For You, I Would

by inkypenguin12

Summary:

"Do we know their names?" He asked, clearing his throat to mask the slight strain in his voice.

 

"No. Let's take two cars-"

 

"But how did the caller know they were teachers?"

 

"She's the mother of one of the students. Now zip it, Sawamura! I'm talking," she raised her voice. "Let's take two cars, let's go. I have the address here."

 

He felt a light tap of his usual driving partner on his back and stood up. His stomach was heavy, his heartbeat skyrocketing. They both rushed to the car, and he was thankful the other sat behind the wheel. It gave him a chance to go on his phone and call Sugawara. The phone rang and rang, then sent him to voicemail. He texted, asking his best friend to call him, then tried ringing again. Voicemail.

 

**

After a car accident, Sugawara is left severely injured and partially blind. Sawamura steps in to take care of him while he slowly recovers.

Chapter 1

Sawamura waved away the same annoying fly for the third time. He let his eyes follow the little black dot as it zigzagged across the backroom of the police station, then looked up at the old clock ticking morosely above a window. The sun almost fully set, typical for a midwinter evening. It was five forty eight. In exactly twelve minutes, he could grab the bag by his feet and sign out for the day. 

 

That's when the phone rang. 

 

His coworker was quick to grab it. On the other end of the line, he could hear snippets of a distressed cry. He watched with building curiosity as the older woman's eyes grew wider.

 

"Can you confirm the address?" She asked, typing something on the computer. "I am transferring you to medical dispatch, they will provide instructions. I understand. Please, stay on the scene. I understand. Help will be there soon, please stay there."

 

She hung up and stood up, turning to the remaining policemen in the room. 

 

"Hit and run by Orange Sunrise elementary school. Two teachers were hit, male and female."

 

Sawamura's vision darkened. That's where Sugawara worked. 

 

"Do we know their names?" He asked, clearing his throat to mask the slight strain in his voice.

 

"No. Let's take two cars-"

 

"But how did the caller know they were teachers?"

 

"She's the mother of one of the students. Now zip it, Sawamura! I'm talking," she raised her voice. "Let's take two cars, let's go. I have the address here."

 

He felt a light tap of his usual driving partner on his back and stood up. His stomach was heavy, his heartbeat skyrocketing. They both rushed to the car, and he was thankful the other sat behind the wheel. It gave him a chance to go on his phone and call Sugawara. The phone rang and rang, then sent him to voicemail. He texted, asking his best friend to call him, then tried ringing again. Voicemail. 

 

"Are you okay?" His coworker asked, eyes jumping between him and the road. His name was Kaito. He was just a few years older than him, which had naturally drawn them to one another in a working space where most other employees were at least in their forties. "Who are you calling?"

 

"I..." he gulped, feeling close to throwing up. "My friend. He's a teacher there."

 

"Oh," the other muttered. "You should have said something back there. They might have paired me with someone else."

 

He was quiet and rubbed his temples, which were clammy with sweat. "He's not picking up."

 

"Look," Kaito resumed. "It's okay, I'm sure he's okay. It's a big school, right?"

 

Sawamura closed his eyes. No, it wasn't. From the outside, it could be mistaken for a house.

 

"We're five minutes away."

 

The rest of the ride was silent. They parked on the street and made their way through a small crowd, yelling for everyone to leave as they approached the crime scene. The voices echoed through his head like static, pulling him in all directions as faltering legs tried to rush forward.  Something cracked under his boots. Glass shards, glowing under the red ambulance lights. He looked ahead and took a step back when his eyes landed on a black bag being zipped up. 

 

His coworker pulled him to the side and yelled. "Come on, over here!"

 

Behind him, he saw three paramedics lifting someone onto a stretcher. Someone with ash blond hair.

 

"It's him," he inhaled sharply. "Oh, my-"

 

The car had driven into a store front, that's why glass was everywhere. Mixed in with the glass pieces on the ground were scattered puddles and splashes of blood. 

 

"Suga!" He called out, rushing to the stretcher. The other didn't respond.

 

He called again. Nothing. His vision was blurred with tears. 

 

Someone grabbed his arm.

 

"Go with him," Kaito said, almost as a command. "We'll handle the rest here."

 

He nodded with gratitude and ran to the ambulance, climbing in with the paramedics once the stretcher was placed inside. 

 

That's when he saw the state Sugawara was in, and it sucked all the air out of his lungs. The paramedics had cut his bloody cardigan and tossed it in a bag—one of his favorite ones, he'd had it since high school—exposing shards of glass piercing through his skin. His right wrist was dislocated to the side. Moving up, he saw the exposed clavicle bone and winced, fresh tears coming back to his eyes. Blood oozed from the wound.

 

Hesitantly, his eyes moved up to Sugawara's face. It was covered in thin streams of blood, which he soon realized didn't come from any major cuts. Instead, they flowed like tears from under slightly lifted eyelids.

 

"Suga?" He called out again. 

 

A wave of relief washed over him when he saw Sugawara's arm move, but as he opened his mouth to call again, the blond's chest moved up and his arm jerked back down.

 

"Seizure," one of the paramedics alerted.

 

* *

* *

 

Sawamura couldn't sleep. He spent all night at the hospital, only dozing off for a couple of minutes before Sugawara's younger brother arrived. 

 

He was all disheveled, wearing unmatched sweats that were probably what he could first reach for before rushing to the train station. The similarity between the two was quite striking; the younger's nose was slightly rounder and his eyes just a shade lighter, but if it wasn't for his short haircut they would be virtually identical from afar. The boy had come all the way from Tokyo, where he had just started university. He only brought a small green backpack—it was halfway closed and dangled off one of his shoulders as he ran towards the waiting room. 

 

"How is he?" Was the first thing the teen asked, eyes filled with tears.

 

A question he couldn't answer. Unconscious. In surgery. Imprinted in his mind was the ash blond's limp body being placed on the stretcher. His bent wrist, the protruding clavicle. And his eyes. His bloodied eyes, dark red streaming from them like continuous tears. 

 

He was glad Sugawara's brother hadn't seen him. 

 

All those sour memories flooded his mind as he mechanically filled out reports in one of the police station computers. It felt like an enormous, almost offensive waste of time, but his superiors had made it clear that he was not supposed to take part in his investigation. No matter how much he pleaded, how much he tried to reason, no one bulged. Kaito had come up to his desk a few times trying to make conversation, but with little success.

 

He didn't know if he should call Sugawara's loved ones. He'd assumed the hospital or his younger brother would have contacted their parents by then, but what about his friends? Should he let them find out through a newspaper side note, through word of mouth? Maybe they already knew. But wouldn't they have contacted him? Out of their entire high school friend group, he knew Sugawara had stayed close with many of them, mainly himself, Asahi, and Nishinoya. They would be devastated to find out. Maybe it was best they heard from him.

 

That was a decision to be made later. For now, it was six o'clock and he could clock out and head back to the hospital. 

 

He found Sugawara's younger brother by the coffee machine, looking down at his paper cup as it slowly filled with the steamy black liquid.

 

"Hey, Sota," he touched the boy's shoulder, who turned around to face him with a soft smile. He was only nineteen, but the sunken eyes made him look far older. 

 

"Hey," he grabbed his coffee. "Thanks for coming."

 

"How is he?"

 

The boy shrugged, blowing on his coffee. "He's sleeping right now. Surgery went well I guess."

 

Sawamura wanted to ask more questions, but he tried to acknowledge the frail state that boy was in. "Have you eaten? Where are your parents?"

 

"Well, my dad was in this conference in Sydney and he took my mom. Everything was booked, so are trying to fly back tonight." He took a sip of his coffee. "And yeah, I haven't eaten. I don't think I could, though." 

 

"Let me get you something in the cafeteria, yeah? You need to stay strong for him," he patted Sota's shoulder. "Just, if that's okay... Can I see him?"

 

The boy shrugged again. "Sure. He's sleeping though."

 

"I know."

 

"This way," he gestured back with his head, then turned around. "I'd tell you what to expect, but I guess you've seen the worst of it already."

 

The hallway was bright, long, and sterile. Nurses in turquoise uniforms walked patients in wheelchairs and crutches, steadily moving their IVs along. He held his breath when Sato opened one of the doors. The two made their way down the curtained slots, machines beeping and muffled sobs by each bed. 

 

"Here," the boy muttered, carefully pulling the curtain aside so Sawamura could walk in.

 

He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, a hand reaching back to a table so he could steady himself. 

 

His body was covered in bandages. A metal frame surrounded his thigh and knee, a large white cast immobilized his right lower arm. His entire left arm was immobilized, all the way up to his bandaged clavicle. There were needles taped to his arms, and tubes coming into his mouth. Above that, two fully bandaged eyes. 

 

"What did the doctors say?" Sawamura asked, caught by surprise by the shakiness in his own voice. "Is he... Is he going to be okay?"

 

Sato sighed and blinked out his tears. "Does he look like he's gonna be okay?" He pinched his nose and sighed again. "Sorry. But yeah, no. They said he'll need physical therapy. Like, lots pf physical therapy. And his eyes, he..."

 

The boy swallowed. 

 

"They said he'll probably lose a lot of his vision. There was glass in his eyes."

 

Sawamura knew. He'd seen the blood. He'd anticipated it all, but it still dizzied him to hear the boy say it all out loud.

 

"Do you think he-"

 

Both turned around when they heard chocking noises. Sugawara was gasping, trying to move his bandaged hands to his throat. 

 

"Oh, shit," Sato ran next to him. "He's awake! Get someone, he's awake!"

Chapter 2

Summary:

Next chapter will be longer👌

Sugawara's parents were in an airplane, just a few hours away from Japan. Even though they intended to drive straight to the hospital, it would still take them a while to arrive from the airport. Sato sat next to the bed, head rested on his folded arms. Sawamura had sat with him for the past few hours, and he was relieved to see the boy finally nap.

Sugawara was drifting in and out of consciousness, drowsily muttering nonsenses in-between his medication-induced sleep. The ash blond's skin was paler than ever, his usually barely noticeable freckles now visible, scattered across his nose bridge. A small middle aged nurse had just changed the thick bandages on his eyes, leaving a now pristine white cover over the injury. Sawamura had tried to peek while she changed the bandages, but the slightest sight of blood made him immediately dart his eyes away. Starting down at the floor while she finished, he remembered the red liquid oozing from under his friend's eyelids back in the ambulance. Torn wrist, tiny glass shards in his hair.

Part of him was relieved Sugawara was completely out of it. He didn't know how the other would react to his injuries, or to the death of his coworker. Maybe they should lie to him, wait until he left the hospital before telling him. He shook his head and swallowed. Maybe he would omit the information, but he didn't have it in him to lie to his best friend.

It was dark outside. Sawamura heard a branch scratch against the window. Somewhere across the room, someone coughed behind their curtains. A bit closer to them, someone tried to muffle gentle sobs.

Had it been a regular Thursday, they would be having Chinese takeout. During exam season, when Sugawara stayed until late at the school grading assignments and preparing report cards, Sawamura would show up with food and offer him a ride home. They would eat together in the empty classroom, or the teachers' room if they felt fancy. Their dinner meetings had begun a few months prior, on a week Sugawara was feeling particularly stressed out, and quickly evolved into a little tradition. Sawamura justified it by pointing out he had a car and Sugawara took the bus back home, so it was 'the least he could do.' Deep down, however, he knew it was also for his own sake. Adulthood was scary. His job was overwhelming, bills piled up, his father's health was declining. During those short dinner breaks, he could tune out of it all. His best friend was a good listener—he was bright, welcoming, refreshing. And always knew what to say.

Sawamura reached forward and gently touched Sugawara's arm, which lay limply over the thin, crinkled sheets. He felt cold. The brunet let his finger carefully trail a small bandage, moving down to stroke the skin below.

His vision blurred with fresh tears. Resting his hand now fully on the other's forearm, he hoped the warmth of his own skin could transfer to his best friend, a flow of energy that could help nurture him back to health. Sugawara seemed so peaceful, his chest rising and falling at a steady pace. The oxygen tubes rested on his face almost like ornaments. the ends blurring lightly with each exhale. Sawamura stroked a lock of silver hair to the side, away from the white bandages. They should be clear for when the nurse came again.

**
**

Sugawara was still out of it when his parents arrived. His mother looked frail, her eyes sunken with exhaustion. His father was stern, rigid, as if trying to contain himself from collapsing. From the wrinkles in their clothes, Sawamura could tell they had come straight from the airport.

The doctor explained everything to them. The concussion, fractures, seizure. The injury to his eyes. Sawamura let the doctor's voice fade into the background as he stared at his friend. He didn't want him to wake up. Not now, at least. He wanted to wait until his bones healed and the stitches were removed, until all they had to do was tell him what had happened rather than watch him suffer with the accident's aftermath. It didn't feel real. Minute by minute, the sadness in Sawamura's chest morphed into rage. He felt the warmth creeping up his neck and down to his fists. How could anyone have done this to him? Someone left him to die.

The nurse adjusted the medication dosage to wake him up. Sawamura almost wanted to move it back up, but he just sat and waited with the others until the ash blond began to shift and moan in discomfort. His wrists had been restrained, which the nurse had explained was a safety measure so he wouldn't try to remove his bandages or IVs immediately after waking up. While he understood the purpose, Sawamura couldn't help but find it slightly barbaric. He took a step back and allowed Sugawara's mother to walk him back to consciousness, caressing his har while whispering words of comfort. Sato sat on the other side, expectantly. His father had turned away, one hand on his hip and the other pinching hard at his nose.

