Chapter Text
Hayato had always prided himself on being able to take almost anything thrown at him with relative ease.
“Hayato, your lola. She died yesterday.”
Almost anything.
His lola was one of his favourite people in the whole world. But life was fragile. And now she was gone. The phone call came on a seemingly random day. Alone in his dorm room, not a sound coming from his throat. It was quiet there. Nothing to stop him from thinking. Life really is that fragile.
What really was the meaning of life? No Hayato, don’t think of that. Smarter people before you have tried to answer that, all ending in failure. Why chase a question whose answer remains undefined?
Humans are smart creatures who know that their life will end.
The door clicked open, and Hayato was still kneeling on his bed. The thoughts were loud and daunting. Thinking too much made his head hurt.
“Hayato?” Jin was back.
“Hi.”
“You… good?” Hayato didn’t feel like hiding his feelings right now.
“No.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Hayato was quiet for a second but knew he had to let it out.
“Lola died.” He heard a sharp inhale.
“I—” Jin stopped. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Hayato curled tighter into himself, pressing his face into his knees. “I miss her.”
Jin sat down next to him on the bed, lifting his arm. Hayato got the message, immediately shuffling into the offer. Jin hugged him, and somehow that made the sadness feel a little less terrible.
The air felt thick in his lungs as he sprinted down the narrow alley, heart pounding in their chest. “No, no, no!” he gasped, hands scraping against the rough brick walls as he pushed himself harder. His eyes burned with the sting of sweat and panic.
“Eita!” he screamed, but the only response was the sound of hurried footsteps ahead. The setter was too far ahead, just out of reach.
Every step felt like the ground was slipping away from beneath him, the weight of dread pulling him down. ‘I have to catch them. I have to!’ his mind screamed, but his body was betraying him. His legs were like lead, aching from the strain, but he—they couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when Eita was so close to danger.
There, they all saw it. The abandoned building. It was just by the corner, and based on where Eita was running, he was trying to lose them where the corners cut too sharply. ‘That’s where he’d go.’ His breath caught in his throat, and for a second the world was spinning.
‘No, Hayato, you can’t lose him too. You have to go save him.’
The world slowed down as he heard all the panicked yells of panic and desperation from his friends. The distance between them and Eita seemed to stretch impossibly further. They had to reach him, if they didn’t—
‘Don’t think of that, just run!’
Hayato pushed his legs past their limits, finding his traction. He and Eita were the fastest on the team, he could catch up. He had to catch up.
‘Please, Eita, please.”
The stairs were the worst. His head was swirling with so many thoughts–they were slowing him down. He needed to stop thinking and run faster. No energy could go to waste. He had to get to Eita.
Every flight of stairs seemed to get longer each time he passed them. Eita seemed to be getting farther, and the number of stairs between them was multiplying tenfold. No one in the building was talking, every single boy focused on pushing themself forward. Yelling would waste energy. Calling out would drive Eita even further away than he already was.
Vaguely, Hayato read one of the signs signaling they were reaching the rooftop. ‘Faster, Hayato, faster! If you don’t save him now, there’ll be nothing left to save.’
He was too slow. Eita reached the roof first, slamming the door behind him. Hayato thinks he heard a lock click. This door was in his way. The door was in his way.
The sound of frantic pounding echoed in the stairwell, concrete walls amplifying each desperate hit. His fists were starting to bruise, each pitiful attempt sending fire down his arms. They collided with the door, again and again. It had to give way, it had to. Two of the others joined him. They were all out of breath from the endless flights of stairs. Their breaths came out in sharp bursts, and tears were beginning to form at the edges of his vision. Sweat began to sting his eyes, and he wiped hastily at it, never stopping.
‘I could lose Eita today.’
Newfound panic surged throughout his system, and Hayato began to kick at the door. The three of them pounded at it relentlessly. Every second mattered now. Every second they took trying to break down this door was a second that they couldn't see Eita. Each blow rattled his bones, his muscles were straining against the fatigue. ‘Don’t you dare give out on me, legs.’ the door began to creak with all the pressure, but remained stubbornly shut.
‘I can’t lose Eita too.’
He began to slam his shoulder against the door, throwing his full weight against it. The other two mimicked his moves, the door jarring even more. It still didn’t budge. The stairwell was beginning to feel suffocating, the air was thick–dust, sweat, and tears were the only scent he could register. Was the light in here bad, or was his vision cutting out?
