Cherry Blossom

〚 1 〛

They were in the change rooms, all exhausted from the practice and ready to head home. Hinata and Kageyama were arguing about something and Hinata didn’t have his pants on, looking quite unthreatening against the dark haired teen. Tsukishima was facing Yamaguchi, talking to him. As usual, he nonchalantly used his own body to shield Yamaguchi as he changed—Suga didn’t know if Yama asked Tsukishima to do so, or if the blond just knew that his freckled friend was uncomfortable changing in front of the others.

            It felt like a usual night. Daichi was seated beside Suga on the bench, tying his shoes and putting his practice clothes and shoes into his bag. Suga, already ready, quietly watched and waited for Daichi to be finished. Slowly, the others were trickling out of the change room, calling goodbyes as they went.

            “Don’t forget about practice tomorrow morning!” Daichi called after them. Tanaka and Noya shouted something back, but Suga couldn’t make sense of it. After Tsukishima and Yama left, then it was just Daichi and Suga by themselves.

            Suga sighed and let his head fall back against the wall gently, closing his eyes. His body felt heavy and he couldn’t wait to sink into his bed. How he was going to make it to practice tomorrow, he had no idea.

            “Make sure you get a good night’s sleep, yeah?” Daichi said, his voice soft. “You were out of it today.”

            “It’s been a sleepy week. I’ll be fine,” Suga assured, giving his boyfriend a warm smile. “Come on. Let’s go. I have some studying to do before I can go to bed.”

            The two stood up and left the gym, turning off light as they went and Daichi locked the doors. They walked in silence down the roads and Suga couldn’t help but notice how bright the stars were, the sky free of clouds or pollution. Daichi held onto one of the straps of Suga’s bag, making sure he was walking straight as he stared at the sky.

            “What test do you have to study for?” Daichi wondered, pulling Suga close to him.

            “Biochemistry.”

            Daichi laughed. “You’ve been studying for that test for weeks it seems like. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

            “I have a reputation to keep and it’s a big test. Just because I have good grades doesn’t mean I don’t work for them, mister. Biochemistry is painfully hard for me.”

            As they approached the intersection that they parted ways at, they slowed to a stop and Daichi pulled Suga’s head towards himself and gave him a kiss, saying, “You’ll do great. I have great faith in you Sugawara Koushi.”

            “I’m flattered, but I’m still going to study tonight. So if you would please let me go, that’d be great.” He twisted out of Daichi’s hold and blew a kiss towards him as he backed away. “I won’t miss tomorrow’s practice. Goodnight!”

            Once he was on his way to his own house, Suga decided he would cut across the park that was a block away from his house. It would save him at least ten minutes of walking and that way he could get home and have more time to study. So instead of going straight along the road as he normally would, Suga turned left and stepped through the cherry blossom trees that filled the park.

            Out of the streetlights now, it seemed much darker. The night seemed to press against Suga and he automatically felt like there was someone watching him.

            He was too busy looking over his shoulder to notice the man sitting on the park bench just to his right. When the man spoke up, Suga nearly jumped right out of his skin. He clutched his chest and froze, terror icing through his bones. When he noticed that it wasn’t some horrible monster or terrifying saw wielding murderer, he laughed shakily and apologized.

            “No, no, I’m sorry for scaring you,” the man said. He was slim, but well built and had a knitted hat on his head, smart looking glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. In his hands he held a dog leash and a dog biscuit. “I’m just from the neighbourhood over there and my dog got out of our backyard again. You haven’t seen a medium sized poodle, have you?”

            “Oh, I live just over there too!” Suga replied, smiling. He looked around him one last time than said, “But, no, sorry I haven’t seen any dogs. What’s it’s name?”

            The man slipped the dog biscuit into his pocket and adjusted his hat. “Her name’s Donut, but I don’t think she knows that. She’s pretty bad at coming when called, hence the reason why I have a cookie to entice her with. If you don’t mind, could you keep an eye out for her?”

            “Yeah, no problem. Do you have a phone? If I see anything I’ll let you know,” Suga offered, pulling his own cell out of his pocket.

            The two exchanged numbers quickly and then Suga said goodbye, turning his back to the man.

            He walked three steps when he felt an arm snake it’s way around his neck and pull him to the ground. He gave a surprised shout, but it was cut off as his back and head smashed into the ground. There was blood in his mouth suddenly and he was too shocked to realize what was happening as something soft and fuzzy was forced into his mouth, and then secured in place with a rope of some sort.

            It was the man he had just been talking to. He was on top of Suga, and his hat was in Suga’s mouth. It was being held in place by a dog collar. The leash that the man had been holding was suddenly being wrapped around Suga’s wrists, tying them together tightly.

            “I really am sorry for scaring you,” the man said, finishing binding Suga’s wrists together. “But the second I saw your scared face; I couldn’t help myself. You look so vulnerable scared. It’s beautiful. I’ve been here every night for two weeks waiting for someone like you to come along.”

            Suga could not breathe between the hat in his mouth and the man’s weight on top of him. He was surprised by the fact that he was not crying. He felt too scared for tears. His fear was overwhelming any other sort of emotion.

            The man was still talking, but now he had placed himself at Suga’s feet and was tugging at his pants. Suga’s head was spinning and his body refused to listen to his commands. He could kick the man, but his body was simply paralyzed. He could only hope that he did not die.

            “There was one girl,” the man mused, tossing Suga’s trousers and briefs off to the side. “She came running through here, she had a destination in mind and I later found out she was coming to fetch a doll she had left near the swings. She was very beautiful and not shy at all when I approached her. She was about seven or eight, I would say. My cut off age is ten, so I let her go.”

            His hands tore Suga’s legs open and he hummed in satisfaction. “Just think, it was you or her. If you hadn’t shown up, it might have been another girl like her. You’ll be helping a lot of people by doing this.”

            Now exposed, there were tears in Suga’s eyes, running down the sides of his face and into his hair. The man hushed him, sliding up close to his face.

            “No, no, don’t cry. This’ll be fun. You have a boyfriend, don’t you? I’ve seen him before, at your house. I wasn’t lying about living in your neighbourhood. Surely you’ve done something like this with your boyfriend. It’ll be fine. You’re used to this, Sugawara-san.”

            Daichi and him had never had sex. Suga had never had sex with anybody. He didn’t want his first time to be like this. He didn’t want it.

            The man pulled Suga’s bag off of his body, and then his jacket and shirt. His gentleness was sickening. He wasn’t frenzied. He seemed controlled and his actions were slow and nauseating.      

            “Shit,” the man whispered under his breath, eyeing Suga’s naked body up and down. “You look beautiful. Absolutely stunning right now.”

            The man ran a rough hand over Suga’s chest, sliding his finger tips over his nipples. Then he bent down and pressed his open mouth to Suga’s neck and collarbones. The stars above their heads were swirling in Suga’s vision and he begged for the universe to crash down on top of them.

            The man trailed his mouth all over his body, his hands wandering in places Suga had never had anyone touch before. His entire body was trembling and the man’s mouth was crawling lower and lower. His tongue and teeth played with his nipples, hurting all of Suga’s nerve endings.

            Muffled sobs started from Suga and his eyes squeezed shut when the man crawled his way back between his legs and attached his mouth to the inside skin of Suga’s thighs. His fingers were digging into his waist.

            “I don’t have a dog, you know.” The man sat up, pulling something out of his jacket. “I just knew for a fact that anyone will help someone holding a leash and a dog biscuit calling for a dog. But, not only does a missing dog draw people in, I’ve recently discovered that dog toys look suspiciously like sex toys.”

            He held up a large, ribbed rubber dog toy with two spherical ends. It was stiff, with only a little bit of give. Suga was still trying to decide whether it actually was a dog toy or if it was actually a sex toy when the man pressed it into Suga’s unlubricated and unprepared hole.

            Immediately, it felt like somebody was jabbing a knife into him and Suga tried to pulled away. His cry of pain was lost behind the knitted hat and a flood of tears ran from his eyes. His rear end felt like it was ripping itself apart to allow for the intrusion, and the man didn’t stop. He continued pushing it in until it felt like it was in Suga’s stomach, jabbing at his lungs.

            Suga had read stories in the news of people dying from being sexually assaulted with objects being pushed into their bodies too far.

            “Blood already? Have you never had anything in your ass, Sugawara?” the man inquired, sounding quite shocked.

            Blood. Blood already. Suga wanted to get away. It felt like he was going to vomit. This sort of thing happened in the news. It didn’t happen to people. It was … It was just something to get news views. It felt like he was stuck in a bad dream.

            The man pulled the toy out and then pushed it back in, starting a painful rhythm. It didn’t hurt any less and at some point, the man had begun moaning. Upon hearing the moans, Suga began to disconnect. It was too much for him. Too much to understand and to process at once. This person was getting off on Suga being tied down, bleeding, and crying.

Suga left his body.

            The man pumped to toy inside of him for what felt like hours, getting more and more aggressive. By now, Suga could feel the blood slipping down his bottom and into the grass. It felt hot. When the man pulled the toy from inside of him, he held it above Suga’s face and said, “Your boyfriend will be happy. Look how much you were able to take. And don’t worry about the blood, everyone bleeds their first time.”

            They don’t, they don’t, they don’t, Suga desperately thought to himself. If he had been with Daichi, and they were having sex for the first time, there would not be any blood. Daichi would be slow and careful.

            Suddenly, the man began to slip off his own pants and underwear. Suga couldn’t see him on the ground, but he could hear him moaning as he pumped himself and brought himself to his full height. Then, he grabbed Suga’s legs and threw up them, positioning himself behind.

            “Let me know if this hurts,” the man said, his voice soaked with razor sharp humour.

            Suga wasn’t ready. If the dog toy had hurt him, this was killing him. The man was thicker than the toy, not as long, but definitely wider, and he slammed himself into Suga’s rear with such force that his body scraped along the grass a smidge.

            Hot tears were burning Suga’s eyes and his bottom felt like it was completely covered in blood. The man had a demon grip on his legs and his head thrown back, moaning loudly as he pounded himself in and out of Suga.

            This went on longer than the toy and Suga was sure the sun was going to be rising soon, but the stars hadn’t faded from the sky yet. The man’s rhythm was beginning to disrupt and then all at once, heat exploded inside of Suga and suddenly he crashed down into his body as the entire situation became real.

            Too real.

            The man pulled out and then slid his pants back on. Just as slowly as before, he began unwinding the leash from Suga’s wrists, and he unclipped the collar, pulling the hat out of his mouth. A sob tumbled from Suga and the man bent down, smothering it with a kiss. His tongue invaded Suga’s horridly dry mouth and licked the roof of his mouth, and his tongue and everything else it could reach.

            And then he left. The man got up, took his stuff with him, and walked away as if nothing had happened. Suga, in turn, was left naked, with blood and cum running from his rectum, on the park grounds, staring at stars that were far too bright.

〚 2 〛 

         He didn’t make it practice the next morning. Daichi texted him, wondering where he was, but Suga ignored the message. He didn’t make it to school. He feigned illness and his mom called in for him. He didn’t make it to his biochemistry test. He couldn’t remember anything about it anyways. He didn’t make it out for afternoon practice. Suga didn’t make it out of bed the entire day. He clutched a bucket to his stomach and occasionally gagged into it.

         He had bruises and hickeys all over his body, and his bottom had never been in such agony. Suga was terrified to get out of bed to find blood on the back of his pants. He had scrapes on his back from the ground, and his wrists were slightly raw and bruised. His entire body hurt.

         Suga’s sister didn’t seem to notice that something was wrong when she came in to change his bucket or cold face cloth every now and then. His mom was at work and promised she’d come home early, but Suga didn’t want his mom to come home. He wanted his sister to leave. He wanted to be alone. He felt ashamed and embarrassed.

         And terrified.

         He hadn’t slept since returning home after the incident. He simply couldn’t make himself close his eyes and relax his body enough to fall asleep. He could still feel the man on his body, and he could feel him inside of him every time he shifted his position.

         So for the entire day, Suga stayed curled up under his covers trying to wrap his mind around what had happened. His lip was torn raw by the time the sun began to set and his puke bucket—empty—had fallen to the floor.

         Suga reached behind him and felt his sweatpants. There was a nauseating wetness beneath the hump of his bum and he forced himself into a sitting position, tears springing into his eyes in pain. His chest clenched and it physically pained him to hold down the sobs that threatened to tear from his body.

        “Hiro?” Suga called, listening for his sister’s voice in response. His voice was thin and fragile, but he prayed that she couldn’t hear it. “Hiroko?” Koushi blinked and slowly reached down for his phone. He had received a text from his sister, saying she had gone to the store to buy things for tonight’s dinner.

         Immediately, sobs wracked Suga’s body. They pulled him apart, limb from limb, and his wails pierced through the empty house. Tears were flooding his eyes and slipping down his face. He was painfully aware of the smell of the man on top of him still. The smell of his semen, and his own blood.

        Pretty soon, Suga wasn’t even aware of the ache in his body as he loudly cried, bending into himself and screaming out sobs. His blankets were a pile around his body and it felt like he was going to fall apart. Just completely crumble. Never in his entire life had he felt such pain and now, it felt like it was going to suffocate him.

        It held him in it’s grip and tightened itself second by second until Suga couldn’t breathe; he couldn’t make a sound. He just sat on his bed, gripping his hair and crying waves and waves of tears. The pain in his body was poking at the edges of his mind and all too suddenly he felt absolutely filthy.

       Suga slid off of his bed and stumbled to the washroom, trying to suck in a single breath of air. He couldn’t see straight. The world was tilting and his brain felt like it had been launched into space.

       Nothing felt real.

       He ended up in the bath, scalding water surrounding his body and being contaminated by blood. His dirtied sweats in a pile beside the tub. The water burned his raw wrists. The man was still all over him.

       He ended up using half of the newly opened bottle of body wash. He scrubbed every inch of his body and still didn’t feel clean. His insides felt like it was bruised and bleeding still. He could feel the dog toy still pushing against his lungs. Surely there was some internal damage.

       “I’m home, Kou!”

        Ice ran through Suga’s veins and his head spun. He fumbled for the stopper at the bottom of the tub and pulled at the chain, listening as the water was sucked down. He wished he would be swallowed down the small hole as well, but after a minute or so, Suga was sitting in the now empty tub. There were a few pink bubbles that had stayed back. They weren’t naturally pink. Suga feared there was blood beneath him.

        He stood up. There was. A small smear of blood on the white porcelain. He was never going to stop bleeding.

        “Koushi?” Hiroko called, her voice closer than before.

        “I’m in the bathroom. I had a bath,” Suga responded frailly. He stared at the blood in the bathtub and ran his fingers behind him. They came away coated with thin red blood as well. “Can you- Can you bring me a change of clothes?”

        Hiroko answered, right behind the door now. “For sure. Do you feel better at all?”

        “Yeah, a little,” Suga lied. He pulled the shower head down and washed out the bottom of the tub, getting rid of the pink and red streaks. Hiroko returned with clothes and Suga grabbed them from her, not opening the door any wider than to allow for his hand to snake out and grab them.

        He put on the t-shirt. Before he put on the fresh pair of underwear, he opened up the sink cupboard and pulled out the basket full of female sanitary products. He grabbed the biggest pad he saw and lined it along his briefs, closer to his rear. Then he put everything back in it’s place and pulled on his sweats.

        The hickeys were visible on his neck and collar bones. His stomach filled itself with acid. When he opened the door, he jumped, not expecting Hiroko to be there. Her eyes went immediately to the visible hickeys.

        “Did you and Daichi have a little bit of extra practice yesterday?” she teased.

         Suga looked away and she took it as a yes, making her laugh. “You probably have mono if that’s what you two were doing last night.”

        That wasn’t it.

        And Daichi would never make such violent marks on his body.

        “I won’t tell mom,” Hiroko promised, winking, as she walked away. Suga felt like he was going to vomit again, but he forced his down and walked to his room. He grabbed a sweater and slipped it over his head.

        Ting!

        Daichi How are you feeling?

        Suga’s hands shook, desperately wanting to tell Daichi, but instead he typed back Better :)

       Daichi Thank god. I don’t know how you handle them. Practice was horrible today.

        Bile sat at the back of his throat at the idea of having to face the team. At having to face Daichi. He considered playing sick again tomorrow, but he knew his mom wouldn’t allow it. And the longer he stayed home, the harder it would be to go back.

        Suga Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be there for practice tomorrow and you won’t have to worry

         He turned his phone off and sunk back into his bed. He skipped dinner that night.

〚 3 〛 

            Suga stood with his arms wrapped around his waist and watched blankly as the team practiced receiving. The makeup covering the hickeys on his neck was thick and he was terrified that he was going to start bleeding again, or that his sleeves were going to roll up. His stomach was taut and grumbled every thirty seconds. He hadn’t eaten a bite in 36 hours.

            Nobody had made any indication that they noticed anything off about him. Suga was thankful. He didn’t know how he would hold up under their scrutiny. He just wanted to go back home and lock himself away in his room.

            He still had an entire day ahead of him.

            “Are you feeling okay, Suga-san?” Kiyoko asked, concern tugging her eyebrows together.

            Smiling was the hardest thing Suga had ever done. It had never been like that. “Just feeling a little bit sick still, that’s all,” he waved her off. “Don’t worry about it.”

            “Sit down if you need, okay?” she said, giving him a stern look. “And if you aren’t feeling up to it, don’t worry about coming to practice after school.”

            Suga held his smile until she turned away, and then it immediately fell. The choking feeling of tears grabbed him all of the sudden and Suga struggled with holding them back. Nobody knew what had happened and it felt like it was suffocating him.

            But he couldn’t tell them. They would be disgusted. It was disgusting. It was shameful. Embarrassing. He allowed himself to be violated. Violated with a dog toy and the man.

            The practice faded into the background and Suga fell down on the bench behind him, feeling a wave of dizziness run into him. His vision fuzzed as his eyes unfocused, turning his team into blurs. A tidal wave rose in his stomach and he forced down the throw up. Nobody seemed to notice that his skin was cracking and falling onto the ground in pieces. Nobody seemed to see that there was a puddle of blood soaking the bench underneath of him. Nobody noticed what was going on.

            Yachi dropped herself onto the bench beside Suga, snapping him back to reality. Ukai was shouting something at Yamaguchi and he pelted another ball at him.

            “Where are you, Suga-senpai?” Yachi asked innocently, dropping her head to the side to look at him.

            “At practice?” Suga asked, trying to force a laugh.

            Yachi shook her head. “Uh-uh, you’re somewhere else. Your eyes are all glassy.”

            “Just tired from being sick. If you’re wondering where I am, it’s in my bowels and wondering if my breakfast is going to make an appearance.”

            Suga hadn’t eaten breakfast.

            Yachi grimaced and crossed her feet. “My mom always tells me when I’m sick that as long as you don’t think about being sick, you won’t be. It doesn’t always work, but it does sometimes.”

            How was Suga supposed to not think about the man raping him? Sexually assaulting him?

            “Thanks, Yachi. But you should probably be more worried about Hinata.”

            The two looked over at the orange haired spiker and Yachi shrieked upon seeing the blood drip from his nose and onto the floor. Kageyama was shouting at him to hold his hand underneath the blood so it wouldn’t get on the nice gymnasium flooring.

            Suga’s stomach turned at the blood and he couldn’t stop the flashing image of the bloodied dog toy. He got to his feet and slowly made his way to the change rooms, holding down his vomit until he had crashed to his knees in front of the toilet.

〚 4 〛

            Suga went in to write the test he had missed at lunch. All of the sudden he couldn’t remember his days and days of studying as he stared at the unfilled test. His grasp on the pen was loose and he could feel his body melting into the floor. It no longer felt like he was in the empty classroom. He was in a void.

            He touched the pen to the paper and struggled his way across each question. Halfway through he could feel himself slipping into frustration. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force his mind to focus on the test in front of him. It blurred in and out of focus.  

            Suga flipped the test over, turning the pages to the front and handed it in. He didn’t stick around long enough for the teacher to notice that he had only completed about a quarter of the test; unfilled questions throughout the entire booklet.

            He numbly walked out to the hallway.

            “Suga!” Noya shouted from some ways down the hall, lifting a hand in greeting. He was walking with Asahi and Ennoshita. Suga stared blankly as they approached and Noya spoke up again. “You just finish the test? How was it? Did you ace it?”

            “Of course I did,” Suga lied, feigning a smile. He could feel how weak and unbelievable it was. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “When have you known me to fail a test?”

            He didn’t want to think about his teacher’s reaction upon noticing the lack of effort he’d put into writing it. Anxiety washed through his body as he thought about how big of a test it was and he’d completely screwed himself over.

            “Have you seen Daichi?” Suga asked, suddenly not wanting to be around the others. He felt jittery; uneasy. He had to get away before they saw through his thin mask.

            “Not recently,” Noya responded, shrugging. “We passed him in the hall, but I wouldn’t know where he is now.”

            Suga bit the insides of his cheeks, pulling at the skin until it crunched between his teeth and detached itself, leaving raw cells behind. “Okay, well, I’ll go look for him.”

            He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t go find Daichi, either. As soon as he was out of sight, he slowly climbed down three flights of stairs, trying to hide the pain from showing itself on his face.

            Once he was on the faculty and club activity level, he drifted down the hall until he reached the gender neutral bathrooms. He slipped into the washroom and locked himself in one of the stalls. If anyone were to come into this bathroom, they wouldn’t know him. At least, he hoped that would be the case.

            Suga pulled his phone out of his pocket and debated texting his mom or sister to ask them to pick him up. How long could he pretend to be sick for? He couldn’t play that card again.

            He just wanted to go home.

            He choked back a sob and covered his mouth and nose with a hand, staring at his feet as tears welled in his eyes. He couldn’t keep claiming he was sick and he couldn’t keep bursting into tears. He had to find something less obvious as a way to express his emotions.

            Stop feeling altogether.  

            All at once, the tears stopped and Suga’s face went slack, but his eyes continued to stared at the floor. A single, left over tear fell from his eyelash and hit the top of his shoe. And just like that, any sort of inkling of emotion he had slithered out from his body and pooled around his feet. It was goopy and gross. There’s was a spot of black tainting the pale grey puddle and it spread itself until the grey had turned black completely.

            For the rest of the lunch break, Suga stayed frozen on the toilet, staring at his spilled emotions and trying to think about how he would ever clean it up. When the warning bell rung, the puddle quivered and slunk away until it was out of sight.

            And Suga stood up, unlocked the stall, and made his way back up to his classes.

            “Did you just finish writing your test?”

            Suga turned his head and looked at Daichi, entering the classroom behind him. His muscles smoothly complied as he falsely smiled and responded, “Yeah. It took me longer than I thought. But it went pretty well.”

            Daichi smiled back warmly. “What did I tell you? You didn’t have anything to worry about.”

            Except he did, but it wasn’t his test he should’ve been worrying about that night.

            They entered the classroom and sat down in their respective seats, Daichi directly in front of Suga. The rest of the day commenced, and with every passing hour Suga felt heavier and heavier. When he stepped foot in the gymnasium, he was sure the weight was going to crush him.

            ⌜⋯⌟

            It was during practice that the team noticed something was off, and it wasn’t simply just ‘being tired from feeling ill’.  Ukai didn’t allow Suga to stand off to the side for the afternoon practice. That meant participation.

            Typically, Suga would try and he would do his best to keep his skills honed despite not playing in official matches often. But the pain that was still dully aching throughout his body prohibited him from doing so.

            He felt too rigid to bend his knees and keep his body low. He was paranoid that he would sweat and it would rub away the makeup covering his bruises. He couldn’t comfortably play and his mind was stuck somewhere else.

It was still stuck under that cherry blossom tree. He was never going to be able to leave that place.

            “Sugawara!” Ukai shouted impatiently. “Wake up before you get nailed in the face!”

            The rest of the team glanced over at the silverette, surprised that he had been yelled at. Suga caught Daichi staring at him and forced a smile, but the captain didn’t smile back.

            Daichi knew something was wrong. And he wasn’t the only one. Asahi and Kageyama were sharing looks on the side. Heat rushed through Suga’s body as he felt everyone’s thoughts and eyes on him. His cheeks warmed up, embarrassment hugging him.

            Ukai smashed the ball towards Suga, slightly off to the side and forcing Suga to lunge for it. He managed to hit it, but it didn’t go over and instead bounced back off of the net. Ukai paused, propping a hand on his hip. He studied Suga closely.

            “Okay, everyone, take a quick water break,” he said, breaking his stare. He climbed down from the refs post and walked towards Takeda, saying something in a low tone.

            Suga straightened up, feeling out of it. Maybe his lack of sleep was beginning to catch up to him.

            “What’s up?” Daichi’s voice wove into his thoughts gently. He reached out a hand, but Suga twisted out of the way to avoid the contact. He tried to make it look casual, but Daichi gave him a confused look.

            “Sorry,” Suga said quietly. He felt uncomfortable. As if Daichi could see right through him and knew what had happened. “I’m just tired. I haven’t slept much.”

            Daichi looked his boyfriend over. “Is there a reason?”

            “I was sick,” Suga offered. “I don’t really know. I was sick and stressed about my test, I guess.”

            “Alright. You’d let me know if something was up?”

            Suga nodded, giving a tight lipped smile. He couldn’t gather enough of his voice together to respond. And he got the horrible feeling that Daichi knew he wasn’t saying everything.

            The last thing he wanted to do was tell Daichi what had happened. That he’d let that man take what was supposed to be Daichi’s. Suga didn’t want him to know how dirty he was. Until the bruises and hickeys were gone, Suga wouldn’t be able to let anyone see him.

            What if Daichi saw the hickeys on his neck and chest and thought he was cheating? If Daichi found out, Suga could very well ruin their entire relationship. If Suga lost Daichi, he didn’t know what he would do.

            He couldn’t lose Daichi.

〚 7 〛

            It felt like months had passed since that night, but when Suga looked at the calendar, only a week had gone by and he still felt sick. The hickeys were beginning to fade and he was no longer aching. It was still difficult for him to swallow food. He tried to avoid eating if possible.

            Hiroko was catching on that her younger brother was acting different. His mom as well. They both tried to encourage Suga to eat, but they didn’t push hard enough.

            After a week, Suga thought he would forget about what had happened, but rather, it seemed like it as getting worse. It was the only thing on his mind anymore and every tiny thing would remind him of it. Suga tried to attend practice, but he was getting more and more frustrated that he couldn’t focus on volleyball. Ukai was shouting at him more. Kiyoko and Yachi were studying Suga and his quickly declining skills.

            So Suga stopped going to practice. He used the time to sleep in, and he left school as soon as possible so he could get home before it got dark out. When he got back home, he would have a hot bath and then change into clean clothes, and go to bed.

            He hadn’t done his homework since that night. He hadn’t eaten a full meal since that night. He hadn’t gone to bed any later than seven since that night. He was sleeping instead of getting out of bed to shower. He was sleeping instead of eating. He was sleeping instead of being crushed by the throbbing memory of that night.

            It was also a week from that night when Suga received a text message from a nameless number. When he opened it up and read it, his stomach flipped and any heat in his body seeped out.

           Unknown Number I’ve been thinking about you. Saw your siblings at the park the other day. Your younger brother is even more angelic than you…

            Suga’s head spun and his vision tunneled. He only had one younger brother. His three younger siblings and mom had been at the park the other day. And the man that had raped Suga was there as well, watching his brother specifically.

            Suga’s hands shook and he thought he was going to pass out just as another text popped onto the screen.

            Unknown Number Have you touched yourself since we fucked? Mm, I can still smell you… A delicious smell. There’s a package at the door for you to make your pleasure better.

            “Koushi! There’s some mail here for you!” his mom called.

            Suga ran down the stairs, his body feeling flimsy and shaky as approached the table. Sitting on top of it was a long cardboard box.

            “They look like flowers,” his mom said, smiling. “No name, but I would say those are from Daichi by the little heart beside your name.”

            Suga swallowed painfully. “Yeah. I’m going to take it to my room. Um, I’ve got lots of homework to do so… I don’t think I’ll be down for supper.”

            His younger sister, Mitsuki, looked up from her drawing at the table and scowled at Suga. “You never eat anymore,” she said. “You should eat something.”

            “I’m just… I’ve just been really busy,” Suga muttered. Beside Mitsuki was her twin brother Haku—the one who was being watched by the man. Also at the table, in the high chair, was the baby. “I’m just really busy.”

            “You haven’t been going to volleyball either,” his mom observed.

            “I’m busy, okay?” Suga said sharply. “I don’t have time for volleyball right now. I’m going back to my room.”

            He grabbed the box and quickly returned to his room, throwing it onto the bed and listening to whatever was inside hit the sides. It was definitely not flowers. Suga looked back at his phone, but there were no new messages.

            When he opened the box and pulled out what was inside, his entire body swayed and pulled the bucket out from under his bed, leaning his head over it as hot bile slipped over his tongue.

            Sitting on the bed was the very dog toy that had been used to violate him. It had been cleaned, but Suga’s mind twisted his vision. He could still see it covered, covered, in blood.

            Pure acid stuck to the bottom of Suga’s puke bucket and he struggled to hold back tears. He dropped the bucket on the floor and shoved the dog toy back into the box, chest tight. His body had begun to quiver uncontrollably. With shakings hands he blocked the number on his phone and tossed it away from himself.

            Calm down. You need to calm down.

            Suga wiped his face and took some forced breaths. He hit his thighs with clenched fists as he tried to stop his trembling. He didn’t want everything to make him feel like this. He had to stop.

            He had to stop feeling.

            Slowly, like he was moving through syrup, Suga took the box and put it underneath his bed, pushing it way back until he couldn’t reach any further. He picked up the bucket and walked it to the bathroom, washing it out in the tub before putting that under his bed as well. The baby was downstairs crying now. It as muffled, as if the baby had its head shoved underwater.