"Koushi," his mother whispered, delicate fingers trailing circles in his hair. "I'm here, baby."

Chapter 3

Four days later, Sugawara was allowed to return home with his parents. The three insisted Sato returned to Tokyo to resume his studies, which he reluctantly agreed to after a long back and forth. 

 

He didn't remember the accident, nor being brought to the hospital. His mother had to explain it bit by bit to him; why his body hurt, why the needles in his arm, why he couldn't see. She also told him about the other teacher. After that, Sugawara had shut down completely. When others came to visit—his coworkers, some members of their old volleyball team, a few of his students and his parents—, Sawamura and Sato had to receive them by the door and politely turn them away. They could barely get the ash blond to reply to the doctor.

 

She was a middle aged woman, the deceased. Sawamura found out her name and age at the police station. Through the news, he learned she had two kids, a little girl aged three and a boy aged seven. A loving husband, a bookclub she hosted every Wednesday night. That was probably where she was headed. She had been a kindergarten teacher for the past twenty years, and the school's gate was now filled with flowers, letters, and drawings left by the children and their parents. 

 

It wasn't often that such a tragedy took place in their small town, so several newspapers reported almost daily on the accident and the subsequent investigation. An investigation Sawamura was barred from participating boss, given the personal connection he had with te victim. Not that it mattered—he had a plan. A plan and a pendrive. 

 

"I'm about to cut the line," Kaito groaned, slamming the phone off. "Do people have fun derailing an investigation? How desperate for attention can you be?"

 

Sawamura hummed, trying to seem busy with his own task. He felt the pendrive's rectangular shape against his thigh, edges poking lightly as a reminder of the insane act he was about to commit. Could Kaito hear his heartbeat, how it picked up every time someone new walked into the room? He could be fired. 

 

He could be arrested. 

 

"How..." Kaito cleared his throat. "How is your friend?"

 

Sawamura shrugged, rubbing his neck, eyes still glued to his own screen. "Not great."

 

"He's home, though?"

 

"Yeah, he got discharged," he muttered. "Back home with his parents."

 

"I'm sure he's gonna recover in no time. You guys are young, your bodies bounce back like it's nothing," his coworker shifted on the chair. "When you're my age, sleeping in the wrong position once will destroy your back for a week."

 

He stretched and got up. 

 

"I'm gonna use the bathroom," Kaito announced.

 

Sawamura appreciated the effort to make him feel better, even though they both knew it wasn't true. He hoped the other wouldn't hate him for what he was about to do. 

 

The room was empty, the old air conditioner clanking in the back. It was dark outside. Sawamura stretched out his arm and fit his pendrive into the outlet. He looked around one more time and sucked in his breath before getting up. 

 

**

**

 

He went straight from the police station to Sugawara's parent's house. His neck felt cold and clammy, his vision mildly blurred. It almost felt like he had killed someone. Maybe there was a hidden camera, maybe those computers had security systems that would alert everyone of the breach. Of course they would. It was over for him.

 

Would Kaito cover for him? Would he even have to, with those old computers? Of course they wouldn't have security systems like that. Of course. He was overreacting. He was a cop. He was part pf the team, and that was all mostly public information anyway.

 

The pit in his stomach was beginning to hurt again when someone finally opened the door.

 

"Asahi," he breathed out, surprised.

 

"Hey," the taller man hugged him. "So glad to see you."

 

"You look terrible," a higher-pitched voice muttered behind them. It was Nishinoya. "Officer."

 

His eyes were red, cheeks glossy with dry tears. Sawamura chuckled and shook his head, stepping forward to hug him.

 

"How is he?" 

 

Nishinoya and Azumane looked at one another, then back at their former captain. 

 

"Out of it. Like, completely," the shorter glanced quickly behind him. "They pumped him up with a bunch of drugs. I don't know if he even realized we were here."

 

"And how long have you guys been here?"

 

"Like three hours," Azumane replied this time. "Come on, let's go in."

 

The trio walked back in. 

 

It was weird being back at Sugawara's old house. They had barely set foot on that place since the former vice-captain moved back to his new apartment. That living room brought him back to high school, to late night study sessions and lazy movie nights on the old couch.  It smelled faintly of wood, soap, and incense. The windows were large, walls filled with diplomas and family pictures. There was one Sawamura had always liked best—five-year-old Sugawara smiled wide at the camera, big hazel eyes twinkling with excitement as he showed a medium-sized orange crab to he camera. Behind him, a sunny sky and the bright blue ocean. He smiled back at the picture, as if reassuring him ‘I’m here, I came to see you.”

 

“Hey, dear,” Sugawara’s mother greeted Sawamura when the three walked into his room. She was sitting by her seemingly unconscious son, eyes sunken and teary. There was something so human about that. He’d always put her own such a pedestal—a renewed therapist, an academic. Stern, cold, strict. He almost feared her when they were younger, and now there she was, so vulnerable, so fragile. 

 

Sawamura had been on that room exactly three times after their graduation. Twice to help with the move out, then once for Mr. Sugawara’s birthday a few months prior. His best friend dreaded large events with his family. He found his relatives to be intrusive and judgmental, and his parents had a perpetual unamused attitude that persisted even during celebrations. The duo would escape to the blond’s room and watch movies or just chat until it was time to blow the candles or make the big toast of the night. 

 

It was emptier now after the move out. His books, clutter, and plants were gone, and Sawamura wondered if they had perished from not being watered since the accident. The walls, however, were still covered in the same drawings and posters, probably to avoid damaging the paint.

 

“Mrs. Sugawara,” he greeted back, then cleared his throat. “I… How is- Is he asleep?”

 

She shook her head, then squeezed her son’s hand one last time before getting up. “You can try talking to him, I think it’s good. He responds most of the time. You guys can keep him company while I cook dinner, yeah?”

 

The three nodded. She left the room, leaving the door slightly open.

 

“Suga,” Nishinoya called, then touched the blond’s shoulder carefully. “Daichi is here.”

 

Sawamura took a step forward and swallowed dry. A thin white blanked covered the other up to his chest, but he could still see the shoulder brace and, of course, the thick bandages over his eyes. The thought back to the bright hazel eyes on that picture back in the living room. Almost two decades later, those eyes had remained so sweet, so bright. He missed them so much already.

 

He stepped closer until his thigh brushed against the bed frame, then reached down to touch his friend’s arm over the blanket. Hopefully he could feel the warmth through the fabric.

 

“Hey,” he inhaled sharply, trying to steady his voice. “It’s me.”

 

The other hummed. Sawamura smiled and carefully stroked his arm in encouragement.

 

He had an urge to tell him about the pendrive. He wanted Sugawara to know he would investigate the accident, that he wouldn’t rest until whoever had done that to him got what they deserved, but of course he couldn’t know. No one could, at least not yet. Still, he hoped the other could feel the promise through his touch. 

Chapter 4

Summary:

Sorry this took me so long, I’ll try to be more consistent moving forward!

Two weeks dragged themselves by. Sugawara was slowly recovering—the large plaster casts were replaced by slimmer, more convenient dark blue velcro ones that made it a bit easier to get out of bed. He would need physical therapy, and a corneal transplant. 'As soon as possible,' the doctors had said. It was vague, as a lot of other things were at the moment. 

 

The numbness in his expression, however, was yet to begin fading. If anything, Sawamura almost felt like it had worsened. Maybe it was the pain medication. Sawamura wished that was the reason, it seemed easier to address than grief or trauma. How does one trust the world after being left to die? They were just leaving work. Probably talking about a new assignment, or plans for the weekend. 

 

Sawamura hadn't been able to investigate the accident, at least not in any significant way. Between work, the pharmacy, and the Sugawara residence, he could only get into it late at night, in the privacy and safety of his own home. The amount of evidence collected was infuriatingly useless. After a week of barely any sleep, Sawamura came to the conclusion that the wisest decision would be to wait until the investigation picked up before he tried stealing data again.

 

He rolled out of bed and stared up at the ceiling. Two weeks later, his best friend's bloodied frame still lingered at the back of his mind like the cold trail of a ghost. 

 

Sawamura had always steadily trailed within the bounds of spirituality and atheism. His grandparents were all deeply religious, as was his mother. Most of his friends, as well as his father, borrowed from religion on occasion, but still lived mostly detached from anything outside the realm of immediate, material reality. Culturally religious was perhaps the right term for them. He always felt a step closer to complete disbelief than most of them, but—maybe due to his mother's influence—something always stopped him from fully embracing it. A fine thread, one whose tug he could only feel when leaning too far into its opposite direction. 

 

That thread was now gone. The sight of his best friend on the ground cut right through it, untethering him from any belief in a higher power. How could a conscious, caring universe let something like that happen to the best person he knew? How was he to believe someone was watching over them?

 

His phone buzzed, and Sawamura reached out to grab it. It was a voicemail from Sugawara's mother.

 

'Hi, dear. I'm sorry we didn't have time to say goodbye in person, but I wanted to call and thank you for taking care of Koushi. You are such as incredible friend. You know where to find us. Don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything.'

 

Sawamura frowned and tried calling her back. Voicemail. He tried Mr. Sugawara, but the call also didn't go through.

 

"What the..." he mumbled, trying to call his friend. By the time it reached voicemail, he was already up and getting dressed.

 

**

**

 

"Hey," he knocked on the door. "Suga, it's me. Open the door right now."

 

The night was cold, and the pit in his stomach made him impatient. He reached for the secret key in the flower pot and opened the apartment door.

 

"What the hell-" Sugawara gripped at his counter, holding a crutch under his left arm. It was dark. Sawamura turned the light on and shut the door behind him. 

 

The other didn't have to wear the sling for his collarbone anymore, but his right wrist and knee were still braced. Both of his eyes were covered by light blue patches. His face still faced the door, drawn by the loud noises. "I was about to get the door!"

 

Sawamura stared incredulously at his friend, then at the empty apartment. "What is going on?"

 

"What are you doing her-"

 

"Where are your parents?"

 

Sugawara adjusted the crutch under his arm. "Did you actually break in?" 

 

"What are you gonna do? Call the police?" He scoffed. "Where are your parents, Suga?"

 

Sugawara was quiet. He took a deep breath.

 

“Where are they?”

 

He sighed loud and leaned against the counter. "Home."

 

"How the fuck are they..." he pinched his nose. Cussing wasn’t his favorite thing, but he couldn’t help it. Not when it felt like his pounding heart was just about to pierce up his throat. "Actually, before you say anything, sit down. You're making me nervous."

 

Sawamura walked towards his best friend and put his arm over his shoulder. Even under the fabric, he could feel the other had gotten much thinner. Carefully, he helped Sugawara sit down and rest against the couch. He crouched in front of him.

 

"Ok, explain now. What the hell is going on?"

 

"Did you tell my parents anything?"

 

"What..." he frowned. "What do you mean?"

 

"I mean, you just barged in. I'm assuming you knew I was alone. Did they talk to you?"

 

The brunet swallowed and stood up, heartbeat in his temples. "Your mom texted me. Thanking me for taking care of you," he reached for his phone to show the message, only then remembering his friend couldn't read it. "I tried calling, but none of them picked up."

 

Sugawara let out a sigh of relief. "Ok, that's better..."

 

"What did you tell them, Suga? Why did you lie to them?" 

 

The other fidgeted with the fabric of his striped cotton pants, shaking his head. "I told my parents that you're taking care of me."

 

Sawamura rubbed his forehead. "Why?"

 

"I didn't mean to rope you into this, sorry. I didn't think she would text you right away. I was gonna wait a few days and then say you had to go back home."

 

"That..." he scoffed, letting both hands drop to his sides. "You’re making no sense to me. No sense, Suga."

 

"Sorry, I...” he exhaled loudly. “I just couldn't handle them anymore. I love my parents, but they stress me out. You know them, I..." he cleared his throat. "I mean, I'm recovering. I'm more mobile now."

 

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Sawamura leaned forward, raising his voice. "No, seriously, are you? You're nowhere near capable of being on your own-"

 

"Isn't that up to me?" Sugawara raised his voice back.

 

"Absolutely not, it isn't," he yelled back. "Clearly it isn't! I can't even believe you could do something so stupid, like... Damn it, Suga, what if you fell?"

 

"If I got hurt I'd tell my parents the truth, I obviously wouldn't let them blame you-"

 

Sawamura closed his eyes. He felt his blood boil. "I... I don't know what to say. I don't know what to fucking say..." he rubbed his temples harshly. "I'm actually speechless. I can't believe you did something so stupid."

 

"Did you just come here to yell at me?" Sugawara leaned forward on the couch. "Can't you just leave? You already said what you wanted to say."

 

The brunet opened his mouth and shut it back right away. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, holding in explosive words he knew he’d later regret. Especially now, when his friend needed him the most. Even if he was about to drive him completely insane.

 

“You and I both know,” he began again, having collected himself. “That you can’t be left alone like this.”

 

“Daichi,” the other muttered. “I’m just asking for a few days. I just need to be away from them for a little bit. Nothing will happen to me.”

