Work Text:
Songs:
Saturn โ SZAย
The Night We Met โ Lord Huron
Ceilings โ Lizzy McAlpine
From the Dining Table โ Harry Styles
Roslyn โ Bon Iver & St. Vincen
tAnchor โ Novo Amor
Fourth of July โ Sufjan Stevens
To Build A Home โ The Cinematic Orchestra
Space Song โ Beach House
I Found โ Amber Run
ย
โง๏ฝฅ๏พ: *โง๏ฝฅ๏พ:* โฆ *:๏ฝฅ๏พโง*:๏ฝฅ๏พโง
"Some people are meant to love quietly,
like starlightโseen by everyone,
noticed by no one."
-Unknown
โง๏ฝฅ๏พ: *โง๏ฝฅ๏พ:* โฆ *:๏ฝฅ๏พโง*:๏ฝฅ๏พโง
Shirabu Kenjirou hated unpredictability.
He liked waking up at 6:00 every morning.
Breakfast at 6:20.
Leave home at 7:05.
Train at 7:17.
School.
Practice.
Homework.
Sleep.
Then repeat.
Routine made life easier.
Routine meant there was always something to expect.
People, unfortunately, didn't follow routines.
"...Shirabu!"
A volleyball flew across the court.
He caught it before it could hit him, looking up just in time to see Tendou grinning from ear to ear.
"You actually caught it this time."
"You threw it at me."
"I was aiming for the floor."
"Liar."
"I prefer 'creative storyteller.'"
Across the gym, Semi sighed.
"Tendou."
"What?"
"You've been bothering him for twenty minutes."
"I'm encouraging team bonding."
"You're throwing volleyballs."
"They're love taps."
"They're volleyballs."
The team burst into laughter.
Even Ushijima's shoulders shook slightly.
"Captain," Tendou gasped dramatically, "did you just almost laugh?"
"I exhaled."
"THAT COUNTS!"
Shirabu shook his head.
Chaos.
Every practice ended in chaos.
And somehow...
it had become normal.
"Shirabu."
He turned.
Semi tossed him a towel.
"You've got that face again."
"...What face?"
"The one where you're silently judging everyone."
"I'm silently judging you."
Semi laughed.
"Fair enough."
For a second...
everything felt easy.
Simple.
The way Shirabu liked it.
He folded the towel over his shoulder.
"Let's finish cleaning up."
"Yes, sir."
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
They walked home together most afternoons.
Not because they'd planned it.
It had simply happened one day and never really stopped.
Semi kicked a pebble along the sidewalk.
"So..."
"Hm?"
"I've been talking to someone."
Shirabu looked at him.
"Oh?"
"A girl."
"..."
"I met her through a friend."
"...I see."
"She's really nice."
Shirabu smiled.
"I'm happy for you."
He meant it.
Mostly.
Because if anyone deserved happiness...
it was Semi.
That didn't stop something inside his chest from twisting.
It wasn't jealousy.
Not exactly.
It felt more like...
grief.
The kind that arrived before you'd actually lost something.
"You okay?"
"Hm?"
"You went quiet."
"I was listening."
Semi studied him for another second before smiling.
"Well... wish me luck."
"I hope it goes well."
"I'll let you know."
They reached the intersection where they usually separated.
"See you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."
Shirabu watched him disappear around the corner.
Only then did he let out the breath he'd been holding.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Three days later...
he noticed the first star.
It sat beneath the skin of his left wrist.
Small.
White.
Almost glowing.
"..."
He rubbed at it.
Nothing happened.
He frowned.
Maybe he'd bruised himself.
Maybe the lighting was strange.
Maybeโ
His phone buzzed.
Running late.
Again.
He buttoned his sleeve over it and hurried out the door.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
By the following week...
there were four.
They scattered across his wrist like tiny pieces of the night sky.
Beautiful.
Almost delicate.
He found himself staring at them far longer than he should.
He even took a photo.
When he looked at his gallery that evening...
he couldn't remember taking it.
"...Weird."
He deleted it.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
"Wrong side."
Coach Washijล's voice echoed through the gym.