            Or maybe that was backwards. Maybe Suga was the one with his head underwater, drowning.

            He picked up his phone and placed it on his bedside table. For a few seconds, he stared at it, expecting the screen to light up with another text from the man even though he blocked the number. It never did.

           Suga turned around and looked at himself in the mirror. The bruises were faded. He didn’t need to hide them anymore. The pain in his backend was gone. Physically, it was as if it had never happened. And that made Suga’s head spin, because if you couldn’t see it, that meant it wasn’t real. It didn’t happen. Without evidence, he wouldn’t be able to prove what had happened. Nobody would ever believe him.

           Suga stepped towards the mirror and leaned in close, touching his face. Cherry red lips from ripping the skin off. Dark grey bags encircling his eyes. Acne spots dotting his chin and nose. Tangled hair. There were long red lines running diagonally downwards from his earlobe across his neck to the hollow between where his collarbones almost met. When had he begun scratching his neck?

           Behind him, the setting sun glinted in the mirror and his eyes suddenly focused on the big window. It was too big. Below it was the front porches’ tiled roof. The man knew where he lived.

           Suga turned around, his heart tight as he approached the window. The man was going to be there. He was going to be on the roof, watching Suga. How long had he been doing it? Suga felt like he was going to vomit again, but when he peered out the window, there was nothing on the roof. There was nobody on the street below.

           He locked the window tightly, tried opening it, doubled checked the lock, and then lowered the blinds until the light was muted to a fire like grey. Suga stood in the semi-darkness for a minute or two, staring at the closed blinds. He was tempted to look through them again, but instead he backed away and sat down on his bed.

           He was still sitting in the dark when the sun went below the horizon and the stars came out.

 〚 9 〛

         “Koushi, open up your blinds, darling,” his mom said one morning. “Get some fresh air in here. You’re in here all the time; it’s starting to get stale. When’s the last time you had a shower?”

            Suga spun around in his desk chair and watched silently as his mom lifted the blinds and opened the window. She was going to let him in. She was going to let the man in. This time, he was going to kill him. He was going to kill Suga.

           Suga could picture it. As soon as his mom left, he would crawl in through the window like a spider and he would duct tape Suga’s mouth closed. He was going to take a knife and open Suga up. Slice him right down the centre and pull out his insides. He would take the dog toy and stab it into him again. But this time, there wouldn’t be organs in the way. Suga could see it. He could see the dog toy poking out of his split stomach with every thrust in. And before the man left, he would take Suga’s neck and squeeze until he stopped breathing.

          “What are your plans for today?”

          Suga looked at his mom, her grey hair braided back and the stray strands held out of the way with a bandana. She was oddly slim for birthing six children. It was unsettling, staring at his mom and knowing that she was completely in the dark about what had happened.

         “I think I’ll just stay home,” he responded.

         “Why don’t you take the kids to the park today? Or go ask Mrs. Suzaki if she wants her dog walked. You should get out, Koushi. You’ve been cooped up in here for the last few days.”

         Suga rubbed his arm and looked off to the side. “Why can’t Hiro take the kids to the park and the dog for a walk?”

         His mom crossed her arms and gave him a look, as if she was trying to figure him out. “Well, I don’t care what you do, but I don’t want you in this house this afternoon. Go for a walk or go see Daichi or go somewhere. I don’t want to see you in this house after lunch though, that’s my only request for today.”

         Suga didn’t say anything else. He just sighed quietly. Before she left, his mom pressed a kiss to his forehead and told him she loved him. When she closed the door, Suga stared at the open window, waiting for the man to crawl in.

         Of course, he never did.

         Ting!

         Daichi Are you okay? You don’t answer my texts or come to practice anymore. We’re all worried

         Suga ignored it and slowly closed his window again, lowering the blinds and flicking on the light. He liked this bubble he had created. It was safe. If he didn’t text anyone, the man couldn’t text him. If he didn’t go to practice, the man couldn’t hurt him in the cover of darkness anymore. If he didn’t open his window, no one could see him. He was safe. He was safe.

         Ting!

         Daichi The team has a practice match with Fukurodani after school on Monday. I hope you’ll come

         Ting!

         Daichi I love you

         Suga ran his hand underneath his shirt, running his fingers across his abdomen. He had had two hickeys on his abdomen. It felt like they’d faded away into his body as pure acid. His stomach constantly felt like it was being chewed away, whispering at him to throw up.

         Suga felt filthy.

         Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he was making a bigger deal out of it than it actually was. He was alive, wasn’t he? The marks were gone now. He was fine. It had happened and his body had repaired itself, so why was he still whining? People had it worse than him. He was fine.

         Suga sighed again and whispered to himself, “I wish I had died.”

         Somehow, living with it by himself was suffocating him. If only the man had killed him afterwards. The man knew where Suga lived. The man new his phone number. The man knew what his siblings looked like. The man knew that he was dating Daichi. The man knew his name.

         And Suga knew nothing about him. Suga had never been so paranoid in his entire life. Even in his room he was scared to look over his shoulder. Even in his own house he felt vulnerable.

        What if the man got his hands on his sisters or brother? His younger siblings always went out on their own—except for the baby of course. The town was safe to them. They didn’t even know what the word ‘rape’ was probably.

         Suga left his room and went to the twin’s room. Neither of them was there. He went to the window and closed it as well, locking it shut and closing the curtains. He did the same to his younger sister’s and the baby’s room. And to his older sister’s room. And to his mom’s room. He closed all the doors. If the man tried to get into the house through one of the bedrooms, he’d have to get through the locked window and creaky doors. It would alert them of an intruder.

         “What are you doing, onii-chan?”

         Suga looked towards the stairs at his younger sister. She had a confused look on her face and a book in her hand.  Suga fumbled for an explanation for the five-year-old.

         “Making it look nice,” he said, shrugging. She pushed up her glasses and twisted her mouth, giving him a look.

         “I’m going to put this book away and then mom said you’re taking us to the park,” she said, padding to her room and opening the door. Suga watched her. Her eyes were focused on the now closed window.

         She turned around, looked up at him, and said, “Daddy used to do that.” Then she repeated something their mom always told them when their dad enclosed them in the house: “There’s nobody out there and we’re one hundred percent safe here. The house is surrounded by a moat and we’re on top of a wonderful mountain. Nobody can hurt us.”

         Suga’s father was a paranoid schizophrenic and was institutionalized the previous year.

         Suga forced a laugh as she pulled open the curtain again. “You’re right, Miko. I’m just being silly. Sorry.”

         Tamiko turned to her brother after putting the book on the shelf. “So you’re taking us to the park?”

         “Of course.”

         If only the man had killed him.

⌜⋯⌟

         Suga could see the exact spot where it had happened. There was a birthday party at the park and the children were running all over the spot. The mother had a large blanket spread out only two feet away.

         Everyone was completely oblivious to what had happened. The park was thriving with life—it was a beautiful day off school. Suga wondered if all of the people would keep their kids inside if they knew that there was a man watching their children lustfully.

         “Onii-chan! Onii-chan!”

         The twins’ frantic calls poked at Suga’s mind. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spot.

         “Onii-chan! Tamiko’s bleeding!” Mitsuki called, scowling at her inattentive older brother.

         Suga tore his eyes away and looked towards his siblings. He got off the bench he was sitting on and made his way over, heart doing backflips in his chest. Tamiko was on the ground, crying, and there was blood trickling down her shin. Kneeling beside her was Mitsuki, and standing behind Mitsuki was Haku, holding the baby on his hip.

         Suga lowered himself to his knees and felt helium flood its way into his skull as he looked at the blood. He had lined his boxers with pads for three days to cover the fact that he had been bleeding from places unimaginable.

         “What happened?” Suga asked. He cringed at his own lack of compassion, but he couldn’t force any emotion of sort into his voice. “Hey, Miko, you’re okay. It’s just a little scrape, yeah? We’ll take you home and get you cleaned up. I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

         Tamiko sniffled and wiped her face of tears. Mitsuki helped her onto Suga’s back and she clung to his neck like a noose. They’d been at the park far too long. Suga was worried that if they stayed any longer the man would make his appearance. It was his prime hunting spot.

         It took them five minutes to get home. With every step Suga could feel the man watching them. He lived in the neighbourhood. He could be in any one of the houses. Suga made sure the twins and the baby walked in front of him. He wasn’t going to let the man snatch them from behind his back.

         When they entered the house, the first thing their mom said was, “You five weren’t even gone for an hour.” And then she noticed Tamiko’s bloodied leg and forgot all about her request for Suga to be out of the house for the afternoon.

         He left his younger sister with his mom and then slipped back to his room.

         The window was open again.

         “Mom, did you open my window while I was gone?” he called. He walked towards it, looking for anything different. The man must have opened it. He could be in his room. Anywhere. Hiding in the closet. Or perhaps he was simply proving to Suga that he had the skills to get through the locked window.

         Suga couldn’t breathe.

         “Mom?” he asked again, looking down at the road below. Why couldn’t the man leave him alone. He’d already hurt Suga enough. “Mom? Mom, someone opened my window. Someone’s in my room. Mom!”

         Suga slammed the window closed and tore the blinds shut again. He spun around and whipped his closet open, shoving jackets and sweaters aside. The man was in his room. The man was in his room. His heart was going to tear right out of his chest. Suga ripped the clothes down, onto the floor.

         “Koushi! Koushi, calm down! I opened the window, I opened it.” His mom pulled him away from the closet. Suga stopped his frantic search of the closet, looking at the fallen clothes. The closet was empty and there was no man in the room.

         The twins were at the door, looking frightened.

         “There’s nobody in your room,” his mom whispered, her arms still encircling his shoulders. “I opened the window. It’s okay. You’re okay.” There were tears in her voice and suddenly understood why his mom was crying, and why his siblings were scared.

         But Suga wasn’t his father. He wasn’t.

         Suga twisted out of his mom’s hold, heat spreading on his cheeks in embarrassment. “I didn’t know you opened it. I thought… I thought maybe someone had gotten into the house. Sorry. I’m fine. I jumped to the worst case scenario.”

         He turned his eyes to his mom. Tears were glossing her eyes over and her hands were trembling. Suga was the oldest male in the house now, he couldn’t let anything happen to his family, but how could he do that without turning into his aggressively paranoid father? What if the man broke into the house when Suga wasn’t there and ended up doing something to his mom or sister?

         “Mitsuki… Haku, can you two go downstairs for a minute? I need to talk to your brother.”

         The twins left, closing the door as they left. Suga anxiously looked at the closed off window again.

         “Mom, I’m fine,” Suga said, eyes flicking to her quickly. “You don’t have to worry about me… About me becoming dad. I’m fine. Just stressed I guess.”

         “Koushi, I’m worried about you. Not about you turning into your father, but about how differently you’ve been acting lately,” his mom said, wiping her eyes. “You aren’t eating, you haven’t gone to volleyball for a week, you spend all your free time sleeping… What happened? What’s wrong? You know you can talk to me, right? You can trust me, baby. I just want you to be okay.”

         Suga stared at his mom, struggling with telling her about everything. He heart was throbbing behind his eyes and a lumped formed in his throat as the words sat on his tongue.

         He raped me.

         “I’m okay, mom,” he smiled. “I’m just tired. I haven’t really been sleeping at night. I’ll be fine. They’re putting a bunch of college stuff on us at school right now. It’s just… It’s a lot. I don’t know what I’m going to do after graduation.”

         “Oh, honey, I remember going through all of the college stuff in school as well. They make it seem like such a big deal, but you don’t have to worry. You have years before you have to start worrying about things like that. Whatever you decide to do, whatever college, or career you choose, I’m still going to love you. You’re too young to be worrying about where your life is going.”

         Suga clamped his jaw together and blinked back tears. His mom believed him when he said his biggest problem was college. Suga hadn’t even looked at any of the booklets the teachers had given them at school about colleges and career choices.

         He didn’t think he’d live long enough to even graduate, let alone get into a college.

         “Are you sure that’s all?” she asked.

         “Yeah, just college stuff. Stressing me out.” Suga once again lied right through his clenched teeth and pulled the strings on his mouth to form a believable smile. From now, on he was going to be a living marionette, pulling strings to avoid questions and put on a passable façade.

〚 10 〛

            The team was shell shocked when Suga showed up in the gymnasium after school on Monday. He allowed Daichi to press a kiss to his lips, but Suga couldn’t pull the strings to kiss back. Daichi let his unresponsiveness slide, resting his hand on the small of Suga’s back.

            “Is everything okay with you?” Daichi asked in a hushed tone as the team got into the bus for their practice match at Fukurodani.

            “Yeah, I’m okay,” Suga answered, swallowing thickly. He pulled out the college excuse again. “Just been stressed about university applications. I’ve been looking at post secondary schooling and it’s taking up my practice time. I’m fine.”

            Daichi pressed his lips together and frowned. “Are you sure? You’ve been really avoidant lately.”

            “I’m fine,” Suga snapped firmly. His eyes widened immediately. “I’m so sorry. I’m just tired. I’m sorry. Let’s just… Let’s just go.” He quickly hopped up the steps into the bus and slid into the closest seat, sucking in a deep breath.

            It took every string attached to Suga’s body to stop from cringing away from Daichi when he placed a hand on his thigh. It was a reassuring touch, but the only thing Suga could picture was the man’s hand tearing his naked legs open wide.

            Suddenly, going to the practice match didn’t seem like such a great idea. Going to the practice match just meant that he had to keep up his mask for four hours, around so many more people.

            Suga looked down at Daichi’s hand, running up and down his leg. His vison blurred and his heart stuttered. His hands tore Suga’s legs open and he hummed in satisfaction. “Just think, it was you or her. If you hadn’t shown up, it might have been another girl like her. You’ll be helping a lot of people by doing this.”

            Suga bit down on his lip until his teeth tore through the skin, blood hitting his tongue. He turned his head and looked out the window, trying to ignore Daichi’s hand and his skull shattering thoughts. The rest of the ride, Suga couldn’t seem to pull himself out of his head.

            Arm around his neck. On the ground. Knitted hat shoved in his mouth. His clothes carefully and slowly removed. The man running his hands over his body. His mouth between his thighs. The dog toy. The blood. The searing pain tearing apart his body. The man pulling his own pants off and throwing Suga’s legs over his head. The man thrusting into him with the force of a monster. The grass scratching his back. Hot tears coating his face. Semen flooding into his body like poison. The man’s tongue intruding his mouth.

            And the aftermath. Suga had laid there for an hour, staring at the swirling universe above him as the blood and semen soaked onto the ground. After twenty minutes, his flow of tears had stopped. The other forty minutes he spent simply frozen on the grass.

            After the hour, getting to his feet as almost worse than the actual thing. Suga’s body was filled with white hot razors as he had tried to get to his feet. When he was vertical, he could feel gravity seep more blood and cum from his rear.

            Suga had only made it four steps before he hunched over and vomited, breaking into tears again. As he stumbled down the street towards his house, he prayed that no one saw him. He snuck in through the back door and went straight to the bathroom. His siblings were in bed. His mom was probably asleep already too. Hiroko had been working late.

            Trying to clean himself off was worse. It made what had happened real. The evidence was on his body. Inside of his body. The evidence was running down his thighs and slowly appearing beneath the thin, first layer of skin. An entire bottle of body wash and he wasn’t clean. An hour and a half in the bath and he couldn’t get the stink of the man off him. Suga wanted to peeled his skin off like his mother did with potatoes. Slice it off so he couldn’t see the disgusting spots and dirt on his outer layer. Suga wanted to cut his skin off. He wanted to scratch himself until he bled, until his skin curled under his fingernails. He wanted to swallow the body wash, clean his mouth of the man’s taste.

            Dirty, dirty, dirty, DIRTY, DIRTY, DIRTY, HE WAS SO DISGUSTINGLY FILTHY AND IT WOULDN’T COME OFF.

            Suga stood in the Fukurodani gymnasium, his tumbling brain slamming against the side of his skull and falling, stunned. He remembered nothing about the ride. He didn’t remember getting off the bus, or entering the gym. Akaashi was talking. What had Akaashi said? Suga couldn’t hear. His ears were full of water.

            “Let’s go get changed,” Daichi said loudly to the team, waving them in the direction of the change room.

            Suga numbly followed the team into the locker room. The marks on his body were gone and it would be suspicious if he changed in one of the stalls. But the idea of stripping in front of the team suddenly wasn’t as easy as it used to be. Taking his clothes off held a horrible image now.

            Coming to this practice match had been a horrible idea.

            Suga sat down on the bench beside Tsukishima and tried to subtly pull his school uniform off and replace it with his gym clothes. Tsukishima didn’t even glance over. No one did, really.

            Was he really that revolting? Suga should have been glad that man had wanted anything to do with him. No one on his own team wanted to even look at him.

            I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home, Suga thought vehemently, hot embarrassment splotching his cheeks and tears burned his eyes. He kept his face down as he pretended to tie his shoes. He was the last one left in the locker room. What if he simply didn’t leave? It was just a practice match.

            The tidal of anxiety thrumming against his ribcage was nauseating and suddenly admitting that he couldn’t participate didn’t seem so bad. He just had to tell them, right? Tell them why he couldn’t. Why he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go to practice, or play the game. He just had to speak up. It wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t. It wasn’t.

            “Suga? Are you coming?” Asahi’s voice crashed through his thoughts and Suga’s nearly jumped out of his skin.

            Of course, Asahi changed in the stalls. Suga wasn’t the last one in the change room.

            “Do you feel sick? You don’t look too good,” Asahi said, frowning in concern.

            Suga clenched his teeth and smiled, springing to his feet. “Nope. I’m good. Let’s go crush this owlful team.”

            Asahi cringed at the pun, laughing slightly, and turning his back. Once his face was turned away, Suga sighed quietly and let his smile fall. He just had to keep them off the trail. It wasn’t like he had to tell them, anyways.

            He didn’t have to tell anyone. It could be his secret. It was his secret. Nobody needed to know. If anything, nobody wanted to know.

⌜⋯⌟

             Unknown You know, it’s not hard to get a new phone number these days. You can’t block me, Sugawara.

            Unknown Do you want to make me angry?

            Unknown You’re putting up a valiant effort to keep me away though, I admire that. But you’re an amateur still. It’s cute.

            Three texts. New number. But it was him. It was definitely him. Suga had already had a terrible time at the practice match and receiving those messages the minute he flopped down onto his bed was like a shard of ice piercing straight through his heart. He just stared at the messages, trying to process them.

            Suga deleted the texts and blocked the new number, his heart pounding in his chest. They were just taunts. Suga was perfectly safe. If he continued blocking the man, and kept his windows locked, he was fine.

            He had to stop being paranoid. He knew that it was beginning to worry his mom and older sister. It was time to stop. If he wasn’t paranoid, the man wasn’t going to hurt him. It was simply the way the world worked. It he continued to stay paranoid, something would happen.

            Still, Suga knew that he wasn’t going to be sleeping that night.

            Again.

            〚 12 〛

             “Sugawara? Stay after class, please. I need to speak with you,” Mr. Yazuki said when the bell rang, signalling for the end of the day. Suga’s heart immediately plummeted as he looked at his biochemistry teacher. There was no questioning that this was about his previous test.

            Suga watched the class slowly leave the classroom, off to their club activities. Mr. Yazuki closed the door after the last student left and then turned towards grey haired pupil. Suga couldn’t feel his hands or feet as Mr. Yazuki slowly returned to his desk, picking up a stapled little booklet.

            “I marked your test,” he said, placing it down in front of Suga. “I’m not very impressed with this, Sugawara.”

            The circled, red percentage 23% burned into Suga’s retinas. He couldn’t bring himself to meet his teacher’s eyes. Never in his entire life had he gotten a mark so low. Surely his mom had already received a phone call.

            “What happened here?” Mr. Yazuki asked, his voice taking on a quiet tone. “You didn’t fill in over half of the test. This is very unlike you. Do you have some sort of explanation?”

            Suga silently shook his head, clenching his hands into fists as his side.

            “You haven’t been finishing your homework either. Is there something going on at home that someone should know about? You’re one of my best students, but you haven’t been bringing your A game lately. If there’s something happening outside of this classroom that lead to this, I want you to talk to either myself or one of the guidance counsellors.”

            “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll- I’ll do better,” Suga choked out. He grabbed the paper and folded it in half, shoving it out of his sight. Mr. Yazuki placed his hands flat on the desk and bent down, trying to see Suga’s face.

            Suddenly, they were too close. It was after school, the door was closed, and it was just Suga and him.

            “Sugawara? Are you all right?”

            “I need to get to practice,” Suga said stiffly, backing away from the older man. He shoved the test into his book bag and turned his back, quickly going to the door. It was going to be locked. Mr. Yazuki had him locked in here.

            “I’m here if there’s ever something you need to talk about, Sugawara, me or any of the other teachers are here,” Mr. Yazuki said. “You can come and see me whenever you like.”

            Suga ripped the door open and got away from that room as quickly as he could. He never wanted to be alone with Mr. Yazuki ever again. He didn’t want to be alone with anyone. There was a pressure building in his chest like a swarm of wasps and his hands might as well have been chopped off.

            Ting!

            Unknown You really need to stop blocking me. It’s a little bit annoying.

            Unknown You must know by now that it’s not going to end well.

            The swarm of bees climbed up Suga’s throat.

            Ting!

            Unknown I see you aren’t at practice. Again.

            Unknown I was hoping I’d get to see you in your gym uniform. I bet you look ravishing on the court

            The swarm was around his head, filling his ears with an insistent buzzing. The man was watching the team practice. He was there, watching his friends. What if he… What if he followed one of them home? Hinata? Yamaguchi? Yachi? Or Kyoko? What if he hurt them too?

            Suga couldn’t hear. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe. He ran towards the gymnasium, his heart crawling up his throat. He dropped his bag as he ran down the corridor to the doors.

            The second he burst through the doors, they all stopped and looked over at him. He didn’t even have time to warn them before he curled into himself, the wasps engulfing his body whole.

            “Koushi?” Daichi said, confusion coating his features.

            “Oh! Oh, my god!” Yachi said, her hands flying to her mouth. “Suga-senpai!”

            Daichi, Ukai, Kyoko, and Yachi all ran over. Suga swatted their hands away, gasping in breaths. The man was watching. The man was seeing all of this. Suga had to get them to leave. They had to go home, lock their doors.

            “You have to cancel practice. You have to- You have to go home,” Suga said. “It’s not safe, Daichi. It’s not safe. No one can go home alone. You have to lock your doors.” Images soaked his skull until it was mush and he hunched over, gagging.

            “Sugawara, what are you talking about?” Ukai asked, shaking his head. Then to Yachi: “Get him some water.”  

            Yachi got to her feet and ran towards the bench to grab some water.

            “Suga, you need to calm down,” Daichi said quietly, eyes wide with fear. “You need to breathe. It’s perfectly safe here. The entire town is safe. What’s going on?”

            Suga closed his eyes and resisted the burning urge to scream. The town was not safe. It wasn’t. But nobody would believe him. No one would listen. Guys weren’t supposed to let themselves be raped. Guys didn’t get raped. They were supposed to be able to fight back. People would think he wanted it because he hadn’t. Suga didn’t want it. He didn’t.

            “It’s not safe!” he cried, digging his nails into his scalp. He could feel the presence of the man standing over him, but it was just Ukai. It was just Ukai. Still, Suga couldn’t stop the churning in his stomach at the thought of the man jumping on him, pushing his face into the ground and tearing his clothes off.

            Yachi handed him a water bottle.

            “Suga, I’m… I’m going to take you home, okay?” Daichi said, fear tinging his voice. He glanced back at the rest of the team, watching the whole thing silently and fearfully. Ukai gave Daichi a nod of approval and Suga was helped to his feet. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

            Daichi’s arms around Suga’s waist felt like a python; writhing and squeezing.

            Daichi didn’t even bother changing his clothes or grabbing his things. He just helped Suga out of the schoolyard and onto the main street, heading down the pavement to the Sugawara household. Once they’d walked a way and Suga began to calm down, Daichi let go of his waist.

            “Tell the truth, what’s going on? And don’t say that it’s nothing, because this isn’t nothing. I’ve never seen you like this. The team and myself are scared,” he muttered, looking over at his boyfriend. “What was that just now?”

            Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. Tellhimtellhimtellhimtellhim. TELL HIM.

            Suga’s heart was clawing at his ribcage.

            Make up another excuse.

            “I…” His vision spun wildly. Tell him. “I don’t know what that was.” Well, it’s none of his business, anyways. “I don’t know what’s been going on lately. I think I’m turning into how my dad was. I can’t explain what’s going on, Daichi.”

            Complete, and utter, bullshit.

            But it was believable. Suga had always feared becoming his father. Daichi knew that. Asahi knew that. Tanaka knew that. If he told everyone that he was just thinking too hard about that again, they would believe him.

            “You aren’t going to turn into your dad, Kou,” Daichi told him gently. “You just hit a rough patch is all. A rough patch doesn’t automatically mean that you’re your dad. You just need to start realizing the difference.”

            Daichi had fallen for Suga’s half lie. Of course, he had. The very thought of their quiet little village having a pedophilic rapist about was absurd. Something like that just didn’t happen in their town. No one would ever think that Suga had been raped.

            “Is there anything else on your mind?”

            Suga shook his head.

            Ting!

            Unknown You don’t have to worry about your team, Sugawara

            Unknown You’re the only one I have my eyes on.

〚 15 〛

It had been two weeks. Two weeks. Not even an entire month had passed since that night. Every time Suga looked out the window and saw the Sakura tree in his neighbour’s lawn he thought about the branches that had loomed over him as the whole thing happened. They had witnessed everything. They saw what that man did. That cherry blossom tree in the park was the only thing that knew about what had happened to him.

            The man was still texting him daily. Suga had given up on blocking him. Not once had he replied either. Sometimes, Suga would find his window opened, letting in cold air, but every time he asked about it, his mom claimed she was the one who had opened it.

            Suga never believed her. And she never seemed to get the hint that Suga didn’t want his window open. He wanted it locked tight with the blinds drawn.

            And it was Hiroko who stopped Suga in the doorway one day after school, her arms crossed and a stern look masking her soft features. Her hip was jutted out and the look on her face told Suga that he was in big trouble.

            “We’ve been getting calls from the school recently,” she started. “Sounds like you haven’t done your homework for a few weeks. I’ve also been informed that your grades are falling like a landslide.”

            Suga didn’t say a word. He dropped his eyes to the mat beneath his feet.

            “I want an explanation,” Hiro said. “You’re not getting out of this one, Kou. What’s going on?”

            “The school work is just getting hard,” he mumbled.

            Hiroko grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to meet hers. “So, because it’s getting hard you’ve just given up completely? That doesn’t sound like you. You should be getting points for at least attempting your homework, but from what I’ve heard, you’ve been doing nothing.”

            Anxiety was lapping at his mouth and pretty soon it would smother his nose. He would suffocate. Maybe suffocating wouldn’t be so bad.

            “What about volleyball? Did you quit?”

            “No.”

            “You haven’t been eating.”

            “I haven’t been hungry.”

            Hiro bore her eyes into Suga’s skull. Tamiko and the twins would be home soon. If Suga could hold out until they tumbled through the doorway, then he would be able to slip around his sister.

            “You’ve been jumpy lately. Mom and myself are getting really worried about you,” she said. “We don’t want to catch on too late and have a repeat of dad.”

            Suga looked at her, unbelieving. “I’m not- I’m not dad. I’m not crazy, Hiro.”

            “Are you doing drugs?”

            “No! Just leave me alone, okay? I’m not crazy and I’m not doing drugs! I can figure this out by myself.” Suga shook his head, trying to dispel some of the anxiety that was pressurizing in his head. “Let me handle this by myself. I don’t need you or mom on my back all the time. I’m graduating this year. I can handle it.”

            Hiroko rose her eyebrows and stated, “Yeah, and mom doesn’t want to send you off to some university in Tokyo if you’re not stable, Kou.”

            Suga glared at her. “I’m perfectly stable. Tell mom she doesn’t need to worry about me.” He could hear the kids outside as they ran up the stairs. He reached behind him and opened the door, letting them in and using the distraction to slip past Hiroko.

            In his room, Suga froze, trembling as he stood in the middle of the bedroom. His fingers touched his face, shaking hands running over the skin of his cheeks and chin. If he would stop touching his face so much, maybe he would be breaking out so badly. But how could he stop when he was constantly freaking the fuck out?

            Hiroko had caught on. His mom had caught on. They knew. They knew. They were going to talk to Suga. They were going to ask questions. They were going to dig it back up.

            They couldn’t know. If they knew, they would only get hurt.

            Ting!

            Unknown Thinking about you. Picturing your rosy lips stretched tight around my cock.

            Suga picked up his phone and threw it to the floor, picking up his desk chair and smashing one of the wheels down on the screen. He continued slamming it down on his phone until the screen was dented and shattered completely. He dropped the chair and knelt down in front of his phone, pressing the home button. The screen stayed black.

            But Suga still felt like there was somebody just over his shoulder, just out of his sight.

            He couldn’t go to school. As long as he was going to school, he was vulnerable. The man would always follow him, and he would be putting all of his friends at risk. But if he stayed home, he would be putting his family at risk.

            His head was going to explode. A migraine was hammering against his skull and white light was flashing in front of his eyes. Suga got off the floor, rattled his window and unlocked and relocked it, and then hit the light switch harshly, encasing himself in a faded darkness.

            He got into his bed, but he didn’t close his eyes. He wasn’t ever going to be able to sleep again, so long as the man was watching him. Suga stared at his broken phone, it’s dismembered corpse still laying on his floor.

