulled out the pulse oximeter. 

“Ninety-six.” 

“That can’t be right.” Sakusa said into the pillow. “That can’t be right. I’m actually dying.” 

“Are you actually dying, or do you just feel sick?” 

Sakusa shut her mouth. 

“I’ve been working this job since the university opened back up.” Atsumu said, her voice quiet. It was an odd tone, as she’d been nothing but brash since Sakusa had met her. “Days two through five always suck the most. But it gets better.” 

When Sakusa didn’t say anything, she continued. 

“Your head is going to hurt. So will your body. Fever. Coughing. Chills. Mucus. All of that means your immune system is working. I’d be more scared if you weren’t having these symptoms.” 

“You’re being nice to me again. I thought you said you liked being mean.” 

Atsumu gave a long sigh. “I guess I have a lil’ bit of a soft spot for volleyball players.” 

Before Saksua could ask what that meant, Atsumu was gone, her radio going off in the hallway. 

Sakusa slept all that she could. Every few hours or so, she’d wake up, either to shower and clear her nose, or when Atsumu would come in with more food. On the morning of day four, she lectured Sakusa once she saw her untouched dinner. 

“You need to eat.” Atsumu said, her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun. Her roots were obnoxiously outgrown. 

“And you need to sleep.” Sakusa coughed. Her voice was almost gone. 

“I’m not the one with COVID.” She said, crossing her arms. Sakusa wanted to see a picture of her so desperately. Wanted to see the lower half of her face. Did she have a nice smile? Did she scowl a lot? Did she have dimples? “Hey. I’m talkin’ to you.” 

“What.” 

“Eat your breakfast.” 

“Don’t feel good.” 

“Because you didn’t eat!” 

Sakusa held out her finger. Atsumu swore under her breath. 

“Ninety-six.” 

Sakusa rolled over and faced the wall. She coughed again, and silence filled the room. 

“Is it the food?” Atsumu asked, her voice quiet. “I can get you different food. I know the stuff we serve here is ass.” 

Sakusa shook her head. 

“You need to eat.” Atsumu said. “Anything. Miso soup. Ice cream. An apple. I don’t care what it is, or if it’s across campus. I will go get it.” 

Sakusa rolled onto her back, looking at Atsumu’s eyes. They were bloodshot. Her bags were still there. She looked exhausted. 

“I don’t want to make you do that.” 

“And I don’t want you throwing up bile when you inevitably get dehydrated.” She smirked. “Besides, I do have some friends on this campus. I’m sure you think I don’t.” 

“Well, you never leave me alone. So yeah, I thought that.” 

“Shut it. Gimme your order. Now.” 

“Strawberry ice cream from that one shop by the school of journalism.” Sakusa managed to get out. “Rice porridge from that rice shop next to it. Add umeboshi.” 

She lingered at the door. Sakusa could imagine a smirk. “Got it, boss.” 

It was more than obvious that Atsumu hadn’t been the one to get the food. 

Sakusa watched out the window as a girl rode her bike up the gigantic hill that led to the quarantine dorms. She had a plastic bag in a basket on the front. She had shoulder length hair that was dyed gray, a black baseball cap on backwards. 

She got off of her bike and panted for air. She was too far away for Sakusa to really see her, but she was pretty. Almost exactly Sakusa’s type. 

The girl grabbed the bag and walked up to the door of the building. Then, Sakusa heard her swear fiercely at Atsumu, then get on her bike and ride away. Her middle finger was up the entire ride back down the hill. 

Five minutes later, Atsumu barged in. She had the plastic bag in her hands. 

“Here ya are, Omi-Omi.” She put the bag down on the desk. Sakusa sat up, her body screaming at her. She weakly reached for the desk, then let her arm go limp. “Oh, you are so pathetic.” Atsumu sighed, bringing the food directly over to Sakusa. “You gonna make me spoon-feed it to you as well?” 

“No.” Sakusa rasped. “Who was that girl that delivered it?” 

“No one of importance.” 

“Bummer. She was cute.” 

Atsumu’s eyes widened. The rest of her expression was blocked by her N95. 

“You–” She breathed. “ You thought she was cute?” 

Sakusa didn’t answer for a moment. She just timidly opened the lid to her ice cream. She didn’t realize how hungry she’d gotten, but her throat hurt too bad to try and eat anything. She hoped this would help. 

It did. Sakusa almost melted from pure bliss. 

“Answer me.” Atsumu demanded. She had a funny tinge to her voice. “You thought she was cute?” 

“Yes.” Sakusa said, after her third bite. “Exactly my type. Her face was adorable. Is she single?” 

Atsumu gripped her fist so tightly, the pen she was holding snapped. 