 

Sawamura couldn’t hold back a bitter chuckle. He sat next to his best friend and let his head drop. “It’s like we are in two separate planes of reality, Suga. I know you don’t get along with them, but in what world could you think being alone like this is a better alternative? I’m glad your mom texted me. I’m really glad, because imagine what could have happened to you by yourself…”

 

Sugawara shook his head. “Whatever. I don’t expect you to understand,” he sighed. “But can’t you at least give me a day? Just let me be at peace for a day, I’ll call them tomorrow night.”

 

“You can’t be alone, Suga.”

 

“Are you serious?” Sugawara scoffed, clearly hurt. “A single night, you really can’t let me have a single night-”

 

“Suga,” Sawamura held his shoulder to get his attention. “I was going to propose something different. I’m willing to stay with you for a while.”

Chapter 5

Summary:

No one has asked me lol but just to clarify, I have always used em dashes (—) in my writing. I love how they look, how they read, how they make the text flow. I don’t use (or support) AI for writing (especially fanfic lmao we are here to practice our writing and have fun)

😍🫸🤖

It wasn't ideal. It couldn't have been, not like that, agreed upon in the middle of the night. As he rolled out of the couch and changed into the work uniform he'd brought in a hurry on the previous night, Sawamura still considered the terms of feasibility of their new arrangement. 

 

It felt like a concession, one he'd only made because it was for his best friend. And, precisely because it was for his best friend, it made him want to throw up from worry. He would move in temporarily—at least until Sugawara was fully mobile again. He wanted to make sure the other could grab a glass of water by himself, that he could get up on his own after falling down. Better yet if he didn't fall down at all. It was a difficult threshold to establish, but one thing Sawamura knew for certain was that his friend was nowhere near reaching it. 

 

It weighed on him that he'd agreed to leave the other alone, but there wasn't much of an alternative. It wasn't like he could skip work, but he at least got Sugawara to agree that he wouldn't walk more than absolutely necessary. There were bottles of water and medicine by the bed, and leftovers in the fridge—all portioned into little containers so his friend wouldn't have to cook anything. Plus, they would call every hour or so to make sure everything was ok. It seemed safe enough, at least for the few hours he had to be away.

 

"Hey," he said, calling his friend hopefully for the last time in his shift.

 

"Mhm," the other grunted and sighed. "Hey, Daichi."

 

"Were you sleeping?"

 

"Yeah," Sugawara yawned. "The painkillers knocked me right out."

 

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," he cleared his throat. "How's everything?"

 

The other hummed sleepily and shifted on the bed. "All good. I shouldn't be sleeping that much anyway, I won't be able to sleep at night." He was quiet for a few seconds. "How long until you come back?"

 

"Hm..." the brunet looked up at the clock. "I can leave in about half an hour. How does that sound?"

 

"Did you arrest anyone yet?" 

 

Sawamura chuckled lightly. He could almost see his friend's smile. "I gave someone a parking ticket."

 

"This whole thing is making me realize your job is way more boring than I thought."

 

He scoffed. "I'll see you in a bit. Don't... do stupid things."

 

"Yes, officer," his friend joked and sighed before hanging up.

 

He stared down at the screen, feeling the lingering warmth in his chest. It felt good to see his friend being humorous again, even if at his own expense. 

 

"All good there?" Kaito asked approaching Sawamura from behind. He'd been superficially briefed on the situation.

 

The brunet nodded, placing his phone back in pocket, together with a newly updated pendrive. Having waited a few weeks, he hoped this time's attempt would yield at least one valuable lead. Kaito's energized demeanor accompanied by his complete refusal to discuss the case with him led Sawamura to believe they were definitely onto something. He needed to be there too.

 

**

**

 

Sawamura knocked lightly on the door after hearing his friend call for him. 

 

"Coming in," he announced. It was still lightly foggy inside, the mirror still blurred from the shower steam. "What's going on?"

 

His friend was sitting on top on the toilet cover, fully dressed to sleep except for the top part. The pale bare skin of his chest and shoulders was covered in still healing wounds, which looked like light pink strikes in the dimly lit bathroom. Sawamura turned on the light.

 

"Can you help me put this on?" The blond lifted a white cotton shirt in his direction. "I managed to do everything but this. I can't really lift my arm yet."

 

He approached his friend and carefully helped put the shirt through the injured arm. The cast was only mildly damp, its plastic cover loosely folded on top of the sink. Up close, he could really see the cuts on the blond's skin. He could tell where the deeper cuts were, where a darker, red pigment collected over a sunken scar. The cuts became more sparse moving up and down from his chest area, painting a picture of the accident. It felt almost intrusive to inspect them in such proximity, but the awareness that Sugawara couldn't see where his eyes wandered emboldened him.

 

"Like this," he helped direct his friend's other arm into the shirt. 

 

"Your hands are so cold,” he laughed, tensing up his shoulder. The shirt went through his head. “Thank you.”

 

“So were you just gonna stay shirtless until they take the cast out?” Sawamura scoffed.

 

Sugawara shrugged. “To be honest, I didn’t think very far ahead. But still, it’s not like I’m leaving the house. It wouldn’t be the end of the world I guess.”

 

He looked at his friend with incredulity, to the lightly shut eyelids that gave him an almost serene, sleepy look. It felt like looking at a child, counting down to 0 in a game of catch. Like it wasn’t serious, and he could at will open them and stare back at him with warm hazel eyes. Hazel eyes that were always there for him, meeting him encouragingly across the room before a hard exam, sharing a complicit look after successfully lying to their parents about studying to instead go to the movies. Eyes that had soothed him when no one else could. 

 

“I know, I was stupid. Since you’re here to save the day, though…”

 

“What do you need?”

 

“I already put on the eyedrops, but I could use some help with the patches. They are over the sink.”

 

Sawamura grabbed the patches, scissors, and skin tape, then crouched back next to his friend. He enjoyed the fresh smell of soap in the air, with its soft hint of lemongrass. 

 

“Do you know how to do it?” 

 

“I saw your mom do it a few times,” he said. “Actually, let’s go to the room. I think the steam will make it hard for the tape to stay on.”

 

He left the appliances on the floor and helped his friend get up, guiding him to the bed outside before coming back to grab everything along with a face towel. 

 

“Let me just make sure you’re dry,” he gently patted Sugawara’s eye area with the fluffy white towel. His eyes fluttered in-between pats. He could see the injuries in his waterline. Mostly healing, but up close quite visible. 

 

“Do you guys do a lot of first aid training at the station?” He asked, a mild, soft tone. Almost like he wanted to make conversation to fill in the silence. Usual, at least for them. 

 

“Hum…” he cut little strips of tape and began glueing them to the Sugawara’s left eyelid. That was the most injured one. “I mean, a little. I think we could use some more.”

 

“I learned a thing of two for the sake of the kids,” the blond continued. Sawamura continued attaching the strips to his eyelids. “Mostly how to help them if they choke. Or if they have a seizure. There isn’t that much you can do for a seizure, to be honest. You mostly just want to keep them from hitting a desk or something.”

 

“Is that so?” He leaned into his friend’s rambling. “Did you ever have to use any of those skills?”

 

“Well,” Sawamura attached a larger piece of tape to his forehead, just above the left eyebrow. After securing a piece pf gauze under it, he held his chin to press the other side of the tape to his cheekbone. “One of the kids has epilepsy. He never had a seizure, though.”

 

“Well, you’ll know what to do if he does,” he continued, doing the same thing for his other eye. After finishing, he kept holding his chin, gently moving his face left and right as he adjusted the tape to best secure the gauze.

 

“I don’t even know if he’ll still be my student by the time I come back,” he shook his head with a bitter smile. “Who knows how long ‘as soon as possible’ is going to be.”

 

“What do you mean?” He stopped messing around with the tape.

 

“For the surgery.”

 

“Oh,” he let go of his chin. “Well, Suga… I mean, hopefully that will be soon. But even if,” he cleared his throat, pondering if he should have even started his new line of thought out loud. “Even if it takes a while before they call you in for the transplant, you can still teach, right?”

 

“At an elementary school?” He swallowed. “I need to watch the kids, Daichi. I need to correct their handwriting. I’d need a substitute teacher to help me at the gery least, and I don’t think the school would want to deal with the cost.”

 

“Suga…” he began, lightly brushing the other’s arms. 

 

“You know,” he put his hand on top of Sawamura’s to stop the caress. “I don’t really want to talk about this right now. I’m going to ruin all your work.” He pointed at the patch. “If you don’t have much work to do, we could watch a movie maybe? You do the impromptu audio description or something.”

 

Sawamura almost hesitated. He’d been anticipating looking at the pendrive all day. But it wasn’t like he could say no.

 

“Let’s pick something that isn’t sad, then. I don’t want you ruining my first aid masterpieces.”

Chapter 6

"Can he come in with me?" 

 

"Yes, you can have someone accompany you," the nurse said, standing by their chairs in the waiting room. "Follow me, please."

 

Sawamura pushed his friend in the wheelchair into a separate room, the crutches on the blond's lap. It was five in the afternoon, the evening sunlit tinged the sharp edges of gray beeping machines with a soft orange glow. Above them, the bright white lamp flickered briefly when the nurse turned on the light. The nurse helped Sugawara sit on the bed. 

 

"Looking good," she said, removing the brace from his leg. He'd had knee surgery during his first stay at the hospital, and stitches had been removed over a week prior. "I think you'll be able to start that exercise routine we'd talked about. Let's just wait to see what the doctor says, yeah?"

 

Sawamura shot a look at the long scar in the middle of his knee while the nurse took his blood pressure. It sent a shiver down his spine. 

 

He wondered if Sugawara had felt it yet. How would he react after the surgery, when his eyesight was restored and he could see the scars all over his body? The deep wounds in his chest, down his back. How much of it did he know? Could he feel them when he showered?

 

The doctor came in a few minutes later, as the nurse took Sugawara's blood pressure. It was a quick checkup—he pressed on and moved his leg around for a little bit, did some mild strength tests, and slightly increased the painkiller dosage. 

 

"You're lucky you're so young," he said. "Older people don't bounce back like that."

 

"If you say so," Sugawara chuckled lightly, with a hint of surprise.

 

"You don't believe me because you haven't seen how half of my patients look. I know it doesn't feel great right now, but trust me when I say recovery looks promising. Do you play any sports?"

 

The blond shook his head as the doctor kept examining his knee. "Not really. At least not nowadays."

 

"Did you use to?" 

 

He shrugged. "I played volleyball in high school. We did," he gestured around the room. "Wherever he is."

 

"Here," Sawamura stepped forward from his corner. 

 

"Volleyball, yeah? That makes sense, you two are tall."

 

"That's because you haven't seen the other guys that played with us..." the blond muttered. 

 

"I could never play, too short to make the cut. My daughter, however, just joined her middle school team," the doctor put back Sugawara's leg brace. "All good here. Let's just wait a little bit on the exercise routine, I want that pain get better. Just do the stretches."

 

"Sounds good," he cleared his throat. "And, hum... I also wanted to ask about the surgery."

 

He pointed at his own eyes, hidden under the protective patches. 

 

"Sorry, no updates there. Not enough people have died yet," the doctor chuckled and shrugged. "By that I mean donors. But, again, we'll notify you right away."

 

The blond hummed, forcing a smile. They closed up and left through the front entrance, Sugawara transitioning back to his crutches.

 

"Am I going to hell for wishing more people would die?" The blond sighed loudly when they were both sat inside the car.

 

"I thought you didn't believe in hell," Sawamura smiled lightly. 

 

The other shrugged. "Karma. Bad energy. Whatever it is, it can't be good to wish death upon people. The day I get to do this stupid surgery it will be because someone died. I'll have a dead person's body parts on me."

 

"I wouldn't think about it too much," the brunet said, holding onto his keys without turning on the car.

 

His friend sagged against the seat. "Easy for you to say," he sighed and shook his head, as if pushing the thought away. "Anyway, thanks for bringing me. I'm glad you could make it."

 

"I liked that doctor."

 

"I don't. I feel like I'm in a business meeting every time I see him. It's weird."

 

Sawamura almost wanted to disagree, but he held himself back. He probably wouldn't have liked him regardless because he didn't like going to the hospital. He never did, even back in high school. 

 

Plus, he knew his friend hadn't slept well. Late at night, as he searched for new information on the pendrive in the darkness of Sugawara's living room, he could hear how his friend would wake up in sudden gasps. At first he'd stopped by the room to make sure everything is okay, but the other declined any help or company, claiming it was only a bad dream and that he did not want to talk about it. 

 

There was so much to say. Yet, nothing at all.

 

"Let's go home, Suga," he broke the silence, turning on the car.

 

**

**

 

"Wow, you're looking so much better!" Azumane hugged Sugawara, who was sitting at the edge of the living room couch.

 

"I... Yeah, just don't break my bones again," he laughed with a hint of nervousness, gently pushing back. "Did you find parking?"

 

"I took the bus," he moved forward to hug Sawamura. "How are you two doing?"

 

Sugawara shrugged. "All things considered, pretty good. Daichi cooks pretty well so that's been nice."

 

"Oh," he pondered and looked back at Sawamura. "Oh, wait, really?"

 

 "Why the surprise, Asahi? You don't think I can cook?"

 

The taller man cleared his throat, his face slightly flustered. "To be honest, not really. Last time you cooked for me, it was a little..."

 

"Raw. I know. That was years ago," he gestured towards the table and moved next to Sugawara to hand him the crutches and guide him to his chair. "Today's food was all my doing so you can reassess for yourself. Also, what's that?"

 

He pointed to a bag Azumane was carrying.