            Suga rolled over and peered through the cracked between his bed and the wall. He jumped, his heart stopping. The man’s face was there, grinning devilishly up at him, his eyes glinting red.

            Suga scrambled off his bed and dropped to the floor, peering under the bedframe. The only thing underneath his bed was the box containing the dog toy. No human. No man. No rapist. Suga shakily got back into his bed, looking cautiously down the crack again.

            And there he was. His mouth was spread too wide. His teeth were sharpened to points. The panic engulfing Suga made him sway dizzily and he got off his bed again, reaching under the bedframe and gripping it, yanking the entire bed away from the wall. He pulled his bed so it was at least two feet away from any wall.

            He got back under his covers, paralyzed with fear. He didn’t let any part of his body go over the edges of the bed. He could feel the man still. The box holding the dog toy was now exposed. Suga had to get rid of it. He had to get rid of it.

            He was going to vomit.

            Suga got out of his bed, yet again, and grabbed the box. It felt like it weighed a million pounds. When he opened his door, Hiroko was there, her hand up in a gesture like she was about to knock.

            “What’s that? What- What did you do to your room?” she asked, eyes widening as she peered around him at the toppled over chair, out of place bed, and shattered phone.

            “I’m going to the dump. I’ll be right back.”

            He pushed passed her.

            “Koushi-!”

            Suga went down the stairs and opened up the closet holding the rubbish bags. He dropped the cardboard box inside of it. Then he opened up the junk drawer and picked out a box of matches, putting it in the bag as well.

            He left the house, entering the garage.

            He had to get rid of it.

            Suga grabbed a small canister of gasoline and carefully put it in the bag as well. Then he left the house and stepped onto the back alley behind their house. Just a few blocks down there was a metal dumpster. It was still light outside, but Suga was fine with that. If it was still bright outside, the man couldn’t sneak up on him in the darkness. Suga checked over his shoulder every minute as he trudged down the alley towards the dumpster.

            When he reached it, he opened up the cardboard box, his stomach flipping as he looked at the dog toy. He poured some of the gasoline over the chew toy and let it saturate the cardboard. Then he tossed it into the dumpster and drizzled the remaining gasoline in as well.

            Suga opened the box of matches and snapped one across the side, a small flame igniting. He lifted his hand over the edge and dropped the match into the garbage. Almost instantly a larger flame ignited. Suga lit another match and did the same, dropping it in another spot.

            He used all of the matches but one. The last one, he lit and then held the flame underneath his wrist. The pain was white hot and he flinched away. His hands were shaking like an earthquake and the dumpster was like a bonfire now. It smelled rancid.

            He put the empty box and last match in the dump as well, before walking away and cutting through someone’s property to return to the main road.

            No one had seen a thing.

            Except for the man, who sat in his house peering down at Sugawara through a window as the young silver haired boy ignited the dumpster. It was the man who called the fire station, reporting the fire in the dumpster.

            Suga arrived home just as he heard the sirens.

〚 16 〛

            Suga didn’t go to school that day. He got up and got ready like usual, packing his lunch and saying goodbye to his mom. But he didn’t end up at school. He took a wrong turn purposely, and made a wide loop—returning back to his house a half hour later. He unlocked the door, his mom already gone for work, and dropped his stuff in the entrance way. He locked the door once he was inside. He left the lights off.

            Around 10am, the school phoned to let the household know that Suga was marked absent that day—with no parental/guardian consent. Suga waited for the message to go to the answering machine before punching in the code and deleting it.

            For the rest of the day, he sat at the kitchen table and dissociated completely, leaving his body. He didn’t get up for lunch. He didn’t get up when someone knocked at the door. He didn’t get up when he got thirsty. Right up until the moment his younger siblings returned home from school, Suga sat at the table and tried to erase every aspect of himself.

            When he returned to his body, he felt farther away from reality than he had before.

            “How was school, Kou? You’re home early,” Hiroko commented as she walked in with kids. She passed Suga the baby—who had been at daycare all day.

Suga had almost forgotten he had a baby sister.

            Suga looked down at his youngest sister, perched on his lap, fully alert and awake. She bounced up and down, her sausage like legs pumping wildly.

            “Koushi, can you feed her? She was being fussy apparently so she’s probably starving by now,” Hiroko said, grabbing snacks for the other kids. “There should be some crackers for her in her bag.”

            Suga got off his chair, his rear end numb from being seated for so long, and crouched down in front of the baby’s bag. He pulled out the baggie of crackers and the baby grabbed at them.

            “Did you want a bagel?” Hiroko wondered, her knife hovering over the bagel she was buttering for Mitsuki.

            Suga frowned. “No,” he said quietly, shaking his head.

            Once Hiro finished feeding the three children, she shooed them out of the kitchen and got them comfortable in front of the television. Then she planted her hands on her hips and looked down at Suga, still on the floor with the baby.

            “I saw in the paper today that there was a massive fire in the dumpster just down our road yesterday. That wasn’t you by any chance, was it?”

            It wasn’t a question. Suga had told her he was going to the dumpster that evening. He hadn’t considered the fact that their small town would think that that incident would be worth putting in the local paper.

            Hiroko got down in a crouch, looking at her brother. “What’s going on with you? None of this is like you at all. You’re starting to really scare me, and I promise, you can talk to me about anything and I’m not going to judge you.”

            Suga didn’t meet her eyes. He kept his focus on handing his sister baby crackers.

            “Is something happening at school? Or volleyball? Is that why you haven’t been going?”

            Suga shook his head, not daring to open his mouth. He was scared that if he did everything would come tumbling out.

            “Did something happen with Daichi?”

            Again, another silent shake of his head.

            Hiroko’s face was pained. “Please, talk to me, Kou. I know that something’s really wrong, but I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. Why did you start the dumpster on fire? What were you taking out there?”

            Suga’s throat was closing up. His sister was getting too close to finding out what had happened. He was getting too close. He couldn’t think up a single lie. Tears burned his eyes and one fell off his eyelashes, dripping onto his baby sister’s head. He brushed it off and his shoulders shook.

            Hiroko breathed out a sound of second-hand pain and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders tightly. The baby between them was oblivious to the situation as she happily munched on her crackers.

            “It’s going to be okay. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s going to be okay, Koushi. When you’re ready, please talk to mom or me. I don’t like seeing you like this. It really hurts,” Hiro whispered, rubbing Suga’s back. “We just want to help you. Please let us.”

            Suga pulled back and muttered, “Can you take her? I’m really tired. I’m going to take a nap.”

            Hiroko took the baby and Suga got to his feet. He went straight to bed and didn’t wake up until the next morning.

            ⌜⋯⌟

When he did wake up, the first thing he saw was his opened window.

            The second thing he saw was the photo of him, propped against his lamp. It was a sickeningly clear photo of him at the dumpster the other night. And there was a whole series of them, scattered on the floor around his bed. The photo’s seemed to catch every movement he had made.

            There was one photo at the foot of his bed. When he picked it up, his stomach churned as he stared at the zoomed in snapshot of his face. On the back it read;

            I guess now that you don’t have a phone, I’m going to have to do things the old fashioned way. This is your fault, Koushi.

〚 17 〛

Suga had never been more terrified in his entire life. After finding the photos, he had ripped them up into tiny, tiny pieces and shoved the confetti sized bits into one of his nightstand drawers. He could barely get himself to school he was so paranoid and full of choking anxiety. When he did get there, he was so tightly wound his heart nearly burst out of his chest when Daichi put a hand on his shoulder.

            “Whoa, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Daichi said, surprised himself at Suga’s reaction. “It’s just me.”

            “Sorry,” Suga responded hoarsely, his breathing shaky. “I’m sorry.”

            Daichi looked at him, his face worried. “You don’t have to be sorry, Suga. Where have you been? You weren’t here yesterday and I can’t get a hold of you at all.”

            “Oh, I, um, I dropped my phone in the sink when I was washing dishes the other night. Sorry. And I wasn’t feeling good yesterday,” Suga bluffed. He glanced at Daichi’s hand, still on his shoulder.

            The black haired boy had his eyebrows tightly scrunched together. He slid his hand off Suga’s shoulder and asked, “Do you want to come to practice after school? We miss you. And we have the annual training camp coming up.”

            The training camp.

            “Wh-When is it again?”

            “Over break,” Daichi said, looking more confused and concerned by the second. “Our May break is coming up, Suga. Do you even know what day it is today?”

            Suga flushed red and looked down, saying quietly, “Not really.”

            “It’s the eighth of May. A Thursday. Are you okay?”

            And even quieter, “Not really, no.”

            Daichi grabbed Suga’s hand and pulled him into the closest empty classroom, closing the door quietly. Immediately, Suga stopped breathing, consciously aware that he was alone with Daichi.

            But Daichi would never hurt him.

            “What’s wrong? I’m really scared for you, Suga. And not seeing you around or being able to text you scares me even more. I don’t know whether you’re alright or not.”

            Suga unfurled his clenched fists and stared at his feet, feeling defeated. Tell Daichi, tell him. Tell him, Suga. Tell him.

            Tell him that that man raped you. That he stalked you. That he broke into your room. That he won’t leave you the fuck alone.

            Suga brought his hands up to his face again. His shaking fingers dug themselves into his soft cheeks. He wanted to scratch his face off. He wanted to rip his cheeks apart and he wanted to snap his jaw so it unhinged like a snake. He wanted to claw his eyes out. He wanted to dig his way into his brain and get rid of everything.

            “Suga, what’s this?”

            Daichi grabbed his wrist and flipped it over, looking at the blistering burn mark.

            “I accidentally reached over a candle,” Suga lied softly.

            Tell him. Let Daichi know. Stop lying. Nothing’s going to be fixed if you just wallow is self pity. Tell him, god dammit.

            Suga’s heart was thundering in his chest and he felt like he was going to hyperventilate. The words were caught in the back of his mouth, making his tongue feel swollen. He legs had lost all feeling and he feared they were going to disappear from underneath of him.

            “I’m fine…” he choked out. His head was spinning. He couldn’t tell Daichi. Anxiety was wrapping around Suga like a python, squeezing him tightly. He couldn’t see all of the sudden. His migraine was back. He was going to pass out. The man was behind Daichi, his face split into a hungry sneer. “I’m fine, Daichi… I’m…”

            He was drowning. Suga physically couldn’t inhale a breath. He was beginning to panic, and the man behind Daichi was laughing. Suddenly, the knitted hat was back in his mouth, suffocating him. Suga couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t move.

            “Suga, you’re not breathing,” Daichi said, voice tinged with panic himself.        

            Suga’s legs folded and Daichi caught him, sliding them both to the floor.

            “Koushi, breathe. You’re okay. You’re okay. Just breathe. Don’t think about anything else right now. Just focus on breathing. Come on, Suga, come on.”

            “I’m fine, Dai,” Suga gasped, oxygen flooding into his empty lungs. He grasped his head and breathed out so quietly that he could barely hear himself, “I’m so fucking scared. I want to die. I want to kill myself. I’m so scared. I’m so scared. I’m so scared.”

            Daichi shook his head. “You’re not fine. What’s happening, Suga? What happened?” 

            “It’s nothing, it’s nothing!” Suga cried, covering his mouth with his hands as he swallowed down sobs. “I promise, I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m happy! Daichi, I’m fine!”

            “You’re not. And you’re starting to really scare me,” Daichi said, eyes wide.

            The man was leering over Suga threateningly and Daichi was doing nothing about it. Daichi wasn’t doing anything. Suga curled in on himself, his chest still tight.

            How had the man known Suga was going to be at the dumpster? How had the man gotten into his room without waking him? The man was in his room. While he was asleep. What if he had drugged Suga? And touched him? Touched him more?

            Suga hadn’t looked around hard enough after he woke up. He was too focused on the photos of himself. What if the man had done something else? Took something?

            Daichi was saying something.

            What if the man went into his sibling’s room? Or his mom’s room?

            “Suga, please breathe,” Daichi begged. “Please, please, please. You need to calm down. Maybe you should go home?”

            Suga wanted to scream at Daichi that school wasn’t the problem. That he couldn’t go home. He tried to uncurl himself and he saw that the man was gone.

            Daichi was suddenly quiet. Unsure of what to say. Daichi; unable to give direction. All he could do was keep repeating what had already been said. “Suga, hey, hey, you need to breathe. I’m scared you’re going to pass out.”

            Please pass out. Please faint. Please, please, please, Suga begged to himself. He had his hand over his mouth still, and Daichi gently pulled it away, linking their fingers together. Suga’s mind reeled and he stared at his hand entwined with Daichi’s.

            “Suga, what the hell happened?” he asked quietly. “What happened to my happy little angel? You can tell me anything. What’s making you so scared? Did somebody hurt you?”

            YES. YES. YESYESYESYESYESYESYES YESES YE S YE S Y E S YES YES Y E S

            Suga yanked his hand out of Daichi’s hold and clamped it over his mouth again, muffling a jagged cry. Somebody knocked on the door and Suga’s muscles tensed. It was him. It was him. It was him. IT WAS HIM.

            Daichi sprung to his feet and opened the door. In a quieted voice he said, “Sugawara’s having a panic attack, sorry. I brought him in here. We can leave if you have a class.”

            A female’s voice spoke. “Oh, well, the bell hasn’t gone quite yet. Do you mind if I come in and see if I can help?”

            The door opened wider and light spilled into the darkened room. Suga was light-headed and dizzy from his lack of oxygen, and when the teacher crouched down her perfume filled his nostrils. She laid a hand on his back.

            “You’re at school, Sugawara,” she said gently. Grounding him wasn’t going to work. Suga hadn’t been grounded since that night. “You’re at school and it’s eight… twenty-two in the morning. What’s your first class?”

            Suga was quivering like a leaf in an autumn breeze. “I don’t know. I don’t know what my first class is.”

            “Alright, hey, that’s alright. It’s no problem. Do you want the lights on?”

            Suga shook his head, gasping breaths bursting from him. Daichi was still standing by the door, silently.

            The teacher ran her hand up and down his back. “I’m going to start counting down from one hundred, okay? Nice and slowly. I want you to jump in when you’re ready.”

            Suga couldn’t hear the first few numbers that she said. Eventually his ears started to clear themselves out and her soft voice trickled in. She was on eighty-three. His body felt exhausted all of the sudden and the only thing he could focus on was her voice. The numbers took up all of the space in his head, bumping out the anxiety.

            Suga was tired.

            The bell rang sharply, piercing Suga’s mushy mind like an ice pick. The teacher faded out her counting and then asked:

            “Do you think you can stand now?”

            Suga shakily got to his feet, aided by the teacher. When Daichi opened the door up again, her students were standing there, all confused and waiting patiently. She told them to take their seats and then exited the room with Daichi and Suga. She still had a hand steadying Suga up by an elbow.

            “Do you want someone to phone home for you?” she asked, face concerned. “Or do you want Sawamura here to take you up to down to the guidance counsellor?”

            “No, I’m fine,” Suga said quietly, wiping his tears and shaking his head. “I’ll go to class. I’m okay, really.” He strung together a laugh, but it wasn’t very reassuring.

            The teacher shared a look with Daichi that Suga didn’t miss. Daichi said he could take it from here, and the teacher disappeared back into her classroom. Daichi grasped Suga’s hand softly and started walking down the hall with him.

            “You need to go to class,” Suga said, pulling back. “You’re going to get a tardy, Daichi.”

            “I don’t mind. I want to make sure you’re okay before going anywhere. Come on, just walk with me. We’ll clear your head a bit. We can play hooky for first class,” Daichi said, smiling. He lightly tugged Suga’s hand, encouraging him to move his feet.

            “Daichi,” Suga said, irritated now. He couldn’t get out of Daichi’s grip, and it felt like he was in a cage all of the sudden. He had his wrists tied. Daichi wouldn’t let go. “Please, go to class. I want… I want to be alone right now, alright? I want to be alone.” He tore his hand from Daichi’s.

            And his boyfriend stared at him. A massive chasm was forming between them and Suga couldn’t stop it. He watched as the floor split and created a hole—making it impossible for Suga to go with Daichi, and vice versa.

            Suga stared back at Daichi, shocked at his own actions and venomous words.

            “Alright,” Daichi whispered. “I just wanted to help you. You know I’m here when you’re ready to talk about what’s going on.” He paused. “I love you.”

            Suga screwed his jaw shut, silent on his side of the cliff. Daichi frowned and then turned away, disappearing down the hall before turning into a classroom. Suga was planted in his spot, too scared to move. He feared that if he did, the floor would fall out from underneath of him and he would disappear into the chasm.  

            But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

   ⌜⋯⌟

            After school, Suga locked himself up in his room in bed and tried to ease the paranoia that was kicking at his head. He suddenly started missing his phone, wishing he could listen to music or something to occupy his mind. But his broken phone was still on his desk, where his mom had put it earlier.

            Suga felt so alone. Without his phone, he couldn’t text anybody and he couldn’t see that there were others out in the world. And suddenly, Suga felt like his isolation was crushing him. His chest hurt. His throat burned. His muscles ached. And he was so fucking lonely and so fucking scared.

            It was suffocating him.

            Suga clenched his pillow to his chest and curled around it, tears pooling in his eyes. He felt broken, and he couldn’t seem to get away from it. Before, he would touch himself, he would jerk himself off or finger himself and picture it as Daichi. He loved fantasizing about how his first time would be.

            He couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror now. He couldn’t even imagine touching himself without feeling sick. His first time didn’t meet up to his fantasies. His first time had completely destroyed every aspect of his being.

            Suga couldn’t imagine ever having sex again.

            He sniffed and slid a hand underneath the pillow below his head, flinching when his hand struck something pointed. He sat up, blinking some tears off his lashes and lifted the pillow.

            Sitting there was an envelope addressed to him. Beside his name was a familiar looking heart. Suga picked up the envelope and looked towards his window. It was closed, locked tight, with the large vase still sitting on the ledge like he’d left it that morning. His mouth was dry suddenly and he opened up the letter with dull, bloodied, bit down nails.

            He unfolded the paper, heart inching up his esophagus.

            The only thing written on the paper was, in very tiny lettering in the bottom left corner, You have a lovely garden. Doodled beside the words was a small flower with five perfect petals. Suga didn’t move from his spot. He was paralyzed, staring at the note that had somehow appeared beneath his pillow.

            The man had been in his bed.

            Suga flung up the covers he’d been hiding under just a few minutes ago and looked at the grey bedsheets. He gagged violently when he saw the crusted, milk-ish stain on the sheets. He got off his bed immediately, and fell to the ground, retching grossly. The paper was still clasped in his hand.

            And then his body pulled up the food he’d eaten earlier, ejecting it out of his body and Suga harshly vomited onto the floor.

            The man had been in his bed. And he had masturbated, laying in Suga’s bed.

            Suga crumpled the paper and shredded his bedsheets off his bed, tearing them to the floor. He had to get rid of them. He had to get rid of them. He had to, he had to, he had to, he had to get rid of them.

            But he had used up all of the matches burning the garbage dump. He had to try something else. Suga wiped his mouth and got to his feet, clumsily stumbling down the stairs and going to the junk drawer again. They would have a lighter in there. Surely. A lighter. A cigarette lighter. Some sort of flame.

            Suga grabbed the small orange lighter and ran back upstairs, hearing his siblings arguing in their room. He looked at the sheets on the floor, clarity suddenly making him shake his head.

            What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t just burn his bedsheets in his room. He would start the whole house on fire. Suga’s stomach lurched as he looked at the bedsheets again and he gathered them in his arms.

            The scent of the semen was dizzying.

            “Kou, what are you doing?” Hiroko asked, giving him a confused look as he passed by the living room.

            “I… I spilled hot chocolate on my sheets. I’m going to get rid of them,” he said. His vision was clouded, but no matter how many times he blinked it wouldn’t clear itself.

            Hiroko frowned. “Just toss them in the wash, yeah? You don’t need to throw them out.”

            “I do,” Suga snapped. He whipped open the front door and stepped out of the house, trailing around to the flower garden along the side. He knelt down and began digging a hole, tearing up all of his mother’s flowers. Once the hole was big enough, he dropped the sheets into it and flicked the lighter.

            “Look at what you’ve done to those innocent flowers. They had bright futures ahead of them, you know. And then you came and fucked it up.”

            Suga jumped and snapped his head up. Across his lawn, down on the pavement, was the man. It was HIM. He had a leash with him. He had a dog biscuit. His hair was exposed—no hat this time.

            Suga couldn’t move. He was frozen, just like the first time. Move, dammit!

            “Say… have you seen a dog around?”

            “Go away,” Suga croaked. “Please, just stop. You already did your damage. Go away.”

            The man frowned and started towards Suga.

            Monster. Monster. Monster monsterMOnstER monsTERMONSTERMONSTMONSTERMONSTER  HE WAS A MONSTER.

            “You’re fascinating to watch though, Koushi,” the man said icily. He crouched down to Suga’s level, and Suga was terrified to do so much as breathe. The little flame on the lighter had gone out, and the man plucked it from his fingers.

            “You really shouldn’t be playing with fire. Tsk, tsk. Have you found what I left you though?” The man cocked his head, eyes flashing. His glasses made his eyes glint like knives, Suga noticed.

            When he didn’t respond, the man leaned forward, making Suga gasp out a breath and scramble back. And then the man started sifting through the dirt, covering the sheets up. After a few seconds, Suga saw what the man was digging up.

            The man lifted it up and brushed off some of the dirt, looking at it.

            “Get away from me,” Suga said shakily. The man pouted and held up the rubber cock, wiggling it in front of Suga’s face.

            “Oh, how I would love to see this buried deep inside of you. I couldn’t see much in the dark, such a shame.”

            And before Suga could react, he slapped it across his face, chuckling devilishly.

            Suga wanted to throw up again.

            “But, I should get going before you start screaming, isn’t that right? I’ll be seeing you around, babe.”

            He dropped the rubber dildo down on Suga’s lap and then stood up, getting to his feet and sauntering off as if nothing had happened. Suga threw the sex toy into the hole again and hastily buried it. He brushed himself off, collected himself, and then went back into the house.

            He ignored his sister’s irritated questions about what he’d done with the bedsheets.

〚 22 〛

            Things stayed quiet for a few days after the run in by the garden. Suga felt himself distancing himself farther and farther away from the people at school. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Daichi—no matter how many times Daichi (bless him, he didn’t deserve any of this) tried to strike up conversation, or brushed his hand against Suga’s leg.

            Suga was too rattled and was too paranoid to be able to reciprocate any sort of affection. So he avoided Daichi. He avoided Asahi—who kept giving Suga sympathetic and sad looks in class. He avoided everybody. He didn’t want to talk to anybody.

            It was the same at home. He didn’t tell his mom or sister anything. He kept his responses short. He was impatient with his younger siblings, snapping at them when they wanted to play.

            And Suga continued to methodically check the windows and doors. His mom had stopped reopening them, and just watched with concerned eyes as Suga shook the doorknobs and windows. And he continued to avoid his homework, and he avoided volleyball.

            Nearly a week passed by and Suga didn’t see or hear of the man. He didn’t spend too much time out of his room anymore. He lined the floor below his window with mouse traps he’d bought at the store. He considered surrounding his bed with them as well, but figured he would probably forget about them and wake up one morning to a nasty surprise.

            He’d originally put mouse traps under his mom’s and sibling’s windows as well, but got in trouble when Tamiko got curious and snapped her finger in one.

            His mom tried asking vague questions, making vague statements. Suga didn’t even try to steer her off the path of thinking he was developing paranoid schizophrenia like his father. Because maybe that’s what this was.

            Except, Suga knew there was something to fear when he entered his room after school to see the suction cup bottomed dildo attached to the inside of the window. When he went to rip it down, he’d forgotten about the mouse traps in his anxious and panicked haste. Two went off, one snapping down like an alligators jaw on his baby toe, and another on his big toe.

            And Suga went down, yelping. He could hear the man laughing. The dildo was on the ground, just beside his hand. Suga swore loudly, whipping it at the wall and feeling frustrated tears leak from his eyes.

            “Leave me alone! Leave me alone!” he cried hoarsely, prying the mouse traps off his toes painfully. He threw them away too, and a few others jumped shut unexpectedly.

            He was angry. He wanted the dildo out of his room. It was too realistic. It was too much like the man’s cock. It made him sick.

            “Koushi?” his sister knocked on the door.

            “Go away! Go away!” Suga shouted, feeling his bones snap as he curled himself up. His toe was bleeding, a dark red stain spreading where the nail of his pinky toe was, soaking into his white sock. “Go away!”

            There were no other sounds from outside the door, and Suga assumed his sister had left. So he laid there, tears dripping from his eyes, across his nose, and onto the floor. The mouse traps that had caught him, not the intruder, clasped shut around him. The sex toy dejectedly laying on the floor near the wall. His toe bleeding and throbbing.

            Suga didn’t get off the floor for three hours, and eventually his crying soothed and he drifted into unconsciousness.

〚 23 〛

            “Suga-senpai?” a small voice asked.

            Suga jumped, head snapping around over his shoulder. His eyes focused on Hinata’s fiery hair poking out from behind Kageyama—who was sipping milk from a carton.

            “Oh, hi, Hinata; Kageyama,” Suga said hoarsely, running his hands down his legs and glancing down at his untouched lunch on the bench beside him. He looked back at the first years. “What do you guys need?”

            Hinata inched out from behind Kageyama, clasping his hands behind himself. “Nothing. Kageyama wanted to see if you were alright.”

            Suga scanned the schoolyard. It was rainy today and there was nobody else outside. But Suga could still feel him, somewhere; watching. Suga didn’t want the younger two to get hurt.

            “I’m fine,” Suga said, putting on a plastic smile. “You guys shouldn’t be out here, though. You’ll catch a cold.”

            “Well, then, neither should you,” Hinata pointed out. He swung his hips. “What are you doing out here anyways?”

            Suga didn’t have an answer to that. Was it because he couldn’t be around Daichi or Asahi anymore? Was it because he wanted to get sick, so he could stay home from school? Was it because he wanted to confront the man?

            “Suga-san?”

            The laugh Suga forced out felt like it was going to eat him alive. “I’m not really sure why I’m out here.” He laughed weakly. “Just… Like the smell of the rain.” It was a flimsy lie, and neither Hinata or Kageyama looked like they believed it.

            “But your food is all wet,” Kageyama said, looking genuinely concerned about the fact.

            Why wouldn’t they go away?

            “Not hungry anyways,” Suga answered, impatience tinging his voice.

            Hinata’s hair was beginning to frizz and curl tightly on the ends. He cocked his head at his senior and then asked sadly, “Why don’t you ever come to practice anymore? We all really miss you, you know. Are you going to come to the practice camp at least?”

            “I don’t really know, Hinata…”

            “You have too! You love volleyball, Suga-kun!” Hinata cried. His face looked torn. “I bet we could get you to smile at least once at the camp! Please?”

            Suga’s mask fell. His forced smile crumbled. His eyes lost their sparkle. He could feel rivulets of rain trickle down his face and slide off his jaw. Or were those tears? Was he crying? He was crying too much these days, but it always came so suddenly. He reached his hands up and touched his face.

            “Hinata,” Kageyama said quietly, eyes softened as he looked at their senpai, sitting, looking broken in the rain. “If he doesn’t want to come, don’t pester him about it.”

            Hinata’s face was scrunched up as he struggled not to cry, and the sight shot straight through Suga’s chest like a spear. It was his fault. It was his fault he was making everyone around him hurt. They didn’t deserve it.

            “No, I’ll come, Hinata,” Suga said, his voice shattering like a plate. “I’ll come. When- When do we leave?”

            “Tomorrow,” Hinata said shakily. “Ukai wants us on the bus at eight so we have most of the day to play. I promise, it’ll be fun! You won’t even have time to be sad we’ll be so busy.”

            Suga swallowed back tears, but he knew they were visibly pooling in his eyes.

            “Please, don’t cry,” Hinata said. “Don’t cry, senpai.”

            Suga covered his face with his hands, embarrassed.

            Hinata and Kageyama slowly stepped forward. Kageyama picked up the lunch box and clicked the top back on. He held it and Hinata sat down next to Suga. Neither of them said anything as Suga’s shoulders shook, and he choked back snot and sobs. The rain had him chilled right down to his bones.

            And then, Hinata wrapped his arms around Suga and hugged him tightly, saying, “It’s okay to cry. We all get sad sometimes. You know we’re all here for you, Suga-kun. We’re all really worried and we just want you back. But if you need time, we can give you time. We just want you back eventually. It’s lonely without you.

            “And Daichi had been more annoyed with us than usual, but we know it’s just because he’s scared for you. Noya-san has been wanting to kidnap you and drag you to practice.”

            Suga coughed out a slight laugh at that.

            Hinata continued. “You should come see Yamaguchi. He’s really gotten good at setting—Kageyama’s been teaching him some things. And Tanaka is Tanaka, but he’s louder than usual. I think he’s been trying to make up for the emptiness where you would usually be.”

            “What- What about you, Hinata?” Suga hiccupped, trying to wipe away some of the dampness from his cheeks.

            “Me? I ran into the volleyball basket and broke one of the wheels off. Ukai wasn’t too happy with that, and I think I gave Takeda-sensei an aneurysm. Yachi thought I’d broken my arm.”

            He stopped talking, but his arms didn’t loosen. Suga breathed deeply into his clenched hands, calming himself down.

            And then Kageyama spoke up.

            “Can we go back inside? It’s pouring now. Also, I’m out of milk.”

〚 24 〛

Sleep didn’t come to Suga that night and when 7:15am rolled around, he crawled out of bed with a tight chest and heavily got into the shower. The house was quiet still, everybody still asleep but him. His mom would be waking up soon though, to make her usual waffles that she did whenever Suga had a big game or was going away for a training camp.