“No.” Atsumu said. It sounded like her teeth were gritted. “No. She’s very, very, very, very taken–” 

“Jeez. I get it.” Sakusa said, looking up from her ice cream. “Tell her I said thanks, will you?” 

Atsumu was already leaving. “No.” 

That night, Sakusa woke up at 4am. She barely had time to make it to the trashcan before throwing up. 

She gasped for air. She could hardly breathe, her stomach not finding any relief. Her curls hung down around her face. She was sweating, and choking— 

She managed to reach up and grab her phone from the bed. She’d put Atsumu’s number as her emergency contact on the first day. She was so glad she did, because she wouldn’t have been able to find that email now. 

Atsumu picked up on the third ring. “Hello?” 

“It’s Sakusa.” Sakusa cried into the phone. “I need help. I’m actually dying–” 

It must’ve been the fear in her voice, because Atsumu didn’t say a single quip or snark. 

“I’m comin’, Omi.” She rushed. Sakusa heard a few things fall over in the background, then listened as Atsumu ran up to the third floor, her footsteps pounding on each of the metal steps. Soon enough, the door to Sakusa’s dorm was opening. Atsumu flicked on the light and stepped in. 

She immediately knew what had happened once she saw Sakusa kneeling on the ground, leaning over the bin. 

“Oh, Omi.” Atsumu said, taking a step forward. 

“I can’t breathe.” Sakusa sobbed into the bin. “I can’t. Everything hurts, and I can’t– I can’t get a full breath in—” 

“When you say everything hurts, is it your chest?” 

“I don’t know!” Sakusa panicked, her breathing speeding up. “I just want it to stop. Make it stop, Atsumu. Please.” 

“I would if I could, Omi.” Atsumu said. She knelt on the floor within reach of Sakusa. “C’mon. Look at me.” 

“I’m gross.” Sakusa said, her hair still shielding her face. “I’m not wearing my mask.” 

“I can assure you, I’ve seen way worse.” Atsumu reassured. “And I’m protected. Just look at me, okay?” 

Sakusa looked up, and Atsumu brushed the corner of Sakusa’s mouth with a napkin from the desk. It wasn’t demeaning. It was out of nothing but kindness. Her eyes flicked down to Sakusa’s lips, and then Atsumu gently turned Sakusa’s face from side to side. 

“You feel awake, right?” 

Sakusa nodded. 

“Tell me about your degree program.” Atsumu said. Sakusa furrowed her eyebrows. “Just do it.” 

“I’m pre-law.” Sakusa said, her voice weak. “I’m in my third year of classes. I’m in a program that’ll directly admit me to a law school in Tokyo—” 

“That’s nice.” Atsumu said. She picked up the trashcan and walked into the bathroom with it. Sakusa was worried she’d get sick again. “Are you passionate about it?” 

“No. I hate it.” Sakusa answered. “But it was either that or be a doctor. Those were the only choices my parents gave me. And I hate when people are sick.” 

Atsumu laughed. “Got it. So what would you do if not for your parents?” 

Sakusa fell quiet. Atsumu stepped back out of the bathroom, concerned at the silence. Water was running in the background. 

“I love books.” Sakusa eventually said. “I love to read. I love to write. I’d love to study literature.” She paused. “I’ve always wanted to write a book series for kids.” 

Atsumu quickly returned with the bin. She’d washed it out, so the smell didn’t make Sakusa gag anymore. She set it down by her bed. 

“C’mon. Come sit on your bed. Floor is cold.” 

Sakusa did as she was told, and once she was settled, Atsumu put the bin back into her hands. 

“Throwing up can sometimes be a symptom of COVID.” She said, her voice gentle. “So that means you still have a regular case of COVID. And before you ‘but’ me, Omi, I’ve checked you for any severe signs. You have none of them. Your face and lips are not blue. You’re awake. You’re talking to me normally.” She paused. “Your breathing is fine.” 

Sakusa hadn’t even realized she’d been breathing like usual again. She opened her mouth, but the pulse oximeter was already on her finger. 

“Ninety-six.” 

She kept her eyes on Atsumu’s. And for the first time, Sakusa felt that she fully believed her. 

“I’m okay?” Sakusa whispered, a stray tear falling out of her right eye. 

“You’re okay.” Atsumu confirmed. 

Sakusa threw up two more times. Atsumu stayed with her the whole time. 

“I’m disgusting.” Sakusa spat, tears rolling down her face. She hated throwing up. She hated that Atsumu was there to watch all of it— there to hold her hair back. There to hand her napkins.  

“You’re human.” Atsumu replied. Another gag. 