 

"Oh," he lifted it. "I brought you this, Suga."

 

"Oh... is this a book?" The blond felt inside the bag once it was handed to him.

 

"Yeah, it's a Braille manual. It’s pretty cool, the bookstore lady showed it to me, you can feel the tactile stuff on the pages, Daichi can help you out.”

 

Sugawara's hand went still inside the bag. Sawamura saw the color drain from his face, his lips parting slightly before pressing against each other with a dry swallow.

 

"Oh," he tried to recompose himself, shooting his friend a fake smile. "Wow, I don't even think I'll need this, but... thank you, Asahi. I'll... Yeah, thanks."

 

"I mean, I'm sure you'll get the surgery soon. I was just worried you might get bored-"

 

"So thoughtful of you!" Sawamura knew that tone. His best friend was either at the verge of crying or exploding. "So, so thoughtful!"

 

Azumane's eyes were wide open. He shot Sawamura a confused, almost pleasing look. 

 

"He is, isn't he? Now, why don't we go eat?" The former captain butted in, trying to cut through the tension. "It's not like Asahi can judge my food fairly if it's cold, right?"

 

"Right," Azumane cleared his throat. "Yeah, let's see if you can change my mind."

 

"I'm not letting you leave until you do," he kept up the forced playful tone, reaching to take the bag from Sugawara's hands. "Let me put this in the living room."

 

**

**

 

"Thank you for washing the dishes," the blond said from the couch. 

 

"You know you don't have to thank me every time I do it, right?" Sawamura turned around slightly to look at him. His head was a little low, shoulders sagging. "Everything okay there?"

 

The other shrugged and shook his head.

 

"I know I probably made Asahi feel bad," he sighed, sliding down to rest his head on the cushioned back. "I don't know why I reacted like that."

 

"You mean..."

 

"The book. You don't need to pretend, Daichi. We both know I reacted weird, I could hear you two making gestures and stuff. And you practically snatched the book from me. I'm not stupid."

 

Sawamura took a deep breath and shut off the sink, drying his hands in his jeans as he walked towards the living room. 

 

"Never thought you were," he smiled lightly. "You just seemed upset. We were a little worried."

 

"It makes it a little too real, you know. The Braille, I mean. Like, if it's just a temporary thing, why would I even have to bother..."

 

He sighed again and shook his head. From the small contractions in his jaw, the brunet could tell his friend was holding back tears. And he was good at it, Sawamura knew. Sugawara was weirdly selective with his displays of crying. He would cry at games, cry during sad movies or weddings and graduations, and not seem even slightly bothered by people witnessing it. There were times, however, when the tears would just never come. He'd seen it a couple of times—after fighting with his parents, or after his dream-school scholarship application was rejected, Sugawara had withdrawn into himself, eyes closed, quietly holding back on the tears. It was like watching shadows move across a thick ice wall, as if trying to escape, slowing down until resting still. 

 

 Sawamura touched his arm. It felt like an appropriate substitute for the knowing, comforting looks they would normally exchange in times of crisis. Sugawara's cold hand met his and squeezed gently.

 

"You know," the brunet's finger moved in a soft stroke before he could even notice. "I could learn it with you."

 

Sugawara laughed. "I wouldn't put you thought that."

 

"I mean, it can't be that hard, can it? And it's a good skill to have, just in case."

 

"Daichi, come on," he smiled.

 

"Come on what? I mean it. Asahi's book it right there anyway, we learn it for the sake of it, you get your surgery, and afterwards we'll both have a new skill. I'm sure it could come in handy with the kids at school. You never know, maybe a student will need it at some point.”

 

Sugawara chuckled, shaking his head again. “I mean, yeah. Sure, yeah. You’re right. Let’s do this then.”

Chapter 7

Sawamura's interlocked fingers pressed against his lips, brows furrowed as he stared attentively at the laptop screen. He was finally able to see what took place. Sugawara walked down the sidewalk next to his colleague, the woman waving her hand at something he'd said. A bright light flashes in, and, quick as a gush of wind, a silver car comes into frame and strikes them both. Sugawara is hit and thrown over the car hood and to its side, while the woman is pushed forward until it crashes with her against the store front. The shards of glass glimpse on the floor, like sunlight on shallow waters. The car reverses, drives away. Sugawara's left arm moves slowly on the ground as he regains consciousness, a small crowd begins to form around them. The other teacher is completely motionless, crouched forward in the middle of a growing dark puddle.  

 

Sawamura's eyes were filled with hot tears. He blinked them out, almost feverish with rage, his fists clenched in a fist. The tips of his nails nearly tore through the skin. He reversed the video to look at the car again. It was dented on its left, the rear light on the same side completely busted. The angle, however, did not allow him to see the full car plate. He moved the video frame by frame, but with the security camera's poor quality and the car's fast movements, all he could distinguish were the first two digits. It was useless. He'd risked it all for that pendrive, and it was useless.

 

Overcome with frustration, his fist hit the counter. Sugawara yelped from the couch.

 

"Shit, you scared me. Everything okay there?" He asked, reaching down for the book he'd dropped.

 

"Sorry, I was trying to kill a mosquito," the brunet lied on the spot, embarrassed by his own lack of self restraint. "Let me get that."

 

He kneeled down to get Azumane's braille book and placed it back on his friend's lap, then sat next to him.

 

"How's that going?" He asked, clearing his throat to hide that he was crying. 

 

The blond shrugged, taking off his earbuds. The book came with audio instructions which Sawamura had helped him set on his phone. "Keeps me busy, I guess. A whole new world at my fingertips. Literally."

 

He reached for his friend's hands, lightly touching until he found his wrist and pulled it closer. "Here, left to right. These are the numbers," he stroked down until he reached Sawamura's index finger, gently guiding it down the 6-dot cells. 

 

"Did you learn them all already?" He asked, surprised by the steadiness of his voice as tears began to flow down again, collecting at his chin. He couldn't help it. It was hard to describe what he felt looking at his friend. There was the gratitude for having him there, alive and recovering. But that was only the surface. He had seen the bruises fade, the stitches poke from under the hems of his shirts, the scars in his chest. It was bitter. Beyond it all, he felt anxious. It was as if he was perpetually by that ambulance, cracked glass under his shoes, his heart sinking when he saw the black bag being zipped up. He'd never left. No one had answered him, he waited around in vertigo forever, frozen in silence and beginning to understand that his best friend could already be gone. And nothing, not even having his friend materially in front of him, could bring him back from that split second where he truly believed the other was dead.

 

He let his hand trail over his friend's and hold it. The back of his hand was cold. It was as if he was still trying to convince himself that he was alive.

 

"Are you okay?" Sugawara put his own hand over his, stroking it lightly with his thumb. Sawamura didn't even feel like he could stroke him back. It would felt akin to letting go. He needed it to be more grounded, to hold still until his mind could catch up with reality.

 

"I don't..." he cleared his throat. "I don't know what I would do if you had died."

 

Sugawara's face moved up slightly towards him. "I mean... you don't have to worry about that now."

 

That wasn't enough, he wanted to say. What mattered was that it had almost happened. It tore through the fabric of their mundane, sweet reality. He'd almost lost all of it, the late dinners together after work, the lengthy conversations in his car, parked just in front of Sugawara's apartment after giving him a ride home. The blond was the first person he would text to share good news, or to seek advice or comfort after a difficult day. He'd never noticed how much he'd taken his best friend for granted, as if he were an integral part of the world like the air he breathed or the clouds in the sky. A part of a greater whole, where it all fit together. What he'd found out that night was that universe was indifferent. It wouldn't stop if Sugawara died. It wouldn't stop for anything in his life that he held dear. It would go on, forcing him to move forward too, and it would leave him behind if needed. 

 

Something emboldened him to touch his friend's face. It wasn't something he would normally do. It was too intimate, even for them. Maybe it was the fact that the blond couldn't stare back at him, or perhaps an almost nihilistic lack of judgement after the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions he'd been experiencing. 

 

The other's lips parted, but he remained quiet and still. The pale skin of his cheek felt cold under his touch. 

 

Someone knocked on the door, startling the two. Now overcame with self-consciousness, Sawamura yanked his hand away. 

 

"Expecting someone?"

 

"Oh, right-" Sugawara cleared his throat, flustered. "Kiyoko called yesterday while you were at work. She said her and might drop by today. Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Can you get the door for them?"

 

The brunet stood up to invite his friends in, hoping the short walk would be enough to dissipate the burning in his cheeks. 

 

"Daichi!" Tanaka greeted him first. "So sorry we didn't come earlier, we flew back yesterday from Sydney."

 

"What were you guys doing in Sidney?" Sugawara asked, hugging Tanaka who came to meet him at the couch.

 

"My parents moved there last year," Kiyoko removed her coat and folded it over her forearm. "We were visiting to give them the news."

 

Sawamura covered his mouth with his hand when he saw her. She smiled and moved forward too carefully hug him, then moved to the blond.

 

"What news?" He reached up to hug her. "Wait-"

 

He reached back and covered his mouth too. Kiyoko laughed and stroked her protruding belly. "Yeah, I'm pregnant. Four months."

 

“You’re kidding,” he said, his voice muffled by hard pressing palms. “No way, you’re serious?”

 

“We have a consultation next week to determine the babies’s gender,” she looked back at her husband and reached out to hold his hand. “We were going to let it be a surprise, but my mom really wants to know.”

 

Tanaka’s loving smile towards his wife quickly faded as he started looking around. 

 

“So…” he scratched his head. “How’s everything around here? I mean, how have you been, Suga?”

 

The blond shrugged. Kiyoko sat next to him and gently held his hand. 

 

“Good, I guess. I’m recovering. I take a lot of pain medication, and Daichi takes good care of me too.”

 

“What about your, um…” he started again. Kiyoko looked at him with reprehension.

 

“My eyes?” He grazed the left patch. “I need corneal transplants, so… I just have to wait until a donor dies, I guess. They said they’d call.”

 

“Can you see anything right now?” Tanaka blurted out. Kiyoko reached forward to lightly slap him on the leg.

 

Sugawara laughed. “I heard that. It’s ok, I don’t mind. I really don’t like feeling like people are stepping on eggshells around me,” he took a deep breath. “Everything is really blurry. I can see colors, but it’s all just blobs. There’s some white spots too.”

 

“Well that must suck,” his friend sighed, sitting on his other side. 

 

“I’m just glad what’s damaged is something I can replace. A lot of glass got into my eyes, so it could have been something permanent.”

 

**

**

 

“I’ll call you tomorrow after the ultrasound,” Kiyoko said, hugging Sugawara goodbye.

 

“Yeah, that way you can start buying gifts for my son or daughter,” Tanaka hugged him goodbye too. “If it’s a girl, you two can get some of those baby bows for the hair. That shit’s adorable.”

 

Kiyoko rolled her eyes and hugged Sawamura. “Call me if you need anything, yeah? I’ve been working from home a lot, so I can always drop by.”

 

“Thank you,” he smiled at her. With each passing year, she only became more beautiful.

 

“The bows can be any color, just make sure they com in pairs,” Tanaka patted him on the shoulder and hugged him.

 

“Write us a list, why don’t you?” The brunet muttered with sarcasm, but he couldn’t help smiling. If his friend had been told back in high school that, one day, the girl of his dreams would be married to him and carrying his baby, he would never have believed it.

 

The two stepped back into the apartment and closed the door. It was getting cold outside. Sugawara secured one of the crutches under his elbow to touch his eye patch. 

 

“I think I got this wet from crying. Can you help me change it?”

 

Sawamura helped his friend sit back on the couch and grabbed the new patches, gauze, and skin tape from the bathroom, as well as a lightly wet towel. He liked to make it a bit more secure for the night.

 

“Can you believe she’s having a baby?” The blond asked as the brunet held his face with one hand and pulled the old patches with the other. 

 

It was always refreshing to see his whole face again. Even if his eyes were closed, they were still there, just as he remembered them. Silver eyelashes, the light, faint freckles around the area, the dark beauty mark just under his left eye. 

 

“Maybe don’t think about it too much while I do this if it makes you cry. I don’t want you ruining my masterpiece again.”

 

Sugawara laughed. “Sorry. It’s just crazy. We all have jobs, everyone is so grown. And Tanaka, I just… Would you have ever thought this would happen back in high school?”

 

He smiled. “I was just thinking that,” he used the wet part of the towel to clean the eye area, still holding the other’s face to stabilize it. “If we time traveled to tell him, he’d have cussed us out for messing with his feelings.”

 

“Then probably he’d go home and cry himself to sleep,” Sugawara’s eyelids fluttered lightly under the strokes of the towel. “What would you tell your past self?”

 

“Probably to warn you not to be where you were when the car hit you. Stay late at work or something,” he started tapping the dry part of the towel around his eyes.

 

“Way to bring the mood down,” Sugawara chuckled. “Something else. What would you tell yourself?”

 

The brunet pressed his lips together in thought. “I guess if I told myself I wouldn’t go to college I’d be pretty disappointed. But at least I could relax a little more at school.”

 

“You wouldn’t be able to slack off. You’ve always been such a perfectionist,” he smiled. “Not stressing out would stress you out.”

 

Sawamura snorted. “Is that so?”

 

“I know it is,” he reached out to press his palm against Sawamura’s chest. He pointed at his heart. “It’s ingrained in you. That’s how you always get everything done.”