Shirabu blinked.
He'd set to the opposite side.
Something he'd never done.
"My apologies."
"Again."
He inhaled.
Reset.
This time the toss landed perfectly.
The next one.
Perfect.
Again.
Perfect.
Coach simply nodded and moved on.
But Shirabu couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his stomach.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
The stars spread.
One appeared beneath his collarbone.
Another across his shoulder.
Thin silver lines seemed to connect them whenever the light caught his skin.
He stopped wearing short sleeves whenever possible.
Nobody asked why.
Until Tendou did.
"You're seriously wearing long sleeves in this weather?"
"I'm cold."
"It's thirty degrees."
"I get cold easily."
"...You're terrifying."
Shirabu ignored him.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
He forgot his locker combination.
Then a homework assignment.
Then where he'd put his pencil case.
Tiny things.
Embarrassing things.
Things everyone forgot occasionally.
He told himself he was overthinking it.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
"...Shirabu?"
Semi's voice pulled him back.
"Hm?"
"You've been staring at your notebook for five minutes."
"...Have I?"
"You haven't written anything."
Shirabu looked down.
The page was blank.
"...Sorry."
"You sure you're okay?"
"I'm just tired."
Semi didn't look convinced.
"You know..."
He hesitated.
"I asked that girl out."
"..."
"...She said yes."
For one tiny moment...
Shirabu forgot how to breathe.
Then he smiled.
A practiced smile.
"I'm happy for you."
Semi grinned.
"Thanks."
He looked genuinely happy.
Shirabu decided that was enough.
If Semi could smile like that...
then it didn't matter how his own heart felt.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Practice ended late.
The locker room was almost empty.
Steam drifted from the showers.
Shirabu pulled off his jersey.
He caught sight of himself in the mirror.
The stars had multiplied again.
They stretched over half his shoulder now.
Silver threads linked them together.
Not randomly.
Purposefully.
As though someone was drawing something.
His fingers brushed over them.
He couldn't feel a thing.
The locker room door opened.
"There you are!"
Tendou walked in carrying his bag.
His smile disappeared instantly.
"...Shirabu."
Shirabu turned too quickly.
"What?"
"...Your shoulder."
Instinctively, he reached for his shirt.
"It's nothing."
"Don't."
"..."
"Please."
There was something in Tendou's voice Shirabu had never heard before.
Fear.
Real fear.
Slowly...
Shirabu lowered his hand.
Tendou stepped closer.
His eyes widened.
"No..."
He whispered it so quietly Shirabu almost didn't hear.
"No, no..."
"What?"
"...Where did you get those?"
"I don't know."
"When?"
"A few weeks ago."
"A fewโ"
Tendou's face drained of colour.
"...That's impossible."
"You know what this is?"
"..."
"Tendou?"
Instead of answering...
Tendou stumbled backwards until he hit the lockers.
His breathing had become uneven.
Almost panicked.
"...No."
"What?"
"...It can't be."
"Tendou."
"My grandmother..."
"What?"
"When I was little..."
He laughed once.
A humourless sound.
"She used to tell me stories."
"Stories?"
"About people who carried the stars beneath their skin."
Shirabu frowned.
"...You're joking."
"I wish I was."
He stared at the silver lines crossing Shirabu's shoulder.
His hands trembled.
"My grandmother said they weren't blessings."
"..."
"They were farewells."
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
That night...
Tendou didn't sleep.
He searched through old books.
Folklore archives.
Medical journals.
Anything.
Anything that proved his grandmother had been wrong.
Hours passed.
Thenโ
He found it.
A scanned journal.
Nearly fifty years old.
Published by a rural hospital.
Only four pages long.
The title read:
Constellation Disease.
His heartbeat stopped.
He clicked it open.
A rare neurological and dermatological condition believed to be triggered by prolonged, unrequited romantic attachment.
His eyes raced down the page.
Initial symptoms include luminous, star-like markings beneath the skin...
Exactly like Shirabu.
As the disease progresses, the markings connect into constellation-like formations...
Exactly like Shirabu.
