Love Me In Secret (Asanoya)

Chapter 6: Checkmate

Asahi's POV

        Around 4:00 Nishinoya got a call from Sugawara, so he had to leave to the kitchen to talk. I'm not sure why he had to leave, since we both know Suga, and I don't think they would discuss anything private. Maybe Nishinoya had to complain about how I made him sit on the couch— right next to me (but that wasn't my fault)— and about how I didn't let him leave to the kitchen.
         Whether he was complaining or not, I didn't like the fact the Sugawara was taking my time away from Nishinoya. Sure, I was sick and probably should have been resting anyways, but Nishinoya was with me. Not Suga.
        I heard Nishinoya walking back from the kitchen, wrapping up his phone call.
         "Ok. Thank you so much— I appreciate this so much! Ok, bye!" he spoke quietly but also excitedly at the same time, finally hanging up when he walked into the living room. I was. Facing in his direction, so I watched as he walked back into the room and sat down on the couch beside me, his leg brushing up against my tucked-in feet.
         My cheeks went warm, but I quickly remembered what I needed to do, and got down to business.
         "Why did Suga call?" I asked with an accidental hint of aggression in my voice. Well, I mean as aggressive as a sick person can sound.
         First he looked at me with his eyes as wide as a glass cup's rim, but then he turned away quickly and grabbed another blanket off the back of the couch.
       Damn it. I didn't mean to be interrogative.
       "He was... um... calling to see if you were ok!" He didn't turn back to me. "I just told him you were doing a little better and that... that you tried to eat something earlier!"
        That was true. I did try and eat a slice of bread with butter on it, but obviously my stomach disagreed and I... well... guess the rest.
        "Oh. Well it's all thanks to you that I'm getting better," my voice faltered at the end, running out of breath.
        Nishinoya whipped his head around towards me again, flashing a toothy grin.
       "Great!" He told me enthusiastically. "Hopefully you'll be better tomorrow, or at least fit to go to school on Monday. Everything will be so dull without our ace during practice," Nishinoya replied in a matter-of-fact kind of way, making my cheeks go warm.
        Nishinoya, who was still holding his phone, turned it on and checked the time. It was 4:37. My mom wasn't home until 6:30.
        "Oh, it's already almost five o' clock. Your mom will be home soon, right? I don't want to leave you all by yourself— not when you're like... like..." he gestures towards me. Me and my sick self.
I don't want to be left alone either. I thought.
        "Will your parents mind if you stay a bit longer? I really don't want to be alone. I..." I didn't want to admit it. "I like being taken care of... when I'm this... uh... weak."
        It was more of a confession than anything else. I didn't like to appear weak and helpless, but I felt like I could be vulnerable around Nishinoya. Besides, I'm already only wearing underwear. Might as well confess this as well. 
        I mean, it's not like he doesn't know I have weaknesses. He was one of the first people I have ever told about... about my Oji-san (uncle). I remember it like it was yesterday...

       "Asahi! What's wrong?! Are you... crying?" His voice softened at the end upon seeing my tears while I squished myself in between the wall and the vending machine after school. It was badly raining that day— it was pouring rain the size of cats and dogs as the saying goes. The thunder boomed every time the jagged lightning had struck the ground. The sound drowned my ears, and I needed to hide.
        I couldn't look up at Nishinoya. Well this is just stellar. Just fantastic. First I have a mental breakdown between a vending machine and a stupid wall, and now the one person who didn't need to see me like this— probably the only person left in the school other than me— found me hiding. Hiding from thunder. How pathetic am I? How pathetic does he think I am?
       I felt a warm hand on the top of my knee, close to where I was burying my face into. The touch of someone else while I was breaking down was... settling to me.
        Finally, although going against what my head was telling me, I let my eyes peak out from my own little cave of arms and looked at a blurry Nishinoya through my tears. I trembled before him, not being able to stop— worried that he was judging, criticizing, thinking what a coward.
       He crouched down in front of me with only compassion filling his eyes. I had never seen him so caring.
       "You can tell me what's wrong. I don't have any right to judge you for why you are upset," Nishinoya's usual loud, harsh and ecstatic voice had disintegrated into a new quiet, gentle voice; one that I could easily admit to what was wrong.
        I sniffled, blinking out another wave of tears and wiping them off with my sleeve. At first, the words were lodged in my throat. They wouldn't come out at all. I just sat there trying to calm my breathing down, trying to shove the words out of my mouth, but nothing.
        He just sat there and waited, listening with endless patience for me.
Crack! BOOM! A sudden strike of lightning bombarded the ground, sending out a wave of thunder that shook the building. The lights flickered for a solid five seconds. I threw my arms over my head, clutching fistfuls of my own hair in each of my hands and compressing myself into a smaller ball of fear.
       I breathed out a sob.
       No! Please! No...! Help...
       "Oh... thunder," Nishinoya mumbled to himself. After that he was quiet, with only the sound of the rain pattering against the windows and outside walls remaining.
       I heard as Nishinoya shifted his position again, then felt his hand reach up to my shoulder and rest it there. He used his other hand to pry my right hand off my own hair. I let both of my hands go and rested them on my head. My scalp stung with the pain of me pulling my own hair, but that was not what was important.
        Out of nowhere, it seemed as if the clog in my throat was gone, and a sudden pool of jumbled up, sobbing words came flying out of my mouth to tell the story of why I was afraid of thunder. I'm surprised Nishinoya was even able to understand what I was saying, considering how much I was stuttering and how tears poured down my cheeks.
       He ended up calling his mom to pick us up, and she dropped me off at my house that night. Nishinoya wouldn't stop texting me, and I wouldn't stop texting back until around 3:00 in the morning. I am relieved that he actually had listened to me, that he had helped me. I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't.