 

He smiled, slightly flustered, and reached down to unpack another patch. “What about you? What would you tell yourself?”

 

“Well, if warning myself of the accident didn’t count,” he sighed. “Maybe that I’d be able to afford my apartment pretty soon after getting my teaching license. I was so scared I’d make no money and be stuck with my parents.”

 

“You’d have found a way.”

 

Sawamura bit the inside of his cheek, holding the patch. He looked down at his friend and his chest felt warm, yet heavy. The sight of that face, so familiar, was now an event in itself. It was rare, brief, too brief. Even with the fading scratches and the reddened skin around his eyes, sensitive from the patches, it was still just what he remembered. Large, rounded eyes, his slightly upturned nose, pale lips. He let his thumb lightly stroke the other’s beauty mark.

 

It brought him back to volleyball camping trips, when he would toss and turn in a sleeping bag trying to ignore the growing pit in his stomach. In those moments, when his mind would play out the most humiliating losses possible and make him doubt his abilities as a captain, he’d sometimes steal glances at the sleeping co-captain by his side. It felt almost intrusive, how he’d study his face and the gentle pace of his breathing. He knew it overstepped something in their relationship. Yet, it soothed him.

 

He covered both of his eye patches with gauze and secured them with tape. The blond smiled and thanked him. Sawamura got up to wash his face, hoping it would alleviate the growing warmth creeping up his neck.

Chapter 8

“How do these look?" Sugawara put on the pair of sunglasses Sawamura had given him. 

 

"Great. I like them."

 

"You like all of them," he groaned, cocking his head back. "I need you to actually help me here. I can only see a blur, so I'm trusting your judgement."

 

The brunet sighed and took another look at the glasses. "To be fair, they're all kind of similar. This one is a little more square."

 

The other pressed his lips together. "I don't like it when glasses are super square. Can you hand me the second one I tried?"

 

Sugawara felt around the frames a few more times before finally choosing a pair of glasses he liked. Having removed the protective gauze, he kept his eyes lightly closed as Sawamura pushed his wheelchair to the cashier. 

 

"Can you get the silver card, please?" Sugawara handed him his wallet. "The password is... Well, it's my birthday, so you better get that right."

 

He gently pushed the blond's hand back down. "I got it."

 

"Wait, what?"

 

"Done," he pressed down his PIN number and was handed a dark blue paper bag with the case and glasses inside. "Thank you!"

 

He gave his best friend the bag as they moved outside the store.

 

"Damn... Thank you, but you didn't have to. You do so much for me already..."

 

"I wanted to. Big milestone for you."

 

The blond put on the glasses and looked around.

 

"Did you buy them just because you forgot my birthday?" He chuckled.

 

Sawamura laughed. "You got me."

 

The other reached back to place his hand over Sawamura's, which held the wheelchair handlers. His fingers were cold. He squeezed lightly. "Thank you, Daichi. That was really nice of you."

 

"Of course," he looked around. The sun was out despite the low temperature. "So, do you still want to go to the park?"

 

The blond hummed in agreement. They made their way down the street, then walked through a few blocks in mutual silence. It was a beautiful Sunday morning. The sky was bright blue, sun rays shining trough sparse clouds, and a gentle breeze whistled past their ears. 

 

They made it past the rusty entrance and into the park. Small children played fetch with large, hairy dogs, their parents watching from wooden tables. There were tiny white butterflies swirling around, a sight Sawamura had learned to associate with the beginning of spring. He pushed the wheelchair away from the crowd, moving carefully over the uneven grass until they found a large tree to settle under, and helped his friend down from the wheelchair.

 

"Comfortable?" He asked.

 

"Never," the blond chuckled, resting his back against the tree trunk. "But it's nice to be out of the house."

 

"You got lucky. I thought it was going to rain today."

 

"I'm the luckiest guy there is," he smiled, a hint of sarcasm to his tone. "Wow. It feels weird to not wear the patches. Like, it's nice. But I almost feel naked."

 

"Right when I was getting really good at changing them," he joked, tugging lightly at the grass.

 

"The hospital should hire you to teach the nurses," he smiled. "I might need to go back to them if my eyes get too sensitive, but they feel alright now. So far so good."

 

Sawamura stared at the blond, trying to read past the serenity in his expression. He'd gotten used to it, catching himself gazing at his friend, trying to decipher him. What he wanted, what he felt, what he was thinking. It reminded him of high school, when he knew his friend was struggling but wouldn't say anything. Sugawara would complain about school, about the weather, about the cafeteria food, but as soon as he got quiet, that's when Sawamura knew something was truly bothering him. 

 

"What do you see now?" He asked, almost hesitantly. He wondered if the other would finally catch him staring.

 

"It's foggy. It's like there's this think plastic covering my eyes. And a cat scratched all over it."

 

"Can you see me?"

 

"Yeah," he smiled. "Well, sort of. Outlines of you."

 

Sawamura shifted closer to him, until their knees touched over the grass. "And now?"

 

"A little more," he raised his hand slightly. "I see..." he gently touched his nose bridge. "I can see your nose..."

 

"Is my nose that big?" He laughed.

 

"That's not what I said," his friend chuckled. "I see your eyes too. Their outline," he moved his index gently around his eye sockets. It sent a shiver down the brunet's spine. "Your hair," he combed through it, and Sawamura felt himself get lightheaded. Like alarm bells in his mind, something begged him to jolt back, away from his friend's touch. Something superficial, because underneath it there was a much stronger impulse that he didn't dare to name. Something he knew he had to counteract before it rose to the surface.

 

"And your lips are right here."

 

When his cold fingers brushed over his lips, Sawamura moved back. He felt his face burn, warmth flushing down his neck. 

 

"Sorry, I... I was just..." the blond stammered, pulling his hand back, lightly flushed as well. 

 

"I just thought I saw something behind you," he lied, and reached for the other's hand, placing it firmly back against his cheek. "Keep going. What else do you see?"

 

Sugawara smiled lightly, moving his fingers to the side. "Your ears," he pointed behind him. "Back there I see the outline of a tree. And there's something bright below that."

 

"That," Sawamura turned around to look. "That's a kite. Some kid's trying to throw it up, but there's not enough wind."

 

"Huh," the blond hummed, then winced and touched his clavicle. "Can you pass me my bag?"

 

Once handed the bag, the blond reached for his pain medication and his water bottle. It was empty.

 

"Let me get you some."

 

Sawamura reached for the bottle and stood up. There was a water fountain by the park's entrance, and from there he could still check on his friend. Once there, he waited in line for a mother to finish filling her own bottle, a toddler tugging at her dress and pacing impatiently by her feet. He wondered if he would ever have a child. When he was younger, even throughout high school it had seemed only natural. That's what you do: graduate, get a job, get married, have some kids. Die, leave them some money. Now, however, picturing himself as a father felt like visualizing a parallel reality, akin to picturing himself as a movie star or olympic champion. He didn't feel ready. 

 

Beyond that, he felt no desire to bring someone into the world as it was. Even from his low ranking position, he'd witnessed the horrors brought upon by regular, unassuming people—someone who you could pass by at the grocery store. A cashier who'd murdered his wife, an obsessed college student stalking his tutor. Day by day, the world shriveled and cracked around him, exposing its ugliness. What child deserved that reality?

 

Sawamura shook his head and took a step forward when the lady and her son moved away. His eyes wandered out to the street he filled the water bottle, where they landed on a car. A silver car. Dented on its left. His stomach sank.

 

His ears were ringing. He dropped the water bottle and rushed outside, panting by the time he got to the car. The first two digits matched what he'd seen on the video. The bump on the side matched it perfectly. The rear light, broken. In the front, he could see new dents. It was scratched. 

 

Sawamura looked around, as if the owner would materialize by him. The world was spinning. He looked inside the car. It was filthy, covered in old newspapers and food boxes. 

 

With cold, sweaty palms, he reached for his phone. His fingers were shaking, but he managed to take a picture of the car. He took several, of all its angles, then a few of the license plate. 

 

**

**

 

"I have his name," Sawamura dropped a couple of files on Kaito’s desk.

 

“What the hell?” The older man frowned, reaching around his coffee mug for the papers. It was dark outside—most of their coworkers had already headed home.

 

“The man who ran over my friend and the other teacher. I have his name. I found his car and his license plate, so I used that to search for his-”

 

“Whoa. Whoa, whoa whoa. Calm down a minute,” his coworker’s frown deepened. “What do you mean you found his car? We didn’t release the videos to the public.”

 

“I got it from your computer. But that’s not the point,” he placed his hands over the files. “I have all the guy’s information, his address, his-”

 

“What do you mean that’s not the point?” He stood up, raising his voice. “That’s exactly the point! You broke into my computer?”

 

“You’re not listening, the case is solved, I found-”

 

“You found nothing!” Kaito ran his hands through his hair and rubbed his temples before pointing at Sawamura. “You did something bad, kid. Really fucking bad. You’re not on the case, you had no right to do this!”

 

“But for fuck’s sakes, no one here did anything! You were all going in circles, I am giving you the answers!”

 

“I won’t tell. I won’t snitch on you, do you know why? Because you’d get fucking fired. Fired immediately,” Kaito pointed at his face. “Take those stupid papers with you and forget we ever had this conversation.”

 

“You’re…” Sawamura felt on the verge of throwing up. “You can’t be serious…”

 

“I am dead serious. You could cost us both your jobs. I’m putting myself on the line for you, even though you broke my trust completely,” he sighed. “You disrespected me. You’re disrespecting our work. You are not a part of this investigation, and whatever proof you think you’ve found, I don’t want to hear about it. Now get the fuck out. Go home, you’re done for the day.”

 

Sawamura looked at him, hoping for a hint of hesitation or regret, but his friend’s expression remained stern. He couldn’t believe it, how protocol and bureaucracy could come before solving an investigation. They didn’t care like he did. They would mark the case as unresolved without giving it a second thought and move on with their lives. He was on his own.

Chapter 9

Sawamura took a deep breath, standing in front on the house. A gentle breeze blew past his face, cool against the small wounds he'd bit into his lips on the way over. Both of the front windows reflected a bright orange sunset. The glass shook lightly against the wind.

 

The brunet took a step forward and touched a rusty gate surrounding the unkept lawn, junk everywhere. It was broken, didn't even close. He walked past the car, the dent just as he remembered it. 

 

He knocked on the door. It was dirty, as were the outer walls. No one replied.

 

"Police!" He yelled, banging this time. "Open the door!"

 

Once again, silence. He could, however, see the lights on in the living room. Bright and white, just like those of a hospital, creeping through the blinds. 

 

He banged on the door again and, with no reply, tried opening it. It wasn't locked.

 

Immediately, he was met with the stench of alcohol and sewage. It was rotten and heavy with a sickly sweetness, which made his stomach churn. 

 

The old wooden floor creaked under his heavy steps as he walked in. There were bottles everywhere. Some empty, some halfway done. It was cheap liquor, the type his father used to buy for big family reunions. A cockroach slipped out of the cracks on the floor and hid behind one of the bottles.

 

"Miyagi police department," he announced himself again. 

 

Finally, Sawamura heard something fall to the ground in the room next to him. He rushed there, only to find a filthy couch surrounded by even more bottles. Laying down next to it was a barely conscious old man.

 

"Hey," he kneeled down next to him and pulled him up by the collar. As soon as he saw the man's face, he recognized him from the police file associated with the plate number he'd found. He'd been detained several times before for drunk driving and looting. "Hey! Wake up!"

 

The man groaned and tried to push him away. He was tall and extremely thin, his face scrunched up as if blinded by headlights. "Who... What..."

 

"You ran over my friend. You killed his coworker," he tightened his grip on the man's collar. "Wake the fuck up."

 

"I... What?" He shook his head morosely. "Get out of my..."

 

A shockwave of pain radiated down Sawamura's hand. He unclenched his knuckles as the man fell back on the ground, blood dripping down the tear in his lip. 

 

The man's eyes were now wide opened. He spit out a tooth and looked around, disoriented. Sawamura grabbed him by the collar again. 

 

"Do you even know what I'm talking about?!" He shook the old man. "Answer me!"

 

"I didn't do anything!" He spit out more blood. "If anything, they were on my way-" 

 

Another blow hit the side of the old man's face. He dropped to the ground, holding his left cheekbone. 

 

"You killed someone! You could have killed them both, you fucking bastard," his eyes filled with tears. "Do you... Do you even know who I'm talking about?"

 

"Try the guy next door," the old man mumbled, his eyes closed. "It wasn't... it wasn't me..."

 

His voice got slower. Sawamura blinked, perplexed. The man had fallen back asleep.

 

"You..." he blinked down his tears and reached for the man. He was passed out. 

 

He looked around. There was dry vomit on the ground. Over the couch, he spotted a syringe.

 

It was a lost cause. He probably didn't even remember that night.

 

"You fucking bastard, you ruined everything," Sawamura cried, covering his face. The man was nearly snoring on the ground. 

 

He stood up and dried out his tears. In the living room, the found the man's car keys. In the kitchen, he found a knife. Part of him wanted to stab him, but he walked straight out of the house and slashed his tires. He doubted he could afford to have them all changed, at least in the near future. As for the car keys, Sawamura threw them into a trash can a few blocks down from the house.

 

The walk back was rushed and silent. It felt like the end of a nightmare, the lights of a tall building merging and vanishing before his body hit the ground. Maybe he should have killed the man. Cut his fingers off so he couldn't drive again. Maybe he should have called the police. 

