Chapter Text
Considering how quiet he was, no one could tell if Fukunaga was suffering from an injury or not. Sometimes this was a blessing, so the team wouldn’t be worrying or doting on him, but other times he wished people were more attentive.
Like one day, when he was feeling a subtle pain on his lower right side.
Nekoma had a training camp taking place within the next few days, and Fukunaga was looking forward to it. So, he instead chalked it up to excitement, despite the feeling not being in his stomach.
He knew it matched some symptoms of appendicitis, but he tried to assure himself by thinking that the pain would be more intense if it was said illness.
Once the arrived at the camp, it slowly faded from his mind.
Until now, that was.
The team were having a practice match against each other, when a sharp and sudden jab in Fukunaga’s lower right side made him gasp in shock and pain, placing a hand over the sore spot.
“Fukunaga, you okay?” Kuroo, who was positioned to Fukunaga’s right side, asked quietly. Fukunaga looked back at him and, being someone of few words, nodded, but the pain still persisted.
Bringing his focus back to the game proved as a good distraction, as it wasn’t until after the practice match when Fukunaga then felt the next twinge of pain, only this time stronger.
It was then when Kuroo noticed the boys dismay again, walking towards his underclassman’s hunched-up figure.
“Hey, seriously, what’s up?” Fukunaga jumped slightly at the voice, so Kuroo placed a soft hand on his back to assure him.
“I’m fine, my stomach’s just cramping a bit.”
Kuroo bit his lip, not believing that the boy was as okay as he was letting on. “Okay… well, if it gets worse, let me or someone else know. Alright?”
Fukunaga nodded, thankful that his captain left not long after. As much as he hated to admit it, he slowly felt his concern grow more and more.
Just a few more matches, Fukunaga thought helplessly, then I’ll be able to go to bed.
It was the only thing he wanted to do in that moment, to simply just fall into his futon in the shared sleeping quarters and curl up, letting sleep claim him. That mere thought was enough to get him through his current predicament.
He felt the biggest relief of his life when coach Nekomata called the team over, telling them to go shower, eat dinner and sleep.
Ah, one more obstacle.
Dinner.
Despite how hungry Fukunaga usually was after practice, the thought of eating currently did nothing but repulse him.
Regardless, he still followed his teammates to the canteen, the pain in his side affecting his gait now. He tried his best to hide it, and sincerely hoped that none of his teammates, especially Kuroo, could notice it.
Once sat on a long bench and surrounded by his teammates, Fukunaga patiently waited for the food to be prepared, despite not wanting to eat it due to the nausea churning in his stomach.
Once it was announced that everyone’s meals were ready, the Nekoma volleyball team stood up and walked over to the kitchen window, some faster than others.
Fukunaga strayed closer to Kenma, who was who was in the middle of a conversation with Kuroo near the end of the group. Kuroo, upon turning his head around, saw Fukunaga.
“Oh, where did you come from?” The older joked, somewhat spooked by Fukunaga’s sudden appearance.
Fukunaga smiled softly, but the aroma of the cooked food made him slightly dizzy, his nausea increasing. He must’ve doubled over, as he once again felt Kuroo’s hand on his shoulder.
“Fukunaga, that’s the third time you’ve done that today.” The older began. “How bad is the pain?”
Fukunaga looked up at him before answering. “Well… it’s not present all the time, it only comes in waves. But I’d say it’s around… a four or five?” He lied. He would actually put it at an eight or nine, maybe even a ten.
But Kuroo didn’t need to know that.
Neither did Kenma, who suddenly seemed quite interested in what the second and third year were talking about. Although he didn’t say anything, his gaze on Fukunaga said more than enough.
But Fukunaga’s words didn’t seem to convince Kuroo, which, in turn, made the younger more concerned.
Is it really appendicitis? He couldn’t help but think. The clinking sound of utensils brought his focus back to the line for dinner in front of him.
He grabbed a plate and reluctantly held it out in front of him, letting the lady behind the counter serve him.
“Enjoy!” She said with a smile.
Fukunaga resisted the urge to grimace as he walked back to his team’s table, looking down at his food with disdain. Trying to find an empty spot, he sat himself down in a vacant seat in between Yaku and Kai.
“Hey, Fukunaga.” The former greeted, smiling as he scooted over slightly to ensure his underclassmen had enough room, Kai doing the same.
Around ten minutes into dinner, Fukunaga had only managed to stomach a few minuscule spoonfuls of rice from the - still mostly full - bowl situated on his tray.