            In the shower, Suga scrubbed at his face viciously, in attempts to wake himself up and hopefully get rid of the increasing number of pimples that were starting to scatter his skin. He felt grimy and greasy, no matter how many times he shampooed his hair or rubbed body wash over his skin.

            After being in the rain yesterday, he had caught a chill and a plugged nose. He cranked the water to the hottest it could go without feeling like it was physically burning his skin off, but he still felt cold. It was embedded in his body.

            When Suga decided to get out of the shower, he spent too long staring at himself in the mirror. Droplets of water dripping off his hair and trickling down his pale shoulders; almost purple coloured bags of sleep deprivation beneath his eyes; a field of acne on his cheeks and chin; a red nose from either excessive crying or his cold; and there was a rash forming on his collar bone from scratching it so much out of anxiety and paranoia.

            “Koushi, honey, it’s time to get out of the bathroom,” his mom’s voice startled. “It’s almost quarter to eight and you’ve got to be there at eight. I have breakfast ready for you on the table.”

            “I don’t think I want to go anymore,” Suga responded, his voice thin and quiet.

            “Why not? It’ll be good for you to get out of the house, baby.”

            Suga couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mirror; the man had appeared behind him.

            “Koushi, you need to go. This will be your last training camp before you graduate.”

            His heart faltered and his stomach twisted thinking about graduation. He hadn’t put any thought into where he was going to go for post-secondary education.

            “Come on, sweetheart. Why don’t you come down for breakfast and then I’ll drive you to the school? You can take my phone with you and if you really, really want to come home, you can text your sister or call the house and I’ll come get you.”

            Suga got into his sweatpants agonizingly slow and slipped a sweatshirt over his head, opening the door and looking at his mom. Her hair was still a little bit erratic from sleep, but her usual bandana was back in it’s place. The constellation of tiny moles on the left side of her jaw were prominent against her pale skin.

            “Please tell me what’s wrong,” she said softly, her eyes saddening when she looked at her son. “I hate seeing you like this.”

            Suga’s throat snapped closed like a Venus fly trap. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to tell somebody, but every time he tried it was like the man was there, tightening a noose around his neck and whispering at him to shut his mouth.

            When his mom saw that he wasn’t going to respond, she sighed and then said, “Come eat. You don’t want to miss the bus. I’ll bring your bag down; you just go eat.”

            As Suga descended the stairs, he thought about the sex toy he had hidden in his closet. He shook with a shiver of cold as he slid into a chair. Would the man follow him to the training camp? Or would he stay in town and take this chance to do something to his family? The idea scratched at the back of Suga’s head like a caged wolf.

            The plate he had sat down in front of had too much food on it. Eggs, sausage, waffles, toast. Too much. Suga hadn’t eaten that much for almost a month. The sausage made his gag reflex twitch, just looking at it. The egg had runny yolk spreading across his plate. It looked too much like the blood and cum that Suga had tried so hard to clean himself of that night.

            The toast he could handle.

            While his mom was upstairs, he swept the eggs and sausage into the trash bin.

            It was 7:52am. Maybe, if he was lucky, the bus would leave without him.

            “Do you have enough underwear?” his mom asked as she came down the stairs.

            “Yeah.”

            “And you have your toothbrush and toothpaste?”

            “Mhm.”

            His mom pressed a kiss to his still wet hair.

            “I love you,” she said.

            “Mhm.”

            She poured him a glass of milk.

            As the thin, white fluid sloshed into the glass, Suga’s stomach contents sloshed right along with it. He would rather die than drink that.

            “Oh! Oh, my god, look at the time. Alright, come on, in the car. We don’t want you to miss the bus,” his mom cried. “You’re sure you have everything? Here’s my phone. I want you to eat while you’re there. They’re going to work you hard, so you’ll need the energy. In the car, in the car.”

            Suga closed his eyes tiredly. His actions were delayed, but eventually he dragged himself to his feet and grabbed his bag, trailing after his mom out the door.

            There was a man walking his dog down the street and he raised his hand, saying, “Good morning!” as Suga and his mom exited their house.

            No, not a man.

            THE man. A rapist.

            Where was the dog from? Suga turned away quickly, throwing his bag into the back of the car and getting into the vehicle. His mom called back a cheery “Good morning!” in return before sliding into the driver’s side.

            Why was that man always around? Why was he always there?

            “I’ve never seen him before,” his mom said, oblivious. “Perhaps he’s new to the neighbourhood. Maybe we should get to know him. He seemed like a nice man.”

            “I’m going to be late,” Suga said bluntly.

            And his mom reversed the car. Suga hoped the man was still behind him, and he imagined the vehicle crunching over his body with a jolting bump. A wheel, crushing his skull, smattering his brains across the sidewalk.

            When Suga looked out his window, he saw the man walking away, unharmed.

⌜⋯⌟

            The fact that he was going to have to face Daichi had completely gone over Suga’s head, but the moment he stepped out of his mom’s vehicle and approached the bus, the anxiety hit him. His legs stopped and he couldn’t move. The team couldn’t see him, and he could see them, but suddenly this seemed like a horrible idea.

            When he turned around, his mom was gone.

            Suga felt like he was five years old again, left alone in a parking lot; scared and unsure of where his mom was. Back then, he had cried and screamed, terrified he was never going to see her again. That she had forgotten him. Five-year-old Suga was rocketed into absolute hysteria.

            Standing in the school parking lot now, the same feeling was clawing at his ankles.

            “Suga! Hey! Oh, man, it’s great to see you!”

            Suga shifted his gaze, looking at Tanaka—who was jumping out of his sister’s car before it had even come to a complete stop. The short haired second year bounced up to Suga and slung an arm around his shoulders—causing Suga to tense up and catch his breath.

            Tanaka steered Suga towards the other side of the bus, and the team broke out into smiles upon seeing their recently missing teammate. Even Ukai and Takeda smiled slightly, and Takeda checked off Tanaka and Suga’s name.

            “Alright, everyone’s here,” Takeda announced, flicking up his wrist and checking his wrist. “Right on time. Perfect. Everyone go take a seat and I’ll throw Tanaka and Sugawara’s bags in.”

            Suga handed Ukai his bag, suddenly seeming unsure and untrusting of his superiors. Tanaka’s arm slipped off of Suga’s shoulders as he hopped onto the bus alongside Noya. Suga absently watched the rest of the team climb aboard.

            And then Daichi stopped, one foot on the first step, and looked at his boyfriend. “Are we okay?”

            “Yeah,” Suga said tautly, smiling just as tight. He swallowed back the constant lump in his throat. “We’re okay.” He couldn’t trust his own words though. He didn’t know if they were okay. Suga didn’t know when he would fuck up next.

            “You look tired,” Daichi said, frowning. “Didn’t sleep very well last night?”

            Didn’t sleep at all, more like.

            This façade was exhausting. Suga had no idea how long he would be able to keep it up. “No, the baby was fussing all night. She’s sick.” A lie. “I’ll sleep on the bus.” Another lie. “Let’s go.” A lying smile.

            Suga accepted Daichi’s outstretched hand and followed him up the three steps. They took a seat near the front, in front of Kiyoko and Yachi. Suga slid in first and then Daichi trapped him against the window.

            “You can sleep, and I’ll wake you up when we get close,” Daichi said, squeezing Suga’s hand.

            He leaned against the window, shifting his body away from his boyfriend’s, and closed his eyes.

            But Suga didn’t sleep a wink the entire ride. The image of the man following their bus, walking around among the volleyball players, watching them all sleep, kept him awake. Suga wondered if he was ever going to see his mom again, or if the man was going to finish him.

            Suga mildly hoped the man would take a knife and pull his organs out.

            Suga was too tired.

⌜⋯⌟

            Everybody seemed to know. Karasuno was one of the last teams to arrive, and when they walked through the doors, it felt like everyone was staring at Suga and Suga alone. As if they knew that he had been fucked with a dog toy. They were bending their heads together, whispering about how Suga had let the man fill him with his seed.

            “We play Date Tech first,” Daichi said to Suga, scanning the gym. There were about five teams already there.

            “Date Tech?”

            “Yeah, they’re coming this year, and so is Seijoh—upon Oikawa’s request. I think we play twice today. Date Tech, and then some other team I don’t remember hearing about last year,” Daichi explained. He glanced over at Suga, looking shapeless and defeated in his oversized sweat clothes.  “Do you want to play?”

            Suga picked at a finger nail, peeling off the skin around it. “I… Well, not really… But I didn’t think I had a choice.”

            Daichi shrugged. “If you’re not feeling it, that’s fine. It’s just a training camp and you’ve been gone a while. If you want to ease back into it, I’m sure Ukai would understand.”

            “Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” Suga mumbled, looking down.

            “Don’t say that, Suga, it’s great that you’ve come,” Daichi said sadly. He hooked his pinky with his boyfriend’s. “Let’s go get sleeping arrangements and stuff set up, okay? And then it should be about time for lunch. It’s going to be fun.”

            Suga was so tired. He didn’t know how he was going to have the energy to have fun. The world around him seemed dimmed in comparison to the buzz in his head. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Sleep.

            He followed Daichi from the gymnasium down a gravel path, and up a slight hill. They passed through a random clot of trees and then the housing building came into sight. The building was freshly air conditioned and had some paintings hanging in the small, cozy lobby. Suga turned around and watched Takeda approach the doors, fanning his face with a map or pamphlet of sorts.

            “Is… Is there another training camp going on here?” Suga asked, startling at the sight of two boys walking by in basketball jersey’s, one holding an orange leather covered ball.

            Daichi glanced over as well, and bristled at the sight of the basketball players. Suga felt a laugh tickle his mouth, but it stopped at that. When had he been unable to laugh?

            “Basketball training camp,” Takeda said, panting. He pushed his glasses up on his head. “It’s gotten warm outside. That was too much of a trek for me.” He wiped his forehead. “Okay: rooms.”

            Suga watched Takeda knock on a window and poke his head into an office. While he talked with the person in charge of the keys and rooms, the rest of the Karasuno team trickled into the building. Yachi had put on a wide brimmed straw hat, and Kiyoko had put on a baseball cap—her ponytail pulled through the back of it.

            “Uuwaaaaah!” Hinata’s shriek came through the door. He had hopped behind Ennoshita and was staring up at the basketball players as they passed by. His face had paled and Suga couldn’t help but think he looked like the basketball in the player’s hand. Hinata wouldn’t make the best basketball, but he was sure those two players would have fun bouncing him around and throwing him through some baskets.

            “Did you see the size of those guys!?” the orange haired first year cried when he joined his seniors. “Beefy and tall! I’m smaller than that one guy’s right thigh!”

            Daichi laughed heartily, but Suga could see the irritation evident at his temple. Takeda returned with a key and passed it to the captain before saying to Ukai, “Because there’s another training camp here, we have to share a room. They said there’s only one bed.”

            Suga watched Ukai’s face twist into something of annoyance. Suga wondered what the rooms would be like at this camp. His thoughts dwindled into an underlying hum as he trailed after Daichi down the hall toward their room. Behind him, he could hear Kageyama and Tsukishima arguing about something, and Asahi talking with Noya about strawberries over watermelon.

            Daichi opened up the door.

            The room was surprisingly roomy. There were some floor mattresses in the corner, along with pillows and sheets. On the far wall was a wide window looking out at some trees and a picnic table. There was a shelving unit divided into multiple cubby-hole spaces for shoes or bags.

            The team shoved their way into the room, immediately dumping their bags onto the floor. Daichi glowered and snapped at them, telling them to put them in the shelves. He made no comment when Suga’s own bag slid from his shoulder and thudded to the floor loudly.

            What the hell was he doing here? He had to leave. He had to call his mom and tell her to pick him up.

            He had to leave. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all.

            Daichi picked up Suga’s bag and slid it into a cubby.

            How did Suga know that the man hadn’t followed them? He was putting everyone at the camp at risk. Everyone. If anything were to happen, it would be all Suga’s fault. What if the man got his hands on Yachi? Or Yama? Kenma? Yaku? Akaashi? Him? What if the man got his hands on him again?

            “Suga-san?”

            Suga’s eyes slid slowly to Kageyama, who was holding a mattress in his hands.

            The rest of the team was looking at him.

            Suga swayed, perplexed at by when everybody had begun setting their beds up. He didn’t recall spacing out. He was falling apart.

            Daichi’s eyes were burrowing into him, urging him to go over. Suga blinked and stepped over to his boyfriend. There was jumble spiking through his brain like a fuzzy radio signal. Words, but he couldn’t hear them over the demonic growling.

Suga was scared.

            “You okay?” Daichi asked in a low voice when Suga approached. The team went back to their business.

            “I shouldn’t be here, Daichi,” Suga said quietly. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

            Suga was speaking as if Daichi knew what had happened. A bitter laugh scratched at his throat.

            But Daichi went along with it. “It’s going to be fine. Nobody is going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

            Like sex?

            “Let’s set up your bed, okay? Then we’ll go for some lunch and meet up with the other teams,” Daichi said. “It’s going to be okay.”

            Suga’s body felt like it was moving in slow motion—unable to go faster as he set his bed up. His limbs felt heavy and his neck hurt, and he felt perpetually out of breath. His breathing felt forced and loud. Daichi put Suga’s bed together right up next to his own, and Suga topped it off with the pillow he had taken ten years to put into the case.

            He looked at the window, right next to him. He could tell already that didn’t have any sort of lock. It wouldn’t be hard for someone to cut the screen on the outside of the window and then simply push it open.

            If, of course, the man had actually followed the bus. Suga still wasn’t sure, but he was tense with the paranoia.

            “It’s beautiful here,” Daichi commented, noticing his boyfriend looking out the window.

            Suga hadn’t even noticed the scenery. He was only looking for one thing, and one thing only.

            The rest of the team was beginning to leave, going for lunch in pairs. Suga heard Hinata shout Kenma’s name and then Kuroo’s voice mock Tsukishima about something. Suga wondered where the other teams were situated, and if they would have to mingle with the basketball training camp. He wondered where Kiyoko and Yachi were, and if they were in a room of their own, or if they were with the other female managers from the other teams.

            “We should probably go for lunch before all the seats are taken, or there’s no food left,” Daichi suggested. He stared at Suga’s blank face. Suga knew he was taking into account the new acne, and the heavy bags beneath his eyes. His hair was fluffy as well, not lying silkily as it normally would.

            “Suga,” Daichi said softly.

            Suga’s eyes closed. He wanted to cry he was so tired, but his body refused to let him find solace. His body refused to relax. Tears prickled beneath his closed eyes, and he chomped down on his bottom lip as his face twisted with the intense need for crying.

            “Suga, babe, what’s the matter? Please tell me what’s going on,” Daichi pleaded. His voice was strained with hurt. When Suga didn’t speak up, Daichi leaned forward hugging him and burying his face into the crook of his neck. “I love you, not matter what. I want this week to be fun for you. I don’t want it to feel like a burden.”

            He could tell Daichi. Daichi wouldn’t judge him. He wouldn’t. But what if he did? What if he did?

            Suga gripped Daichi’s shirt, shaking and sobbing. There was no way he could tell him. Telling him would only make things worse for everyone and Daichi would want to get the police involved, and the police wouldn’t believe him, and his mom would become overbearing and suffocating. Suga couldn’t tell anybody. He didn’t want to deal with the mess it would create.

            Suga was still crying five minutes later when Asahi poked his head into the room, asking if they were coming for lunch. But the moment he saw Suga, he stopped midsentence and backed out of the room quietly.

            “You- you should go eat,” Suga sniffled, swallowing painfully. He pulled back, lifting his face from Daichi’s shoulder, and wiped his cheeks with his sweater sleeves. Somehow, he felt even more disconnected from the world than before.

            “Only if you come with me,” Daichi said. He gently ran his fingers through Suga’s hair, flattening it and tidying it up a bit. Suga could barely keep his eyes open, but no, he couldn’t sleep.

            He brushed Daichi’s hand away from him, looked out the window again, and then got to his feet—following Daichi out of the building and down the path, up to the dining hall. The noise coming from the cafeteria was dizzying, and when he stepped through the doors after Daichi, it felt like everybody’s eyes went to him.

            They all knew.

〚 24 〛

            Everybody went to bed around eleven. Suga had followed their actions; brushing his teeth; washing his face; sliding under the thin blanket. But after half an hour of laying in the dark, listening to Hinata whisper to Yamaguchi, Suga realized he wouldn’t be getting much sleep (again) that night.

            So, he left the room, quietly slipping out, and went to the lobby. One of the lamps was on, casting a warm glow down the dark hall and throughout the rest of the entrance. When Suga looked around the corner of the hall, he saw that there was someone lying on the sofa, their feet planted on the armrest.

            Suga recognized the white knee brace right away.

            “Oikawa? What are you doing out here?” he asked, blinking.

            Oikawa’s head snapped up in surprise and then his face broke into a wide smile. He swung his feet down, sitting up. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Refreshing,” he said. “Iwaizumi kicked me out of the room. He said the light of my phone was pissing him off.” Oikawa held up his phone, showing off the bright screen.

            “Oh,” Suga said. He sat down on the large, one-person chair, tucking his feet up underneath of himself, curling into a ball. He was still in the sweatshirt and sweatpants he had put on that morning.

            “What are you doing out here?”

            Suga frowned, rubbing his nose. “I don’t really know. I couldn’t sleep.”

            Oikawa was eyeing Suga, making him nervous. He’d always known that the captain of Seijoh was perceptive, but surely there was no way Oikawa would be able to guess that Suga couldn’t sleep because he was terrified of the man that had raped and was stalking him.

            “Why didn’t you play in any of your games this afternoon?”

            “I… I haven’t actually gone to practice for a month. So I wasn’t really ready to just jump right back into it again.”

            What if he told Oikawa?

Suga wasn’t exactly close with him, but he seemed like the kind of person that you could confide in, and he would just take it in and that would be that. Oikawa didn’t seem like the kind of person who needed to tell someone else, who needed to do something about it.

            “Haven’t gone for a month?” the brunette said, eyebrows hopping. “Geez, why not? I’ve never pegged you as the kind of person to just drop something like that.”

            He could tell Oikawa.

            “Something happened, I guess,” Suga shrugged, his throat tightening.

            Every time he came close to saying something, it was as if he couldn’t breathe.

            Why did that happen? Why could he suddenly not speak? He couldn’t get past that wall.

            Oikawa’s face didn’t change. He just scratched his jaw, yawned, and asked, “What happened?”

            I was raped.

            I was raped, Oikawa. And now he’s following me. He’s breaking into my room. He masturbated in my bed. He’s been taking pictures of me.

            I was raped and I’m terrified.

            “Just some family stuff,” Suga croaked. “With my dad. He’s… He’s in the hospital.”

            Oikawa blinked. A neutral look. “I’m sorry. Is he okay?”

            Suga’s head was spinning. What was he doing? Why didn’t he tell Oikawa? “He’s not in that kind of hospital. He’s in a psychiatric one. He’s- he’s got paranoid schizophrenia. He’s just been getting bad again.”

            “That must be hard,” Oikawa commented. He reclined on the sofa again, tossing his phone to the floor and tucking his hands behind his head. “I have an older sister who was in a psychiatric hospital. She was suicidal for a while. They aren’t really very happy places.”

            “No,” Suga said quietly.

            “But they can help. I mean, my sister’s got a kid now and she’s living a pretty good life,” Oikawa said. He tilted his head, looking at Suga. “But I guess paranoid schizophrenia is a little bit different than depression.”

            Suga didn’t say anything. The last time he’d seen his dad was over a year ago, a week after he had been checked into the hospital. Suga had hated the building, and he hated seeing his dad doped up on drugs. He hadn’t gone back since.

            Oikawa was still looking at Suga.

            “It’s been hitting you pretty hard, huh?”

            Suga looked up at him. His eyes were still felt puffy from crying earlier.

            Oikawa sighed, turning his face back towards the ceiling. “You look like shit.”

            “Thanks.” Bitter.  

            “Yeah, well, I’m not blind. When’s the last time you’ve slept?”

            Suga kept his mouth clamped shut.

            “So what happened?” Oikawa asked again.

            This was his chance. This was his chance. Oikawa was listening. Oikawa was curious. He was listening. He was listening. He was there.

            “Why do you care?”

            “Because I’m not the asshole I make myself out to be. I do have a heart, you know. And personally, I like you. Consider this our late night therapy session. What’s going on?” Oikawa asked. “Whatever you say in this lobby, stays in this lobby.”

            Suga couldn’t breathe. He was frozen in his spot, staring at the other boy. Sure, he could trust Oikawa. But how did he say it? How much did he say? What did he start with? Should he even be telling Oikawa this?

Oikawa didn’t need this kind of burden.

            Oh, god. Oh, god. He was going to throw up. The man was breathing down his neck.

            “Suga?” Oikawa sat up again, suddenly looking concerned. He reached down beside the sofa he was on and grabbed the small trash bin, passing it to Suga. He didn’t say anything else.

            Say it, say it, say it, say it.

            Just three words. Three words.

            Suga couldn’t get it out of his head. Suddenly he was back in the park, looking at the stars as the man sucked at his skin and shoved the dog toy inside of it. He was naked. He was naked and bleeding. For days afterwards, Suga could feel the toy pressing against his stomach. It felt like he had bruises inside of him. Any small movement tore his skin again, causing it to bleed. Suga didn’t think he was ever going to heal.

            Three words, Suga. Tell him. He’s listening. He’s there.

            “I was raped,” he breathed out, clutching the trash bin to his chest. He couldn’t meet Oikawa’s eyes. He couldn’t look up.

            “Wh- What?” Oikawa wasn’t expecting something like that. “When? By who?”

            “A month ago,” Suga whispered. “I don’t know who he is. But- but he knew my name, and he knew where I lived, and he knew I was dating Daichi. He had my number. He was texting me for a while, and no matter how many times I blocked his number he always got a new one. And then I smashed my phone.” Suga’s voice caught. Should he mention that the man was following him now? That he was always over his shoulder?

            Oikawa was silent, just looking at Suga with steady eyes, waiting for him to say more.

            “Does anybody else know?” Oikawa asked quietly.

            Suga shook his head.

            “He mailed it to me,” Suga said, voice cracking as he broke, crying.

            “Mailed it? What? Mailed what?”

            Suga cupped his face with his hands, trying to keep his crying quiet and his voice down. The others were sleeping just down the hall. “The toy. The dog toy. He fucked me with a dog toy, Oikawa. And then he mailed it to me.”

            The clocked flipped over midnight, and Oikawa sat silently, processing the information as Suga shook with silent crying on his chair. Around 12:30, Oikawa gently pulled the garbage bin from Suga, and then helped him to his feet. He quietly asked for permission to hug Suga before wrapping his lanky arms around him.

            And then Oikawa walked Suga back to Karasuno’s room. They didn’t exchange any other words when they parted. Suga thought he would feel so much better once he told someone, but he felt ten times worse as he slid into his bed.

〚 25 〛

            Suga got four hours of solid sleep. He didn’t fall asleep until 2am, anxiety crawling over his body like an army of ants. Then at 6am he jolted out of a nightmare, smothering heaving breaths. The man had crawled through the window on all fours, chittering like a spider. Suga couldn’t cry out when he began touching him, and his team all slept soundly on as he was raped a second time.

            For the remaining hour and a half, Suga stared at the phone in his hands, torn between texting his sister to pick him up and get him away. Every few minutes he would poke his head up over the bottom ledge of the window, pushing up the curtain and scanning the view. He still had yet to see any sign of the man.

            Then at 7:30am, Daichi’s alarm went off, rousing him and a few others from sleep. Suga was chewing on his fingernail anxiously when Daichi sat up blearily.

            “How long have you been up?” Daichi mumbled, voice gruff and sensual from sleep. He was scowling, squinting at Suga.

            “Since six, not very long,” Suga responded. He didn’t mention the fact that he hadn’t actually gone to bed until 2am. He tensed when Daichi leaned forward, pulling his head in and pressing a kiss to his pimply forehead.  

            From the mass of bodies and blankets, Tanaka gagged, pretending to vomit. “Too early to that shit, Daichi. Go take a shower and sort yourself out.”

            Daichi whipped a pillow at the second year’s head, but Suga caught his subtle glance to his crotch—checking for morning wood. Suga’s mouth twitched, humoured. He sat quietly as Daichi woke the rest of them up, poking them with his feet as he made his way to the light switch.

            “Breakfast is at eight,” Daichi said. He flickered the lights. “Wake up, you guys.”

            Was Oikawa going to say anything? Was he going to tell Daichi? Or Takeda?

            Suga’s stomach flipped nervously at the thought of leaving the room and risking running into Oikawa.

            “If you’re going to shower, go do it now while there’s still hot water,” Daichi said. Suga blinked tiredly, watching Noya hop his way over and then whip open the curtains, letting the already risen sun flood in brightly. Kageyama, directly in one of the rays, swore at Noya, pushing his pillow over his face.

            A few of the boys slunk out of the room, half asleep with towels wrapped around their necks. The rest started putting on some fresh clothes, yawning and digging through their bags for their toiletries.

            Daichi returned to Suga. “Not going to shower, I take it?”

            Suga shook his head, still hugging his blanket around his shoulders. He couldn’t believe he’d told Oikawa—of all people. He felt sick with regret and dread.

            “Do you want to get dressed and then come brush your teeth and freshen up before we head out for breakfast?” Daichi wondered. He had put on a pair of shorts and a loose red t-shirt. His white socks looked old and worn.

            Suga didn’t say anything in response. Just got to his feet, letting his blanket collapse to the ground, and then grabbed his whole bag, taking it to the washrooms just down the path. Daichi didn’t question him when he changed in one of the stalls.

            The bathrooms were noisy, the shouts and calls of the boys echoing off the cement walls. It was muggy and warm from the showers and Suga felt light-headed at the idea of all of the nudity. Just as he was packing away his toothbrush and toothpaste, he looked up in the mirror in time to see Oikawa stride through the door.

            Suga immediately looked down, but not before making direct eye contact through the mirror. He felt his chest tighten as he felt Oikawa’s presence glide by behind him. He heard the Seijoh captain poke his head through one of the shower curtains, sweetly saying, “Iwa-chan~!” and receiving an angry shout in return.  

            “Are you all done?” Daichi asked, tearing Suga’s mind away from Oikawa.

            “Yes,” Suga whispered, heaving his bag over his shoulder again and following Daichi out of the bathrooms. They passed by a few basketball players making their way towards the baths, and Suga felt like they loomed over him, grinning hungrily.

            Down the left side of the fork in the path was the dining hall—just a few yards from the main building. Students were filing into the dining hall, chatting away happily as the day commenced. A lot of the students Suga could identify, but some of them were new faces—either from a new volleyball team joining their training camp, or from the basketball training camp. The unknown faces made Suga anxious.

            But he hadn’t seen the man yet.

            Inside the dining hall was a clutter of activity. Each individual team was assigned a table, their school name taped to the end of a table. There was a dense line going around to the counter where people were dishing up their food. A few were already sitting down, chewing away.

            At the Karasuno table was Ennoshita, Noya, and Asahi, already eating. Kiyoko and Yachi were near the end of the line, conversing between themselves. Tanaka was with Yamaguchi and Kageyama near the middle. The others weren’t anywhere in sight.

            “Go put your bag down and I’ll get in line for us,” Daichi said. He gave Suga’s fingers a little squeeze and then pulled away, becoming a part of the breakfast queue. Suga sighed heavily and took his bag to the table, dropping it down and kicking it beneath one of the seats.

            Asahi asked how Suga was, witnessing his breakdown yesterday. Suga replied with a weak, toothless smile and a simple, “Fine” before going back to Daichi’s side. He couldn’t stop himself from scanning each individual face in the room as they slowly moved forward.

            The food looked daunting, steam rising from it. Daichi was heaping it onto his plate and Suga couldn’t bring himself to take anything, giving each thing a look and then passing by it. By the time he reached the end of the buffet he had two things on his plate: a tangerine and a small bowl of steamed vegetables.

            As they left the line, Suga glanced back at it. Oikawa was standing with his back to the tables, facing Kindaichi. Oikawa seemed to already have forgotten about Suga’s confession the night before. Maybe he thought it was simply a weird dream.

            “Well if it isn’t my second favourite setter!”

            Someone jolted into Suga, wrapping an arm around his throat playfully.

            He walked three steps when he felt an arm snake it’s way around his neck and pull him to the ground. He gave a surprised shout, but it was cut off as his back and head smashed into the ground.

            Suga stopped breathing.

            “Is that all you’re eating?” Nekoma’s captain asked, loosening his arm and letting it rest on Suga’s shoulders. “Come on, Sugawara, gotta get some meat on your bones! You need some protein!”

            Kuroo’s body was too close to Suga. He could feel him pressed against his back. Kuroo was tall and strong. The same height as the man, probably. Suga’s head spun. It felt like the man’s tongue was worming down his throat again, choking him, making him want to vomit.

            “I don’t feel very good,” Suga explained, twisting out of Kuroo’s hold. “If I feel better later I’ll eat some more.” He knew it was a lie. He looked at Daichi, who was giving Kuroo an unimpressed look. Suga slipped away, taking his seat at their table. Daichi stayed, saying something to Kuroo—who had his usual, provocative look in his eyes.

            Oikawa was watching Suga.

            The noise in the dining hall grew louder as the last few stragglers trickled in, getting their food and sitting down. The Karasuno team was all seated, Takeda and Ukai sitting at the end of the table, across from each other. Yachi was bubbling with excitement over something, her eyes shining. Yamaguchi looked scared of her overbearing excitement, but Hinata looked just as giddy.

            Daichi was talking with Asahi, and Suga zeroed in on their conversation.

            “…be rainy the next two days. Which wouldn’t be a problem, except for the fact that a lot of our cardio training is supposed to be outside. There won’t be enough gymnasiums free for us to use with these basketball jocks here,” Daichi said bitterly.