 

If only Kaito had listened to him...

 

"I'm home," he announced, opening the door. 

 

He turned on the lights, only to find his friend kneeled down on the ground in front of a pile of broken glass, his hands covered in blood. He was wearing a white long sleeved shirt, covered in dark red spots. 

 

"What the..." he rushed to his friend and kneeled down next to him. "Get away from that! What the fuck-"

 

"Sorry, I just... I thought I could..."

 

"For fuck's sake..." he ran to grab a kitchen cloth and began to wipe the blond's hand. "Are you out of your mind?!"

 

"I didn't want to just leave a bunch of glass on the floor, so I..."

 

"So you just stick your hands on it?! Without being able to see?" He panted. "Damn it, Suga, I wish you'd just stop and think for a sec-"

 

Sawamura looked down at his own hands, holding the cloth around Sugawara's bloodied fingertips. His knuckles were injured, bruised, right where he'd struck the old man's face. In his middle finger there was a small tear, a trail of dried blood collecting 

at his nail bed.

 

He might have killed him. An old, frail man like that. He was so pale, so thin. A concussion is perhaps all it would take. 

 

If he were dead, they would look into it. Maybe a security camera caught him slashing the tires. He thought he'd been careful, but what if he missed a camera peeking from a corner? His DNA would be all over the crime scene. 

 

He might have killed him.

 

"Daichi?" Sugawara leaned in closer. "Are you okay? You're breathing heavy..."

 

"Just..." he stood up and ran to the kitchen, pulling the trash can from under the sink barely in time to throw up. 

 

"Oh shit, I.."

 

"Stay there!" Sawamura commanded, gripping at the trash can before throwing up again. "Don't move. You'll..." he gagged again. "You'll cut yourself."

 

"I didn't know you had such a problem with blood, I'm so sorry..."

 

"That's not..." he dry heaved. "That's not it. Just... Just give me a moment, okay? Just don't move, Suga."

 

With his hands still lightly shaking, Sawamura took out the trash bag and tied a knot on it. There was a trash room in the end of the hallway. He rushed out and back, then splashed cold water on his face in the sink. His mouth tasted bitter. He brushed his teeth.

 

"I'm back," he sighed, kneeling back down next to the glass.

 

Sugawara shook his head. "What happened to you?"

 

"Suga, you just got your wrist brace out. Can you please just promise me not to immediately get yourself hurt for nothing..."

 

The blond scoffed. "Don't change the subject, come on. I heard you pretty much having a panic attack. What's going on?"

 

"Nothing."

 

"Do you think I'm stupid? Maybe I can't see, but I know what I-"

 

"Nothing, Suga!" He raised his voice. "Nothing. Just drop it."

 

"Don't yell at me. I'm just trying to help."

 

"If you want to help, then just lean back! Away from the glass, yeah?" He saw the bloodied cloth and groaned. "Actually, no. Let's bandage that."

 

"I don't want you to. I'll do it."

 

"You'll..." Sawamura dropped his head and sighed loudly. "Suga, you don't know the day I've had..."

 

"Then tell me about it. Or don't, whatever you wanna do. Go for a jog, punch a pillow," he took a deep breath. "But don't just take it out on me."

 

The brunet closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Sure. Yeah, sorry. You're right," he swallowed and stood up, helping his friend up as well while avoiding the glass. "Come on, let's go patch you up."

 

They made it to the bathroom sink. Sawamura threw the red-stained cloth on the bathtub and placed his friend's hands gently under a cool stream of water. Sugawara flinched lightly, but he stood still as the blood washed down the drain, revealing minor cuts from which crimson red still oozed out. 

 

"Glass cuts are the worst," the former captain sighed, noticing some cuts in his own fingertips. The water stream also cleared them up as he rubbed the blood off his friend's hands. 

 

The blond inhaled deeply. His torso was warm against Sawamura's chest, his hair smelled faintly of lemongrass. 

 

He turned off the sink and dried up his friend's hands and his own. A few specks of blood stained the face towel. He threw it into the tub with the cloth, grabbed the bandaid box from the cabinet, and began to patch up both of their hands.

 

"Okay, come here," he guided Sugawara to the bedroom and helped him sit on the bed. "This shirt is all dirty."

 

"Daichi, wait," he held the brunet's hands as they reached for the hem of the shirt. "Can you tell me now what happened?"

 

"Nothing, Suga. Just forget about it."

 

"You threw up. I heard you hyperventilating. It wasn't 'nothing', I could tell... And don't tell me it was work-related, I know you didn't have any shifts today-"

 

"I really don't wanna talk about it. Just lift up your arms, come on."

 

"No, come on..." he gently pushed Sawamura's hands away. "It's freaking me out."

 

"I asked you to drop it," he turned back to grab a new shirt from the drawer. "So drop it."

 

"You never hid stuff from me, I don’t get why you’re acting like this all of a sudden.”

 

He sighed. “Do you want help getting changed or not?”

 

“No.”

 

“Fine. I’m going to the living room, then. Do you need help to get there?”

 

The blond shook his head. Sawamura shoved the shirt back in the drawer and left the room before his anger led him to say something he would regret. Hot flashes shot through his body, his neck felt hard with tension. The outer corners of his field of vision darkened with the heavy pressure of a creeping headache.

 

He could feel the fast pace of his heartbeat pulsating through his swollen knuckles. The bruises were so visible. There must have been a camera he missed. If not in the house, in the neighborhood. Someone must have seen him from a window. Why didn’t he wear a mask? He wouldn’t have to worry if he’d worn a mask.

 

“Stupid,” he ran his bandaged fingers through his temples and hair. 

 

Maybe he should go back, just to see if the man was dead. He stood up and stopped by the door. Someone would see him do it. If not before, now he would definitely get caught. It would be far too obvious. This time, he’d have to buy a mask. He had to go wipe out his fingertips. But what if the man was now sobered up and able to recognize him? How could he break in then?

 

His chest tightened again. It was hard to breathe. He gasped for air, but it didn’t nothing to relieve the growing burn of suffocation, as if hundreds of needles pierced through his chest and throat. His heartbeat was now loud in his ears, violently echoing through his skull with the fervor of someone banging on the door. They’d come for him.

 

“Hey,” he heard his friend mutter next to him. “Just take a deep breath, come on…”

 

He pushed the other away when his hand squeezed at his shoulder. It overstimulated him. The room was spinning, the leaned forward until his hands and knees reached the ground. He touched the cool wood with his forehead. It was grounding, being down there. 

 

He pressed his forehead harder against the ground and closed his eyes. His heartbeat began to slow down until it was no longer ringing in his ears. He took in a long, deep breath, which finally alleviated the burn in his chest. 

 

“Daichi?” Sugawara whispered next to him. He’d taken his eye patches off, staring at him in-between long blinks.

 

Sawamura let himself drop to the side, then laid face up, still catching his breath. His forehead and shirt were drenched with cold sweat. He felt as if he’d just run a marathon.

 

“Can I get you anything?”

 

The brunet shook his head and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m…” he coughed, just now realizing how dry his throat was. “It’s okay.”

 

He heard his friend slowly shuffle to lay down next to him. They made eye contact in the dimly lit living room.

 

“Please don’t ask me what I did.”

 

“Fine. I won’t.”

 

“Can you see me from there?” He laid on his side to fully face his friend.

 

“Still a bit blurry, but yeah. I can see you. As long as you don’t move further away.”

 

“Then I won’t,” he smiled lightly. “Sorry I scared you.”

 

The other shrugged. “Just worried. So… are you feeling okay now?”

 

“Yeah. Better,” he took a deep breath, then felt his vision get blurry. Tears began pouring out before he could stop them. 

 

The blond reached out to touch his arm. Sawamura pulled him closer into a hug. 

 

He felt the gentle stroke of Sugawara’s fingers on his back and allowed himself to let it all out. He was exhausted. His own hand found its way into the other’s hair, combing through the silver strands. He wished he could melt into the embrace, stop time so he could linger there forever. His body felt weak, he didn’t have it in him to stand upright, to face the world anymore. Crying felt good, it relieved him—he almost wanted to push the tears out, force them out of his body as if they carried within that overbearing force that kept him down. 

 

Losing the fight against his own body, he fell asleep. 

Chapter 10

Sugawara woke up first. His back ached, as if a tiny needle poked into the deep tissue. He shifted around and felt more definitively the cold, hard surface under his shoulders. They had fallen asleep on the floor, he recalled.

 

His face felt light, naked. Almost hesitantly, he felt the tender skin of his uncovered eyelids. His eyes opened slightly, then quickly shut them back. They were sensitive, as if he'd let shampoo get into them during the shower. He tried opening them again, slowly taking in the blurry shapes around him. 

 

There was an arm around his waist. He reached forward, gently nudging his friend's shoulder.

 

"Daichi," he whispered, closing his eyes again. "Hey, Daichi..."

 

His friend shuffled around and groaned gently. Sugawara nudged him again, this time with a bit more intent.

 

"Hm... Hey..." he heard the other yawn. The arm around his waist tightened a little, pulling him closer. 

 

"Can you help me patch my eyes?" He nudged him one last time. "Or at least grab the sunglasses."

 

Sawamura's arm tensed up and he backed away slightly, as if only now acknowledging their proximity. He sat up and rubbed his face, forcing himself to wake up. "We fell asleep."

 

"Hm-hm," Sugawara nodded. "Can you help me up? It's starting to hurt."

 

"Yeah. Up you go," the brunet picked him up. He didn't usually do so, but it seemed like the quickest option. "Couch or bed?"

 

"Hm... bed."

 

He let himself be laid down, then remained still as his friend sat next to him and carefully applied his eyedrops and redid the patches. Sawamura put the gauze box on the nightstand, turned the light off, and let his body fall back on the bed, his sore shoulders sagging against the pillows. Reality downed on him once again.

 

"Do you..." Sugawara cleared his throat. "Do you want to, like, talk about it..?"

 

"No," Sawamura replied sternly. 

 

"You sure like a mystery."

 

"It's not a mystery. Just none of your business."

 

Sugawara raised his eyebrows. "Ouch."

 

The brunet closed his eyes and pinched his own nose, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. "That came out wrong. Just... Just don't ask me about it anymore, okay? Please."

 

"I guess I'm not used to not being all up on your business," Sugawara took a deep breath. "But sure."

 

"Just this once. I don't want to think about it. Let's talk about something else."

 

Sugawara lightly tapped his fingers. "What time is it?"

 

"It was dark outside," he looked at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. "Eight forty seven. We didn't have dinner. I can cook something."

 

"I'm good, officer."

 

Sawamura chuckled lightly, but his smile was quickly weighed down by the thought that he might no longer be in the police force on the following week. He might even be in jail.

 

"I always thought you'd become a lawyer," Sugawara continued, unaware of his friend's emotional turmoil. "I guess you're still working with the law, in a way."

 

Sawamura hummed, staring up at the ceiling. The wind blew on a branch by the window, projecting moving shades around the room. His friend's shoulder was warm against his own. 

 

He'd thought about it. He even took the university entrance exam, but his family was short on money. He wanted a faster way to earn an income. Maybe his younger siblings could go to college, but that ship had sailed long ago for himself.

 

"I always thought you'd become a teacher," he looked over at his friend, even if he couldn't look back.

 

Sugawara smiled. "Liar, no you didn't. I didn't even know that myself."

 

"Well, I did. I'm not lying," he lightly elbowed him. "Either that or maybe a therapist. You're such a people person."

 

"What about a doctor? I had the grades. We both did."

 

Sawamura smiled. He opened his mouth, but closed it again, rethinking his reply. 

 

"You couldn't handle the blood." He lied, at least in part. His friend did get dizzy around injuries, but that was something exposure could fix. What would stand in his way, Sawamura thought, was the self-imposed pressure. Sugawara would crumble under the responsibility of saving someone's life. He also couldn't handle seeing a patient's health deteriorate. It would eat him alive. Thinking back on it, perhaps being a therapist would also be too much. Being a teacher seemed just right; he was a natural conflict mediator, a caring, empathetic listener, and good with his words. Just enough pressure to challenge him, not enough to break him.

 

His friend often behaved like a pillar, like the glue holding everything together. He was a gentle hand holding a bird towards the sky, watching from the balcony as it flew into the world. Being a teacher was perfect for him. 

 

"Yeah, you might be right. I remember when you got concussed. In that volleyball match, remember? I couldn't even move," he sighed. "I'm not cutout for emergencies. At all."

 

"I doubt that. There's no way the kids don't do something crazy from time to time. When my siblings were little, there was always someone falling down, trying to play with the stove..."

 

"I mean, maybe like a paper cut or someone trying to eat ink, but no life or death emergencies," he chuckled. "My kids are different. They're all so well-behaved."

 

"Different? Are you trying to say something about my siblings?"

 

"Me?" Sugawara pointed at his own chest with fake astonishment. "Never! Those little angels?"

 

"They adore you," Sawamura scoffed. "I can't even imagine what they'll say when they find out uncle Suga thinks they're troublemakers-"

 

"And I'll tell them you're putting words in my mouth," he smiled. "Just praising my own class."

 

Sawamura shook his head and stared up at the ceiling. For some reason, they'd been keeping their tone low—almost as a whisper. It was like muscle memory, transporting him back to nights spent at training camps, both surrounded by their teammates' sleeping bags in a large room lit only by faint, pale moonlight. All he could see was his friend's outline next to him, the silver hair glowing like a light blue aura, and the occasional sparkle from his eyes. 