But a few inconspicuous glances around the table proved that no one noticed, at least, he hoped so. His gaze lingered on Kuroo the longest, wanting to make sure that the third year wasn’t worrying about him.
He tried to blend in to the atmosphere, joining in whenever the team would laugh (although he wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to be laughing at).
After what felt like hours, dinner had finally wrapped up. He didn’t want to waste food, so he offered the rest of his meal to Inuoka. The first year was quick to take the tray, but spoke before he dug into the meal.
“You feeling okay? You still have like… over half your meal left.”
“I’m fine, I’m just not that hungry.”
Inuoka just nodded and began eating. Once he was finished (Fukunaga was surprised with how fast he polished it off) he wiped down the tray and placed it back on its pile before following Fukunaga and the rest of Nekoma to where they would be sleeping.
It was one big area, with futons laid out on the floor and bags strewn across the room.
He relaxed slightly when they were allowed to go sleep, despite knowing that most of the team would be up past midnight talking to each other. But, given how tired Fukunaga was, he doubted that he would manage to stay awake for ten minutes, maybe even five.
He trudged to the bathroom and began brushing his teeth, trying not to vomit as he brushed over his tongue, the bristles triggering his gag reflex.
Returning to the sleeping area, he found his futon that he had claimed earlier and pulled back the duvet, crawling onto the softness and covering himself, curling up and letting sleep claim him.
Fukunaga didn’t realise how lucky he had it with the pain yesterday. He didn’t think it could get any worse.
Boy, was he wrong.
As soon as he came to, he gasped and curled back into himself, clenching his eyes shut again.
“Fukunaga?”
The voice made him curse inwardly.
Kuroo.
The second year couldn’t even respond, that’s how much pain he was in.
“Most of the team are downstairs for breakfast, and Inuoka told me you barely ate any of your dinner last night.”
Kuroo slowly approached the occupied futon and pulled back the duvet. Once he caught sight of Fukunaga’s pained expression, his ‘captain-mode’ kicked in.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked in a gentle voice, rubbing Fukunaga’s arm.
Fukunaga panted heavily between clenched teeth before answering. “M-My side.”
Kuroo uncovered the second year fully and saw that his hand was tightly pressed against his lower right side. He instantly knew what it meant.
Appendicitis.
And, judging by how much pain Fukunaga seemed to be in, Kuroo suspected that they didn’t have much time before it burst.
“Kuroo…” Fukunaga moaned. “Th’nk m’gonna b’sick.”
Before Kuroo could comprehend what he said, Fukunaga was already heaving up what little food he ate for dinner the previous night. A splatter sounded, and Kuroo looked over to see a greenish-yellow substance on the futon.
“Okay, alright, it’s-holy shit, Fukunaga.” That was all Kuroo could think to say. He desperately searched the room for a trash can, and spotted one in the far corner.
Grabbing it, he hastily returned to Fukunaga and held it under the sick boy’s mouth, letting him expel his stomach’s contents into it instead of the futon.
“It’s alright, just get it all up.” Kuroo tried to reassure.
Once the younger had seemingly finished his round of throwing up, he panted over the trash can, coughing every so often. Kuroo noticed that his hand had remained pressed into his lower right side, as if trying to merge the two together.
“Does your right side-“
Before Kuroo could finish, a scream ripped itself from Fukunaga’s throat as he hunched over fully, falling to the side.
“Fukunaga?! Hey, what’s wrong?!”
But Fukunaga couldn’t speak, too busy screaming at the top of his lungs to register the question.
Kuroo didn’t know what to do.
Fukunaga seemed to be paling rapidly, beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead.
The older, seemingly frozen in place, called for the first person that came to his mind.
“Naoi!”
He wasn’t sure if his call was heard, but not soon after the door to the room burst open, with Naoi’s eyes widening at the sound of Fukunaga’s screams.
“What happened?!” He asked frantically, his panting proving that he most likely ran over.
“I-I’m not sure. He said that he felt sick, and a bit after the threw up he just… screamed.”
Naoi turned to Fukunaga, seeing that he was trying to surpress his screams through clenched teeth, breath coming in ragged pants.
“I think he might have appendicitis.” Kuroo added in a whisper, hoping that he was wrong. If he was right, however, he feared that it was already too late to prevent the small organ from bursting.
“Well, I hate to say it,” Naoi began, “but if it is, then it’s probably burst.”
Kuroo felt tears spring into his eyes. “Oh my god…” He whined, bringing a hand up to his mouth.