When the clock hit six, Sakusa stopped feeling nauseous. But she still felt awful. That’s what led to her sitting on one side of her dorm door. Atsumu was leaning against the other side of it. Sakusa could almost imagine what it was like to lean back-to-back with her. 

Sakusa put the back of her head against the door, relishing in the coolness on her skin. The ponytail Atsumu had tied for her was already becoming loose. 

“You need to sleep.” Sakusa croaked, hoping Atsumu would hear her. 

“I’m fine.” 

“The bags under your eyes would suggest otherwise.” 

“I took this job for a reason, Omi-Omi.” 

“Yeah, you already said.” Sakusa said. “For the pay.” 

“That’s true. But it’s not the main reason.” 

Silence fell between them. 

“It’s funny that you tell me to sleep.” Atsumu said after a while. “Not the first person in my life to do that. But the funny thing is– I can’t. I’ve had insomnia since my second year of high school.” 

“Have you tried taking melatonin?” Sakusa asked. Atsumu hit the door with her fist. 

“Never say that to an insomniac again.” She ordered, her voice still friendly. “I know you mean well, but think of it like asking someone with chronic pain if they’ve ever tried taking Tylenol.” 

Sakusa felt her face flush.

“Anyways.” Atsumu sighed. “I can’t sleep at night. So I figured I might as well get paid to get woken up in the middle of the night by vomiting pre-law students instead of getting woken up by my racing thoughts.” 

“Racing thoughts about what?” 

“My future.” Atsumu said. “It’s what made it impossible for me to sleep at night during high school.” 

“Because you didn’t know what you wanted to do?” 

“No.” Atsumu said, her voice growing quieter. “I knew what I wanted to do with my life. But I chose not to do it.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I didn’t have the strength to do it alone.” She said, her voice a faint whisper. 

Her radio went off, and Sakusa could almost see her rolling her eyes. “Gotta go Omi.” She said through the door. “Call me if you throw up again.” 

She left. Sakusa could imagine her ponytail swinging as she walked. 

Ironically, Sakusa felt much better after all the throwing up. It was almost as if it had gotten rid of the toxins in her body. Her nose slowly began to clear up. Her headache went away, and she finally felt good enough to do light exercise in her room. 

Atsumu’s visits were just as frequent. Sometimes, she’d come more than four times a day. She’d stop by with random questions for Sakusa, or with extra goodies she found throughout the dorms. The best part of Sakusa’s days were consistently when Atsumu dropped by, her eyes excited as she talked about whatever she wanted to that day. 

On the eighth day of Sakusa’s quarantine, Atsumu was weirdly quiet. 

“What is it?” Sakusa asked. Iwaizumi had done a terrible job of packing appropriate clothing for Sakusa for this entire stay, so Sakusa was forced to wear one of her tops that she’d normally wear to the bar. It was a pink, form-fitting spaghetti strap. 

Sakusa swore Atsumu had blushed when she walked in. But she quickly pointed to her earbuds. 

“Game.” Atsumu answered. “You know, the volleyball game you’re supposed to be at right now. It’s on.” 

“I don’t need to watch my own team’s game—” 

“Well, I do.” Atsumu answered, pulling out the pulse oximeter and sticking it on Sakusa’s finger. Sakusa hadn’t needed Atsumu to do this since the night she’d thrown up, as her worries quickly vanished once she started feeling better. But it still meant a lot to Sakusa. She loved how gentle Atsumu always was. 

“Ninety-seven.” She said, looking up. “And you don’t want to watch? This shit is so cool! You guys are absolutely mad. Ushijima, with her left-handed spikes. Iwaizumi and her blocks. Oikawa pisses me off to no end, though. I feel like she always makes the worst decisions.” 

“Really?” Sakusa asked, a smirk under her mask. “Can I tell her you said that? She’ll probably track you down just to slap you.” 

“Oh, go for it. I love drama.” She paused. “Anyways. Your team is one of my favorites. It’s not my top, though. That spot is reserved for my friend Aran. She’s an absolute powerhouse. No matter what team she’s on, it’ll always be number one.” 

“Aran.” Sakusa repeated to her. “Aran, like, Ojiro Aran?” 

“You know her?” Atsumu’s eyes lightened up. 

“Know of her.” Sakusa smirked. “We were both ranked top three in Japan in high school. Always wanted to meet her.” 

“Shit.” Atsumu said, amazed. “I’ll have to introduce you two up sometime after you’re free….” She drifted off. She looked to the side and lowered her voice. “I mean, only if you want to stay in touch with me after all this ends…” 

“Of course I want to stay in touch. How else am I going to get you back into volleyball?”