Patients experience progressive episodic memory loss...
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
His breathing caught.
Forgotten homework.
Locker combinations.
Blank pages.
Everything suddenly made sense.
He kept reading.
Searching desperately for treatment.
For recovery.
For hope.
Then he reached the final paragraph.
His hands froze over the keyboard.
The article contained no cure.
No successful treatment.
Only one final sentence.
When the constellation is complete, no further observations have ever been recorded.
"..."
Tendou stared at the screen.
"No..."
He whispered it once.
Then again.
"Liar..."
His chair scraped violently against the floor as he stood.
"There has to be something else."
He searched until dawn.
Another paper.
Another hospital.
Another country.
Anything.
He found three more references.
Every single one ended the same way.
No further observations.
By morning...
he wasn't trying to prove the disease existed anymore.
He was desperately trying to prove it was wrong.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Shirabu didn't notice Tendou watching him the next morning.
He was too busy trying to remember where he'd left his train pass.
It took him almost ten minutes to find it.
It had been sitting in the front pocket of his school bag the entire time.
"..."
He frowned.
"I checked there."
His mother looked up from washing the dishes.
"What was that?"
"...Nothing."
He wasn't sure whether he'd actually checked.
That bothered him more than forgetting itself.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Practice usually began with the same routine.
Stretching.
Warm-ups.
Passing drills.
Blocking.
Coach Washijล barking instructions.
Today was no different.
At least...
it should have been.
"Tendou!"
Coach's voice echoed across the gym.
"You're late."
"My apologies, Coach."
Shirabu glanced up.
Tendou looked exhausted.
Dark circles sat beneath his eyes.
His hair was even messier than usual, as though he'd run his hands through it all night.
"You look awful," Semi commented.
"I've looked awful my whole life."
"You know that's not what I meant."
"I know."
Normally, Tendou would've laughed.
Made a joke.
Started pestering Goshiki.
Instead...
he walked silently to his position.
His eyes found Shirabu almost immediately.
Then they stayed there.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
"Goshiki."
"Huh?"
"Watch your footwork."
"Ohโright!"
"Goshiki."
"Sorry!"
"Goshiki."
"I KNOW!"
The first-years snickered.
Reon chuckled under his breath.
Even Coach sighed.
Shirabu opened his mouth to call the next drill.
Nothing came out.
"..."
"...Shirabu?"
Semi looked over.
"You good?"
Shirabu blinked.
"...What drill comes next?"
Silence.
Not a long silence.
Just...
long enough.
Semi frowned.
"The rotational receive drill."
"...Right."
Of course.
He knew that.
He'd planned the practice order himself.
Hadn't he?
The thought slipped away before he could grab hold of it.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
During the water break, Goshiki whispered far louder than he intended.
"Is Shirabu-san sick?"
"I don't know," Yamagata replied quietly.
"He keeps spacing out."
"He never spaces out," Reon added.
Across the gym, Ushijima took another drink from his bottle.
"He is making more unforced mistakes."
Coach looked up.
"He is."
No one said anything else.
The silence itself was unusual.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
"Kenjirou."
Shirabu looked over.
Tendou stood in the hallway outside the gym.
His expression was serious.
Too serious.
"We need to talk."
"...Now?"
"Please."
Shirabu excused himself and followed him into the empty corridor.
For several moments...
neither spoke.
Finally, Tendou took a folded stack of papers from his bag.
"I found something."
"What?"
"...About those stars."
Shirabu's stomach tightened.
"You actually researched them?"
"I didn't stop."
He handed over the papers.
Old scans.
Medical notes.
Highlighted paragraphs.
Shirabu skimmed the first page.
Then the second.
His expression remained calm.
Almost unreadably so.
"...Constellation Disease."
"So you've heard of it?"
"No."
"I hadn't either."
Silence.
"It's real."
"I can see that."
"It says..." Tendou swallowed. "It says the memory loss gets worse."
"I know."
"You knew?"
"I didn't know why."
Shirabu looked down at the papers again.
"I've been forgetting things for weeks."
His voice was quiet.
Matter-of-fact.