            Asahi laughed good-naturedly. “Maybe we could play some games with them? Basketball is good cardio.”

            “Absolutely not,” Daichi responded, looking personally offended at the mere suggestion. “And besides, I doubt they’d want us around anymore than we want to be around them.”

            Kinoshita piped in. “I like basketball.”

            “You don’t,” Daichi said firmly.

            Kinoshita gave their captain a look and commented, “Did you have a bad run in with basketball players as a child or something?”

            “Yeah, supposedly a basketball player hit him with the ball and he fell in a lake and nearly drowned,” Tanaka joked. He leaned over to Kinoshita and loudly whispered, “Daichi’s never learned how to swim. Sunk like a rock, the poor thing.”

            “That didn’t happen, Kinoshita. I can swim, I would just rather not,” Daichi snapped, glaring. “Basketball’s just a dumb game.”

            Suga silently peeled at his tangerine. Nothing had passed his lips yet, but nobody seemed to notice. His nose was still full of snot and shivers still shook his body every now and then. He low-key hoped his virus would turn into a full blown cold or flu or fever so he could lock himself up in their room instead of participating in anything.

            Bzz! Bzz!

            Suga jumped at the sudden vibration against his thigh. Instantly, his mind went to a text message from the man and his stomach plunged into straight fear. But then he remembered he had his mother’s phone, and the man didn’t know her number.

            At least, Suga prayed that he didn’t.

            Hiroko Sugawara Morning, sweetheart! Make sure you’re showering and eating and taking care of yourself please. I hope you have a good day and get some good practice in! – Love, mom.

            Suga stared at the text message displayed on his mom’s screen. Showering—not check. Eating—Suga looked at the broken, but uneaten slices of tangerine—not check. He grimaced and put the phone back in his pocket.

            “Who was that?” Daichi mumbled, cheeks full of rice.

            “My mom,” Suga answered quietly. “Just saying good morning.”

            Tanaka rested his chin in his hand and closed his eyes dreamily. “I love your mom. She’s the nicest person I know—aside from you, of course. And she makes the best muffins. Actually, the best everything. Remember that time she baked all of that stuff for the bake sale? God, I think I bought everything that was hers. I put on about five pounds. Sometimes I wonder how you’re not obese living with that wonderful woman, Suga.”

            Suga swallowed, hunching his shoulders. “I don’t put on weight well.”

            That felt like the first true thing to come out of Suga’s mouth for an entire month. And, it was true, Suga had always had a hard time putting on weight. His mom and older sister were the same. Suga had to work out to keep a decent weight, to keep his weight up. When he didn’t work out, no matter how much he ate and lazed, he would lose weight by the stone.

            Suga wondered what he weighed currently. He hadn’t been working out or eating much lately. He could almost imagine his next bi-annual physical, and the doctor telling him he needs to put weight on. That he’s getting unhealthily light again.

            It was never Suga’s fault. His mom understood that. She understood how much he hated weighing little more than a bird. Suga didn’t care about his weight anymore though. If losing weight was just a side effect of what had happened, Suga didn’t care.

            “You probably don’t put on weight well because you’re not eating,” Tanaka pointed out, gesturing towards his untouched food. Suga looked at him. Behind Tanaka’s elfish, mischievous looks, Suga saw a ripple of concern.

            Underneath the table, Daichi bumped his leg against Suga’s, reminding him ‘I’m here. You don’t have to pretend around me, or the team.’

            Suga wished Daichi realized that it wasn’t that simple. The two shared a look, and Suga suddenly wondered why he had been so scared of telling his boyfriend. It was embarrassing, but Daichi was worried. It was disgusting, but Daichi was level headed. It was scary, but Daichi wasn’t scared of anything.

            Suga looked over his shoulder at Seijoh’s table, scanning for their captain. The brunette was pushing at his food, head resting on a hand as he scowled at the table in front of him. Suga wondered if he was thinking about their conversation the night before. Suga had completely crumpled in front of him.

            He couldn’t do that to Daichi. He shouldn’t have done that to Oikawa either, but it was too late to take that back.

            “We’ve got one game this morning, and two this afternoon,” Daichi said, pulling Suga’s attention back to him. “Do you want to play one of the games this afternoon?”

            Again, the team was looking at him.

            “Oh, um…” Suga flicked his eyes towards Asahi, his stomach flipping. “I guess so. Do we know who we’re playing?”

            “Fukurodani this morning, but I don’t know who we’re playing after lunch. Ukai’ll know,” Daichi said. He looked at Suga’s breakfast. “But you should eat what you’ve got there, because we’re going to do some warmup stuff before anything.”

            Suga sniffed and cleared his throat of the building phlegm. There was anxiety tickling his stomach and fear wrapping around his chest. He slipped a shaking hand out from the sleeve of his sweater and searched for Daichi’s underneath the table. Daichi’s eyes snapped to Suga when he felt his boyfriend’s trembling fingers wrap around his.

            He had to tell him. He had to tell him.

            I was raped, Daichi. I was raped and I’m terrified.

〚 25 〛

            During the morning warmups, Suga was stiff and paralyzed with the anxiety and throbbing need to tell Daichi. During their match with Fukurodani, Suga sat on the bench, his hands shaking so badly he had to shove them between his thighs when Kiyoko gave him a worried look. During lunch, he felt like he was going to puke as the height of the day passed, meaning it was getting closer to night.

            Closer to when he planned on telling Daichi.

            During their free time, Suga was sitting by himself at a picnic table outside, in front of one of the outdoor basketball courts, only partially watching the game that was going on. He was so lost in his own head that he didn’t even hear Oikawa come up behind him until he plopped down on the bench as well.

            “Hey,” the Seijoh captain said, dropping a volleyball down on the table. “What’re you doing all the way over here by yourself?”

            Suga sighed, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Oikawa knew.

            “You like basketball?” Oikawa asked, turning his body and looking at the fenced in court.

            “Not really.”

            Oikawa turned back to the other setter, examining him. “Do you want to come play a game of beach volleyball with some of us? Some of the guys from other teams were talking about having a little practice match. Just for fun.”

            Suga shook his head. The sun was hot on his back, soaking into his sweater and warming his body. It was a nice day, too nice, and he could smell a storm coming. Suga noticed that Oikawa had his bangs pinned back with a purple clip. The other third year was definitely not as intimidating when he was out of his uniform.

            “What do you want to do?”

            Suga closed his eyes, feeling frayed again. “I just want to sit here, Oikawa. I don’t want to do anything.”

            “Well, alright then. I’ll sit here with you,” Oikawa shrugged. He laid down on the bench, disappearing from Suga’s line of sight, and started lightly setting his volleyball above his head. He continued talking. “I met Kuroo earlier, Nekoma’s head honcho. We played them. He’s kinda a dick, isn’t he? Really knows how to piss a person off. They played a good game though, their setter is pretty good…”

            Suga let Oikawa’s senseless chatter wash over him, letting it overcrowd the thoughts in his head. At one point the volleyball fell on Oikawa’s face, eliciting a squawk from him and jolting Suga awake from his partial sleep. Oikawa continued.

            Eventually Suga’s head ended up resting on his arms on the table, and he couldn’t hear Oikawa anymore.

            Suga didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep until Oikawa nudged him awake, saying, “Sugawara… Suga… We gotta go back. They’re going to wonder where we are.”

            Suga lifted his head, feeling groggy and sweaty. He was too hot. Was he getting a fever? He looked at Oikawa in front of him, one arm leaning on the volleyball. His heart skipped a beat and he straightened.

            “How long have we been out here? What time is it?”

            “Like, three. We’ve been out here for an hour and a half almost. C’mon, we should go back.” Oikawa paused. “You’ve got marks on your face from your sweater.”

            Suga touched his face. His cheeks were burning, definitely splotched with red. The two got up and starting back towards the gymnasiums. The sun had disappeared behind some clouds, but it was still suffocating out. The humidity felt like cotton in Suga’s throat.

            “You didn’t have to stay up there with me,” Suga said, looking at Oikawa.

            “I actually might have fallen asleep too. I didn’t sleep much last night either.”

            Suga’s grimaced. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped this on you.”

            “Nah, don’t worry about it. I mean, it’s good you told someone, even if that someone is me,” Oikawa looked over Suga. “If you need to talk or whatever, you can just find me, you know that, right?”

            “Suga-san~! Oh, we were looking all over for you!” Hinata shouted, running towards the two setters.

            “Was anyone looking for me?” Oikawa asked.

            Hinata twisted his mouth and then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Your team played without you.”

            “So mean! I hope they lost.”

            “They didn’t,” Hinata said. He turned back to Suga. “Where were you? Daichi-san was worried, so were Ukai and Takeda.”

            Suga scratched his collar bone. “I fell asleep up at the basketball courts. I’m sorry for worrying you guys. I didn’t realize how long I slept. Did I miss anything?”

            Oikawa parted from the two, going off in search of his own team. Suga watched him go and Hinata explained that, no, Suga didn’t miss much. They had played the new team and unfortunately lost, but probably because Daichi hadn’t played.

            Daichi was looking for Suga.

            Hiroko Sugawara Daichi texted me, said they can’t find you anywhere. Please text me back right away so I know you’re okay.

            Suga ignored his sister’s message. He walked with Hinata to the gym. When they entered, Yachi and Yamaguchi ran towards them, repeating the same things that Hinata had said. Kageyama was standing with Kenma and looked at Suga when they stepped through the doors. Suga avoided looking at him.

            Ukai wasn’t impressed, and Takeda was in full panic, trying to calm Ukai down as he told Suga off. Dateko and Johzenji were messing around on the court, listlessly rallying the ball back and forth.

            “Suga, are you listening to me?” Ukai snapped, his face twisted into dissatisfaction.

            If he just came out and told his coach what had happened, maybe Ukai wouldn’t be so hard on him. Maybe he would cut him some slack. Or maybe Ukai would blame it on Suga. Suga hated not knowing how people would react.

            “Are you feeling alright, Sugawara?” Takeda spoke, hushing Ukai. “You looked flushed. Have you been drinking enough water? It’s hot outside today. It’ll be no good if you get dehydrated and get heat stroke. Maybe you should sit down.”

            What if Suga told Takeda? No, he knew already that the teacher would blow it way out of proportion. He would want to get every authority involved and he would try to choke Suga. Suga could tell Takeda, but that didn’t mean he wanted to.

            “Suga!” Daichi’s voice called. He jogged over. “Where were you? I looked everywhere.”

            Suga was going to tell Daichi. He trusted Daichi. He wanted Daichi to know what had happened. He felt dirty keeping it a secret from him. Suga felt dirty all the time now, it seemed. He would tell Daichi. He would understand.

            A roll of thunder tumbled across the sky, dragging everyone’s attention to the opened doors. There was no rain, but Suga could see the storm that would be rolling in within the next few hours.

            Asahi and Kiyoko hopped into the gymnasium, eyes lighting up when they saw Suga.

            Suga couldn’t tell Asahi, he knew that already. And there was no way he would tell Kiyoko. Of course, she would probably find out eventually, same with Asahi, but Suga didn’t want it to be him they heard it from.

            “We play Johzenji in a little while. Do you want to play in that game?” Daichi asked.

            “Of course he’s playing,” Ukai said. “We gotta get him on the court eventually. I bet once he hits that ball he’ll be back to himself.”

            “Ukai-san, I don’t really know if that’s a good idea. He’s not looking too well,” Takeda said, eyebrows still pulled down in concern.

            “You do look a little pasty, Suga-kun,” Kiyoko confirmed. She frowned. “Maybe I should take you to see the nurse?”

            “He didn’t eat much during breakfast or lunch, he’s probably just hungry?” Asahi offered weakly.

            Everyone was staring at him. Suga didn’t know where to look, he felt trapped. They were crowding him; too close. Kageyama and Kenma were still watching from afar, and Suga felt like Kenma could see right through him. Suga didn’t need to tell anybody. They already knew. Everyone knew what had happened already, nobody cared though.

            “I’m fine,” Suga blurted. “I’ll play. I just… I need to change. I’ll be right back.”

            “I’ll come with you,” Daichi said, pinching the back of Suga’s sweater and tagging along as they left the gym.

            He could tell him now. Suga could tell Daichi now. They were alone.

            The dark clouds above their heads was spiking Suga’s anxiety. He didn’t like the electricity in the air. It felt like it was doing something to his head. Daichi’s hand was still holding onto the back of Suga’s sweatshirt.

            “Oikawa and I fell asleep at a picnic table by the outdoor basketball courts,” Suga said abruptly.

            “Oh? I didn’t really know you guys associated,” Daichi said, eyebrows jumping in surprise. “What were you two doing all the way over there?”

            “I… I don’t really know. I was sitting by myself, and Oikawa just kinda showed up. We just fell asleep?”

            Oikawa wanted to know if I was okay.

            They approached the dorm building, pushing through the door and going down the hall. It felt dark in the building, like it was almost nighttime. There was no sun outside anymore. The air was thick.

            Suga jumped, surprised to find somebody in their room. It was Tsukishima, laying on a mattress listening to music. He didn’t open his eyes when they entered, and Suga guessed he’d fallen asleep.

            “Are you sure you want to play?” Daichi wondered. “Takeda was right. You really don’t look very well. C’mere, let me feel your temperature.”

            Suga touched his face. He couldn’t feel anything. His fingers were numb. He stepped towards Daichi again, and his boyfriend pushed his knotted hair off his forehead, feeling the skin with the palm of his hand. Suga was clammy and suddenly he wanted Daichi’s hands off his skin.

            He pulled away.

            “You’re pretty warm,” Daichi said. “I’m worried you might have gotten heat stroke falling asleep in the sun with that sweater on. Do you feel nauseous at all? Stomach hurt? Tired? Headache?”

            Suga didn’t know what to respond with. He’d felt nauseous for month. His stomach had been hurting for a month straight. He’d been tired since that night. He constantly had a headache now.

            Suga needed to tell him.

            I let a stranger touch me. I let a man fuck me with a dog toy.

            It felt like a knife. I can still feel it. My insides feel shredded.

            I think I’m dying.

            “Suga? Hey, you should sit down before you fall,” Daichi said, reaching a hand out and steadying the silverette. Suga slowly slid to the floor, his legs folding beneath him. “There’s no way I’m letting you play.”

            I was raped.

            Daichi, I was raped by a man who is now stalking me.

            I – can’t – get – away.

            I’m terrified.

            “I need to tell you something,” Suga breathed, his heart thundering in his chest. It was almost as loud as the constant rumble outside in the sky. Suga could feel the storm deep within his ribcage. His vision was fuzzing.

            “Okay, okay, you can tell me anything,” Daichi blinked.

            I didn’t want to die, Daichi. I couldn’t fight back. All I could think about was that I was going to die.

            Suga swallowed. He was shaking.

            “Remember that night before my biochem test? When you told me to not stay up all night studying? And then I got… And then I didn’t show up for school the next day?” Suga said softly. He couldn’t meet Daichi’s eyes.

            Daichi’s hands on Suga’s biceps felt massive.

            “I remember,” he whispered.

            I didn’t make it home. Not right away.

            He caught me. He raped me. I don’t know who he is.

            “I cut through the park.” Suga’s throat closed off. His mind was tugging at his consciousness, bringing him back to that cherry blossom tree. Back to the moment it had happened. “I cut through the park, and… and there was a man who was looking for his dog. He had a leash and a dog biscuit.”

            “Okay.” Daichi’s voice was barely audible.

            Tears stung Suga’s eyes and he curled into himself, unable to breathe all of the sudden. He was hyperventilating.

            “He- he pulled me to the ground, Dai,” he hiccupped. “I thought I was going to die. I thought he was going to kill me.” Tears fell from his eyes. “He pulled my clothes off. And he was touching me.”

            Suga sobbed, and Daichi had frozen.

            “And then- and then he pulled out a- a dog toy. I couldn’t get away from him. He tied me up,” Suga couldn’t stop shaking. That night was rushing back to him vividly, churning his stomach. “And then fucked me with the dog toy. Daichi, I was so scared. I didn’t want to die. I couldn’t stop him. And he just… He just kept pushing it so far inside of me. It felt like it was in my stomach. I couldn’t breathe.”

            Suga pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to get rid of the image.

            “Then he- he leaned over and I was bleeding everywhere and he said how excited you would be with ‘how much I was able to take’,” he coughed, bile rising in his throat. “And he- he- he put himself inside of me. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want it. I didn’t want it. I’m so sorry, Daichi.”

            Daichi hugged Suga, pulling him to his chest closely and squeezing him tightly. “It’s not your fault. It isn’t your fault. You don’t have to apologize to me.”

            “He raped me, Daichi,” Suga cried, pain washing throughout his body. He couldn’t reign his crying in and he clung to Daichi like he was going to drown. “I wanted it to stop. I wanted him to stop, I promise.”

            “I know, I know, I know, I know, I believe you,” Daichi responded. There was a wetness in his voice, Suga could hear it. Daichi didn’t cry.  

            A broken cry slipped from Suga’s mouth. “He was texting me. He was texting me. I broke my phone to get away from him. He’s following me, Daichi. He climbed through my window. He’s been in my bed. He- he masturbated in my bed! And he’s been taking picture of me and leaving them in my room, and he put- he put a dildo in my room! Daichi, he won’t leave me alone! I’m so fucking scared everywhere I go, and I never know where he is. I’m scared he followed me here, and I’m putting everyone at risk. I’m so scared, I’m so scared all of the time.”

            Daichi was rocking them side to side, one hand cupping the back of Suga’s head. He was shaking, almost as badly as Suga.

            “You’re okay, you’re okay now. I’m not going to let him get to you,” Daichi said, trying to remain solid. “Shh, shhh, you’re okay. You’re safe here, I promise. There’s too many people here. I promise, you’re safe, he wouldn’t dare to try anything.”

            Suga had completely fallen apart. He was crying so loudly that Tsukishima had woken up and was looking at Daichi with sharp eyes.  

            “Don’t tell anyone, please, please, please, don’t tell the Ukai or Takeda,” Suga begged, coughing between sobs. “Please, Daichi, don’t tell them. They can’t know. They’ll tell my mom, and they’ll want to get the police involved. I don’t want to cause any trouble. Please, Daichi, please.”

            “Okay, okay,” Daichi said, flustered. “For this week only, though. Once we return home, we have to tell somebody. We can’t let this keep happening. None of this is okay, not what he did and- and what he’s doing. People are going to need to know before something worse happens.”

            Suga sobbed, unable to say anything else.

            “Tsukishima, can you just… Can you tell Ukai that Suga’s throwing up and we’re not going to be able to play in the game this evening?” Daichi asked the first-year.

            “Y-yeah, sure,” the blond said, clearly unsure of how to act. Tsukishima got to his feet and adjusted his glasses, leaving the room.

            Daichi pressed his lips to the side of Suga’s head, quietly hushing him, running his hand up and down his back. Rain began pelting down heavily, and the thunder was louder, almost right above their heads.

            “Suga, how long ago was this?” Daichi asked quietly.

            “A month,” Suga choked out. “I can’t get him out of my head. I can’t sleep at night. I’m scared to go to volleyball. I can’t eat because of him. I’m paranoid and terrified. I think I’m dying, Daichi. I think I’m dying.”

            Daichi sniffed. “You’re not dying, you’re not dying, babe. We’ll get you back on your feet. You can have a good dinner, and then you can have a hot shower tonight and we’ll go to bed. I’m sure Kiyoko or Yachi had sleeping pills, or some sort of drowsy medicine. Or someone on the other teams.” He closed his own eyes, engulfing Suga with his own body. “We’ll find something to help you sleep. I’m not going to let you out of my sight. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

⌜⋯⌟

            After telling Daichi what had happened, Suga, again, didn’t feel any better. He was suddenly terrified about seeing the rest of the team—terrified about seeing Tsukishima—and physically couldn’t bring himself to leave the room for dinner.

            It was storming still, the rain on and off, but the thunder and lightning constant. Members of the team came in and out of the room every now and then, doing their own thing. Suga stayed in his bed, pretending to be sick and asleep, when in reality he was dizzy with the anxiety steadily thrumming through his bones.

            Daichi returned from dinner with a container of food for Suga, and some Ambien.

           “From Yamaguchi,” Daichi had said, handing Suga the little pill and a glass of water.

            Suga took the pill before it was even nine o’clock. He didn’t shower. He didn’t eat the food. He just swallowed back the drug and slid into his bed, feeling too wired for the pill to do its work.

           Daichi asked if he could sleep with him.

           It took Suga fifteen seconds of contemplation before very quietly giving Daichi permission. And then his boyfriend slid one arm beneath Suga’s head and cradled himself around his body, hugging him firmly.

           When the rest of the team returned, ready for bed as well, nobody teased Daichi and Suga. Nobody mentioned it. They did their best to be quiet as they got their beds rolled out and changed.

           Nobody believed Tsukishima when he told Ukai that Suga was ill and Daichi was staying with him. The team knew something was wrong, but no one dared ask.

           And Suga quietly cried until the Ambien kicked in and knocked him out.

〚 26 〛

            Suga hadn’t had a single solid sleep since the night of the incident. Even with the raging storm outside, Suga was dead to the world the entire night, not waking once. When Daichi’s alarm went off at 7:30am, Suga would have continued sleeping if Daichi hadn’t shook him awake.

            It was wet outside, still lightly drizzling. The team was observant; even Kageyama didn’t have to be a genius to know that he wasn’t supposed to cause any trouble that day. The team could see how fragile their senior setter was. Nishinoya and Tanaka kept their voices down; Kageyama and Tsukishima kept their bickering to the minimum, and so forth.

            In the washrooms, Suga nearly vomited at the fear that was coursing through his veins as Daichi coerced him into the shower. His hands shook as he peeled his clothes off behind the curtain and handed them to Daichi to put on the bench.

            “Dai?” Suga called, his voice thin as it cut through the noisy bathroom environment.

            “Yeah?”

            Suga was terrified to let go of the edges of the curtain. “Can you make sure no one… No one comes to my shower?”

            Suga’s own nudity was beginning to make him uncomfortable. He tried not to think about the feeling of the blood and semen running from his ass that night. He tried not to think about the hickeys that had been between his legs.

He felt sick.

            “They’ll have to get through me first,” Daichi assured.

            Suga showered quickly, feeling on edge. He kept expecting someone to burst into his shower. He kept expecting the man to slip in and push him against the tiled wall. When Suga shut off the water, Daichi handed him a towel and his clothes one piece at a time.

            In the mirror, as he brushed his teeth, Suga examined the acne. He spotted one new pimple near his jaw. Somehow, his bags were bigger than before despite sleeping for once. Daichi caught him touching his face and pulled his hands away.

Suga was always touching his face now, always trying to hide behind his hands.

            “This is why you’re breaking out,” Daichi said softly, still holding Suga’s hands.

            “I know,” Suga whispered. “I can’t stop. I’m scared.”

            Behind them, Kuroo slipped on a puddle of water, landing roughly on his back. Bokuto howled with laughter. Akaashi sighed tiredly and stepped around Kuroo’s sprawled form, Kenma following him. Neither had concern for the fallen captain. Lev’s voice was bouncing off the walls.

            In the dining hall, Suga had no choice of what he was eating. Daichi told Suga what to put on his plate—which was just about everything that was being offered. They sat down and Suga stared blankly at his plate.

            Takeda came up behind him, putting a hand on his back and asking, “How are you feeling today? I could ask the grounds nurse if they have any medicine if you need. Make sure you’re drinking lots, alright? We’ll probably take it easy today because of the rain.”

            The words slipped right through Suga’s mind. He was more focused on the fluff that was on Takeda’s head. He looked like a Q-Tip. Suga thought it was humorous that his teacher’s hair was prone to expanding from the moisture in the air. He wondered if Oikawa would have a bad hair day today, and what he would do about it.

            “Sensei,” Ukai’s voice called, tearing Takeda’s attention away.

Suga turned towards his food again. There was a weight on his shoulders, threatening to crush him. He wanted to go back to bed. It dark outside still, the clouds so thick and black it felt like it was early, early morning.

            Daichi saw his boyfriend’s hesitation and quietly said, “You don’t need to eat it all if you can’t. Just try to get something down, yeah? You’ve barely eaten the two days we’ve been here. Just take it slow.”

            “I’ve barely eaten for a month, Daichi,” Suga snapped, irritation bristling him. He clenched his jaw and glared holes into his food, cheeks heating up at the other’s stares. He picked up the chopsticks and situated them in his unsteady fingers. Tsukishima was eyeing him.

            Tsukishima knew. He had heard everything.

            How had three people in the span of two days found out? Sure, he’d purposely told Oikawa, but he hadn’t planned to. And he hadn’t planned on telling Daichi, not now anyways. And he definitely didn’t mean for Tsukishima to find out.

            Suga felt sick. He felt sick, he felt scared, he felt dizzy, he felt like he was dying. He didn’t even know if he was against the idea of death anymore. He wasn’t. Suga wanted to die.

            He wanted to get out.

            With every passing day, he was getting more and more irritated and he was starting to let it show. The team wasn’t oblivious, and they all knew that something was very clearly wrong. How much longer could Suga go before he burst? How much longer could he go before he vomited the story all of the team in a moment of impatience and frustration?

            “Suga-senpai, after breakfast, can you help me with receives again?” Hinata asked timidly, hoping to lighten the situation and atmosphere that was suffocating the Karasuno table.

            “Sure, Hinata,” Suga responded wearily.

            It felt too real all of the sudden. People like him didn’t get raped. People like him didn’t have stalkers. Suga had been raped was now being stalked. What if the man’s next move was going to be kidnapping him? Or killing him? This kind of thing wasn’t real. It was just… It just wasn’t real.

            Suga ate a quarter of his food before pushing it away and pressing his face into his hands, squishing his fingers into his closed eyes. He was so fucking tired. Around him, the chatter of the dining hall dimmed into muted background noise, accentuating the sharp, constant buzz in his head.

            He wanted to cut himself.

            He wanted to burn himself.

            He wanted to force himself to throw up.

            He wanted to get high.

            He wanted to smoke until he was vomiting.

            He wanted to tie a noose around his neck and let his body fall.

            Anything to distract him. Anything to take his mind off of the stuttering, replaying tape of that night. The jarring screech as the record rewound itself, only to play from the beginning. He needed a distraction from the growing list of things he could have done differently that night. Things he could be doing differently now.

            Suga wanted a distraction and he wanted it to hurt. He wanted to self destruct. He was fucking filthy and he needed to punish himself.

            It was all his fault it had happened.

            “—gwara-san? Do you feel okay?”

            Suga lifted his head from his hands, eyes blurry as he looked at Ennoshita. “I’m fine. Just tired, is all. Don’t worry about me.” He smiled painfully, blinking to clear his sight. He couldn’t believe himself. He was still lying through his teeth when Daichi and Tsukishima knew and the team was so grossly aware that he wasn’t ‘fine’.

            Suga’s chest tightened and his irritation faded away. The constant pain inside of him returned steadily and harshly.

            “Hinata, are you ready to go practice some receives?” Suga asked, pushing his chair back and standing.

            The bright haired first year blinked and popped onto his feet as well. “Y-Yeah! Yeah, I’m just going to run to the washroom quick. I’ll meet you in the gym.”

            Suga left the dining hall without another word.

⌜⋯⌟

            The rain had returned. It remained steady throughout the day, enclosing everyone inside a building—whether that be a gymnasium, the dining hall, or in the housing building. Suga played in a game that afternoon—on Ukai’s insistence. He’d been a mess. Only half of his serves made their mark, he couldn’t get his body to react fast enough to receive anything, and by the end of the first set—which they had lost—he was out of breath and dizzy.

            Ukai pulled him out the moment Suga lost his balance by simply standing on the court—screeching a knee on the floor as he collapsed. Takeda and Kiyoko took him to the grounds nurse, who immediately had him lay down so he was off his feet and not at risk of hurting himself further.

            She gave him an energy drink, telling him it would bring up his electrolytes. Takeda’s eyebrows were pulled together in concern as he tore at a fingernail with his teeth.

            “Sugawara, is there something I should know about? If your health isn’t what it should be, I need to know before I put you further at risk by having you play,” the teacher said. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been eating—and that you’ve lost weight. Are you having problems eating? Like- like- like anorexia or bulimia? I promise, you can come to me with anything. I’m just really worried for you.”

            Suga sipped on the electric blue drink. “I don’t have an eating disorder, sensei.” But did he?

            Kiyoko was looking at him with watery eyes, silently begging him to tell the truth. To let them know what was going on with him.

            “Do you know approximately what your weight is currently? Sometimes people aren’t even aware that they’ve been losing weight, there could be no change in your diet. But if your weight isn’t where it should be, that could be one of the issues,” the nurse said. “Not the source of the problem, but an effect.”

            The source of the problem was that Suga had been raped. He was a whore. The thought of it was almost funny now.

            “I don’t know what my weight is,” Suga said, laughing bitterly. “I’m not anorexic. My weight is fine. That’s not the problem.”

            “Do you mind if we weigh you quick?” the nurse asked, placing a hand on Suga’s shoulder.

            Weigh him?

            “Sure,” Suga responded, trying to pretend that the situation was FINE.

            Click. Creak. ClickClickClick.

            124 lbs.

            Nearly twenty pounds less than last he’d known. Suga stepped off the scale forcing a weak shrug and said, “I don’t put weight on well.”

            Kiyoko had her fingernails in her mouth, her eyes glossy as she looked at Suga. Takeda quietly told her to return back to the gymnasium. Once she was gone, Takeda turned to Suga and said, “The last number I remember in my books for you is one hundred forty-three pounds, Sugawara. That wasn’t that long ago. Does your mother know about how much you’ve lost?”

            Suga shook his head.