Atsumu’s eyes widened. She dropped her pen, and it clattered to the floor. “How’d you know?” 

“Wasn’t hard to put two and two together, Atsumu.” 

Atsumu narrowed her eyes. “Oh, no. It just was a lucky guess, wasn’t it?” 

“Yep.” 

The next four days were pure boredom, and it was hell to think that Sakusa had two more days of this. 

Sakusa had completely healed, all except for a lingering cough. A few of the student workers had stopped by and took note of that, saying that Sakusa might get to leave earlier as long as she wore masks around other people until she got two negative tests. Sakusa immediately said yes. She’d do anything to get out of this room— even for a few minutes. 

A real nurse from the health center swung by to clear Sakusa. And then she was discharged. But a sinking feeling began in her stomach when she looked at the clock. It was only five. Atsumu wouldn’t even be here for another three hours. 

They pushed Sakusa out of her room once she’d packed up. Another student who had just gotten sick needed it, so they needed to get started on cleaning. Sakusa had no choice but to wheel her suitcase home. 

I can probably call her work phone around eight or nine— Sakusa told herself. She could ask for her personal cell, and they could stay in touch with one another. Or even just say goodbye. She’d done so much for Sakusa. It felt weird to end without seeing each other once more. 

But that night, Sakusa curled up into her own bed. And her sleepiness pulled her under. 

She’d call Atsumu tomorrow. 

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. 

Sakusa had almost completely forgotten her time in quarantine. All except for the pure fear of dying that had kept her up each and every night, but Sakusa had dealt with that her entire life. University life got her busy once more, and soon enough, Sakusa stopped thinking about the self-proclaimed ‘mean’ girl who checked Sakusa’s oxygen levels every time she saw her. 

It was now February, which meant volleyball season was kicking up again. Their first game of the season was tonight, which didn’t leave her a lot of time to do her homework. She spent a few hours with her nose in the books at the library. 

At one point, she surfaced, only to see a girl across the room that looked familiar in all the wrong ways. 

She had cold, scrutinizing eyes. Gray shoulder-length hair. But the way she spoke to her friends at a nearby table— it all screamed Atsumu. The accent. The gestures. Everything. Sakusa couldn’t believe she’d gotten rid of her blonde hair. Atsumu seemed to love being blonde. 

Sakusa quietly approached their table. When she was less than three feet away, the entire table turned to look at her. 

“I’m sorry–” Sakusa felt her face flush. “I– You’re… You’re not Atsumu, are you?” 

A girl sitting across the table from Atsumu’s clone snorted. She had her hair in two braids, with some of the edgiest makeup Sakusa had ever seen. 

“Rin, stop.” The clone ordered. She looked back up at Sakusa, nearly scowling. “No, that’s my twin sister. Do I really look like her?” 

“I guess I wouldn’t know for sure.” Sakusa started. “I never saw the bottom half of her face.” 

“That explains it.” A girl with glasses said from the end. She never took her eyes off of her book. 

The clone sighed. “My name’s Osamu. Atsumu is my curse.” She furrowed her eyebrows. “Hey, aren’t you on the volleyball team?” 

Sakusa nodded. That got everyone’s attention at the table. 

“If you want to talk to her, she’ll be at the game tonight.” Osamu leaned back, her eyes darting back down to her textbook. The title read Small Business Management: Restaurants and Hospitality. “She finally got the evening off. And instead of spendin’ it with me, she wants to go see a volleyball game.” 

“Look, just because she quit volleyball when you quit doesn’t mean she stopped loving it like you did.” The girl with the edgy makeup said. “I’m tired of you disrespecting her passions, when she’s supported your dreams for years now.” 

The table got silent, as if that was a rare point of view. The edgy girl just leaned back in her seat and blew a bubble with her gum. 

Sakusa turned away without saying goodbye. And in the blink of an eye, she was at the game. She played to the best of her ability, driving each and every ball into the opponent’s floor. After making a nasty spike, she heard a voice call out to her. 

But the voice didn’t call her Sakusa, nor Kiyoomi. 

The voice had said Omi. 

Sakusa turned her head towards the sound, only to see Atsumu sitting in the front row of the bleachers. She had her hair curled, and enough makeup on her face to almost conceal the bags. Almost. 

She smiled at Sakusa, and she was beautiful in every sense of the word. Sakusa deeply regretted having to wait until now to see that smile of hers. The smile that had been concealed under an N95 for two weeks of hell. 

“See, I told ya that you weren’t going to die!” She laughed. 

Sakusa smiled back at her. Then a volleyball hit her in the side of the face, and Sakusa collapsed to the ground. 

Atsumu was the first person to run to her side, the pulse oximeter already in her hand.