As if he were discussing tomorrow's weather.
"I thought I was just tired."
Tendou stared at him.
"Why are you so calm?"
Shirabu didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he folded the papers carefully.
Lined up the corners.
Smoothed them flat.
Only then did he speak.
"...Because panicking won't change it."
The words were logical.
Measured.
Exactly what Shirabu would normally say.
Yet they made Tendou's chest ache.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
"They think it's caused by..."
Tendou hesitated.
"...Unreturned love."
Shirabu closed his eyes.
For just a second.
When he opened them again, there was a faint smile.
"So that's what it is."
"You knew?"
"I had a guess."
"You..."
Tendou couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.
"You like Semi."
It wasn't a question.
Shirabu looked toward the gym.
Semi was laughing at something Goshiki had said.
The sound carried down the hallway.
"...Yes."
One word.
Barely louder than a whisper.
Tendou had expected denial.
Embarrassment.
Anything.
Instead...
there was only acceptance.
"He doesn't know."
"No."
"He shouldn't."
"Shirabuโ"
"He has a girlfriend."
"..."
"He's happy."
Tendou clenched his fists.
"So what?"
"So why would I ruin that?"
"You wouldn't ruinโ"
"I'd only make things harder."
His smile was small.
Gentle.
"I don't want his first thought after hearing my feelings to be guilt."
That sentence hurt more than Tendou expected.
Because it sounded exactly like something Shirabu would believe.
And exactly like something he didn't deserve.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Practice resumed.
The atmosphere felt different.
At least to Tendou.
Every time Shirabu rubbed absentmindedly at his wrist...
Tendou noticed.
Every time he paused a fraction too long before calling a play...
Tendou noticed.
Every tiny mistake.
Every hesitation.
Every forgotten word.
He noticed all of them.
Which meant...
he also wasn't paying attention to anything else.
"Tendou!"
Coach's whistle shrieked.
"The ball."
A spike landed untouched beside him.
"...Sorry."
Coach frowned.
"That's twice today."
"It won't happen again."
But it did.
Three more times.
By the end of practice...
even Goshiki had stopped joking.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
As everyone packed up, Reon nudged Semi.
"Something's off."
"Hm?"
"With those two."
Semi looked across the room.
Tendou was talking quietly to Shirabu.
Not smiling.
Not teasing.
Just talking.
"...Yeah."
"I've never seen Tendou that serious."
"Me neither."
Goshiki wandered over.
"Do you think they argued?"
"Tendou?" Yamagata laughed softly. "He'd announce it to the whole prefecture if he argued with someone."
"True."
"So..."
"What changed?"
No one had an answer.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
"Promise me something."
They stood outside the gym as the sun dipped lower.
Tendou looked at Shirabu.
"What?"
"Don't tell Semi."
"..."
"Please."
"You can't ask me that."
"I'm asking anyway."
"He deserves to know."
"He deserves to be happy."
"So do you."
A faint breeze stirred the trees.
For a long time...
Shirabu watched the first evening star appear above the rooftops.
"I've liked the night sky since I was little."
Tendou looked up too.
"My grandfather used to tell me every star had someone watching over it."
He smiled faintly.
"I never believed him."
Another pause.
"But..."
He looked back at Tendou.
"I've always thought the sky was quiet."
"The world gets loud."
"People expect things."
"Volleyball expects things."
"School expects things."
"The stars..."
He exhaled slowly.
"They've never expected anything from me."
Tendou felt his throat tighten.
He wanted to say it wasn't fair.
That Shirabu shouldn't have to carry this alone.
That there had to be another answer.
Instead...
he nodded once.
"...I won't tell him."
Shirabu smiled.
This time...
it reached his eyes.
"Thank you."
It was the first genuine smile Tendou had seen from him in weeks.
And somehow...
that made it hurt even more.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
That evening, when Shirabu arrived home, he stopped in the doorway of his room.
Something felt...
wrong.
He looked around.
Desk.
Bookshelf.
Bed.
Window.
Everything was exactly where it should have been.
Then his eyes landed on the framed photograph beside his desk.
