After school aches

Healing

Note from the author: 

Howdy, its been a while. To be quite honest I got stuck writing this final chapter, then I decided fuck it, and then I forgot about it, and then life continued. I am now a junior in college trying to get a degree in painting during an epidemic. Low and behold, I get an email saying someone commented and here I am. Firstly, damn every single comment on here for making me want to finish what I started, because it meant I had to reread this. (Also yes, I realize the irony of my last reply on this story being "It's gonna take a while.")  And secondly, I hope everyone stays safe, and that this update brings you some joy. Dig in. I figured if you've waited this long, it better be good.

It was cold, out on the bridge, But Suga didn't really notice anymore. His teeth were chattering and His legs were shaking.

He was so exhausted. He tried not to sob as he realized he would have to go back to school tomorrow. His shoulders shook with nervous laughter, as he tried desperately not to cry. Funny, considering  he was alone. Its not like anyone would see him. But still, he couldn't let himself show weakness.

The tears fell anyway. 

His entire body was sore. Every muscle hurt, every hair throbbed. He didn't know how he would survive. Every day was exactly the same.  He was completely trapped. It wasn't like he could do anything differently. Everything just moved and kept going, relentlessly, whether he liked it or not. The next day just came and went, uncaring if he couldn't take it anymore.

Sometimes it all just came crashing down on him without warning. Everything just felt endless.

He felt so stupid. 

He wiped his eyes and reached for his phone but remembered he'd left his bag. His hands found their way around his legs and he pressed his face against his bare, bruised knees. 

It was getting dark very quickly, but he couldn't find the self preservation to care. 
He knew it was stupid to stay out late at night in the middle of nowhere without his phone, but he also knew seeing his dismembered body appearing on the news would really suck for his parents and the thought comforted him just a little bit.
He allowed himself to imagine his parents shocked faces for just a moment longer, before assembling a route home in his head.

His thoughts were abruptly cut off by a large hand on his shoulder. He had a brief moment of panic, his first thought being This is how I die. He is in death what he was in life: a dumbass.
But when he looked up it wasn't a serial killer, it was Daichi, brown eyes muddy with concern. 

Seeing Daichi upset hurt the same way the bruise on his knee did: down to the muscle. 

Suga almost wished it was a serial killer.

Daichi sat down next to him. 

There was silence between them for a good long time, Suga not knowing what to say, and Dai trying to think of what to say. There was a wound that had opened between them and neither knew how to close it without the other bleeding out. They had grown apart in all the ways that mattered, and neither knew how to talk about it, because they'd spent so long avoiding it. It sometimes felt like the only reason they were together was that Dai didn't ask too many questions. No one asked Suga how he was doing, and Daichi had realized that's what he wanted. Because the moment Suga tried to answer he'd fall apart. 

So Daichi never tried to make him.

Suga was losing an internal battle. The side of him fighting to maintain any semblance of stability in the absence of support, versus the side of him that needed Daichi like he needed air. If he relied on Daichi he wouldn't be on his own anymore, and he didn't know how to do that.