He staggered back, breathless with his legs threatening to buckle beneath him. ‘Not when Eita is right behind this door.’ He couldn’t stop now, his legs could take a little more. His heart hammered in his chest as he slammed his foot against the door. A crack suddenly appeared where the door met the wall. ‘Just a little more now.’
His strength renewed, Hayato kicked with every bit of energy he could muster up. The door flew open, the two others beside him tripping forward with him. Hayato scrambled upwards, his eyes scanning the rooftop. There Eita was, his jacket discarded nearby as he stood dangerously close to the edge of the building. Hayato was going to lose him.
“Eita, no!” he screamed, rushing towards his friend. He needed to get to Eita. The setter whipped around, startled at his call. He was too close to the edge. He stumbled backward.
There was no floor to catch his foot. Hayato’s vision tunneled towards his friend as he watched his eyes widen in shock. Eita’s mouth opened, but no sound emerged. He watched his friend try and find his balance.
He dropped.
Hayato thought that he was going to puke.
‘Eita’s going to be a pancake of blood on the ground.’
He dived towards his friend. He didn’t let himself stop moving. Grabbing onto the side of the roof, he reached out towards his friend's hand, which seemed to have moved towards the ledge in a last-minute attempt to live. Hayato felt the sudden weight slam into his arms, threatening to pull him down as well. Eita let out a gasp as his body suddenly stopped from freefall. Hayato’s breath caught in his throat as he held onto his friend, his body teetering gradually towards the edge. The cold wind howled around them, and the ground looked further away than Hayato had originally thought.
His palms were sweaty. So were Eita’s.
He tried to steady them, but one hand carrying a whole body wasn’t going to be enough. Eita looked up, the fog in his eyes clearing up. For the first time in months, Hayato saw his friend again. Droplets of water fell upon his friend's cheeks. Was it raining? No, he was crying.
A flash of desperation went through Eita’s eyes as he began to shake. Eita was trying to shake him off. He was flailing, and Hayato only held on tighter. The sweat seemed to spite him.
‘Please.’
“I can’t lose you too.”
Eita froze for a second, and for that Hayato was grateful. Another arm shot out to grab at the setter's arm, while Hayato felt someone steadying his legs from behind. He allowed himself a glance. Wakatoshi yanked upwards forcibly, and Hayato thought he heard Eita yelp.
He watched as his friend shot up, wind tousling his hair as he landed on the roof. Immediately, he tackled for his abdomen, holding tightly. Wakatoshi held on beside him, and Reon, who had been the one steadying him, joined the odd group hug. For a few seconds, the only thing Hayato could hear was Eita’s heart.
The arms came, pushing at him, pushing him away.
“Stop it–” his voice was so hoarse, a faint light of the old fire they usually held. “Let me go. Let me free.”
Hayato squeezed. ‘I’m never letting you go. I said I was going to catch you when you fall, and I did. You’re not falling anymore.’
Eita began to shriek. He fought against them.
Hayato didn’t care. He just held on.
“Why won’t you just let me die?”
Death.
Life was a fragile thing. Hayato learned the hard way that every life did come to an end. It’s not that he didn’t know. It just didn’t feel real until someone he held dear in his heart was no longer there.
There Hayato stood, in the front row with the rest of his family. His eyes were fixated on the casket, but he wasn’t really seeing it. Everything was blurring around him, the somber faces of relatives and strangers fading into the background. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, fists clenched so tight he was sure his knuckles were white. He had never imagined being here like this before.
Never imagined seeing her like this. He didn’t think he’d never get the chance to truly say goodbye to her. Not yet.
The room was devoid of colour, wrong when he thought about who this gathering was for. His lola was full of life, seeing her dressed in no colours–
It was a dark reminder of how much was missing right now. Hayato wanted to scream, wanted to shake her awake, to see her eyes open and laugh at him. Instead, he stood there motionless, listening to the sounds of sniffling from the people around him.
He felt a lump rise in his throat, but he refused to let the tears come. Not here. Not in front of everyone. He had to be strong like lola always told him to be. But what was strength, anyway, when she was gone? What good was strength if it couldn’t bring someone back?
A wave of guilt crashed over him. He hadn’t said goodbye. Not really. His throat tightened, and for a moment, he felt the sting of something deep inside. The ache of regret. The longing. And then he thought about how she’d always made him feel safe, how she had taught him to take things one step at a time, to find the joy even in the small moments.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered under his breath, the words only meant for her, though they carried the weight of everything he didn’t know how to say. “I’m sorry.”