Shiratorizawa's volleyball team.
He picked it up.
Smiled faintly.
"...When was this taken?"
He searched his memory.
Nothing came.
Only a vague feeling of warmth.
As though he should remember.
As though the answer was just beyond reach.
He placed the frame back exactly where it had been.
Then quietly reached for a notebook.
On the first page, he wrote:
Things I don't want to forget.
He stared at the blank page for a long time before adding the first line.
The night sky is quiet.
Then he paused.
The pen hovered over the paper.
There was someone else he wanted to write down.
Someone important.
He knew there was.
He just couldn't remember why.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
The notebook started small.
At first, it was practical.
Things Shirabu knew he should remember.
The password to my school laptop.
My train schedule.
The order Coach likes drills done.
Things that annoyed him when he forgot them.
Things that felt embarrassing.
Things he refused to admit scared him.
But eventually...
the pages changed.
They became less like reminders.
More like proof.
Proof that he had been there.
Proof that he had lived those moments.
Proof that they had mattered.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Tendou likes strawberry milk.
Shirabu stared at the sentence.
He didn't remember learning that.
But he knew it was true.
The next day, he watched Tendou buy one from the vending machine.
His eyes narrowed.
"You actually drink that?"
Tendou turned.
"What?"
"Strawberry milk."
"..."
"Why?"
Tendou looked offended.
"Because it's good."
"It's sugar."
"It's happiness in a carton."
Shirabu almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Tendou noticed.
"You wrote it down, didn't you?"
The smile disappeared.
"..."
Tendou's expression softened.
"Shirabu."
"It's just information."
"No."
A pause.
"It's a memory."
Shirabu looked away.
He hated that Tendou understood him so easily.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
The team noticed.
Of course they noticed.
They knew Shirabu.
Maybe not as well as Tendou did.
Maybe not as well as Semi did.
But they knew him enough.
They knew he didn't forget things.
They knew he didn't hesitate before setting.
They knew he didn't stare at empty pages like they were written in another language.
"You okay?"
Goshiki asked one afternoon.
Shirabu looked up.
The younger boy immediately looked embarrassed.
"I meanโ"
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"You just seem different."
"I'm fine."
Goshiki frowned.
"You always say that."
"...Because it's true."
It wasn't exactly a lie.
Not completely.
He was still Shirabu.
He still practiced.
He still studied.
He still complained when Tendou was annoying.
He was still here.
Wasn't that enough?
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
It became harder to hide from Semi.
That was the problem.
Semi noticed everything.
He noticed when Shirabu drank less water.
When he looked tired.
When he stopped arguing with Tendou as much.
Actually...
that last one worried him the most.
Because Shirabu arguing with Tendou had always been normal.
"You haven't told Tendou he's annoying in three days."
Shirabu blinked.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Maybe I improved as a person."
Semi laughed.
"No way."
A small smile appeared on Shirabu's face.
There.
That was what Semi wanted.
That normal expression.
That familiar one.
But then Shirabu looked away.
And Semi felt that strange feeling again.
Like something was slipping away.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
"You should tell him."
Tendou said it quietly.
They were sitting on the hill behind the school.
The same place Shirabu went whenever the world became too loud.
"The stars are getting brighter."
Shirabu looked down.
The silver lines beneath his skin shimmered faintly.
"I know."
"So?"
"So nothing."
Tendou looked frustrated.
"You always do this."
"Do what?"
"Act like you don't matter."
Silence.
The words hit harder than Tendou expected.
Shirabu looked at the sky.
"I matter."
"Then act like it."
"I am."
"No, you're protecting everyone else."
Shirabu didn't answer.
Because Tendou was right.
And Shirabu hated that.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Semi found the notebook by accident.
It wasn't supposed to happen.
He wasn't trying to look.
He had only been searching for Shirabu's notes after practice.
The black notebook slipped from beneath a textbook.
He caught it before it hit the ground.
The cover was blank.
No name.
Nothing.
He should have put it back.
He knew that.
But then he saw the first page.
Things I don't want to forget.
Semi froze.
He turned one page.