            “I’ll leave you two for a bit,” the nurse said, excusing herself quietly and shutting the door.

            “Please, be honest, Sugawara, have you been purposely not eating? Or purposely been throwing up your meals?”

            “No,” Suga said. “No. I just… It’s just because I haven’t been to practice. I really don’t put weight on easily. I probably just lost so much because I haven’t been working out. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me… About me having an eating disorder.”

            “It’s only been one month. It just doesn’t seem possible to me that you’ve lost twenty pounds in one month just from simply not exercising,” Takeda said. “Yes or no; have you been eating?”

            Suga picked up his drink again, sighing out his nose before taking a sip. “No,” he responded quietly. “But not consciously, and not because I wanted to lose weight. I’ve just… Not been eating.”

            Takeda’s eyes fluttered shut. “Alright, thank you for being honest with me. But for the rest of the time, I can’t allow you to do any sort of intense training and Ukai and I will be making sure you’re eating. And, I’m going to have to phone your mother and let her know about this as well, you know that right? If your health and safety weren’t a factor here, everything would stay confidential.”

            “Yeah,” Suga whispered.

            Oikawa, Daichi, and Tsukishima knew that he’d been raped.

            Kiyoko knew that his weight was dipping threateningly again.

            And Takeda knew that he wasn’t eating.

            Coming to the training camp had been a mistake.

⌜⋯⌟

            It was late, yet again. Oikawa and Suga were on the sofa in the lobby, Oikawa laying on his back and Suga curled up on the end of the couch, the brunette’s feet shoved beneath him. They’d been sitting in silence for nearly fifteen minutes, Oikawa simply waiting for Suga to talk.

            Outside it was quiet, the rain and thunder had finally stopped. Suga hadn’t been able to sleep, still picking apart the events of the day. His heart felt like it had been injected with caffeine and he couldn’t seem to calm it down. He couldn’t relax. The anxiety was thrumming throughout him.

            Daichi had fallen asleep easily, his hand clutching Suga’s. Suga had felt sick though. He felt nauseous and sweaty, on the verge of a panic attack and he knew he had to get out of Karasuno’s peaceful room before he destroyed it.

            Oikawa nudged Suga’s thigh with a toe, encouraging him to talk.

            “I’m just… I think…” Suga’s throat tightened at the abruptness of his words. “I don’t know. I’m just scared. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore, I guess? I’m fucking scared. I’m terrified. And… I… I want to die. I hadn’t wanted to die, not- not when it was happening. When… When it happened I was scared that I wasn’t going to make it out alive, but now… Now I wish I hadn’t. I’m so tired and anxious all the time. And- And- And I want to kill myself. I want to kill myself, Oikawa. But I know that I shouldn’t and I don’t really want to die, but I’m just so fucking tired. I want it to stop.”

            “It’ll going to get better,” Oikawa said, his voice rough and syrupy. “You need to just figure out how to get out of your head. It’s a shit place in there right now.” Oikawa simply shrugged off the confession—the confession that Suga wanted to kill himself. His face remained placid.

            Suga hugged himself tightly. “I can’t just get out of my head, Oikawa. He’s- He’s stalking me.” Oikawa didn’t know that, but now he did. “He’s following me everywhere, Tooru. He broke into my room, and he mast- masturbated in my bed, and he’s been taking photos of me. I can’t get out of my head because he’s always there.”

            But the man hadn’t shown up yet. He hadn’t followed Suga to the training camp.

            Suga was terrified to go home.

            This confession made Oikawa sit upright.

            “What the…? Suga, you need to tell someone. Like, someone who can actually do something,” he said. “If he’s stalking you, that’s taking it to a whole new level. What if something worse happens?”

            Tears swelled in Suga’s eyes. He shouldn’t have told him. He pressed his ever-shaking hands to his cheeks. He wanted to stop crying so much and all the time. He wanted his constant shaking to go away. He wanted to go back to before. Before that night. He wanted to go back in time, to when he was happy.

            He hated this constant FEELING OF FEAR.

            Oikawa sidled up next to Suga, pressing their shoulders together, and then wrapped his arms around him tightly. Suga sniffled and pushed down the growing desire for a complete and utter breakdown. It was looming on him. Tears were rushing down his face all of the sudden. Oikawa’s body was warm and sturdy compared to Suga’s.

            “I don’t even know what happened, Oikawa. I don’t know. I’m falling apart. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat—I’ve lost twenty pounds this month alone. I can’t be happy anymore. I want it all to stop but I can’t do that, I can’t do it. Unless I kill myself. Everything is too much. It’s too much. I can’t do it anymore.” He was choking.

            “I know, I know,” Oikawa muttered, tightening his hug. “We’ll do something. We’ll get you back to your old self. We’ll tell… We’ll tell your club supervisor—what’s his name? If you trust him, we’ll tell him.”

            Suga was s u f f o c a t i n g. He was clinging to Oikawa’s shirt. The thought of telling Takeda made him dizzy and it wrenched a sob from his throat. Oikawa wiped the flood of tears on Suga’s face. He was practically paralyzed with the fear of telling Takeda.

            SUGA DIDN’T WANT TO DIE.

            “Now, now,” Suga staggered through breaths. “We have to tell- tell him no- ow. I don’t want to die, Oikawa. I don’t want him to kill me. I’m so fucking scared. I’m so scared.”

            And then that complete and utter breakdown engulfed him.

            Oikawa helped him to his feet and then guided him down the hall opposite of the team’s dorm rooms—down the coaches and manager’s hall. He scanned the doors for a slide in plaque that read KARASUNO.

            Suga was choking back bone crunching sobs, both his hands pressed fiercely over his mouth and nose. Oikawa whispered something to him as he approached the door. He lifted a hand and knocked quickly.

            Coach Ukai opened the door, hair hanging down and his eyes bleary.

            And then a sob burst from behind Suga’s hand and Ukai’s eyes flew open and he fully processed the two teens in front of him.

            “S- Sugawara? Whoa, hey, what’s going on?” he gently grabbed Suga’s elbow and guided him into the room, flicking on the light switch to reveal an unconscious Takeda, his entire body hidden beneath blankets except for a black tuft of hair poking out.

            Ukai closed the door after the two teens entered the room.

            “Tetsu, wake up,” Ukai said, his voice hoarse from sleep. Ukai sat Suga’s crumpled form on the edge of the bed and then ripped the blankets off of the teacher. Ukai then got down to a knee in front of Suga’s hunched body and asked again, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

            Suga sobbed and Takeda shot up, immediately lunging for his glasses.

            “Oi-Oikawa?” he said, seeing Seijoh’s captain first. “Oh, my god! Sugawara, Ukai, what’s wrong?”

            “I don’t know,” Ukai responded irritably. “Suga, you need to breathe. Try to stop thinking for a minute and focus on catching a breath. Oikawa, do you know what’s wrong? Do you know what happened?”

            “Yeah, but… But he should probably tell you himself.”

            Suga shook his head harshly. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

            Takeda stroked Suga’s hair, tucking his behind his ears and out of his face.

            “Oikawa,” Ukai said. “What happened?”

            The cries coming from Suga’s mouth were jolting, and Oikawa felt a sudden shock at how real the situation really was. How serious it was. That something like that had actually happened—was happening to someone he knew.

            “Oikawa!” Ukai snapped, standing up. Takeda continued trying to calm Suga down. “What the hell happened?”

            Oikawa blinked, swallowed, and then began repeating the words that Suga had told him over the past few nights.  

〚 27 〛

            Suga’s mom was told everything that Oikawa (and Suga—when he could speak through his sobs) had told Takeda and Ukai the night before. The two hovered him the next day, finally understanding why Suga had been acting how he had been the previous month.

            It made sense.

            And Suga tried to stay calm and collected, but he had the icing fear that the man knew, and was aware that he’d told someone who could actually take action. The man was going to target him more.

            He was too anxious to speak the entire day, scared to open his mouth any more than he already had. His movements were stiff, and he was terrified of being out in the open, for fear that the man was there, waiting to grab him.

            Daichi was constantly pulling his hands away from his face.

            Kiyoko watched him like a hawk during meals.

            But Suga couldn’t eat and he’d completely given up on masking it from all of his teammates—and the other teams at the camp, for that matter. Bokuto had walked in on him having a panic attack in the bath house, and he didn’t know what to do so he called Akaashi. Akaashi then texted Daichi and then all three of them were there to witness Suga’s minor breakdown.

            Finally, to end the day off, Suga couldn’t sleep a wink. When he went to the lobby, it was empty, Oikawa not around.

            A few minutes later, Yamaguchi came into the lobby, saying he couldn’t sleep either. After that, no more words were exchanged.

〚 28 〛

            When the sun rose, Suga was still wide awake, too wired to relax, but too scared to do something to exhaust himself. Yamaguchi had fallen asleep around 3am and was still on the large chair, drooling. A little bit after sunrise, Tsukishima came out searching for the freckled boy and found Suga as well.

            He went to get Takeda after waking up Yamaguchi, concerned at the blankness of the third year. When Takeda arrived, Suga was still paralyzed and made no acknowledgement of the club supervisor when he sat down beside him.

            It wasn’t long before the other boys began filtering through on their way out to the washrooms and for breakfast. Daichi was sent off by Takeda and once the housing building was silent, Suga splurged his thoughts to Takeda. He cried until his throat was hoarse. He missed breakfast.  

            Once Suga had worn himself out, Takeda gently ordered him to shower and get dressed and then come find Daichi and the rest of the team in gymnasium two.

⌜⋯⌟

            “Everything is still too muddy for us to do our cardio outside, so we’ll be doing some of it inside with the basketball training camp that is here,” Ukai said, hands planted on his hips. He glanced over at Takeda, who was anxiously biting a nail. “And you don’t have any other option, so put on some game faces and remember that in basketball, the ball is supposed to touch the ground.”

            Hinata mentioned something about unfair height advantages, Nishinoya rallying behind him.

            At the doors, Suga scratched subconsciously at his wrist, digging his nails in until a stinging remained. He felt naked. Too many people knew too many things and it made his head swim. His mom knew. Of course, now everything would only get worse. People would treat him differently. People already were—

            Daichi grabbed Suga’s hand, jolting him out of his head. “I would rather rub wasabi in my eyeballs instead of play basketball, so why don’t we just slip out of here really quick and find you some breakfast? You’re not allowed to do cardio right now anyways.”

            They exited the gym, walking hand in hand down the wet path leading up the hill to the dorms. Everything was quiet and empty, everyone else training down at the gyms. The walk to the dorms twisted Suga’s stomach into knots.

            He snuck at look at Daichi as they pushed open Karasuno’s room door. Daichi looked tired, exhausted, as if there was a weight pushing down on his shoulders.

            Suga’s weight.

            His fingers slid from his boyfriend’s and he stood, a thin form, in the doorway with his eyes lowered. “I’m sorry, Daichi,” he said quietly.

            Daichi looked at him, his chocolate eyes sweeping over his face softly. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Don’t apologize to anybody for that. You are not at fault here.”

            Suga clenched his fists and scowled at his feet. He wanted to cry.

            “I know. I know. But I’m sorry for- for telling you and dumping all of this on you. This was supposed to be fun for you. It’s our last training camp and I ruined it for everyone. You haven’t been sleeping because I told you. I’m being whiny. I’m sorry.”

            “Suga, you are not being whiny and you don’t have to apologize to me about anything. No matter what you do or say is going to make me regret sticking with you, because what happened is absolutely horrible and it’s traumatic. You telling me has changed nothing between us. I just want you to be okay again.” Daichi cupped Suga’s face gently. His hands were shaking against his spotty cheeks.

            Tears trickled from Suga’s eyes as he reached up and wrapped his fingers around Daichi’s wrists, chest tightening at Daichi’s quivering hands. Daichi was supposed to be as solid as a rock. Daichi didn’t shake.  

            He tapped his forehead to Suga’s and whispered in a pained voice, “Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry, Kou. You’ve don’t nothing wrong here. Don’t regret telling us. You’re going to be okay.”

            How could he be o k a y? How could he ever be OK?

            “How can you still- still even touch me? It’s disgusting. I’m disgusting,” Suga gasped, voice shattered.

            “What happened changes nothing, I promise,” Daichi repeated. “What- what he did was awful and him and his actions are disgusting. You are not. It might sound absolutely crazy to you right now, but I don’t love you any less than I did before. You’re still my Suga.”

            A weak sob choked the silver haired setter.

            Daichi swallowed thickly and asked slowly, “Can I kiss you?”

            And Suga nodded.

            Daichi tilted his face up and softly pressed their lips together. His hands stayed on Suga’s cheeks, and Suga’s own moved to Daichi’s shoulders. Both of them were shaking. Suga could taste his own tears on his lips, mingling with Daichi’s saliva.

            For a few seconds, Suga felt elevated at Daichi’s familiar muscles beneath his hands.

            And then his gut pulled viciously and suddenly he wasn’t kissing Daichi anymore. He had the man’s tongue down his throat again, licking at his teeth and making him gag.

            His eyes flew open and he jolted abruptly, snapping away.

            “It’s me, it’s just me,” Daichi whispered. He brushed Suga’s hair back. “I’m not going to hurt you. We can stop. It’s okay. We can stop if you want to.”

            But Suga didn’t want to. He wanted to KISS DAICHI, and he wanted to LET DAICHI TOUCH HIM. Suga DIDN’T WANT TO BE SCARED.

            He pushed forward, finding Daichi’s lips again. His familiar scent flooded his nostrils for the first time since that night—cinnamon and pine. Daichi smelled of Christmas and warmth.

            Suga wrapped his arms around Daichi’s neck, clinging to him. He didn’t want to lose that smell again. Ever since that night, all he could smell was sex and wet dog; blood; the overpowering aroma of his own nauseating fear.

            Daichi’s hands slid down Suga’s shoulders, encircling his waist. The python that usually liked to squeeze him was absent.

            “Let’s sit down,” Daichi breathed, peppering Suga’s splotchy cheeks with kisses.

            Daichi carefully pulled them down onto one of the mattresses. His hands were gentle, his movement were slow, and he pulled away from the kiss, looking at Suga to make sure he was all right. Suga was straddling Daichi, sitting in his lap. His heart was thundering in his chest like a herd of wild horses.

            “You can stop me at anytime,” Daichi said in a low voice.

            Suga nodded, blinking rapidly, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. He could still feel Daichi’s lips against his own and suddenly, it felt like he was being pulled away again, his moment of contentedness shifting and finalizing with a sharp crack!

            “I-ˮ Suga bit down on his lip. “I wanted it to be with you.” His chest hurt. “I don’t want to stop you, Daichi. I wanted him to stop, and- and- and because he didn’t, you have to.” He mentally kicked himself for the tears that were forming again. “It hurts, Daichi. It hurts so much.”

            Daichi brushed his hair back and kissed the edge of Suga’s trembling mouth, kissed his flushed cheek, and then pressed his lips to his forehead. “I don’t care if we have to stop. I’d never force you into anything. You have every right to be scared, to be worried, to be anxious, but you don’t have to feel like that around me. You never have to be worried when you’re with me, I promise. I would never hurt you.”

            Suga nodded and clutched his arms around Daichi’s neck, burying his face into his shoulder. Daichi stroked reassuringly up and down his back, smoothing out all of his trembling.

            They stayed like that for fifteen minutes, Suga sitting in Daichi’s lap, clinging onto him while Daichi spoke without import, filling the silence. After some time, Asahi came into the room with food for Suga. He quietly sat down in front of them.

            “Takeda wanted… He wanted me to bring you something to eat,” he said, gesturing to bowl of homemade trail mix. “Kiyoko threw it together for you. Just a little something because you missed breakfast.” He lowered his eyes, quietly asking, “How are you doing?”

            Suga picked up the bowl of trail mix and sifted through it with a finger, throat tightening at the question. “Um, not- not great.”

            “Daichi told me what happened,” Asahi said. His voice was unsteady. “Um, it- uh- this doesn’t change anything. You’re still the same to me. And everyone else, too. They don’t really know yet, but I’m positive that nothing would change.”

            “Thanks,” Suga whispered. He crunched his teeth down on an almond and slowly slid off Daichi’s lap. “But I’m really not the same. It’s kind of obvious that I’m a fucking mess.”

            Daichi and Asahi shared a look.

            “Temporarily,” Daichi said. “You’ll come back.”

            Asahi scratched his beard and said, “It’s not really the same thing, but… I guess it’s similar to when I dropped out of volleyball after our match with Date Tech. I was a mess for a little while maybe, but I’m back to my old self now.” He shrugged, lifting his own anxious eyes and meeting Suga’s, offering a smile.

            Suga looked at his long-haired friend and gave a weak smile in return. He didn’t believe Asahi that he would go back to how he was. How was anyone supposed to return to their normal life after being raped.

            Daichi picked a chocolate chip out of the trail mix and then bumped Suga lightly with his shoulder, saying, “Finish this food up and then we can go watch the volleyball team play basketball. I hate to say it, but my bets are on the basketball players.”

〚 30 〛

            Finally, they were returning home.

            Oikawa made sure that Suga had his number—in the case he ever got a new phone and wanted to talk.

            Suga just stared at the slip of paper with the numbers. He trusted Oikawa, he was the first person he had told, but it made his head fuzz dizzyingly when he thought about talking to anyone about it ever again.

            “You’re going to be okay,” Oikawa said, stretching his legs out and leaning back on the grass. He tucked his hands behind his head and looked up at the blue sky.

            Suga swallowed and kept his eyes on the rest of his team, saying their goodbyes and packing their bags into the bus.

            “What if I’m not?” he asked quietly. Daichi glanced over at him and Oikawa from where he was talking with Kuroo and Iwaizumi. Daichi smiled, and Suga gave a tiny wave back.

            “Nah, you’ll be fine. I know you well enough to say that with confidence,” Oikawa repeated. “Just stay safe, okay? This whole thing is scary; this guy following you and everything. Don’t make stupid decisions. Until he’s behind bars, don’t go out by yourself.”

            “He was in my room. He can get into my house whenever he wants.”

            Suga resisted the urge to grab his face as the fear and anxiety trickled down his throat. He couldn’t go home. Oikawa sat up and looked at the grey-haired setter, watching his shaking fingers dig grass instead of his soft cheeks. Oikawa said nothing as the waves of fear swept over Suga, stealing his breath and the colour in his cheeks.

            “I don’t want him to kill me,” Suga breathed.

            “He not going to get a chance to even put a finger on you again,” whispered Oikawa. “No one is going to let that happen. Not Daichi, Ukai, Takeda, your mom, hell, even Tsukishima won’t let anything happen. You have to trust them. They want you to be safe and okay again.”

            Suga looked at him. “But I’m scared. You- You don’t know what it was like. I thought I was going to- to- I thought I was going to die, Oikawa.”

            “But you didn’t. You’re alive and thriving and people are going to do everything they can to get you back on your feet. Next time we see each other, I want to see you smile. An honest, genuine, Suga-style smile. All scrunched eyes and whatnot.”

            “What if I can’t?”

            Oikawa shrugged. “We’ll work at it. Come on, it looks like your guys are getting on the bus.” He helped Suga to his feet and the two walked towards where Daichi and Iwaizumi were waiting. Kuroo had already left it seemed.

            “You okay?” Daichi asked, giving one of Suga’s trembling hands a squeeze.

            Suga nodded, but his face remained pale.

            “Let’s get going. Takeda has your lunch packed up and he wants it to be gone by the time we get home.” Daichi looked at the two Seijoh players and said, “We’ll see you guys later, then.”

            Iwaizumi and Oikawa raised their hands in a goodbye as the two got onto the bus. As it pulled away, Iwaizumi turned to his counterpart and demanded, “What the hell? Is he okay?”

            Oikawa gave him a sideways look and replied, “Far from it, actually. I’ll tell you on the way home.”

            ⌜⋯⌟

            “Daichi, can I- can I go to yours for a while? I don’t really want to see my mom right now,” Suga said, twisting his fingers. His heart was in his throat, his stomach was at his feet, and his hands were gone.

He didn’t like this numbing anxiety.

            “Yeah, sure. Just let your mom know you’re with me,” Daichi said.

            Suga nodded and pulled out his borrowed phone, texting Hiroko with his whereabouts. He knew his mom would be worried; he couldn’t imagine how sick with worry she had been when she first heard about what had happened from Takeda.

            How the hell was he supposed to ever go back home when she knew that he’d been raped?

            Daichi and Suga started walking away from the school, not unlike the day it had happened. It was sunset, not dark, but similar to that night. Suga never wanted to take the shortcut through the park again. He didn’t even want to go to the park anymore.  

            They passed the corner where they would normally split their ways, and Suga trailed after Daichi. He found his boyfriend’s hand and held on tightly, silencing his nausea. Daichi tugged him forward, clutching him to his side. Suga cast his eyes down, feeling Daichi’s own gaze on him.

            “Your mom won’t smother you, you know that. She’s worried for you. Everyone is. Don’t be scared to go home,” he said.

            “I know,” Suga whispered. “I’m scared of my house though. He can get in. I don’t want to be there. They shouldn’t even be there. We need to move.”

            Ting!

            Hiroko Please don’t be scared to come home. There’s a patrol car running through the neighbourhood regularly. You’ll be safe. Mom’s talked with the police. The house has constant watch on it until this guy is caught.

            They approached the Sawamura household.

            “I’m home!” Daichi called as he pushed open the door of his house. “Suga’s with me as well.”

            “Hi, sweetheart; Sugawara! How was it? Did you guys have fun? I have some left overs from dinner here if you’re hungry,” Mrs. Sawamura called.

            Suga slid his feet into a pair of slippers and followed Daichi into the house. His mom was in the laundry room, folding clothes. Her face broke into a smile when she saw Suga.

            “I haven’t seen you in ages,” she said. Her eyes glimmered, but there was something behind the sparkle. Concern; worry. “Your mom called here the other day. Feel free to stay here if you don’t feel safe at home right now. And if you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.”

            Of course Mrs. Sawamura knew. He could imagine his mom’s hysteria after finding out. The two women were close friends. It was only to be expected that Daichi’s mom knew as well.

            “Thanks,” Suga croaked.

Daichi grabbed him gently and said, “We’ll be in my room.”

            “Door open, please,” his mom called after them.

It was something she always said when Suga was over. He used to find it funny. He would tease Daichi, see how far he could get before Daichi nearly burst a vein, expecting his mom to appear in the open door.

            Now, Suga felt nervous about being alone with even Daichi—door open or not. Still, he followed him down the hall and into his familiar bedroom. He stood awkwardly in the doorway as Daichi cleared off his bed, pulling the sheets straight.

            “Everything feels wrong,” Suga admitted. “Since- Sine it happened, it feels like everything is different. Even here, Daichi, I feel like I don’t belong here.”

            “Nothing’s changed,” Daichi said softly. “Things are the same as they’ve always been.”

            Suga shook his head and gingerly sat down beside Daichi. “They aren’t and you know it. They’ll never be the same. Things don’t just ‘stay the same’ after someone gets… Gets raped.” Suga’s throat hitched and he breathed out in disbelief, “I was raped.” His heartrate picked up. “I was raped, Daich. I was raped. Think about all the stories you read about it. All… All of the statistics and facts and- fuck-“

            He was beginning to hyperventilate.

            “Shh, sh, sh,” Daichi hushed, clutching Suga’s face. He pulled his head to his chest, ignoring Suga’s struggles. “You’re okay. You’re okay. It’s over. You have too much going through your mind right now. You just need to slow it down. You’re safe here. He can’t get you here. Take a deep breath, and then another. I love you, and things are going to get better eventually.”

            Suga wrapped his arms around Daichi’s torso. There was a hand around his lungs, crushing his heart between them as it squeezed.

“I don’t want to be known as the guy that was raped in the park,” Suga breathed. The taped rewound and played again, flashing images in high quality. “He had his hands all- all over me, Dai. I could feel the fuck-fucking dog toy in my throat…” He shuddered.  “I didn’t stop bleeding for days! I thought he was going to kill me. I thought I was going to die. I didn’t want it, I swear, I swear, I didn’t want it. I just- I couldn’t move. I just didn’t want to die; I just didn’t want him to kill me.”

            Daichi cradled Suga. “I believe you. I believe everything you’re saying. Nobody wants something like that to happen to them. You had no control over what happened. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

            And for ten minutes, Suga cried into Daichi’s chest. Daichi, on his back with Suga on top of him, clutched in his broad arms. Their legs were tangled. Daichi ran his hand up and down Suga’s back.

            “Stay over here tonight. You won’t have to face your family quite yet. And… I just want to hold you. It’s been a month since you’ve closed yourself off and knowing that you’re okay and here makes me want to never let go of you. I’m scared you’re just going to disappear,” Daichi mumbled.

            When Suga didn’t respond, Daichi opened his eyes and looked at his boyfriend’s face. He was completely passed out, still clinging to Daichi.

〚 33 - 43 〛

            Suga got a new phone and number on Tuesday. He began counselling on Wednesday. The police hadn’t apprehended the man, and on Friday, they determined he wasn’t from the area. The man had been silent, no sign of him since Suga had gone to the training camp. The following Monday, Suga returned to classes.

            Halfway through the day, he went to the guidance offices with a headful of anxiety. People were talking. Whispering. People knew. The team knew. Rumours began spreading.

            He was in a relationship with the older man. He was going out and fucking everyone and anyone wherever he could. He’d broken up with Daichi to be with a forty-year-old man. He had an STI.

            He was cutting. He was anorexic. He’d set an entire house on fire. He was failing grade twelve (which, was starting to look more like the truth rather than a rumour). He hadn’t been at school the previous week because he’d attempted suicide and was in a mental ward.

            School became hell. Facing his friends became hell. Just as he had predicted, things only got worse because he’d told someone.

            The man reappeared. Suga woke up one morning to a bouquet of flowers hanging from a noose off his light. The police returned, scouring the entire area by 7:30am. Suga was promptly taken to Daichi’s with Hiro while their mom drove the younger kids four hours out of town to their aunt’s house, to get them out of harms way.

            It was that morning when Hiroko found Suga in the Sawamura’s bathroom with his arms slashed up, blood dripping to the floor. Suga couldn’t bring himself down from his hysteria. His mind wasn’t functioning properly, there were broken connections everywhere. He didn’t know what he was screaming when Mrs. Sawamura wrapped his arms in towels. He couldn’t remember Daichi holding him in the backseat of a vehicle on the way to the hospital. He didn’t remember Daichi’s voice talking to Ukai through the phone, telling him why he wasn’t at the morning practice—telling him what had happened.

            The hospital was quiet. Suga was immediately taken to get his arms stitched. He was put under suicide watch for 24 hours, unable to leave the hospital. His mom put on a brave face when she returned to find her son with his arms shredded and in a hospital bed. Hiroko had kept a stoic façade while it was happening, but Suga had heard her crying just outside the door when she said she was going to get some coffee.

            When Suga was released from the hospital, the team was waiting in the parking lot, all smiles and balloons and cupcakes. Even Tsukishima had a miniscule smile on his face when Suga came through the sliding doors, his bandaged arms clutched to his stomach.

            They itched; his arms itched frustratingly. He was no longer intent on scratching off his face, now he wanted to peel off the skin of his arms. The feeling of the warm blood the morning before was still fresh in his mind.

            He had enjoyed it. Suga loved being that out of control. He wanted that sort of chaos back. No one could touch him when he was spinning so out of control like that. He was invincible.

            “We brought you carrot cupcakes, Suga-san,” Hinata said, holding out a container. “With cream cheese frosting. Uh, Yamaguchi and I made them.”

            “Thanks, you two,” Suga responded politely, taking the container from Hinata. He didn’t miss multiple pairs of eyes follow his bandaged arms. Feeling their stares tempted him to rip off the gauze and show them the disgusting, swollen, stitched up and irritated cuts that were cross hatching his arms.

            “You’re probably exhausted, so we’ll leave you be, but the team—and myself and Takeda—wanted to stop by to see how you were doing. You gave all of us a pretty good scare,” Ukai said, quirking an eyebrow.

            Suga didn’t say anything in return. He was tired, Ukai was right. He was so tired it almost took effort to breathe.

            His mom took the balloons, thanking Suga’s friends quietly for him. Yachi handed her a card as well. Suga blinked slowly, looking over his friends. This was his last year of high school and it felt like he’d completely wasted it. He had missed so much. He probably wouldn’t see any of them once he graduated.

            “Suga? Say thank you to your friends and then I’ll take you home, okay?” his mom said. “I’ll put these in the car and wait for you there.” She took the cupcakes and then began making her way to the vehicle.

            Kiyoko pushed forward and hugged Suga tightly, burying her face into his shoulder. “Don’t do that again,” she said quietly. “I thought you had killed yourself when Daichi texted me.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            She pulled away, shaking out her hair, and looked at him. “Don’t make this a habit.”

            “I won’t.”

            “And please make sure you’re eating enough.”

            “Alright.”

            “Come back to volleyball soon, too.”

            Suga tore at the skin of his lip. “I’ll try.”

            Kiyoko let go and smiled, nodding slightly and backing up, letting the others hug Suga. Suga put up with the hugs, apologizing too many times and sounding more and more robotic as the minutes ticked by.

            And then, just like that, they left. Daichi went with them. Suga stood in the hospital parking lot, watching them go. From the hole in his chest, it felt like they were all leaving forever. Suddenly, Suga was stuck in a deep, dark pit. By himself. Alone. Isolated.

            Somewhere above, was everyone else, shouting happily and moving on with their lives, doing things, going places. He could hear them, but he couldn’t reach them. They were there, but he wasn’t.

            “Koushi, come on, baby. Let’s go home and get you cleaned up,” his mom said from beside the vehicle.

            Suga hadn’t showered for five days.