The people around him moved, shifting in their seats, but he didn’t budge. His gaze remained locked on the casket, the finality of it all settling over him like a cold blanket. And in the quietest corner of his mind, a part of him wanted to believe that she was still there, somehow. Watching over him. Maybe she would always be.
Hayato felt the emptiness trying to swallow him whole. Deep down, Hayato knew lola wouldn't want him to stay like this. Life is more than holding onto the past, Hayato. Life is about what you do until it ends, and the people you spend it with.
Lola wouldn’t want him to let the sorrow swallow him whole.
“Goodbye, Lola,” he whispered, the casket lowering to the ground. One of his sisters– Juri– held onto his arm.
“Kuya, lola doesn’t like the bugs. Why are they putting her there?”
Hayato sniffed, arm reaching out to hug his sister. Idine shuffled closer to his other side, and he held them. “Lola won’t mind. Now say bye-bye to lola, okay?”
Juri frowned but kept her gaze tracked on the casket. “Bye, lola.”
“We’ll miss you,” Idine added, tears dripping off her chin.
Hayato swore he heard her voice saying something to them.
“I’ll always be with you.”
He was granted a few days off from school, but he had to return eventually. He couldn’t be indoors right now, the walls were too constricting for the feelings he needed out. So here he was, sitting on a bench just on the outskirts of campus. Alone with his thoughts. Or so he had thought.
“Hayato-san?” Someone stood beside the bench.
“Taichi, you don’t need to have honorifics with me. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Taichi hummed, then somewhat awkwardly asked. “May I sit with you?”
Hayato blinked, before turning his head over. Why was Taichi here? “I mean, I dunno? Knock yourself out?”
Taichi sat down, leaving a little space between them. “How are you then, Hayato-sa— Hayato?” Hayato probably would have chuckled at the light trip in the second year's voice had he not felt so down. Might as well indulge him.
“Which answer do you want? The one that will give you peace of mind? The short but honest one? Or the stupidly elaborate monologue on how I don't understand my feelings and don’t know how to cope?” Hayato let out a dry laugh at his own attempt to lighten the mood. “Choose your journey I guess.”
Taichi gave him a look, and Hayato gulped. Was this how the setters felt from across the net?
“I want the answer that will help you get this off your chest.” His eyes widened at his kouhai’s statement. “I have time. And I won’t go until you're done.”
His heart beat a little quicker at the offer. He hadn’t expected something so… thoughtful? No, that was the wrong way to look at Taichi. Hayato knew the second year was a really caring person underneath all the seemingly cold demeanor.
“I–” He paused, finding his words. “I don’t know what to say, I was mostly joking really.”
“Tell me about her then.” Taichi glanced at him. “Your lola, I mean.”
Ah.
Hayato closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “My lola… was one of my favourite people. When I was younger, my parents had to take up more jobs to support me and my sisters. So she kind of was my main caregiver as a kid. She would tell me lots of stories, and sew my sisters so many dresses. She loved to sew.” Hayato smiled at the memory. “She’d always somehow manage to find the brightest colours of fabric for the clothes she would make us. Maybe she was trying to let us express ourselves with colour, or maybe she just liked them. I’ll never know.”
He took a shuddering breath, because he’d never get to know. “She loved to bake and cook, and let me help with all the mixing. Only the mixing though. I don’t think she trusted me anywhere near the measuring tools. Sometimes, depending on what she was making, she would let me smash things. That was really fun. You know how things taste better when you make them yourself? I felt proud being a part of making something. I mean I might just be kind of stupid right now I only mixed things and didn’t really—“
“I think that’s nice. I agree with you, making something yourself does sometimes taste better. I can’t really cook that well. I think it’s nice that you got to have such a happy experience with your Lola.” Taichi gently interrupted. Hayato smiled sheepishly.
“She taught me everything I know about baking and cooking!” he said proudly. Taichi gave him a thoughtful smile.
“You should make me something sometime then. I’d lo—like to try how your Lola made food.”
“Yeah, when she was in a kitchen, it was an experience all right. She’d always have the radio on, blasting something. It could be music, it could be the news; different every time. Every time would be like a party and some boot camp. She’d be strict with how we handled the food, but she’d let us do it for fun. I don’t know if that makes sense but that’s how it was. I’m pretty sure that she could have saved loads more time with whatever she was making if we weren’t ‘helping’ her all the time. But she had this crazy endless supply of patience. Juri and Idine would always ask like, 30 questions every time. I probably wasn’t much better myself. But she always answered them.”
“She sounds like a kind person,” Taichi observed.