 

He'd always rationalized that the whispers were just a way to avoid waking up the others—in part, they were. However, deep down, he'd known there was more to it. A shared moment of breaking an unspoken boundary, stepping into something that felt forbidden, yet magnetic. Somewhere only the two of them existed, and which they had to protect by whispering and moving careful, lest its walls would shatter like the instant pop of a bubble.

 

**

**

 

Over a week after the crime, Sawamura still hadn't been caught. He stared at the clock on the wall as if entranced, counting down the minutes until it reached six in the afternoon, marking the end of another shift. Day by day, he felt the pressure lift gradually from his chest. New cases came in, small and large—parking in front of a garage, speeding in a residential area, indecent exposure, and even an attempted murder. Kaito came by his seat as usual, bringing him over roasted coffee and venting about his mother-in-law, chitchatting as Sawamura's eyes alternated between him and the clock. 

 

His appetite was beginning to come back as the anxiety slowly subsided. It was still there, but for once he could catch his mind drifting away from the subject.

 

He'd begun drinking again. In the middle of the night, he'd sit in the living room, glass in his hands, and take large, grimace-inducing sips until his body loosened and his mind for once stopped feeling so convoluted. Drinking as a means to calm down made him uneasy. Last time he'd done it was when he received his badge, and the reality of his future settled in—that he wouldn't go to college, that he would stay in that small town. His friends got to travel, to explore the world and study whatever they wanted, but he had a whole family to help support. Even if he resented them. 

 

After work, Sawamura drove straight to Sugawara's apartment. The evening was unusually warm, the streets empty. He opened the front door and found his friend sitting on the couch, stretching his arm to the side.

 

"You just missed Asahi," he said, turning towards the door. The patches in his eyes were different, probably done at the hospital. 

 

"Ah, that's a shame." He lied. "How was it?"

 

Since Azumane was able to work from home twice a week, he had taken his friend for a round of physical therapy.

 

"Okay, I guess," he shrugged. "Just some stretches and walking. She gave me some exercises to do."

 

"Cool," Sawamura hung his jacket. "That's progress, huh?"

 

"I'm not running any marathons soon, but sure," he smiled. 

 

"As you famously did before."

 

Sugawara shook his head. Sawamura could picture him rolling his eyes under the patches.

 

"Would you maybe be down to go for a walk?" The blond asked, a drag of hesitation in his tone.

 

Sawamura paused, crossing his arms. "Like as in you walking?" The blond nodded. "Hm. I don't know about that, Suga..."

 

"Please," he continued. "The physical therapist said I could give it a try."

 

"Sure, but what if we start inside the apartment?"

 

"I am so sick of this apartment, Daichi," he sighed. "Please. What's the worst that can happen? I feel pain, we call a cab."

 

Sawamura puffed up his cheeks and let out a loud breath. "Well, I mean... Sure. Let me just grab you a jacket, then."

 

**

**

 

They walked around the block. Sugawara was slow and limped slightly because of the brace, but he refused any help. Sawamura walked a half step behind him, prepared for any falls. When they passed by a bar, Sugawara stopped on his tracks—and the brunet almost bumped into him.

 

"Can we get something?"

 

"Like... to drink?"

 

"I'm getting something,"

 

"No, you're not," he held his friend's arm. "What about your medication?"

 

"What about them? I haven't been on antibiotics for a while now."

 

"Okay, what about everything else?"

 

"As long as I don't drink a lot, it's fine."

 

Sawamura shifted to the side to peek into the bar. They had been there a handful of times, starting right after Sugawara moved into his apartment. Azumane had come along as well, even though he wasn't much of a drinker. It was dimly lit, a few men on the balcony, and a couple sitting on a small, circular table near the door. "I still don't think this is a good idea."

 

The blond put his hand on top of Sawamura's, which still held onto his arm. "Please, come on. Just this once."

 

"Why don't we wait another week?"

 

Sugawara's fingers tapped lightly on his. I'm going in with or without you."

 

He sighed. "Oh yeah? And coming back home how?"

 

The other shrugged. "If there's a will, there's a way."

 

He closed his eyes, slightly annoyed, but followed along. He was planning to drink later anyway, so at least now he wouldn't have to do it alone.

 

**

**

 

"I've been thinking about what you said, you know..." Sugawara said, grimacing after another shot of sake. "The therapist thing."

 

"What about it?" Sawamura poured another dose for the both of them.

 

"I don't know, just a bunch of what ifs... The pay might be better, too," he chuckled, his cheeks flustered from the alcohol.

 

"They didn't pay you well?" He only noticed the past tense implications once the words left his mouth, but the other didn't seem to mind. 

 

Sugawara shrugged. "It's not horrible, but I'm not sure where to go from here. Every year comes in a new class, I restart my lessons... I feel stagnated."

 

Sawamura hummed. Deep down, he was almost relieved. All those years, he'd painted up this idealistic, untouchable picture of his friend was a primary school teacher. The chalk-stained cardigans, the piles of graded homework and Teacher's Day gifts on his desk, the smile on his face as he recounted something funny a student had said... Always so caring, so warm and patient. It had always like his friend had found the perfect career for himself, one that contemplated all of his best qualities. And here he was—insecure, full of doubts. The future closing in on him, just as it did for himself.

 

"I mean, I'm sure you update your lessons. And that you learn new stuff, adapt."

 

"Yeah, that's going to be my contribution to humanity. The best class on addition and subtraction the world has ever seen."

 

"Hey, maybe you'll make some kid fall in love with math. And that kid goes on to figure out time travel or something."

 

Sugawara laughed and shook his head. "Sure. But for once it would be nice to be the one doing great things instead of pushing 

others to do great things. Sometimes I feel like I've been a pilar all my life."

 

"I get that," Sawamura took another sip. He knew that feeling, of course he did. It weighed on him. 

 

"Oh, yeah?" He smiled, bringing the glass down from his lips. "You do, captain?"

 

The brunet scoffed. "Especially as captain. All I ever did back then was worry and sort things out for everyone."

 

"You're good at bossing people around."

 

"Gee, thanks..."

 

Sugawara laughed, holding his face in his hands. "That came out wrong. I mean you're like a natural leader. You earn people's trust so easily. If I had to pick someone to be a dictator-"

 

"Don't finish that."

 

"No, like obviously it would be bad, but if I absolutely had to pick..."

 

Sugawara reached out to hold his wrist. 

 

"Got it. Thanks for the honor of being your dictator of choice."

 

The blond's hair was lightly disheveled, his face still flushed from the drink. His hand hand remained gently wrapped around Sawamura's wrist, his thumb curling down so that it pressed lightly into his pulse. He wondered if his friend could feel it quicken. He felt naked.

 

"We should head back soon," he pulled his arm back, face burning all the way down to his neck.

 

**

**

 

They stumbled into the apartment, Sugawara's arm wrapped around Sawamura's shoulders. He kicked the door shut and zig-zagged their way to the couch, letting the blond fall on top of himself. 

 

Both took a second to catch their breath, laughing drunkenly into the dark living room. Sugawara let his face rest on the other's chest.

 

"You did it, captain," he panted, smiling.

 

"Uh-hum," Sawamura sagged against the couch, feeling the world spin around him when he closed his eyes. "I didn't realize we had so much to drink..."

 

"I don't think I'd ever seen you drunk like that," he chuckled. "So unfair I can't actually see it. Is your face red?"

 

Without hesitation, he reached forward to touch Sawamura's face. 

 

The brunet froze in place, sobering up. He was suddenly aware of it all, of his friend's warmth against him, the comfortable weight of his body on top of his own, the cool touch of his fingers against his cheek. He felt himself burn, and he wondered if the other could feel it, if he'd jerk away as if holding a hot stone.

 

 He let his own hand trail up to meet his friend's and looked up to meet those eye patches. It was hard not to pull them away. What he felt went beyond longing—it was like a thirst, a need to see his eyes, to be seen by them. Eye contact had always felt so 

intimate between them. He wanted to look at Sugawara and know that he was looking back at him, that for a moment they had fully captured each other's attention, they were all that existed.

 

His eyes trailed down to his neck, then to his collarbone. Sugawara's shirt was loose there, revealing the large scar left from surgery. He knew where all the major ones were. He also knew how high Sugawara could now lift his left arm, and which spots he'd clutch at when it was around time to take another painkiller.

 

And, once again, he was crying. 

 

"Wait, are you..." Sugawara felt his hand getting wet. "Wait, what's wrong?"

 

He wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the words. Everything felt like it was falling apart, the world was spinning out of its axis. He let himself be hugged, his face and arms caressed as his startled best friend tried to comfort him, but it was like his touch couldn't reach him. It felt as if he was sinking into the ground, muffling everything around them. This world wasn't home anymore, he couldn't recognize it. All he could do was cry, like a child standing by their parents' bedroom after a nightmare, too scared to knock but hoping on of them could hear and rescue them.

 

He cried until he couldn't anymore. His eyes hurt, swollen. His chest felt lighter. Sugawara was curled up around him, caressing his arm in a soothing rhythm.

 

"I did something bad," he mumbled, then immediately regretted it.

 

The room was silent for a moment.

 

"What..." the caress stopped. "What did you do, Daichi?"

 

Sawamura rubbed his own eyes, wondering what got into him. "I just... Nothing. Nothing, forget I said that."

 

"What do you mean you did something bad, Daichi?" Sugawara propped himself up.

 

"Forget it, Suga. I said that without thinking."

 

"Are you in like... Any danger?"

 

"Forget it, just forget it! I didn't mean to say that."

 

"But you did," he held his arm. "And you've been acting so weird lately. I'm worried."

 

"Well, then don't. I'm telling you it's nothing."

 

"Why are you lying to me?" The blond raised his voice, his tone almost pleading.

 

"Fuck, just leave me alone!" He yanked his arm away and stood up, walking away from the couch.

 

"Wait, Daichi!" The other called. Sawamura stood still in place. He knew that even if he took out the patches, Sugawara couldn't see him in the dark. The blond seemed to have come to the same realization, now frozen in place. "Daichi?" 

 

He closed his eyes, overcome with guilt, but didn't move. Sugawara removed the eye patches and his breathing quickened, panic setting in as he confirmed what he dreaded.

 

"Daichi, don't do this..."

 

Sawamura closed his eyes, limbs stiff as if glued to the ground. He wanted to disappear into thin air, to teleport out of that apartment.

 

"Daichi?" his friend's voice came almost as a whisper.

 

He swallowed and rubbed his face. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, rushing back towards the couch. "Shit, I'm sorry..."

 

"Fuck you!" Sugawara pushed his hand away when Sawamura tried to touch his arm. "Genuinely, fuck you, Daichi! I can't believe you did that to me!" 

 

"I panicked, I'm sorry..." he tried touching him again. Sugawara stood up.

 

"Go fuck yourself! Get the hell out of my sight, I don't want to be anywhere near you!"

 

Sawamura buried his face into his hands. He didn’t know what to say. Across the living room, he heard the bedroom door slam shut and lock from the inside.

 

**

**

 

He tried knocking on the door, calling the other’s name. He paced around the living room, and eventually fell asleep on the couch.

 

When he woke up, he found Sugawara grabbing a glass of water. His patches were poorly done. He set the cup on the counter when he heard his friend sitting up on the couch.

 

“I want you to leave,” he said.

 

“Suga…”

 

“I mean it. Get out.”

 

“Let’s just talk…” he made his way to the counter, still keeping a safe distance between them.

 

“I can’t believe you did that to me. How you used it against me,” his voice cracked. “I want you out of my apartment.”

 

Sawamura took a step closer to touch his friend’s arms. He leaned back. “Please, come on…”

 

“You made me feel sick to my stomach. You, of all people, couldn’t have done that to me!”

 

“I know, Suga. I know. I’m so sorry…” he pleaded. “I don’t know what I was thinking…”

 

“I don’t care what you where thinking. Just get out,” the blond paused. “It’s not like I need you here anymore. I can walk, I can move around…”

 

Sawamura sighed. “Suga, I hurt someone.”

 

The sound of his voice seemed to echo across the living room. Sugawara was silent.

 

“The guy who ran you over, killed your friend. I found him,” he took a deep breath. “I found him, and I beat him up. Real bad. I did this on my own, no one at the station knows about it.”

 

His friend still didn’t move.

 

“I’m terrified. I don’t know how bad I hurt him. I don’t know anything. It didn’t seem like anyone else lived with him, he could be dead for all I know,” he felt his stomach drop, nausea overcoming him once again. “He could…”

 

“That’s what you’ve been keeping from me,” Sugawara muttered. 

 

The brunet nodded, warm tears dripping down his face. It felt good to say it out loud, to bare himself to his best friend and cry out emotions he’d been bottling up for far too long.

 

“Fuck, Daichi…” he whispered, reaching forward to hug him.

 

Sawamura welcomed the embrace, pulling his friend closer. They kneeled on the ground, where he allowed himself to be cradled into the blond’s chest, his arms gently enveloping him in what felt like a force field, a portal into a distant reality where they were both well and safe, where no one could ever hurt them. The warmth of his body, the familiar scent of his skin, he grounded himself in them as he’d done countless times throughout the years. That was his safe haven.