Then another.
His expression changed.
Because the notebook wasn't filled with homework.
Or volleyball strategies.
Or schedules.
It was filled with memories.
Small ones.
Important ones.
Tendou's terrible jokes.
Ushijima's inability to understand sarcasm.
Goshiki getting embarrassed when praised.
Semi Eita likes playing guitar when he's stressed.
Semi stopped.
His fingers tightened around the page.
Why...
Why was he written down like that?
Like something fragile.
Like something Shirabu was afraid of losing.
The locker room door opened.
"You're still here?"
Semi quickly closed the notebook.
Shirabu stood there.
The two stared at each other.
For a moment...
neither spoke.
Then Semi held it out.
"You dropped this."
Shirabu took it.
Their fingers brushed.
Semi almost asked.
Almost.
But something stopped him.
Maybe it was Shirabu's expression.
Maybe it was the way he looked tired.
Maybe it was the way he held the notebook like it was the only thing keeping him steady.
"...Thanks."
Semi nodded.
"Yeah."
Neither of them said anything else.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
That night, Semi couldn't sleep.
Something was wrong.
He knew it.
Everyone knew it.
But nobody knew what.
The next morning, he finally asked Tendou.
"What happened to Shirabu?"
Tendou went still.
Just for a second.
But Semi noticed.
Because Semi noticed everything too.
"...What do you mean?"
"You know something."
"No, I don't."
"Tendou."
The redhead looked away.
And that was answer enough.
Semi's voice softened.
"Is he sick?"
Tendou didn't respond.
He didn't have to.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
That evening, Shirabu sat alone outside.
The stars above him were brighter than usual.
He opened his notebook.
The newest page was empty.
For some reason...
that scared him more than anything.
Slowly, he wrote:
The night sky is quiet.
He stared at the sentence.
Then added:
I hope I remember why I love it.
He closed the notebook.
Above him, the stars continued shining.
And for once...
Shirabu didn't try to count them.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Tendou didn't tell anyone.
Not at first.
He wanted to.
Every time he looked at Shirabu during practice, he wanted to.
Every time Shirabu hesitated before a set.
Every time he stared at his own hands.
Every time he smiled and said he was fine.
Tendou wanted to scream.
He wanted someone else to know.
Someone else to carry the fear with him.
But every time he remembered Shirabu's words...
He doesn't need to know.
He deserves to be happy.
So Tendou stayed quiet.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
The problem was...
Tendou was terrible at pretending.
Usually, everyone expected him to be loud.
Annoying.
Dramatic.
Impossible to ignore.
So when he became quiet...
everyone noticed.
Especially Ushijima.
"You're distracted."
Tendou looked up.
"Huh?"
"You missed three blocks."
"..."
That was bad.
Really bad.
Even Goshiki noticed.
"Tendou-san?"
"What?"
"Are you okay?"
Tendou immediately smiled.
"Of course!"
Too fast.
Everyone looked at him.
The smile slowly disappeared.
"..."
"You're bad at lying."
Reon said calmly.
Tendou frowned.
"Wow. Attacking me during my emotional vulnerability?"
"Yes."
"Fair."
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Shirabu noticed too.
Of course he did.
"You haven't been yourself."
Tendou froze.
The irony almost made him laugh.
Because that was exactly what everyone was saying about Shirabu.
"I could say the same thing."
Shirabu looked away.
"Don't worry about me."
Tendou's expression softened.
"That's impossible."
A pause.
"You know that, right?"
Shirabu didn't answer.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Eventually, the team figured it out.
Not the whole truth.
Not immediately.
Just pieces.
They noticed Shirabu forgetting things.
They noticed Tendou watching him.
They noticed the way Tendou always seemed ready to catch him if he fell.
They noticed the notebook.
Especially Goshiki.
"What is that?"
Shirabu looked up.
"What?"
"That notebook."
"Oh."
His fingers tightened around it.
"It's nothing."
Goshiki tilted his head.
"You never write things down."
A pause.
Shirabu looked away.
"I do now."
Something about the answer made Goshiki quiet.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
The first person Tendou told was Reon.