Hayato nodded. “One of the kindest. Maybe it’s an old people thing, but she would sometimes tell me bits of wisdom with her stories. Mostly on how to be a better person and how to watch people. ‘Eyes are the doorway to the soul’ kind of thing. I get what she meant. Something about how people who are hurting, no matter the age their eyes look older. Like they’ve seen things they shouldn’t have. Or how checking on people can really make a difference. Thinking about it now, maybe some of these stories were a bit dark to tell a kid.” Hayato grimaced.
“How so?” Taichi raised a brow.
“Well, she told me a story about this one guy who had a neighbour. Every day, the neighbour would walk by and say hello, since the guy had a porch. The neighbour has a dog too, I remember that. And then the man on the porch would always be looking at the horizon. Every day, the neighbour said hello, and the man greeted him. But the man was a sad man. The man had lost his wife and son in an accident. So the man was going to— Yknow—” Hayato made a choking motion around his neck. “But when he checked the time, he noticed that it was the time that the neighbour would be walking his dog. And he thought, ‘my neighbour wouldn’t have someone to say hello to if I was gone’.” Hayato shrugged.
“Personally, I didn’t get it back then. But then, when the man went out to the porch again, the neighbour called out. ‘Hello, neighbour! Would you like to join me for dinner?’ And the man accepted. Soon the man and the neighbour became good friends, and the man would sometimes take care of his neighbours son. Like I said, kind of dark for a kid, but she got a message across.”
“I see. I think telling stories is a good way to get lessons across to children.” The second year mused. “Your Lola sounds smart. You still remember it now and you’re going to graduate high school.”
“She was a good storyteller.”
Taichi touched his arm. “It must run in the family.”
“Aww, you flatter me, man.” Hayato patted the other boy, before pausing. “I wonder if I’m going to see a butterfly.”
Taichi tilted his head. “A butterfly?”
“Oh right, sorry. Butterflies are like the souls of the departed. That's what my Lola said. She said when you see a butterfly, that’s a departed relative coming to visit you. It’s the same for moths too. They’re all the ancestors watching over, taking turns visiting you. She said that if she was ever turning into a butterfly, she wanted to be yellow.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, yellow is her favourite colour. It’s the colour of the sun, of the sunrise and sunset. It’s the colour of her favourite dress and her spatula. It’s also the colour of her apron that she wears when we’re baking with her. She said that yellow is a bold colour that reminds her of joy. If she was a yellow butterfly, she could be like a living star.” Hayato let himself smile wider. “I hope she gets to be a yellow butterfly.”
“I hope so too.” Taichi agreed. Do you think Eita would have become a butterfly?
Shit.
“Hayato?”
“I know that being sad is okay, but man it fucking hurts like hell.” Taichi didn’t seem deterred by the sudden change in mood, which Hayato was thankful for. He didn’t like just how fast his mood just seemed to drop. And I was doing so well.
“Sadness is normal. You lost someone as amazing as your Lola, it’s only natural you miss her.”
“It‘s just, I didn’t like seeing her in the coffin. She doesn’t like worms and beetles, and now she’s stuck down there with them! And everyone was wearing black, which I don’t think she’d really like either. But it would have felt wrong to wear colour just like it felt wrong to not. Ugh.” The third year ran his hands down his face. “You know how Eita fell off the side of that building right?”
This time, he elicited a reaction from Taichi. He seemed to grow paler, and his shoulders tensed. Quietly, he whispered. “Hard not to think about it.”
“Yeah. Same.” He shuddered. “That kind of happened the day after Lola died.”
Taichi’s jaw dropped. “Hayato— I— that sounds terrible.” Hayato wasn’t bothered by stuttering. It just felt better to finally get that out. Now he could really process it. I almost lost two of my favourite people in the same week.
“When Reon called, I fucking flipped. You can ask Jin, but I was out the door. Pretty sure I jumped all three flights. Jin was yelling at me the entire time, telling me not to injure myself. I didn’t care; one of my friends was in a bad place and slowing down could be the reason he wouldn’t get to see the sunrise again. Maybe it was desperation, maybe my Lola was helping me. I just know I’ve never run that fast before. When we were chasing him up the stairs, and then the door was jammed, I just knew I had to get that stupid thing down.” He clenched his fists.
“I couldn’t lose him. When he just, dropped… Everything else just faded out. I’m sure everyone was talking but I couldn’t hear them. Going to sound corny, but I think all my years of diving as a libero is what really helped me make that save. Both of our hands were so fucking sweaty and I swear he was about to slip out of my fingers. I was panicking so badly, man. I couldn’t lose him too, I—” He inhaled, noticing how congested his nose had become. Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he continued.