            He walked towards the car and got into the front seat. He waited for his mom to turn the vehicle on, but remained still, her hand on the keys. Then she turned to him and quietly asked, “Were you trying to kill yourself?”

            “I don’t know, I can’t remember,” Suga answered. He ran a hand along the side of the car, uncomfortable and unable to meet his mom’s eyes. “I was just scared,” he said ever so quietly.

            He heard his mom’s breath hitch.

            “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. I should have… I should have caught on that something was seriously wrong. I should have asked more questions… I’m so sorry and I’m going to do everything I can to fix this. When I heard—“ She rose a hand to her mouth as her words caught and tears formed. “I shouldn’t have let any of this happen. When your teacher phoned me… I- I felt so stupid for not seeing it?”

            “You couldn’t have known,” Suga softly said. “It would have… It would have happened anyways. And it’s my fault for not saying something sooner. You couldn’t have known.”

            His mom was crying, sniffling. “I’m your mom. How can I let something like this happen to my baby? I want to take all of it away, and knowing that I can’t and I can’t do anything for you is hurting me so much more than I thought it would. I want… I want that man dead and I want him to pay for what he did and is doing.”

            Suga’s chest tightened as he forced out the words, “It’s fine, mom.”

            But it wasn’t. It wasn’t fine and it was never going to be fine, but he didn’t know how to comfort his mom. He didn’t want her to feel responsible. He didn’t want to her fret over him.

            But it was stupid to say that it was fine, and it was stupid to try to convince that she didn’t need to worry. There was a man breaking into the house, putting all the kids at risk. She needed to worry. Suga had nearly killed himself just two days ago. She needed to worry.

            He didn’t really know what was next.

⌜⋯⌟

            His mom had already set up therapy sessions with another doctor—this one specifically for his inclination to hurt himself. Suga wondered when his entire life had began revolving around the man. That was exactly what he wanted. The man wanted to leave a mark on him.

            He did.

            Suga spent the night after coming home from the hospital cleaning his room as best he could. He pulled out the sex toy from his closet and he pulled out the shredded photographs of himself from the bedside table. They could go to the police. Maybe they could use them.

            Giving the dildo to his mom and explaining where it was from was the worst moment of his entire life. While Suga was explaining that, he also told her about the bedsheets—the one’s the man had jerked off on. Those couldn’t go to the police because they had been burned.

            “Was that why my garden was dug up?” his mom had asked him, mouth trembling.

            Suga was exposed enough as it was. He had nothing to hide. After giving the evidence to his mom, he went back to his room and pushed his bed back against the wall. He picked up the dirty clothes that had been covering his floor for weeks. He threw out all the garbage, and collected the mugs with moulding tea and coffee in them.

            He vacuumed the carpet and put new sheets on his bed. He put a load of clothes in the wash. He straightened out the mess on his desk and collected his unfinished, and very late schoolwork.

            When he was done, he didn’t feel better. His therapist had said that cleaning would make him feel calmer, not so overwhelmed by thoughts.

            Suga felt like he was stuck in a fake void of peace and happiness. It was suffocating.

            Suga picked up his phone and quickly found Daichi’s number. It was almost midnight.

            Daichi answered almost instantly.

            “Hey, hi, is everything okay?” he asked the moment he picked up.

            “I cleaned my room,” Suga responded weakly. He shivered, feeling cold.

            Daichi took a second to say something back. He lowered his tone, speaking gently. “That’s good. Having a clean room’ll be good for you.”

            Suga slid into his clean bed, wriggling underneath the covers. The bandages on his arms tugged.

            “It feels fake. I feel fake,” he whispered.

            “What makes you say that?” Daichi questioned softly.

            Suga’s eyes slid shut. “I don’t know…” His room was too bright, but the light switch was too far away. “I miss you, Daichi.”

            “I’m right here.” Daichi’s voice was warm and smooth, wrapping around Suga’s body like a familiar hug. “What’s going through your head right now?”

            “I just feel like I haven’t seen you or anyone else since practice that… the night it happened. I’m lonely and it feels like it’s just me and him. It feels like we’re the only two people in the entire world and everyone else is so far away, like on another planet. I want you guys to come back.”

            “Suga…” Daichi breathed out. “We haven’t left. You need to come back to us. There’s nothing… There’s nothing we can do because you’re the one that’s gone. We’re doing our best, but you need to start trying too.”

            The words pierced Suga’s chest, but he knew Daichi was right. “He has me, Daichi, he has me though,” he cried. “Don’t hang up, don’t leave, please.”

            “I won’t, I’m right here.”

            “I miss you so much. I want everything to go back to how it was. I miss everything so much. I miss the old me.”

            “I know, babe, I know,” Daichi whispered. “It’s been a long day and you’re probably exhausted. Just try to slow everything down. Just try to think about something else. Download some stupid, mindless games on your phone. Listen to classical music. Try to take your mind off of everything, okay?”

            Suga rubbed his bandage arm over his stomach slowly, feeling the scratch of the tape. How long would it take the cuts to heal? How long would it take the scars to fade?

            “Please, don’t hang up,” he whispered quietly, one more time. He put the phone on speaker, placing it on the pillow next to his head. “You can go to sleep, but just… Leave the line open. I’m so lonely. I want to know there’s someone there.”

            “Alright… Alright, I’m here, Suga. I’ll plug my phone in and when you wake up tomorrow, I’ll still be here,” Daichi said. “I love you.”

            Suga sucked in a breath.

            Then he released it and repeated the words back to his boyfriend, for the first time in weeks.

〚 46 〛

            Suga went for a run with Daichi that morning. After a month and a week of next to no exercising and poor nutritional choices, Suga wasn’t really in the best of shape. His stamina had never been great to begin with, but now he could barely go a minute without needing to stop. He felt bad for holding Daichi back, but the other was patient and matched Suga’s pace.

            Afterwards, Suga showered and got ready for the school day at Daichi’s house. Daichi had skipped that morning’s practice to make sure Suga safely got to school for first class. And it was probably best that Daichi was there, because the moment Suga opened his locker, a flurry of photos fell out, slicing through the air to the land at their feet.

            It took both of them a few seconds to make sense of what they were seeing.

            Half of the photos were taken from within Suga’s room. Some were of him laying absently in bed, some of him getting dressed, and some of him sitting on his floor with his homework splayed out in front of him.

            The other half of the photos were grainy and dark, but once you saw the erect penis in the man’s hand, it couldn’t be unseen.

            Immediately, Daichi had stooped down and collected the photos hastily. There were a few others at their lockers and had turned at the commotion, curious. Suga slowly reached into the bottom of the locker, pulling out one of the photos that hadn’t fallen. A candid shot of him in his room on his phone, laying in bed.

The night he had returned from the hospital and called Daichi.

            “Don’t look at those,” Daichi said. “Suga, just close your locker. We’re going to Takeda.”

            “He put a camera in my room,” Suga said quietly, eyes stilled glued to the photos as he pulled them out of his locker. He slowly looked through them.

            In his underwear.

            Changing his bandages.

            Crying on his bed.

            His mom cleaning his room (it had gotten dirty two days after he cleaned it).

            And an array of the same penis.

            “Suga,” Daichi said sharply, grabbing the photos in his hand. “You don’t need to be looking at these. Come on, let’s go.”

            The other students left the locker area, acting as if nothing had happened. The sun was shining through the large windows, glinting in the corner of Suga’s eyes. It shone off the photos in Daichi’s hands. The man was probably in the school still. Hiding in a bathroom stall. Crouched in a broom closet. Waiting. Waiting for Suga.

            Waiting to get his hands on him again.

            “Suga, we need to tell Takeda so he that can contact the police. He might still be in the area. If he’s still here, they might be able to catch him.”

            “No, we’re going to be late for class. We need to go,” Suga said, closing his locker with a click. He felt sick; deep in his stomach there was a coating of icicles. His calves were tight from the run this morning.

            His body was aching similarly to how it had the few days after that night.

            “Let’s just throw the pictures out,” Suga said.

            Daichi slid a hand down the inside of Suga’s arm, feeling the cuts, before linking their fingers together. “These are going to Takeda, and then right to the police. We aren’t going to first class until the police say that it’s safe.”

            “They’ll put the school on lockdown,” Suga said.

            “Good,” Daichi said. “If the school’s on lockdown, then he can’t get you. And he can’t get anyone else.”

            “You know, I’m causing a lot of problems for everybody,” Suga bit, tearing his hand from Daichi’s. “You have no say in what I want to do. If I don’t want anybody to see those pictures, then no one gets to see those pictures. I don’t need your help.”

            Daichi handed the stack of photos back, slowly, edging around Suga’s sudden change in mood. “The only people that are going to see these are you, me, Takeda, and the police, but you have to tell somebody. I know you want him to be put behind bars.”

            “What if I don’t?” Suga snapped. “I have no sort of secrecy anymore! Everything I do someone needs to know about. Daichi, you don’t know what it’s like to have no privacy!Everyone in this entire fucking school knows about what happened. I know that everyone’s pictured it happening. I know you have!”

            “Suga… How could I… It’s not like I wanted to. I couldn’t get it out of my head after you told me…”

            “Yeah, and it was probably like that with everyone. And now everyone in this school has the image of me being raped in their head. That’s all anyone sees anymore! I’m not Suga anymore! I’m just a fucking rape victim to everyone now!”

            Suga held up the photos. “If I give these to the police, it’s just another thing for everyone to talk about. He jerks himself off while watching me and I didn’t even know it! I don’t want everyone to know that! It just adds to all the disgusting things about me.”

            “You’re not—“

            “Yes, I am!”

            Suga could feel himself teetering on the edge of hysteria again—the same hysteria he was engulfed in the morning he nearly killed himself. He was self destructing again and it was exhilarating.

             He wanted to be consumed.

             They gave the photos to Takeda, and the school was promptly put on lockdown. The teacher’s lounge was locked tightly, shutting Daichi and Suga inside. The police showed up soon after and an officer sat in the lounge as well, silently flicking through the photos. Other officers scoured the school grounds and surrounding area. Another went through Suga’s locker.

            “These were already in your locker when you got to school? You didn’t see anyone?” the officer asked.

            “They were there this morning. I didn’t see anyone.”

            The woman nodded and slid the photos into a bag, out of sight. “We have officers already at your house. If the camera is still there, we can use that to find him. We’re doing everything we can, alright Sugawara? It was wise of you to bring these to your teacher.”

            Suga nodded, looking down at his scabbed and scarring arms. “Yeah.”

            Beside him, Daichi was bouncing a knee, seeming anxious. Suga himself didn’t feel anxious though; he just felt vulnerable and exposed again. They had him naked and pinned down like an insect. He wanted to brush this under the rug. Between the police and the man snooping in his life, there was no privacy. He hated it. But he wasn’t anxious.

            He was just frustrated.

            Suga pulled out his phone. There were texts from his sister, worrying about his safety yet again. He was fine.

            A text from Asahi and another from Ennoshita.

            Suga ignored all of them and pulled up Oikawa’s contact instead.

            Suga is there anyway you can get out of class? I need to talk to someone

            Suga he put pictures of me in my locker

            Suga and pictures of him jerking off

            Almost immediately, Oikawa responded.

            Oikawa what the fuck? are you ok?

            Suga the schools on lockdown. im tired of all of this

            Oikawa I know.. this is probably the worst advice but try to think positively about it? every time he does something the  

            police just get that much closer to catching him

            Suga theyre all inside my head tho Im literally nothing but an object now idk I don’t want to be here anymore

            Oikawa where do you want to be?

            “Sugawara, please put your phone away until we know what’s happening and if the school is safe,” the principal said.

            Suga looked down at the three little dots signifying that Oikawa was typing. He turned his phone off and slid it away. He focused his eyes on the stack of folders on the desk across the room. The rest of the lounge blurred out and heavy, metal bars slammed down in Suga’s mind, trapping him there.

            The constant, replaying tape of the man fucking him was still there, flickering against the side of his skull. Everything else was an absolute mess. His brain felt like it was splitting between letting this whole thing consume him, or fighting back. It was like there were two songs being sung, one fast and happy and staccato, and the other one slow and helpless and slurred. He wanted to tear them apart. He wanted to tear his head apart.

            The phone beneath his thigh buzzed as Oikawa’s text was received. It wasn’t quite enough to tug him back down to reality.

            Everything was very L O U D.

            “Ah, Sugawara, your nose is bleeding!” Takeda said in surprise, fumbling for a tissue box.

            Blood slid over his mouth, dripping off his lip and onto his uniform. Everyone’s eyes went to him. Takeda handed him a few tissues and Suga pressed them to his nose. He watched the tape in his mind stutter over the moment the man had held the bloodied dog toy over his face. That blood had dripped onto his face as well. Slid over his cheek.

            Suga was going to obliterate.

〚 47 〛

            “I’m drunk, Tooru.”

            “Oh,” Oikawa’s voice said from the other side of the line, shocked. “Oh, wow, okay. Where did you even get alcohol?”

            Suga kicked the dirt under his feet, his body swaying dangerously on the swing he was seated on. “I stole it from Daichi’s house. His parents drink sometimes. And I knew where it was. Was that… Was that wrong? Was it wrong to steal it?”

            “Uhh, yeah, maybe. Are you okay? It’s not really like you to steal beer and then get drunk,” Oikawa commented.

            Suga looked at the cigarette between his fingers. Both of them—the beer and the cigarette—tasted awful. He welcomed it.

            “I stole a packet of cigarettes from my sister as well,” Suga admitted. He laughed, eyes closing tiredly. “I want to fucking die. This is kind of fun; you know? I feel good. I have an awful taste in my mouth, but this… this isn’t so bad.”

            “Alright,” Oikawa said slowly. Suga heard him swallow nervously. “Suga, where are you? Is there anyone with you?”

            “I’m waiting for him,” Suga mumbled, crossing his eyes as he tried to keep them trained on the glow of ember on the end of the cigarette as he brought it to his mouth. “I know he’ll come. Always does, I bet.”

            There was a moment of silence, and then Oikawa asked, “Who?”

            Suga laughed again and nearly fell off the back of the swing as his centre of balance dropped. “You know who. Him. I know he always comes back here. He’s a pervert and a creep. He… I bet he comes back here every night. Probably jerks off right on the spot.”

            “Okay, you’re starting to scare me. It’s two in the morning and if you’re drunk, alone, and back where you got raped than you need to go home. I’m being serious. I’ll call Daichi if I have to.”

            “You wouldn’t,” Suga slurred. “If you hang up to call Daichi, I’ll kill myself.”

            “That’s not fair,” Oikawa said bluntly. “I can’t win here. I want you to be safe and what you’re doing right now isn’t exactly safe. You’re being stupid, Suga. What are you trying to accomplish?”

            Suga’s foot hit the bottle of beer on the ground, spilling it over the sand. He swore and ungracefully bent over to pick it up. He slid off the swing and dropped to his knees.

            “Suga,” Oikawa snapped. “I asked you a question.”

            “I don’t fucking know,” Suga responded bitterly, shrugging. He felt irritated suddenly. “I have no explanation for anything, but I feel good for the first time for ages.”

            “That’s because you’re drunk. Alcohol tends to do that. I promise, you’ll feel like shit again tomorrow.”

            Suga grimaced. “Thanks. You really how to lift a guy’s spirits.”

            “I really don’t care about lifting your spirits right now. I’m more focused on making sure you don’t get yourself murdered,” Oikawa said. “Go home, please?”

            Suga dug the end of the cigarette butt into his exposed ankle, biting back a hiss of pain. The world around him seemed suffocating. He was in a void. There seemed to be no moon. No stars. No street lights. Suga couldn’t see a thing. He could see everything that night. Moon, stars, lights, him.

            “Suga—“

            “Have you ever had sex?” Suga interrupted. He poured out the rest of the beer into the sand and lit another cigarette for the soul purpose of sticking it to his skin.

            “What? I’ve… Yeah?”

            “With who?” Suga wondered. He was beginning to grow accustomed to the sting.

            Oikawa mulled over the question. “A few girlfriends, I guess. Why?”

            Suga shrugged, as if Oikawa could see him.

            “Curious.”

            “Suga, are you still out there?” Oikawa asked softly.

            Suga felt an emptiness in his chest. He felt like he’d been stood up. He’d been stood up by his own rapist and stalker. “I am. He hasn’t showed up.” He paused, looking around the park. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness. “I don’t know where to go.”

            “Go home. Get some sleep.”

            Suga grabbed another beer and pulled out the bottle opener from his pocket.

            “I’m scared if I go home I’ll actually do it,” Suga whispered. He tilted the bottle back, swallowing the piss tasting liquid.

            “Do what?”

            “Kill myself. I’m just… I don’t know. I’m curious to see. I want to self destruct. I can’t explain it. I just want to do stupid shit to hurt myself. I don’t know, Tooru.” Suga laid down on the sand. “Did you know if I was a girl, people would be rallying behind me and defending me? If I was anything but a gay male, this would be an awful thing that’s happened in the community. But because I’m a fucking faggot, people think I wanted it. They think that because I’m gay I probably enjoyed it. No one talks about it outwardly, really, but I know that everyone talks about it over the dinner table. How ‘that bastard Sugawara child is skanking around in children’s parks with older men—how revolting’. I’m a whore now, you know that right? I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

            “Even if that were the case, I wouldn’t stop talking to you because as a person, you’re a joy to be around and your sex life isn’t my business. You’re not a whore, you’re not revolting, and the only things that matters is that the people important to you don’t think those sorts of things about you,” Oikawa said.

            Suga could feel heat spreading throughout his body and he dug his free hand in the cool sand. He had nothing else to say to Oikawa, but his phone hadn’t given him a tone saying that he had hung up.

            “Will you promise me that if you go home you won’t hurt yourself?” Oikawa asked.

            “Yeah,” Suga mumbled half-heartedly. “See you.”

            He hung up and let his phone drop. He stared at the sky.

            The world was turning without him. The park was frozen in time. It was a crime scene and crime scenes were always frozen in time while the rest of the world went on. If the man did show up, Suga wouldn’t even be able to fight back he was so drunk.

            “Suga?” a voice called.

            Suga shot upright, smacking his head on the bottom of the swing that had been suspended above him. The world swirled. He was here.

            A light flicked on—bright and blinding. Suga closed his eyes and covered his face.

            “Hey, it’s just me—Daichi.” He lowered the torch on his phone as he stepped up into the sandbox that Suga was in. “Oikawa called me. He told me you were out here drunk. Are you hurt?”

            Suga kept his hands over his face, embarrassed to look at Daichi. “I just got off the phone with him… How… did you get here so quickly?”

            “He called me about five minutes ago, a little more. I got on my dad’s bike and came here as fast as I could,” Daichi said softly, tossing a bottle out of the way as he knelt down.

            Five minutes ago? Suga felt disorientated. He was just talking with Oikawa. The world really was going on without him.

            “How much have you had to drink?”

            “I’m sorry…” Suga whispered. He dropped his hands and looked at Daichi’s knee. “I stole it from your house. I was just… I just started drinking my fourth. It tastes like shit. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Daichi.”

            Daichi was quiet. He picked up the pack of smokes. “How many of these did you have?”

            “Only one,” Suga said ever so quietly. “I- I mostly just lit them and put them out… on- on my skin.”

            Again, Daichi was quiet. He scanned the ground with his flashlight and started collecting the cigarettes scattered around and placed the empty bottles upright. Suga felt his chest ice over and emotions surge inside of him watching his boyfriend clean his mess. His hands were shaking.

            “I’m sorry,” Suga choked. “I said I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wanted to- I wanted to kill him. I came here and I was thinking about how if he showed up I would strangle him and I started drinking and- and I was feeling too much I was scared and anxious and angry and whatever else I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Daichi. I’m so sorry. I… I feel like I have no control over anything. He’s doing it. He did it.”

            “I’m going to take you home. Here, get on my back,” Daichi said, ignoring Suga’s words.

            “You’re mad at me.” Suga felt small. He was at fault. Maybe being raped wasn’t in his control, but this was. Him stealing the beer and cigarettes was his fault. Daichi was mad. “Don’t be mad. Please don’t be mad. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want Oikawa to call you because I knew you would be mad.”

            Daichi sighed. “I’m not mad, Suga. It’s nearly three in them morning. I was jerked awake to hear that you were drunk in the park waiting to confront your stalker. I’m still half asleep and on my way here, I felt sick thinking I’d find you… you know… bleeding and naked, or whatever. I’m not mad. You’re dealing with a lot right now. This probably wasn’t the best way to handle it, but I’m not mad.”

            “Are you sick of dealing with me?” Suga asked, scared to hear the answer.

            “No, of course not. Don’t ever think that. Now come on, get on my back. I’m going to take you home. You’re going to be hungover tomorrow.”

            Daichi crouched, his back to Suga and slowly, Suga wrapped his arms around Daichi’s neck and legs around his waist. Daichi stood and they began making their way through the park.

            Suga whimpered and tears slid over his lashes. He pressed his face to the side of Daichi’s warm neck and whispered over and over “I’m sorry”.

〚 50 〛

            “Koushi, that money on the counter there is for you to take for lunch, and there’s some extra there for your date with Daichi afterwards.”

            Suga let the pages of the calendar fall, dropping it back down to May. He stared at the current date, burning a hole in the number. He didn’t respond to his mom, her singing from the living room sweet and light.

             Even when Daichi had brought him home at 3am a few nights ago, drunk and stinking of smoke, his mom wasn’t angry. She took him upstairs and ran a shower. She filled a bottle with water and put together a light snack while Suga washed up. Daichi stuck around and was there as soon as he heard Suga vomiting.

             Cleaned up, hydrated, fed, and changed into soft clothes, Suga’s mom helped him into bed and Daichi checked that the windows were locked, made sure the closet was empty, and looked in every nook and cranny for another camera.

             “Koushi?” his mom’s singing stopped.

             “I’m okay,” Suga replied quietly, pulling out of his trance.

             His mom appeared in the doorway, laundry in his hands. “Are you ready? We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

             He was missing school for a trip to the Miyagi region’s Mental Health Facility—suggested by one of his therapists. He was sick with anxiety and while he spent the day with the head psychiatrist and a few other counsellors to discuss his future, self-harmful tendencies, post-traumatic stress disorder, and a least a million other things, his mom was going to visit the other four of her children.

             “Oh, and don’t stay out with Daichi too long, because your tutor is going to be here at seven,” his mom said, sliding the laundry basket onto the table. “We’re going to get your life back on the right path. You’re going to pass your exams with flying colours and don’t worry about university until you’re good and ready. We’ll help you get yourself back into the world slowly.”

              Suga rubbed his chest. “I’m not a recluse.”

              He was, though. Going out with Daichi after school was going to be the first public outing with a friend since it had happened. They would be going to a popular café where there would be many pairs of eyes as witness if anything were to happen. And Suga was still unsure and uneasy.

              His mom grabbed a snack container from the fridge and slid it into her bag before turning to Suga and pulling his head down gently, kissing his forehead. “Today is going to be good. Text me if there’s an emergency or you just want to leave. And I want you to text me regularly so I know you’re okay.”

              “Mom… You know that guy who walked by with a dog the morning you took me to go to the training camp? And you said we should get to know him because he seemed like a nice guy?”

              His mom nodded, blinking doe-like eyes.

              “That was him,” Suga finished. He stepped away from his mom, averting any coming comfort that she would try to initiate. He grabbed his phone off the table and started towards the door.

               Just get through a day of shrinks poking through your brain and then you can have a nice, non-stressful date with Daichi.

               But Suga hadn’t had a non-stressful moment for over a month, so why would this time be any different?

⌜⋯⌟

               Daichi school just finished, I’ll be there in about an hour

                        sent 1 HOUR and 38 MINUTES A G O

               Suga picked at the skin on his lips, tasting blood. He scanned the parking lot outside of the Mental Health Facility. He was in the lobby—he had been for the past two and a half hours, curled in one of the lobby chairs. He played some mindless games on his phone for a while, stepped out of the building to look around for Daichi, returned and repeated.

               Suga hes not here yet

               Mom It’s rush hour, so traffic is probably awful. Don’t worry. He would let you know if he had to cancel.

                Suga looked at the three ladies behind the tall counter. They were all in blue scrubs. They all had their hair tied up and pulled back. They likely dealt with all the files. They probably knew everything about everyone that came in. Did they know he had been raped? Or was that confidential?

                The three women laughed at something. Suga got off his chair, feeling jittery and shaky, and walked through the automatic doors again. It was windy, but the sun was out still. The parking lot was fairly barren. Suga wanted to leave the hospital. He was emotionally exhausted after talking to so many different people and reliving the experience. He was dizzy after talking with a career counsellor—what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go, his options, how he could quickly catch up in school.

                A grey car rolled up in front of Suga and the window rolled down.

                “Hey, sorry I took so long,” Daichi said. “It felt like I was trying to get through Tokyo with how bad the traffic was.”

                Suga opened the door and got into the seat, slowly pulling out the seatbelt and clicking it into place. Suddenly he felt anxious about being locked in the car. He began picturing the man in the back seat, ready to spring up at any moment, wrap his hands around Suga’s throat. He kept his eyes down, not letting Daichi read him.

                As Daichi pulled the car forward, out of the parking lot and onto the road, he asked, “How was it?”

                “Exhausting,” Suga replied. He rubbed his hands on his trousers and then lifted his eyes to out his window, looking at the cars beside them. “Oh, and my mom wants me home for seven. I have a tutor coming.”

                “Alright, we won’t be here long. Just a quick little dinner date and then I’ll get you home,” promised Daichi. His hand slid over and he held it open, inviting Suga to hold it.

                 Suga clasped his hands into fists and looked at Daichi’s extended hand. “My hands are clammy,” Suga said feebly.

                 Daichi looked over. “If you want, your clammy hands can hold my clammy feet if it makes you feel better.”

                 Suga simply blinked.

                 “Suga, I couldn’t care less about your clammy hands, okay? Everyone’s hands get clammy,” Daichi said. He flicked on his turn signal and came to a stop at a light. Suga slowly linked their fingers together, embarrassed at his sweaty palms.

                 They were silent for a few minutes, holding hands and letting the bumps of the road jostle their bodies. Like Daichi had said, the cars on the road were packed like sardines. Every car they passed, Suga looked into the windows at the driver.

                 And then, once again, Suga felt tiny. There were thousands of people in the city, all with separate lives, all dealing with their own issues. They had their worlds—whatever that contained—and Suga had his. His world was not theirs. If they were to simply look at him, they would not be able to know that he had been raped and was now being stalked.

                 The weight of the never ending universe and all that it held pressed down on Suga’s chest until he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t swallow.

                 Daichi pulled the car up along the sidewalk of a building—a bank.

                 “I have to grab some cash quickly, I’ll be out right away,” Daichi said, turning off the car and unlocking their fingers. Suga nodded and watched him get out of the car and step onto the curb. The car locked and beeped twice as Daichi stepped away.

                 Suga with daichi. just stopped at the bank

                Mom How is traffic?

                Suga bad

                Suga stared at the bank, hands folded on his lap, as he waited. The seatbelt was rubbing against the side of his neck and the sun was starting to make the vehicle warm. He felt like he was in an oven, bubbling and boiling, burning on the edges. He should have asked Daichi to leave the keys with him so he could put the AC on.

            Suga unbuckled himself and pulled up the car lock with two fingers, propping open the door to let in some fresh air. He clicked the lock button once, taking all precautions if the man approached. He watched the people pass by.

            The bank door opened and Daichi came back out, shoving his wallet into his back pocket. He got back into the car and Suga closed his door again as he started the car, blasting the air conditioning.

            “Alright, I’ve held up this date for too long. Let’s go eat,” Daichi said. He shoulder-checked and pulled back into traffic. “You hungry?”

            “Yeah, kind of,” Suga shrugged. He turned around and examined the back seat, still feeling on edge. He hated the constant paranoia, but this time he genuinely felt that he was being watched. And Daichi could tell how anxious Suga was.

            Daichi turned on the radio without saying a word and put on some music quietly. Suga was obsessively checking his phone. He was feeling unexplained anxiety. Just a thrumming of fear throughout his body.

            Suddenly, he was cold. Suga glanced at the dials and then at Daichi. The AC was on. Daichi’s face was a little flushed from the heat. He couldn’t turn the air conditioning off.

            He anxiously cracked his knuckles and bit at a hangnail.

            “What’s up?” Daichi asked, glancing over.

            He knew Suga was anxious. He k n e w.

            Suga didn’t want to ruin this date. He wanted to be normal again.

            His mouth was dry. “It’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

            Daichi seemed to gnaw on that, unsure of what to say.

Suga had fucked up. He was making everything awkward and uncomfortable. An apology got stuck in his throat. He wasn’t cold anymore. His body was crawling with waves of embarrassment and he wanted to cry.

            “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, you know that, right?” Daichi abruptly said. He kept his eyes on the road. “This is hard for me too. Not as much as it is for you, but I’ve never even briefly thought of something like this happening to anyone I know, much less you. I don’t know how to, I don’t know, act. I don’t want to do or say something wrong. I’m worried I’m going to make things worse.”

            Suga’s teeth were going to shatter, his jaw was clenched so hard as he tried to push back the tears. He couldn’t open his throat to reply. They sat in silence for a few moments.

            “You can’t,” Suga said—too loudly, too harshly. “You can’t make things worse. I just want you to- to stay. You don’t have to say anything about it if you don’t want to. Just say something.” He breathing hitched and he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. “I’m just scared and I miss- I miss- fuck, I don’t know- I miss everything. I don’t want you to leave because I can’t be fucking normal. I promise,” his voice dropped to a shaky whisper. “I’ll be better. Just please, please, please, don’t go.”

            “I’m not going to, not in a million years. Don’t force yourself to be ‘better’ just for me, especially when you’re not—“

            “I’m painful to be around!”