“I’ll call an ambulance.” Naoi said and quickly dig his phone out of his pocket.
Meanwhile, Fukunaga had somehow paled even more.
“Hey, bud, it’s okay, you’ll be okay…” Kuroo tried to comfort as his coach dialled 119.
Bringing the phone up to his ear, Naoi began speaking. “My student is suffering from severe abdominal pain, I think his appendix burst.”
It somewhat bothered Kuroo how calm the older sounded, but as he saw sweat glistening on his forehead he concluded that he was just trying to keep his voice calm for the sake of the two teenage boys, although he doubted that Fukunaga was coherent enough to pick up on what was going on around him.
Kuroo still continued rubbing his arm, despite the younger looking close to passing out.
“Okay, okay. Thank you.” Naoi finished, putting his phone down. Kuroo looked at him expectantly.
“They said that the ambulance will be here in around two to five minutes, hopefully less.” He announced, glancing at Fukunaga and letting some concern seep into his gaze.
The boy was barely conscious, actively trying to not pass out. On the bright side, his screams have seemed to halt slightly, but Kuroo wasn’t sure if that was because the pain was dying down or if Fukunaga was slowly fading from them. He had a deep, lingering fear that it was the latter, however.
It seemed like an eternity had passed before sirens were heard in the distance. Two EMT’s then came into the room, one pulling Kuroo away from the ailing boy.
Kuroo was too pre-occupied with worrying to take in what the EMT’s were saying. A stretcher was wheeled in, and an oxygen mask was placed over Fukunaga’s mouth before he was lifted onto the bed and moved out of the room, into the ambulance outside.
Naoi put his hand on Kuroo’s shoulder, moving him out of the room to follow the EMT’s with Fukunaga.
Upon seeing the rest of the Nekoma volleyball team, along with coach Nekomata, all standing outside and watching the scene unfold with terrified looks (even Kenma’s eyes were wide), Kuroo realised that they all had no idea what had just happened within the last five minutes.
Nekomata turned his head upon catching movement from his peripheral vision and came bustling over, asking Naoi what was happening.
Naoi explained everything, and Kuroo wrapped his arms around himself, feeling guilty for not taking action sooner.
He knew that something was wrong with Fukunaga, he should’ve spoken to one of his coaches about the younger’s condition earlier.
“Kuroo.”
Kuroo looked up at the sound of his name, seeing coach Naoi looking at him with concern.
“We’re going to the hospital in the ambulance with Fukunaga and the EMTs. They’ll need to ask us questions.”
Kuroo walked over to the ambulance with shaky legs, but moving at a fast pace. Once in, he and Naoi sat down on a bench in the back of the vehicle and watched as the paramedics tried their best to stabilise Fukunaga.
“Hey, buddy. Can you hear me?” One of the paramedics asked. Fukunaga nodded slightly, surprising Kuroo and Naoi. They found it quite impressive how the younger had managed to stay conscious for that long whilst in so much pain.
“Okay, good. My name’s Daiki Numasi. What’s yours?”
“Sho-Shohei F-Fukuna-naga.” Fukunaga bit out through whines and whimpers of pain.
“Hi, Fukunaga.” Numasi greeted. “We’re gonna put a little needle in your arm. It’ll help with the pain until we get you to the hospital. Then we can help you more. But for now, can you try and stay awake?”
Another paramedic turned to Kuroo and Naoi whilst Numasi injected an I.V into Fukunaga’s arm, speaking in medical jargon to the other workers around him.
“You said that he was throwing up, do you know for how long he was in pain for?” She asked. Kuroo thought for a second.
“I first noticed it yesterday, but I think he first felt it a few days ago.”
The paramedic nodded. “You also said that you suspect that his appendix burst. Did you notice him clutching his right side?”
Kuroo nodded, looking back at Fukunaga’s too pale face. He tried to assure himself by thinking that the paramedics were doing everything they could to save him, so he’ll be alright.
“No, no, kid. Stay awake.”
Kuroo froze.
The one thing the paramedics had told Fukunaga not to do was the one thing that he was actively doing.
Losing consciousness.
The time between that moment and the rest of the journey seemed to pass by in a blur for Kuroo, but the ambulance doors suddenly opened, and Fukunaga was rushed out of the ambulance and whisked down a hallway, into emergency surgery.
Meanwhile, Kuroo and Naoi were led into the surgery waiting room. It was mainly barren, save for a few other people scattered around on the plastic chairs.