“I had to save him or I’d never forgive myself. Probably stupid of me to let go of the side of the roof too, but then Toshi and Reon grabbed me too, and then he was safe. Eita wasn’t falling; he was on solid ground. I didn’t want to let go of him because he was almost gone.” Coughing, Hayato stopped talking. Taichi immediately started patting his back to help get whatever it was clogging his throat out.
“Hayato.” Taichi switched motions, rubbing his back. He scooted a little closer, leaving just a bit of space between them. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all of that at the same time.”
“Sorry, I just dumped it on you.”
“Don’t be. I offered, this is my free will.”
He coughed one more time. “I just don’t want to think about this anymore. It hurts in so many different places I can’t tell anymore.”
“Then don’t. Think about it, I mean.” Taichi interjected. Hayato blinked incredulously at him.
“Okay.” Instead, he focused on his breathing, evening it out. “I’m not crazy, right?”
“Far from it. This is probably the most reasonable response to this abnormal situation.” Taichi said as a matter of factly.
“Sometimes I wonder if this is all just real. Who knows, maybe my brain is doing some weird brain exercises to help me cope and is imagining you.” Hayato laughed bitterly, then squinted at Taichi. “You’re real right?”
“Yes, Hayato, I’m real.” Taichi held out his hand. “See?”
Hayato took it, linking their fingers together. Taichi did feel real. His fingers were much longer than Hayato’s own, probably would be good for piano. Hayato did not notice the pink dusting on his kouhai cheeks.
“Huh. You are.” Hayato scooted closer, the distance between them disappearing. “This okay?”
“Yeah. How about you? Do you feel better?” Taichi asked, watching Hayato’s face for any signs of deceit. Probably cautious with asking about feelings.
How much have they all dealt with lies?
“Honestly yeah. You were right, I needed to get it out of my system. I feel a lot better than I did before all this.”
“That’s good.”
“Hey, Taichi?” Hayato craned his neck. The second year hummed. “Can we just stay like this?”
“Of course.”
Two days later.
He needed to move, or else this buzzing wouldn’t stop.
“Jin!” He called out. He heard a little bit of shuffling in their washroom.
“What?”
“I’m heading out! Probably for a run or something.”
“Okay!” His friend's voice reverberated in the walls. He was about to leave when Jin yelled at him. “Wait! Don’t go yet!”
Hayato paused, turning around. He really did need to get moving, but the buzz was still considerably tolerable. “What’s up, man?”
Jin opened the door, rolling his eyes. “Phone, water, keys?” Hayato blinked. “ Phone, water, keys?”
“Yeah…?”
“I don’t see that eyesore of a water bottle. You’re lying. ”
“Okay, fine, I’m missing my water bottle.” Hayato scoffed, trudging over to his side of the room. He grabbed his bottle from his sports bag, sending a half-hearted finger over to the vice-captain. “Happy now, father?”
“Yes. Now I don’t get to hear about your complaints over being dehydrated all the time. And I’m not your father.” Jin crossed his arms. “Fill that up.”
“Okay then, daddy.” He stuck out his tongue, earning victory at his friend's disgusted grimace.
“Never call me that again. I will shove a bar of soap into your mouth in your sleep.”
“Of course, da—” a towel was chucked at his face. “Rude.”
“Out. Fill up the bottle and out. ”
“We love assertive men.” The door slammed behind him. Hayato let out a dry chuckle.
Taking the elevator down, he let himself feel a pang of guilt. He just lied to his roommate.
He knew it was ironic, hypocritical even of himself to do that. Especially since he was one of the ones so against the setter doing the same thing.
But Hayato needed to move, needed to do something he thought was productive.
Which was why he was headed to the gym.
Another miss.
Hayato let out a frustrated yell, he wasn’t good enough. Another set of diving drills around one side of the court. Hard work is all I can get.
What could he do to improve? He needed to get better, so his Lola could watch from above and smile. A cursory glance around the gym gave him his answer.
I should dive around the full court.
He braced himself, panting heavily as sweat dribbled down his chin. He needed to do more, he wasn’t good enough. Talent wasn’t something he was born with. What he was born with, was persistence.
His chest slid across the floor, and he quickly pushed himself upwards. Quickly, smoothly, and efficiently. The court was lapped.
Again, he began to bump the ball into the wall, making sure to continuously push it to a single point. He had to do this, so he’d be good enough.
