A Completely Different Set-Up

8

TW: mentions and implications of: Suicide, Self-harm, and Medication

3rd Person POV

It was a Saturday and the team decided to follow Shoyo.

Like, for the whole week, it was an unspoken rule to not talk about what happened, which of course the ginger was grateful for. And so they acted like nothing happened... and yet the small side glances weren't at all unnoticed by the small middle blocker, yup, totally!

But he never thought they'd go this far. Like, why the hell were they stalking him so obviously? It was almost sad, really.

He just decided to just let them be. Let them do whatever the hell they wanted. He had other things to do and they weren't going to be a bother with how they were acting.

He was going to the studio and nothing was going to stop him.

Saeko's head bobbed up from the front desk as soon as he entered the building.

"Hey, I need a studio for about..until closing, is there any empty?" He put down the bag slung on his shoulder and grabbed a pen on the desk to sign the form. If he was going to be honest, he didn't mean to seem so...perturbed about the whole shabang, but here we are.

"Oh hey Sho! Great to see you again! Well, great news because we actually do today, so knock yourself out! You already know what to do so I'll just grab a key and locker number for ya." Saeko smiled brightly at the boy—in hopes of icing down the adrenaline junkie that was in his head—and Shoyo returned one in thanks and nodded, scribbling on his details on the paper, handing Saeko the amount he needed to pay for the rental.

"Okay, this time the room Sunflower, oh wow how fitting to your name," the desk lady scrunched her nose up in amusement, "That'll be in the west side by the way, with all the other perennial flowers."

"Cool. I'll see you Saeko, thanks!" He waved bye, bag in hand, walking away towards the room. Shoyo felt an itch up his spine and was still pretty sure he was being followed, hopefully they don't try to bother him in there at least. If they wanted to watch so bad they could've at least asked, but it was fine. Not like he can do anything about it now.

Shoyo's mind wandered elsewhere.

Grief is something really weird and terrifying. Mention that word to someone grieving and they'll feel that tightness in their chest, the weight of the world on their shoulders, and like they should be better than that and move on already.

But of course, everyone had their own ideas about the topic.

He knew there was a lot of suppressed and unpacked trauma he really needed to address, considering this wasn't the first instance and of course, this one sucked ass worse than the other times. Yeah, he should probably throw himself into a psych ward or something. As if he had time for that though. Oh well.

A sharp pain climbed through his torso.

He clutched at his chest, biting his inner cheek. He didn't want to seem like such a diva about it, he knew better than to succumb to whatever the hell he'd been feeling, but damn, being a teenager sure sucked ass.

God, this was going to go on forever, huh? Teenage angst and all that crap. Living life how he never envisioned it. How was everyone else so "YOLO" about everything. That sounds so....Maybe if he was strong enough—why is it always about strength? Every person has varying levels of strength, so why do some seem to move on so easily and then expect others to do the same?

She could've moved on if it were him who left, right? If it was him on that bed covered with a white cloth and not her...If it was him who wrote all those letters—Why wasn't it him?