Not because he wanted to.
Because Reon asked.
"You look scared."
Tendou went still.
"What?"
"You."
Reon looked at him.
"You're scared."
Nobody said things like that to Tendou.
Usually they assumed he was joking.
Usually they ignored the serious moments hidden behind the jokes.
But Reon noticed.
Everyone's feelings.
Everyone's changes.
Everything.
"I can't tell you."
Reon didn't push.
"Okay."
That surprised Tendou.
"But..."
Reon looked toward the gym.
"Shirabu is our teammate."
Silence.
"He doesn't have to tell us everything for us to support him."
That was when Tendou finally broke.
Not completely.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Enough to whisper:
"Something is wrong."
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
After that, they learned slowly.
Tendou explained.
Not everything.
Not the details Shirabu wanted hidden.
But enough.
Enough for them to understand.
Enough for them to help.
And the first thing they agreed on was:
"Semi doesn't know."
Everyone looked at Tendou.
He nodded.
"Shirabu doesn't want him to."
Nobody argued.
Because they all knew Semi.
Semi cared too much.
He would blame himself.
He would try to fix something that couldn't be fixed.
And Shirabu...
would hate that.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
The notebook changed after that.
At first, Shirabu only wrote things he was afraid of forgetting.
Schedules.
Names.
Important information.
But one day...
he left it on the bench.
And when he came back...
there was another page.
Different handwriting.
Tendou is annoying. Unfortunately, he is also a good friend.
Shirabu stared.
He immediately knew who wrote it.
"Tendou."
The redhead smiled innocently.
"What?"
"Why?"
"Because it's true."
"I didn't ask for this."
"You needed it."
"I did not."
"You kept it."
Shirabu went silent.
Because he had.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
After that, everyone added something.
Quietly.
When Shirabu wasn't looking.
Goshiki wrote:
You were the first person who believed I could improve. Even when you insulted me while saying it.
Reon wrote:
You notice things people think nobody sees.
Yamagata wrote:
You pretend you're annoyed, but you care about us.
Ushijima wrote:
You are an excellent setter. The team trusts you.
Shirabu read every single one.
He never mentioned them.
But he never removed them either.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Semi noticed the notebook once.
Only once.
He saw everyone suddenly become protective of it.
He saw Tendou immediately take it away.
He saw Shirabu's expression.
"What's in there?"
Shirabu closed it.
"Nothing."
Semi raised an eyebrow.
"That's suspicious."
"It's a notebook."
"You're suspiciously protective of a notebook."
"It's mine."
Semi laughed.
"Fair."
And that was it.
He didn't ask again.
Because Semi trusted Shirabu.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
That trust was exactly why Shirabu never told him.
Because Semi would listen.
Semi would stay.
Semi would make him feel like he wasn't alone.
And somehow...
that was the hardest part.
Because Shirabu didn't want to become someone's reason to hurt.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
The days continued.
Practice.
Classes.
Laughter.
Arguments.
Normal things.
Except everyone knew they weren't normal anymore.
Everyone except Semi.
And maybe...
that was the way Shirabu wanted it.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
The last few days felt strangely normal.
That was what made it worse.
Shirabu still complained about Tendou.
Tendou still annoyed him.
Goshiki still asked too many questions.
Semi still argued with him over every little thing.
Nothing felt like an ending.
And maybe that was because Shirabu never wanted it to.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
The last day anyone saw him...
Semi didn't notice anything different.
That was the part that hurt the most.
Not because he had done something wrong.
Not because he should have known.
But because when he looked back on that moment, there was nothing unusual.
Nothing that would have warned him.
Nothing that would have told him to stay a little longer.
It was just Shirabu.
Standing outside the gym.
Holding his bag.
Looking up at the sky.
"You heading home?"
Semi asked.
Shirabu looked over.
"Yeah."
"You leaving before everyone else?"
A small pause.
Then Shirabu nodded.
"Apparently, I can."
Semi laughed.
"Wow. Character development."
"You're annoying."
"There he is."
For a moment...
everything felt normal.
Like tomorrow would come.