He slipped on some residual sweat on the floor, and he felt his ankle bend at an awkward angle.
Now Hayato wasn’t stupid. He paused, assessing how much pain he was in. He was fine, it was just a bit of a stretch. He’d just move to a new part of the gym.
Hard work and determination. That’s all he had. Soon, maybe he’d earn the right to really be on this team that had somehow managed to find him.
He missed the ball again.
His legs felt heavy, and instead, he decided to do a full sprint around the gym. He has stamina, he has determination. He could do this.
He would shine like the rest of his friends. He would show them that he was just as good as they were. He’s steadfast and steady, reliable, the libero.
Who could he ask for practice? If it were any regular scenario, he’d ask Eita. You can’t ask Eita, Hayato. He needs to get better.
Eita was usually the first one who would jump for extra practice. The setter would practice serves, the libero his receiving. Occasionally, they’d be joined by Wakatoshi, who would throw the ball to Hayato, who sent it to Eita. Eita would then set the ball high to allow their captain to hit.
But he couldn’t ask them. They had their own problems that they had to pay attention to. Eita was finally, finally actually listening to them and putting in the effort for himself. If Hayato came and presented him with his usual routine, would that not just throw all wrench at all their progress?
He can’t look to the setter to assist him in practice. Another flaw, Eita would immediately see through his act.
It’s not like Hayato is actively anxious about his skills. He just had to remind himself of a few things every time the thoughts resurfaced. Everyone might have something extraordinary about them, but that didn’t make him ordinary. Right ?
Hard work can make up for the hole talent left behind.
He’d be careful.
He pushed himself upwards, mind already racing to find a solution to his predicament. There was always asking the others, but they would catch on too quickly. He could ask some of his other friends to throw the ball at him. That could work?
Perhaps he could enlist the football team to help him. It could help with whatever their ball control needs from them.
Too much, he sent it over the net. Hayato let out another frustrated scream, running towards the balls that had rolled to the other side of the court. It was weird throwing the ball to himself, definitely not something that realistically would help him. But practice was practice.
The third year wiped at his brow, his wrist coming away slick with sweat. No good.
His water bottle was all the way at the other side of the gym.
He was exhausted, mentally, physically, and emotionally.
Would lola like to see you like this?
Hayato lay down on his back, the tears pooling in his eyes. Don’t cry alone in the gym.
The gym was silent with the exception of his haggard panting. He was sprawled out on the floor, arms outstretched as he heaved. Now that he had taken a second to stop and catch his breath, his head was spinning, the kind of dizzying exhaustion that only came from overwork. Had Eita seriously done this to himself every day?
It made Hayato feel worse for not noticing. Experiencing something made it feel more real than just hearing it from people. It’s like how he was told about death, but never really took it to heart until he saw the casket.
Until he saw Eita dangling from the roof, his palms slick with sweat.
All his muscles ached, his body didn’t even feel like his own. At least the buzzing was gone.
He shut his eyes–slow, ragged breaths–trying to find himself with all the stillness.
Footsteps. He cracked open an eye.
Taichi stared at him quietly, gently almost. The second year passed his way over to where he was lying on the floor, and sat down next to him.
“Hayato?”
Hayato gulped down some air, before responding. “Yeah?”
“In my personal opinion, I don’t think you have anything to prove.”
Hayato blanched at him, his jaw dropping slightly. “I—”
“You have nothing to prove, Hayato. You belong on this team as much as the rest of us.” The redhead stood up, walking away from Hayato. An amused thought made its way to the front of his mind. Taichi is like one of those motivational speech ads. Random words of wisdom before returning the the actual stream.
Taichi returned; in his hand, a plastic water bottle. The second year gave him a look, coaxing Hayato to sit up. Placing the bottle in his hands, Taichi sat back down.
Hayato held the bottle, releasing how thirsty he was. Sweating a lot meant he had to drink a lot. That he knew. I got carried away.
Hayato knew what overwork could do to someone. He had seen it firsthand when—
Nope. Clear thoughts, Hayato. You’ll only make yourself feel worse.
You almost couldn’t save Eita.
Ah shit, there it was.
Hayato gripped the bottle, the noise and feeling alone enough to distract from the torrent of thoughts. Taichi was still here.
The second year scrutinized him as he drank, the crackling of the plastic bottle sounding exactly how he was feeling. He looked up to the other boy, deciding to give him some reassurance he was okay.
For the first time he can remember, Hayato puts on a smile he knows is completely, utterly fake.