Shard Society [Haikyuu!!] | ✔

The Tale of Sakusa (1)

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xXx

May 14th, 2018

It had been harder and harder for Sakusa to sleep as of late. Nightmares aside, the ability of simply falling asleep evaded him, existing just out of reach from his limber hands. So he got up sometime past one in the morning, made himself a cup of warm almond milk, and shuffled to the balcony. The air was bitingly cold outside, but Sakusa stayed there anyway, elbows propped on the railing. His nightshirt, which was just an over-sized long-sleeved sweatshirt the shade of an unripe banana, hung loosely on his frame, occasionally tickling his abdomen.

Basking in the quiet, Sakusa sipped on his milk.

He lived in a rather secluded area in the city, his house built on the top of a small hill. As he drank, he could hear the faint honking of cars in the distance. Tokyo didn't sleep. Big cities normally didn't.

Atsumu had been an excellent distraction all day. It was evident, from both his story and his actions, that he hadn't had anyone to spend the day with like they had today for a long, long time. Maybe Atsumu had pretended Sakusa was Osamu when he deposited an armful of off-brand toothpaste into the shopping cart this afternoon. He couldn't know for sure, but it was on the table.

But now that he was not here—instead in the next room—Sakusa was free to let his mind wander in undesirable directions.

He clutched his mug tightly, not even caring that the heat radiating from the ceramic was starting to burn his palm.

I miss you.

His absence made him feel small. Vulnerable. And while Sakusa did not like being either of those things, it was undeniably true.

Komori.

He missed him more than ever.

Komori wasn't even his first name. No, his first name had been Motoya, but Sakusa had always called him Komori.

If Komori were still here, he would have never, ever felt this alone. It wounded his pride to admit it, but Komori had been a steadying presence in his life. And when he had passed, Sakusa had unraveled like yarn.

Sometimes, he liked to think what he could have changed. What decisions he could have made to stop the people around him from disappearing forever from his life. It was a useless adventure—logically, Sakusa knew this. But it was one he could not help but indulge in, anyway, from time to time.

You would've known what to do. Sakusa stared out into the night. From here, he could see the stars. A rare sight, especially in a metropolis like Tokyo. What to say. Maybe, you could've even stopped Goshiki from—

No. No, no, no. He would not entertain that thought. It was too dangerous. Too dangerous and awful and plain disrespectful to everyone involved.

Goshiki.

Goshiki.

His falling figure still haunted his dreams, eyes blown wide and hand reaching for the purple sky—a hand Sakusa would have never been able to catch. He'd been so hurt. Shattered to the point where he had thought it would be better to end his life than to continue living it.

Just like my father.

What had been going through their heads? Sakusa didn't understand. Didn't want to understand, because a tiny part of him feared that he, too, would point his toes toward that path if he understood.