            Suga was ruining this date.

            “No one can act normal around me anymore. I have to be better because I make people uncomfortable now. I just want things to be back to how they were before. Everything is different. You’re different.”

            People are uncomfortable around you because you act PSYCHOTIC.

            Suga crumpled into a sob. He was so fucking sad, so fucking scared, so fucking desperate. He wanted to get rid of everything in the past two months.

            Daichi pulled into a small, pot-holey parking lot and swiftly parked. He unbuckled himself and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend tightly. “Everything is different because something awful happened in our quiet town, and people are just trying to adapt to it. How ever people adapt to it is going to have to be the new normal, whether we like it or not. You can’t control that. Even if you flip a switch and are miraculously okay with what happened, things are going to still be different, so don’t you dare force fake happiness. If you’re sad, be sad. If you’re scared, be scared. When you’re happy, be happy, okay? It’s only going to make things worse if you rush the whole… healing process.”

            “But I’m not getting better,” Suga sniffled.

            “That’s because its only been two months since it happened, and it hasn’t even been a month since you’ve gotten help. No one has even known since barely a month ago. You just need to give it some more time, babe.”

            Suga shivered and sniffed a few times, blinking tears off his lashes. He wiped his face and cleared his throat.

            “Sorry,” he mumbled wetly. “I didn’t want to ruin today.”

            “The only thing that could ruin this date is if the planet were to literally combust. Now come on, let’s go eat and then we’ll go home,” Daichi said. He pressed a kiss to the tip of Suga’s ear and then pulled away, opening his door.

            Suga flipped down the visor and opened the tiny mirror, looking at his face in the reflection.

            A stab of self-loathing crossed through him. He was disgusting.

            “You can tell I’ve been crying,” Suga said sourly.

            “You look perfect to me,” Daichi shrugged. He reached over and snapped the mirror closed. “Come, my beautiful prince, let me buy you a warm drink and something to eat.”

⌜⋯⌟

            The café had a warm, welcoming atmosphere. There were a few people, there was soft acoustic music playing, plants hung from the ceiling and sat on crates, and it smelled of cinnamon. Daichi and Suga sat themselves in a corner by the window, looking out on the sidewalk.

            Suga crossed his ankles and propped his chin on a hand, looking out and turning his face away from the other people in the restaurant.

The man could have been anywhere, but as long as Daichi was with him, the man wouldn’t show himself.

            Suga hadn’t seen him for a while, not him in the physical form.

            “Hi, what can I get for you two?” a waitress asked, smiling.

            Suga hadn’t even looked at the menu yet. Daichi ordered his food, and Suga quickly skimmed through the options. How hungry was he feeling? What could he stomach? There were too many options. The letters were vibrating so aggressively they were simply blurs. He wanted this to be a good date. He didn’t want to ruin the date, but he had and still was. He couldn’t even read the fucking menu.

            “I’ll just have a French vanilla latte and a cinnamon bun,” Suga said unhappily. It wasn’t a proper meal at all. He should have gotten what Daichi ordered—if he had heard what Daichi ordered

            He was probably embarrassing him.

            “Alright, I’ll be right out with your drinks,” the waitress said happily, whisking away.  

            “Suga,” Daichi said in a low voice, leaning on the table. “You’re okay, alright? Just take a breath and try to relax.”  

            Suga’s face flushed red in embarrassment. He swallowed and looked down, feeling ridiculous. Nothing was going to be the same again. It was different, and uncomfortable.

            The man had cursed him when he filled him with his cum.

            “When she comes back, I’ll ask for a spare plate and we can share my food,” Daichi offered.

            “No, Daichi…” Suga started weakly. “You need to eat too. I’ll be fine with a cinnamon bun. I wouldn’t be able to finish a whole meal anyways; it would just be a waste of money.” He nervously rubbed the inside of his scarred arm, picking at the edge of a scab.

            Daichi stared at his boyfriend for a few seconds before switching the topic of the conversation. “So, what’s your tutor coming to help you with?”

            “Pretty much everything,” Suga said quietly. “I’m behind in all my subjects. I’ve definitely lost my chance of getting any scholarships this year. I’ll be lucky if I graduate with you guys.”

            “Well, why don’t I start coming over after school some days to help you with homework and studying for the final exams?” suggested Daichi. The waitress came back with their drinks and placed them down in front of them. Daichi opened a straw package and popped it into his Pepsi. “There’s no way I’m graduating without you.”

            He felt like a wreck. He was a wreck. And suddenly he wanted to shut everything and everyone else out. He didn’t think he was going to be able to do finals, he didn’t think he was going to be able to do anything anymore. He wanted to push everything out.

            “Would that be okay?” Daichi repeated. “Me, coming over to help you prepare for finals?”

            Suga smiled down at his latte, a small, toothless smile and responded, “Yeah, I would like that.” He wanted to push everything out but Daichi.

〚 53 〛

            Suga was just about asleep when he heard the scrape of a door in his subconscious mind, but his limbs were heavy and his eyes glued shut from the sleeping pills his mom had gotten him. He ignored it, unable to rouse any sort of fear in his body.

            But then his body rolled as the bed dipped and a hand pressed over his mouth. Instantly, Suga’s eyes flew open and he jolted awake. His body was pinned down by a man above him. The man, straddling his hips. One hand over his mouth, the other one already under his shirt.

            “You should always check your closet for monsters, Koushi,” the man breathed hotly, grinding his hips down.

            Suga gripped the man’s hand, trying to pull it off of his nipples. His heart was thundering in his chest and then all of the sudden, he was back on the park grounds, beneath the cherry blossom trees, naked.

            Suga screamed as loud as he could from beneath the man’s hand. He felt sobs welling up as a bundle in his chest as the man pinched his nipple painfully hard. Suga moved his own hands and dug his nails into the man’s arm over his face. He scraped and tugged. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe. The man was covering his mouth and nose.

            Don’t kill me, please, don’t kill me.

            I don’t want to d i e .

            “Fuck, I’ve thought about fucking you raw every night since I first saw you. The first time was good, but I want this time to be so much better.”

            Suga bucked. He slapped. He hit. He scratched. But it was as if the man couldn’t feel any of it. He snapped his head to the side, freeing his mouth, and screamed as loud as his lungs would allow.

            And then it felt like a rock was slammed against his face. The man’s fist, full of rings, scraped his head and then wrapped around his neck, choking out the last of Suga’s screaming. But then, the bedroom door cracked open and the lights turned on.

            It felt like Suga’s eyes were going to pop out of his head and dangle from their sockets. He couldn’t breathe. His trachea was being crushed, the man’s nails digging into his neck.

            “Get off of him! Get off of him!” Suga’s mom screamed hoarsely. Suddenly she was there, tugging at the man’s shoulders viciously, screaming. Suga’s vision was fuzzing.

            “Get the hell off of my son!” She grabbed the desk chair and swung it, connecting solidly with the man’s upper half. He jolted back and fell off the bed. Suga’s mom grabbed him and ungracefully pulled him off the bed as well.

            Suga coughed. Blood was trickling down his neck and his cheek felt like it was swelling. From the other side of the bed, the man didn’t reappear. Was he unconscious? Was he waiting for them to leave so he could escape?

            Suga bent over at the waist and vomited, still unable to breathe. His diaphragm was spasming, unable to gather a proper breath for him. He was shaking. He was shaking.

            He was shaking so badly his entire body was going to crumble to dust.

            “Downstairs, Koushi, go downstairs with your sister,” his mom said, her voice quaking. Suga inhaled a hiccupped breath and coughed it out. He didn’t move.

            “Not without you,” he wheezed. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he wasn’t leaving his mom. Not with HIM.

            The two of them stared at the space above the bed, waiting for him to pop up.

            And then, “Your son feels wonderful, Mrs. Sugawara… So warm… and tight… and wet… It was better than a pussy. Imagine it, Mrs. Sugawara… Imagine Sawamura touching your son and fucking him until he bleeds. …tastes wonderful.”

            “Shut the hell up,” Suga’s mom whispered. Her fists and jaw were clenched, and she was trembling with rage. “Koushi, get downstairs right now.”

            “You were going to be mine, Koushi,” the man said. Finally, he sat up. Blood was glistening on his chin, dripping from his mouth like a vampire. “We were going to get married and you were going to have my children. You were mine.”

            Police sirens screamed in the distance.

            “If you move an inch from that spot, I won’t hesitate to hit you again,” Suga’s mom threatened. She had a protective arm outstretched in front of Suga, despite being a good six inches shorter.

            “Don’t worry, sweetheart…” the man said, blood bubbling from his lips. “I’m happy with the damage I’ve caused. Trust me, your Koushi won’t be the same Koushi you raised. He’s mine now. Shit, I would have loved to feel his insides one last time though. He’s a good little slut—“

            “Shut up! I told you to shut the fuck up!”

            Suga stared at the man. The feel of the man’s cock inside of him hadn’t left him. He could still feel the tearing, the burning pain. And he was right. Suga wasn’t ever going to be the same person as he was. This changed everything about him.

            “Mom? Kou?” Hiroko’s voice called from the hall.

            The man dropped down again, laughing roughly. “All your children are beautiful, Mrs. Sugawara. But, it was a pleasure to make Kou my last.”

            Suga’s head was spinning, as was his stomach. He still couldn’t breathe.

            “Kou, come here,” Hiroko said, appearing at the doorway. She was dishevelled in her night clothes. She was pale, her eyes scared. Her outstretched hand was shaking.

            And then, suddenly, the man was moaning and pushing himself to his feet. “No, Kou, come to me for a minute,” he said, his tongue swiping his bottom lip. “Yeah, that’s gonna scar,” he huffed, referring to the gash just below Suga’s left eye.

            “Don’t you take another step,” Suga’s mom said, eyeing the man.

            He stepped forward again, and Suga and his mom stepped back. “Don’t worry, ma’am, I’d just like a drink of water. Wash the blood out of my mouth.”

            He swept by both of them, but Hiroko stood in the doorway. He reached towards her and Suga flinched when his mom grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled with a kind of force that a threatened mother could possess.

            “Ah, you fucking bitch,” the man swore as he stumbled backwards, nearly losing his footing.

            And then Suga’s chest iced over with fear as the man grabbed a fistful of his mom’s hair, yanking her down with a yelp. He was sure they were going to die. Hiroko screamed something, his mom was yelling at both of them to get out to the street, and Suga stood paralyzed, unable to see out of his left eye.

            Red, blue and white flashed from out the window. Suga’s mind was screaming and expanding. Sirens, screaming, shouting, flashing lights, screaming, sirens, flashing lights, sirens, shouting, screaminglightsscreaminglightssirensshouting SCREAMING LIGHTS FLASHING SHOUTING SIRENS LIGHTS SCREAMING—

                                        _ _   ______ _ ___             _ _ _     _     _____________ _ _   -

          “Let go of the woman, and put your hands on your head and get down on your knees! Now!”

            The man threw Suga’s mom towards the police officer at the doorway and rose his hands.

            He had an erection.

            Suga’s mom crawled out of the room, half dragged out by Hiroko.

            And then it was Suga, still paralyzed by his desk, the man with a tent in his trousers and the police officer, pointing his gun at the man.

            “Kid, I want you to back up against the wall and slowly make your way over to me, alright?”

            The man had Suga pinned down.

            “Koushi, baby, come here,” his mom said quietly, her voice hoarse. “You’re okay. You’re okay. Just do what the officer said to do. Everything’s going to be okay, baby.”

            “Mm, one thing before you go, babe,” the man said slyly. “I left a little treat for you in the closet. Just something a few of the other’s have enjoyed in the past.”

            Suga looked at the officer, who still had his eyes glued to the man. There were more sirens coming. More lights.

            “Koushi, don’t listen to him,” his mom whispered. “Please, baby, please, come here.”

            His heart was in his throat.

            “Go look—“

            “Hey!” the officer barked. “Shut your trap! Another word from you and I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger.”

            “Takahiro, I’ve got cuffs.”

            Another officer, a woman, entered the room and pulled the man’s hands down behind his back, repeating his rights to him. Once he was cuffed, the other officer put his gun in his holster and took the man away.

            “Hey, there,” the female officer said gently, turning to Suga. “You wanna come down with me? We’ll get you in an ambulance with your mom and sister.”

            Suga didn’t feel like he was there.

            “Koushi, that’s your name right?”

            Suga looked at her and subtly nodded. He was going to throw up again.

            “Alright, Koushi, that man is never going to hurt you again, okay? We’re going to make sure he never sees the light of day. You’ve got to trust us. Do you trust me?”

            Suga nodded again.

            And then he let her guide him down the stairs, out of the house, and into the back of an ambulance. His mom immediately burst into tears and engulfed him in a hug. From the back of the ambulance, he could see the man’s figure in the back of the police cruiser.

            Then the doors closed, and that was the last of him that Suga saw.

〚 58 - 72 〛

            Over the next two weeks Suga walked the halls of school with bruises around his neck and a swollen, stitched eye. He was questioned by the police. Daichi came over almost every day after school to help Suga study, but Suga’s mind was elsewhere. Daichi and Tanaka installed new locks on Suga’s window and door, and Hiroko and their mom bought new paint, a new bed spread, new pillows, a new desk and chair, and dozens of other little things to make Suga’s room ‘new’.

            Even with the new locks, new room, and the man in jail, Suga couldn’t sleep at night.

            The kids came home. The twins were informed of what had happened. Tamiko was not, but she could tell that there was something different. The baby had started teething and screamed most nights.

            At the end of the first week, Suga’s mother was told by the police that the man had committed suicide in his cell—he had wiggled a screw loose and dug it up the length of his forearms—and there would be no trial.

            The man was dead, and Suga still refused to leave the house alone.

            His grades were still suffering. The tutor was helping—while she was tutoring. Suga knew what he was doing, he understood everything when she was sitting at the kitchen table helping him, but at school Suga couldn’t even get 5% of his mind to work well enough to bring his grades up even a little bit.

            On June 13, his birthday, Hiroko and the kids bought him two birds—canaries, a blue and yellow one. He named them Monet (blue) and Angelo (yellow).

            On June 15, exams started. Suga tripped his way through every single one of them, having a breakdown every night, knowing he wasn’t going to graduate with his friends. Volleyball was over. Suga missed the last thirteen practices. He didn’t go to the windup.

            On June 22, Suga’s mother got a call from the school informing her that he had failed four of his classes and would either have to repeat, or take them over the summer.

            He missed the graduation ceremony. He should have gone for Daichi, and Asahi, and Kiyoko, but he couldn’t get out of bed. He felt even worse when they showed up afterwards, trying to cheer him up.

            Daichi was going to Tokyo for university; Kiyoko was going abroad to England to study; and Asahi was remaining in Miyagi, working for Ukai until he solidified some plans.

Suga was also remaining in Miyagi, getting his high school credits online at home with his birds.

 〚 124 〛

            “I can’t see you.”

            “Huh? Oh, ha, I forgot to take the sticky note off of my camera,” Daichi’s detached voice said. The black screen shifted and then his face came into view, a little pixelated, but there. “Government’s always watching, you know? Laptop cameras freak me out.”

            Suga wondered if Daichi could tell how thin he’d gotten through the screen.

            “So, how’re things over there? Have you talked to Asahi lately?”

            “Not really…” Suga answered sheepishly. “I talk more to my birds than I do real people, to be honest. I’m just kind of focused on getting these courses done.” He paused and swivelled on his desk chair. “What about you? How’s Tokyo?”

            Daichi scratched the back of his head and looked over. “Pretty loud. My dorm is pretty small too. I’m hoping I can get an apartment nearby by the end of the year. Here, let me show you my new nest.”

            The laptop swooped and spun as Daichi picked it up and swung it around. Suga could see a door, a cramped desk, and a closet.

            “I’m sitting on my bed with my back against the opposite wall of the door, just to give you an idea of how spacious it is in here,” Daichi’s voice said. “But that’s college life for me, I guess.”

            Suga sniffed and rubbed his nose with a dry, cracked hand. He shivered despite wearing a large sweater. It was nearing the end of October and the temperature was dropping.

            “So, how’re the birds doing? Talk to me. Tell me anything. I’m lonely out here,” Daichi said, turning the camera back to him. He was wearing a muscle shirt, arms crossed. He didn’t seem cold at all.

            “They’re good. Do you want to see them? I made a bigger cage for them. With you gone I don’t really… Get out. Hiroko said I need something to fill my time asides from school and sleeping. So I made a cage.” Suga got off his desk chair and went to the bird cage, clicking open the doors. The two canaries chirped and fluttered their wings. Did Daichi really want to hear about how horribly Suga had been actually doing?

            He returned to the computer with the two birds, Angelo on his shoulder and Monet on a finger. “I’ve taught them to ring a bell when they’re out of food or water.”

            What else did he tell Daichi? Ever since he left for Tokyo, Suga barely spoke to anyone. He walked around his house as a mute because he had nothing to say. He’d lost all interest in everything, conversing included. He spoke more to the birds and the baby because they couldn’t respond.

            “How are the classes going? Are you able to keep up with the deadlines?”

            Suga thought about the question. “I haven’t gotten a grade above seventy-five yet. I don’t really care to try any harder. I don’t need my high school diploma anyways.”

            Daichi frowned. “What about your tutor? Isn’t she helping?”

            “Yeah, but I don’t care. It’s too much effort to bother trying. Getting out of bed is too much effort—let alone getting dressed and keeping up with courses I’ll never use.”

            “Kou, your mom is paying for those classes and the tutor. Don’t let it flop.”

            Suga flinched when Angelo fluttered his wings and clawed his way onto Suga’s head, nesting in his hair. He put Monet on his shoulder and let his hands drop, saying with a tight voice, “The doctor says I’m depressed, Daichi. I don’t care about anything. I just want to sleep all day. My mom wants to get me drugs. Next thing you know, she’s going to dump me into a mental hospital and have me sedated like my dad.”

            “Don’t talk like that…” Daichi said. “You know that your mom didn’t want to do that, she tried to handle him herself but you know she had to prioritize you and your siblings’ safety over him when he started getting dangerous. You’re nothing like him. Antidepressants might really help you.”

            “I know,” Suga whispered. “I’m just frustrated. I feel like I have no control over anything anymore.”

            “I’ll be back for Christmas,” Daichi responded softly. His eyes flicked over the screen. “I miss you. We’ll make some plans for when I come back so you have something to look forward to.”

            Suga lowered his own eyes to his hands, running his fingers over the cracked and bleeding skin. “Daichi… Can I- Can I ask you something? Something really big.”

            “Yeah?”

            Suga folded his shaking hands together and tried to unknot the bundle of anxiety in his chest. “Do you think that, um, once I finish my classes… Do you think we can move into an apartment in Tokyo? You were saying how you were hoping you would be in one by the end of the year, and I would get a job and help pay rent. We can even have separate rooms if you want. I just- I need to get out of- of my own house. I know he’s dead, but…” Suga’s heart shuddered and he felt his vision blacken, tunnelling. “I can’t stay here. Bad memories and stuff, whatever.”

            “So you want a fresh start in Tokyo?” Daichi said, completing Suga’s thought.

            “Yeah, but if you don’t want to that’s fine. I can get my own apartment. I was just thinking it would split the cost and- and I just- No don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have brought it up. You have college to focus on and—“

            Daichi laughed. “Kou, god, I fucking love you, you know that right? Of course we can get an apartment. I would love that. You can put Miyagi behind you and start fresh here. We’ll make it a goal to get an apartment by next summer. But you’ll need to get a job, right?”

            “Yeah, of course,” Suga said, shocked by Daichi’s reaction. “I’ll have- I’ll have Hiro help me with a resume.”

            Daichi once again was silent, studying Suga through the screen with a small smile on his lips. Suga quickly averted eye contact and reached a hand up, pulling the yellow bird off of his head.

            “I want to kiss you really bad right now,” Daichi mumbled. “I don’t like not seeing you in person. I’m worried you’re just going to drop off contact suddenly and I’ll have no idea why. You don’t seem ‘here’ through the screen.”

            “I’m here,” Suga responded weakly. “We text every day, Dai. I’m okay, you don’t have to be worried.”

            “Is that true though? You were just saying how you can barely get out of bed in the mornings because you’re so depressed. When we text you don’t tell me how you’ve been doing, you always focus on what you’ve been doing. Are you okay?”

            Suga put the two birds onto his desk, mulling over the question.

            “I’m more okay than I have been previously, I guess,” Suga shrugged. “Um, I guess I’m coping? I don’t really know what to tell you. To me, I think I’m doing fantastic. I don’t cry every day and sometimes I even laugh. No one else seems to agree with me when I say I’m okay, though, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

            “Have you been eating? Has your weight gone up?”

            “…No.”

            “Do you go out? With your mom, or the kids, or Hiroko, or anyone?”

            “No, but I’m fi—“

            “Do you have any sort of hobby?”

            “I have my birds.”

            “That’s not a hobby, Suga.”

            Suga frowned, suddenly feeling attacked. “I was feeling good about myself until you started picking me apart.”

            Daichi was burning a whole through the camera at Suga. “Have you been hurting yourself?”

            “No,” Suga said, but as the word left his mouth he began to wonder if picking at his own skin until he bled classified as self-harm. “I’m not hurting myself. I just- I just have a few anxious ticks is all. I’m not actively seeking out razors and slicing up my wrists if that’s what you’re getting at.”

            “It’s been less than half a year since you almost killed yourself,” Daichi’s voice caught and suddenly Suga was feeling less defensive, staring at his boyfriend’s scowling face through the screen. “I know you were- I know you were just a little bit delusional or whatever when that happened, but I’m still scared that you were trying to kill yourself. And I’m scared you’re going to do it again and this time I’m not going to be there.”

            “Koushi? Honey, it’s time for lunch.”

            Suga glanced over at his closed door. “Uh, yeah, I- I just have to say goodbye to Daichi. I’ll be down in a second.”

            “Were you trying to kill yourself?” Daichi asked.

            “No,” Suga answered, shaking his head. “I was just out of control and I was scared and cut too deep.”

            Daichi pressed his fingers into his eyes. “And you meant to hurt yourself? That time, you actively sought out the razors? You didn’t just go to the washroom and stumble across my razors and think you’d maybe try out cutting?”

            “No, I was trying to hurt myself,” Suga said quietly. “I was scared, Daichi. But I wouldn’t do that again. I didn’t know what to do so I… I’m not going to do it again.”

            This time, it was Suga’s turn to study Daichi—to examine his furrowed brow and tensed jaw. He wanted to reach through and hug him. Suga didn’t want to hurt Daichi. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

            “I was scared too, Suga,” Daichi croaked. “I was scared when you told me what had happened, what was happening; I was scared when your mom brought you to my house because he’d been in your room again; I was terrified when your sister found you in the tub and I was terrified when we took you to the hospital; and I was scared when I found out what happened the night he was arrested. I’m scared now because I’m here and you’re there and if something were to happen, I can’t be there in a split second.”

            “Koushi!” his mom’s voice called.

            Suga couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. Through the screen, out of his reach, was Daichi—crumpling. The birds were chirping, screaming for attention. Suga’s chest had caved in. His hands had cracked apart and chipped to the floor.

            He was cold. He wanted to hug Daichi; he wanted Daichi to wrap himself around him.

            “I’m okay,” Suga choked out. He cleared his throat. “I’m okay, Dai, I promise. I’ll try harder. I’ll- I’ll- I’ll go see Asahi. And I’ll- I’m going to get a job, right? I’ll get better. I don’t want to hurt myself, I swear. And- And he’s dead. He’s dead. He killed himself in his cell, right? I’m fine, see? Please, please, please, don’t be- don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

            Daichi heaved a big breath and removed his hand from his face. He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t crying, taking Suga by surprise.

            Because Daichi was a rock. He was Suga’s rock.

            “Daichi, I have to go for lunch,” Suga said, almost apologetically. “I’ll try harder. I’ll start eating and working out again. I’ll bring my weight up again.”

            “Let’s make a deal. If you work out, I’ll try to get down to the gym regularly as well. College has made me a bit soft around the edges,” Daichi said, cracking a smile.

            Suga squinted. “What are you talking about? You look like a fricking god. You’re all tanned and buff.”

            Daichi laughed, a warm, comforting sound. “Oh, oh boy, you just can’t see below my waist. I’ve developed some lovely thunder thighs and a soft tummy.”

            Suga scrunched his nose up and tried to smother a smile of his own, scoffing. “You’re not even allowed to talk to me about being ‘out of shape’. You and your thighs can talk to me again when you decide to not skip leg day. I’m going for lunch now. Goodbye, I love you, and I hope you have fun in your box of a room, all the way in Tokyo city, being tanned and muscular, you prick.”

            “Love you too, Suga,” Daichi said, chuckling, lifting a hand and cutting the call.

〚 404 〛

            The apartment was on the fifth floor. There were two windows—one in the living room, and one above the sink in the kitchen. Outside of the window in the living room was the fire escape. It didn’t have a lock on it. Suga didn’t want to mention it to Daichi, he didn’t want to complain about the apartment—Daichi had spent a while searching for one that was affordable. The window in the kitchen didn’t open at all. The door had a deadbolt and a chain lock on it. There were two bedrooms—neither one of them had lockable doors.

            Suga again didn’t want to say anything, worried that he would sound needy.

            The birds were in the spare bedroom most of the time, and Daichi and Suga were sharing the master bedroom. Daichi was free of college for two months and Suga was still anxiously unsure of what he wanted to do with his life. He needed to find a job, first of all, but Tokyo was a lot more terrifyingly huge than he’d originally thought.

            It was a big city. One rape in his hometown was big news, but rapes probably happened every night here. And it was likely that nobody cared.

            The first night in Tokyo Suga spent having an anxiety attack over the fact that there were probably hundreds of rapists, murderers, stalkers, and so forth in this one city. And Suga knew that rape victims had a higher chance (at least 35 times greater chance) of being assaulted again.

            So, the following morning, Suga dyed his hair brown and bought non-prescription glasses. Daichi went out and bought new doorknobs for the apartment bedrooms—ones that locked.

            Suga barely left the apartment the first week in Tokyo. At night, he couldn’t sleep for any longer than 2 hours without waking up and having to check the locks. He thought that leaving Miyagi would help him, but somehow, he seemed to be getting worse. It had been over a year since that night and somehow, he was getting worse.

            By the end of the first month, Daichi took Suga to the doctor and it didn’t take much for the doctor to prescribe him some antidepressants. Time, and time again, Daichi remained patient with Suga, even though he was more than a handful and his weight hadn’t gone up more than ten pounds. Daichi never got fed up with him, and he was even going as far as making Suga’s meals and dragging him to the gym with him.  

            Eventually, with the help of the antidepressants and Daichi, Suga started getting out of the house more. He couldn’t pay his half of the rent the first month, and he had yet another anxiety attack over his lack of income and lack of purpose. So, Daichi took things into his own hands and with Suga’s permission, handed in resumes to appropriate places on his behalf.

            Within the week, a call came in. The display on his cellphone had the name of a small local bakery. Daichi was sitting beside him when the call came in.

            Suga just stared at the number.

            “Are you going to answer it?” Daichi asked, glancing at Suga.

            Suga frowned. “I’m not ready. I’ll call back. This… This was too sudden. I don’t feel like I have control. I’ll call back.”

            The ringing stopped.

            “Okay, but make sure you do before they close tonight,” Daichi said.

            Suga nodded, flipping his phone over and hiding the screen, and repeated, “Yeah, I’ll call back.”

He swallowed thickly and fell into Daichi’s lap, curling his legs up onto the sofa. Daichi slid his fingers into Suga’s brown hair, massaging his scalp.

            “You’re doing really well,” Daichi said gently. “At lot better than I thought you would moving out here. And it’ll on keep getting better once you get a job. You’ll meet some people and make some friends, and you’ll get your life on track again. You’ll forget everything that happened last year.”

            Suga pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto the floor. “Forgetting it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. And my hair’s still brown.”

            Daichi glanced down at Suga. “We can dye it back if you want. And sure, it still happened, but you can’t let it hold you back forever, right? So, you’re going to call back the bakery and set up an interview date. That’s the first big step you need to take. And once you have a job and are comfortable with that step, we’ll introduce the next thing.”

            “What’s the next thing?” Suga asked, gripping Daichi’s hand in his hair.

            “Post secondary schooling, maybe. A long-term hobby—like learn to play an instrument or write a book, or whatnot. We’ll worry about that later. You just need something to fill your time with,” Daichi shrugged. “Baby steps. It’s no use getting overwhelmed.”

            Suga thought about that, staring across the living room at the bird tree, Monet and Angelo happily hopping around. Daichi had a lot more faith in him than he had in himself. Baby steps was a faster pace than what Suga was at. He was shuffling. He felt like he was getting worse, so much so that he’d avoided calling his mom, or picking up any of her calls to him.

            His breathing stuttered.

            “What do I say?” he asked.

            “Huh?” Daichi looked down, stilling his hands.

            “When I call the bakery back. What should I say?” Suga wondered.

            He was going to be nineteen soon, almost twenty. The mere idea of getting a job terrified him, but he wasn’t going to let Daichi pay the rent forever. He was going to have to stop shuffling along and just take the plunge.

            “Ask for Azumi, she’s the manager. Let her know who you are, apologize for not being able to pick up the phone earlier, and ask what a good time for an interview would be,” Daichi explained. He helped Suga sit back up. “I talked with her a little bit before. She’s super nice and thrilled that someone applied. I’m assuming there hasn’t been much of a staff switch up for a while there. She’ll love you.”

            Suga shot Daichi a doubtful look, but flipped his phone back over and opened up his missed calls. His bit down on his thumbnail, hesitating. And then he gently tapped the number and put the phone up to his ear, listening to a dead line for a few anxious seconds before the first tone of a ring went through.