Like there would be another practice.
Another argument.
Another day.
"See you tomorrow."
Semi said it without thinking.
Two simple words.
Nothing special.
Nothing important.
Shirabu looked at him.
And smiled.
"Yeah."
A quiet answer.
"Tomorrow."
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
The next morning...
Semi waited.
Five minutes.
Then ten.
Then twenty.
At first, he wasn't worried.
Shirabu was probably late.
Rarely.
Almost never.
But it happened.
"He's probably just being difficult."
Semi muttered.
Because that explanation made sense.
Shirabu being stubborn made sense.
Shirabu being missing didn't.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
An hour passed.
Then two.
Messages were sent.
Calls were made.
No answer.
Semi stared at his phone.
"He didn't tell anyone?"
The question was quiet.
Nobody answered.
Because they knew.
They knew Shirabu had chosen this.
They knew why.
And they knew the one person who deserved to know...
was the one person Shirabu refused to tell.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
"What do you mean you knew?"
Semi's voice wasn't angry.
That was worse.
He stood in front of the team after practice.
Everyone was silent.
Tendou looked away.
Goshiki looked like he wanted to say something.
Reon stopped him.
Because they all remembered.
The promise.
The one Shirabu made them keep.
Semi looked between them.
"You all know something."
Silence.
"Tendou."
The redhead froze.
"Satori."
The use of his first name made Tendou look down.
Semi only used it when he was serious.
"Tell me."
Tendou clenched his hands.
Because he wanted to.
He wanted to tell him everything.
About the stars.
About the notebook.
About every moment Shirabu had spent pretending he was okay.
But then he remembered Shirabu's expression.
The quiet request.
Please don't tell him.
"I'm sorry."
Semi stared.
Those two words hurt more than an explanation.
"What do you mean, you're sorry?"
Nobody answered.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Later that night...
Tendou sat alone with the notebook.
The same notebook everyone had written in.
The same notebook Shirabu had carried everywhere.
Pages filled with memories.
Small things.
Important things.
Things Shirabu didn't want to lose.
Things they didn't want him to lose.
Tendou turned the pages slowly.
Goshiki's messy handwriting.
Reon's careful words.
Ushijima's simple sentences.
Yamagata's jokes.
And then...
A sentence written in familiar handwriting.
Semi's.
Something he had written before he knew.
Before anyone knew.
You're a pain to deal with. But the gym wouldn't feel the same without you.
Tendou stared at it.
Because Semi didn't even know.
He didn't know how much that sentence meant.
He didn't know Shirabu had kept it.
He didn't know how many times Shirabu had read those words.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
Far away...
under the same sky...
Shirabu sat quietly.
The notebook rested beside him.
The pages were filled.
Every memory.
Every name.
Every person who had made his life brighter.
He traced the handwriting with his fingers.
They had all left pieces of themselves behind.
So he wouldn't forget.
So he could remember.
The stars above him shone softly.
The same stars he had always loved.
The same stars that had always been quiet.
The same stars that had always listened.
He looked down at the constellation beneath his skin.
The final lines had connected.
The last pieces had fallen into place.
For once...
he wasn't afraid.
Because even if he couldn't carry every memory with him...
they would.
They would remember.
They would know he was here.
That he laughed.
That he cared.
That he loved.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
The stars had finally connected.
A perfect constellation stretched across his skin.
Beautiful.
Complete.
He looked up at the night sky.
For a moment...
it almost looked like the stars were trying to welcome one of their own.
โโโโโโโโ โโ โโ โ โโโโโโโโ
ย
โโโ ๏ฝฅ ๏ฝก๏พโ: *.โฝ .* :โ๏พ. โโ โฆ A / N โฆ โโ ๏ฝฅ ๏ฝก๏พโ: *.โฝ .* :โ๏พ. โโโ
Yall have no idea how much i cried writing and rereading this.
- โพ*ฬฉฬฉอหฬฉฬฅฬฉฬฅโง ๐จ๐ธ๐ป๐พ โงหฬฉฬฅฬฉฬฅ*ฬฉฬฉอโพ