 

“Shh…” his friend comforted him, tracing circles around his shoulders. “It’s going to be just fine…”

 

He cried until there were no tears left. Unlike other times, he now for once felt a sense of relief. He was lighter, he could breathe. The morning glow seeping through the blinds left a golden halo around the furniture, birds chirped outside, and his best friend’s body warmed him like a favorite childhood blanket.

 

“Let me redo your patches.”

 

He helped his friend to the couch and went into the master bathroom to wash his face and grab the gauze and tape. His own reflection in the mirror seemed drained, exhausted. Yet, he could now find it in himself to subtly smile at that face, to appreciate the lingering glow in his eyes. 

 

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” Sugawara muttered as he began changing the patches.

 

He didn’t reply. There was not much to say, and he felt like his friend could read his thoughts regardless.

 

“All done,” he said. 

 

Sugawara’s hand moved up to hold his own in place, right on his cheekbone. He was quiet. Sawamura’s heartbeat spiked up. The blond’s fingers trailed up to his wrist, then up to his forearm, where he stopped and gently pulled him closer. 

 

Sawamura was frozen in place, chest burning up as the other’s hands trailed up his shoulders and neck until they found his face. They rested there, thumbs lightly caressing his cheek. Sugawara then leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips.

 

Bells rang inside of Sawamura’s head. His thoughts were scrambled, spinning around the axis of their kiss. For a moment, he was frozen in place, unable to react.

 

“I… Sorry, I-” his friend began, but he pulled him closer, sealing their lips together again.

 

His mind was melting. His hands found their way into the ash blond hair, then around his shoulders, his waist. It was all new, all confusing, but he couldn’t question how much he wanted it. He pulled the other closer, a hand reaching under his shirt when the phone rang.

 

Sugawara pulled away. Unable to put a thought together, Sawamura reached out to grab it and pass it to his friend.

 

“Hi, yes. Yes, this is he…” the blond sat straight on the couch. “Wait, what? Oh, my… Yes! Yes, of course! Yes. I’ll be there…”

 

He hung up and covered his mouth.

 

“I have a donor.”

Chapter 11

Summary:

one day I’ll scan the fic for errors. That day is not today because I hate reading stuff as soon as I write it, pls bear with me 🙏

Fic coming to an end! Ty to everyone who left kudos and comments :))

TW for some mild-ish internalized homophobia btw!

Sawamura knocked gently on the door and walked in. The bedroom was dark, dimly lit by the light coming through half-closed blinds. Sugawara was laying on his side, facing the wall. He'd been there for most of the morning, now pushing into the afternoon.

 

"Are you awake?" He muttered, stepping closer towards the bed.

 

"Yeah," the blond replied, his voice low. He didn't move.

 

Sugawara had seemed excited at first. He'd received all the instructions—how long to fast, when to get to the hospital—and repeated them to himself like a mantra, voice shaking, fingers brushing nervously against his mouth in disbelief. Then, something shifted. He went silent and said he needed to shower. An hour later, when Sawamura stepped into the room, he'd found his friend sleeping. It was odd, but at first he let him be. Now, hours later, the oddity of it all had become too much to ignore.

 

"How are you feeling?" He sat on the mattress.

 

"Great."

 

"It's almost noon. Don't you want to go to the living room?" 

 

"I'm okay."

 

Sawamura sighed and looked around. "What about your medication?"

 

"Already took it."

 

He hummed. "And was it okay? Without any food?"

 

"Just a bit of nausea. I'm okay now."

 

Sawamura knew something was as wrong. It was obvious, glaringly so. He carefully laid down next to his friend, facing his back. 

 

It felt strange. He was lightheaded, his shoulders tensed up, there was a slight buzzing sensations across his arms and chest. He was nervous. Neither had addressed the kiss earlier, and he didn't know if he should. Would it mean anything, or would they pretend it never happened? Would it taint their friendship, would the blond regret it and distance himself? He wondered if that's why Sugawara had isolated himself in the room. 

 

And Sugawara had started it. He knew he had. He replayed it all in his head all morning, as if it was a fading dream he clung to after waking up. It almost made him angry. It made no sense for him to feel like he'd breached past a boundary when he wasn't even the one to start it. He'd reciprocated, he couldn't be in the wrong. And yet, he felt it. Almost as if he was dirty.

 

"What's going on?" He finally asked. "Don't say nothing."

 

It had always been so easy to touch him. To hug him, to fall asleep leaning in each other's shoulders. It had always been light, casual, almost instinctive. Now, he was so aware of himself. Aware of the distance between them. He couldn't touch him. It would mean too much if he did.

 

"Just tired."

 

He sighed, laying on his back to face the ceiling. "Does it have to do with me?" 

 

"Huh?"

 

"Like, do you want me to leave?," he cleared his throat, which felt tighter by the second. "I can leave. I can call Asahi to stay with you, or whoever you want."

 

They were both quiet for a moment. 

 

 "Do..." the blond paused. "Do you want to go?"

 

"No. But you seem like you want me to."

 

The blond hummed. "Well, I don't."

 

"They why are you acting like this?" Sawamura turned back towards him. "Can you at least face me?"

 

Sugawara sighed loudly and turned around. He didn't have his patches on, but he kept his eyes closed at first. He blinked a few times, as if to check his friend was beside him.

 

"Happy?"

 

"Getting there," he tried to keep his voice steady as his heart seemed like it would burst out of his chest. He wanted to kiss him again, to fix the messy strands of silver hair on his forehead and pull his face closer, but he couldn't. 

 

Not only that, but it might never happen again.

 

"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

 

Sugawara shifted on the bed and rubbed his face before lightly blinking again. "I'm scared."

 

Sawamura hummed. "Of the surgery?"

 

The blond nodded. "Sort of. I'm not too thrilled about going under the knife again, but it's not that. I'm scared it's not going to work. It the doctor messes up, or if my body ends up rejecting it..."

 

Sawamura was silent. He wanted to say those were unlikely, but he knew those words would fall flat.

 

"My life kind of sucks right now, but... I had hope, you know? Like, I spent everyday waiting for that call," he fidgeted lightly with the hem of his shirt. "And now it came, and..."

 

"And why not have hope now?" 

 

Sugawara smiled. "It's different, Daichi."

 

"How is it different?"

 

The blond shook his head. 

 

"It really is," he was quiet for a moment. "I think I just want to be alone for a bit, okay?"

 

"Suit yourself, Suga," Sawamura got up from the bed. "You know where I'll be. Let me know if you need anything."

 

He closed the bedroom door behind himself and closed his eyes. They stung. He brought his hand up to muffle the sound of his crying. Gravity weighed on him differently, as if it pulled him down directly from the head. He made it to the couch and laid face up, starring up at the blurring ceiling.

 

He felt ashamed. There was a selfishness inside of him, a selfishness which disgusted him. Even if he couldn't admit it out loud, he knew part of him dreaded how the surgery would impact their relationship. He'd grown used to it all, to coming home to his best friend, to feeling needed and wanted. He'd allowed his feelings for him, the fondness, affection, and budding desire grow and seep into their routines, like a flower he'd nurtured into blooming in the privacy and freedom of those apartment walls. Away from everyone's eyes, their judgements. 

 

He loved him. 

 

It was now impossible to deny it. He loved that man, loved him beyond how one loves a best friend. And what was left for them? A relationship? A police officer and a primary school teacher in a small town, how would that ever work? With the judgement of their families, with the inquisitive eyes of their friends, the scorn of their coworkers? 

 

It wouldn't be socially acceptable anymore for him to sleep there, to cook him dinner every night and talk about their days. Now the outside barged into their little world. And that flower he'd cultivated, it would wither away.

 

**

**

 

Sugawara had called his younger brother to tell them all the big news. When he arrived, Sawamura found it best to let them be. Almost on autopilot, he walked towards the park. 

 

It was the weekend, so it was fuller than usual. The sun was uncomfortably bright, his chest was folding into itself. Leaning over the rusty fence, he watched the children playing around for a bit before calling Azumane.

 

"How busy are you right now?"

 

"Hum... Not at all, actually. Is everything alright?"

 

"Suga has a donor. He's getting the surgery tonight."

 

"Oh! Oh, wow..." he heard the other drop something. "Oh, damn it-"

 

"I can call you later if you're busy."

 

"No! It's fine, I just..." he sat somewhere with a loud thud and sighed. "Wow, that's huge news. So he's getting his vision back?"

 

"Seems like it."

 

"How's he feeling? Pretty excited I bet," he paused for a moment. "Should I get him like a gift or something? Or is that not appropriate..."

 

"Asahi," he pinched his nose bridge.

 

"Sorry, I'm rambling here. I'm just... wow," he took a deep breath. "I can only imagine how much this means to him. Is his family there already, or..?"

 

"His brother's at the apartment," he walked into the park and towards the familiar tall tree. "His parents will probably be there soon, too."

 

"Is recovery gonna be quick? I bet he's crazy to just go back to his regular life..." he pondered. "Both of you, I guess."

 

Sawamura stopped on his track right by the tree. He stared at it intently, into the lines and ridges of the old trunk. It felt rough under his fingertips. He closed his eyes.

 

"Asahi, I..." he sighed. "We kissed."

 

His friend was silent on the other end. He rubbed his temples and swallowed dry.

 

"Oh."

 

"What?" He pressed. All he wanted was for the other to say something, to keep talking. His silence made him nervous.

 

"Well," he cleared his throat. "I guess I owe Yū some lunch."

 

Sawamura frowned. "What?"

 

"I know know if he even remembers the bet..."

 

"There was a bet?" His eyes widened in confusion.

 

"It was his idea!" Azumane defended himself. 

 

"How..." he rested his back against the trunk. 

 

"Daichi, it was kind of obvious when you think about it..." he cleared his throat. "But I didn't think you guys would actually get to it."

 

"And he did?"

 

"Well, I mean... He won the bet."

 

Sawamura almost wanted to laugh. His chest felt light, as if an anchor was lifted from his shoulders. It was funny, it warranted at least a smile, and yet his body reacted in the complete opposite way. His eyes filled with tears, his knees trembled and forced him to sit on the ground.

 

"Are you..."

 

"No," he denied, pathetically so. "I just..."

 

"We can talk about it. If you want."

 

He pulled his cellphone away so Azumane couldn't hear his muffled sobs. He didn't fully understand why he was crying. There was so much he could think of, and at the same time nothing at all. His mind was overwhelmed to the point of blanking.

 

"I just..." he swallowed. "I'm just confused. That's all."

 

"That's fine, I mean... It's a lot to process, You said it all happened today?"

 

"Yeah. Yeah, but..." he took another deep breath. "You know what? It doesn't matter right now. I really just wanted to tell you about his surgery. I'll sit on the whole thing after, when he's okay."

 

"Hum..." Azumane seemed to ponder. "Sure. Thanks for letting me know. I'll get him a gift, I think..."

 

"Yeah," Sawamura laughed through the tears. "Yeah, do that."

 

His friend was silent for a few seconds. "I'm glad you told me, Daichi. Really. You know you can talk to me about anything, yeah?"

 

"Thank you, Asahi. I'll call you later."

 

**

**

 

Sawamura walked around the park one more time and made it back to the apartment. Sugawara was in the living room, teaching Braille to his younger brother. Sato jumped out of the couch at the sight of the brunet.

 

"Hey, there," he greeted the younger boy, trying not to stumble back with his hug. "Just you? Where are your parents?"

 

"They're coming," Sato replied. "Should be here in like an hour or so."

 

Sawamura felt his own stomach growling and looked outside. It was still light outside, but definitely getting into late afternoon. "Have you eaten?"

 

"I had some protein bars on the drive here..."

 

"Let me cook you something. Suga, can you have anything?" He knew the answer, but it felt polite to ask.

 

The blond shook his head, laying on the couch. "Still fasting. Don't cook anything too nice in solidarity, yeah?"

 

The brunet chuckled and began preparing a simple meal for the both of them. There wasn't too much in the fridge anyway—he'd been planning to do groceries soon. Sugawara's parents would probably do them if they oversaw his recovery. The thought knocked the smile right off his face.

 

As they were eating, tye couple arrived. Just as Sawamura had imagined, they brought small suitcases. They made it into the living room and hugged their sons, then turned towards him. 

 

"I can't even begin to thank you..." Sugawara's mother hugged him tightly, her husband standing just a step behind. "Was he a handful?"

 

"Not at all," he tried to chuckle, matching their humorous tone. Deep down, he felt as if someone stabbed him right into the chest. The sun was setting, Sugawara's relatives stood out in the living room like cracks in a jar. It all felt so odd, almost dreamlike. He should be happy. 

 

He wanted to yell.

 

"It's almost time, right, dear?" His mother looked down at her watch. "Didn't the doctor say..?"

 

"I can drive," Sawamura almost pleaded. He tried to keep his voice firm, his expression casual.

 

"Oh, we'd never ask you..."

 

"I really don't mind," his chest tightened. 

 

"I brought my car, son," Sugawara's father touched his shoulder. "We cam drive him, don't worry about it."

 

"But..."

 

"You should go home and get some sleep, dear. You look exhausted," his mother smiled at him.

 

And so they left.

 

They got into the car, Sugawara's father drove away. Sawamura stayed in the living room, body heavy on the chair. He slowly washed the dishes. Gravity weighed on his shoulders. Lightheaded, he took a last look around. He walked outside and locked the door—spare key in the flower pot, just as he’d first found it. Then, he left.