Broken Like Me

Chapter Eighteen: Selfish

The doctor's voice seemed to drone on about the effect his attempt had on his arm.

"In surviving patients, the consequent effects on deep structures like arteries, nerves, and tendons can drastically impair hand function. However we don't believe your wounds hit any major nerves so if you don't over use it and let the stitches do their job I expect you to make a full recovery."

Kageyama did feel the slightest bit relieved that he hadn't fucked up his hand for good, but as his doctor prescribed him some medications his mind strayed back to thinking about Hinata. It's all he had done for the past two days, since a teary Hinata had stormed out of his room.

He was still stupidly hopeful every time someone opened the door. His eyes immediately searched for honey brown mixed with a flash of enthusiastic orange, only to be meet with constant disappointment instead. He huffed in frustration at himself, he was yearning for Hinata's presence, but he didn't know how to reach the other boy.

He wanted to know how Hinata was doing. His aching heart replayed the image of Hinata's tear streaked face, red rimmed wide eyes, his mouth's wobbly attempt at composure, the waver in his voice as he spoke. Kageyama held onto the image of the other boy's face, maybe if he forced himself to relive it then Hinata wouldn't have to suffer anymore.

Alas, he had to come to terms with his lack of mobility, he wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

His own selfishness hurt him more than anything else. Hating yourself is strangely a very self centered thing to do. He was so incapable of looking past his own suffering and misery. He was stuck making everything about himself —and his interactions with others— into reasons to hate himself. Which is an incredibly self centered way of viewing the world. The irony of being this self aware was that it served no purpose but pushing him into a self fulfilling prophecy. Realizing how self centered he was simply affirmed that he was a piece of shit, a terrible person, therefore the logical conclusion was that he should hate himself.

He supposed he could do better, he could decide to change so perhaps he wouldn't hate himself so much. He had the occasional itch to be a better person, the thought occurring to him on more hopeful days that perhaps he had the ability to not hate himself. But much like the itch emanating from his wounds wrapped under layers of gauze, his desire to change remained unscratched, out of reach to his restrained hands. The itch left untouched simply evolved into tortuous deep seated festering regret.

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Two days after Hinata's visit, Tanaka, Noya, Asahi, and Yamaguchi came to visit, much to Kageyama's surprise.

They were the same as ever. Noya's rambunctious presence served to dull the underlying tension of unsaid words that hung thickly over the room.

"So have you ever been bottyjuiced?" Noya said while leaning forward, a single eyebrow raised inquistely, a large mischievous grin plastered onto his impish face.

Kageyama blanched unsure what the hell Noya was implying.

Tanaka's roar of a laugh disrupted his thoughts. "Kageyama your face...." He slapped his knee with amusement, propping his elbow onto his seated legs for support.

Yamaguchi looked at him sympathetically and with a small smile of amusement he explained. "It's what happens when they are trying to sedate you, sometimes they have to put it ....up the butt....people call it booty juice." Yamaguchi explained awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, his face tinged a slight pink.

"No, I haven't." Replied Kageyama gruffely, frowning down at his lap. His bangs had grown out over his stay at the hospital, and he found them constantly falling into his eyes
"Well this bad boy over here has." Noya said slapping Tanaka on the back much to Tanaka's disdain.