❝when he's on the court, it feels like neither side can breathe properly without his permission. he rules above all in the court. ❞
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a/n: now, you may be wondering where the hell i went. that's a seriously good question and the answer is, i don't really know! things have happened, some things haven't happened, idk. isolating sorta has me quaking in boredom. i'm here to... drum roll please....
update this book!
anyways, recapping the last chapter if you don't wanna read it:
> after owning up to his 'sinful pride', m/n confronts coach ukai who tells him they won't put his skills to waste.
> somewhat relieved, m/n goes to a florist to pick up a bouquet of red spider lilies and pink carnations. actually, i chose these flowers for their meanings. red spider lilies represent the afterlife, and they guide people to their next life to reincarnate. pink carnations symbolise a mother's love, a deep and unconditional love. they also represent gratitude and a feeling of 'i'll never forget you.'
> m/n goes to the grave of his parents where he makes a declaration to both himself and his parents that he'll begin to live his life properly from here on.
and here's our favourite scene from the last chapter:
> a paparazzo catches m/n at the grave of his parents and takes a picture, claiming it will sell for good.
also whilst writing that, i totally forgot some readers would be new and not know about my i think 4-5 month(?) hiatus! sorry to those people ;)
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home, strange place it was. it'd always given m/n a suffocating feeling around his throat, like a drowning man in the ocean, he wanted to claw his way out of that wretched place, he wanted to escape it's grip so desperately, but he never could. like a drowning man loves air, m/n loved being free, free from the clutches from the place he called home.
strings would tighten around his heart- that was usually a description people gave when they were in love, but for m/n, those strings were chains which held him captive. his freedom and happiness would be locked up by the unforgiving despair of being home. the same chains would tug at his senses, a cold silence constantly falling over him. at home, m/n was truly alone, with his own body, his cruel thoughts and the tortuous memories of the past.
m/n l/n...
was convinced that he had killed his parents.
not physically of course, he was only an innocent youth when it happened, but he knew it happened because of him. when m/n was a young, bright child, the amount of money his parents received after m/n had won competitions was exposed to the world. a malicious user had found out and decided that they were going to ruin m/n for the rest of his life.
m/n was abducted. kidnapped.
the feeling of tight ropes burning against his slim, fragile wrists as he'd try to twist out of them and end up with rope cuts, or the immense pounding of his heartbeat that silenced any other noise, m/n could feel the beating in his ears, along with the physical thumping inside his chest. that day, he was blinded. he couldn't see, his eyes were covered. the terror of being unable to see, unable to know where he was, who had stolen him from the loving care of his parents. he missed his mother's warm embrace, her doting words of affection. he missed his father's dorky jokes and playful roughhousing.
he felt disgusting as he heard the voices of his parents. m/n's parents had done the typical abduction mistake, instead of alerting the police, they came with the ransom, genuinely believing they could have their son back. m/n could hear their pleads- desperately begging for their son to return to them, whilst the merciless men laughed. their cruel mocking gave him chills, and before m/n even realised it happened...
loud, ear-piercing sounds punctured the air.
gunshots. they were gunshots. m/n's heart stopped, his hands went numb, he couldn't feel anything, his world was spinning and he couldn't even see. though, no tears fell from his eyes. where was his movie cliche? why wasn't he crying? he never knew. from that on, m/n could never truly see himself correctly afterwards. there was most definitely something wrong with him for not crying.
a week later, the police found him, bound onto the same chair which he hadn't moved an inch from. his abductors were caught in the same building, intoxicated off of their hooks. arrested each of them, all seven, and sentenced to prison for the murder of m/n's parents and also his kidnapping. they were each sentenced over fifty years, already old in age, they were sure to rot in prison.
m/n inherited everything from his parents. their belongings, their house and even the money that had gotten them killed.
he ran away. m/n ran away to america, to a relative who never really cared for him anyways. but it was better than being in japan where he got his parents murdered. his small, weak heart couldn't handle the overflowing, endless guilt, and so he promised himself he'd return when he was strong, strong enough to handle the pain and look past it.
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here m/n was. he was strong now. he was prideful, but he'd come to accept and embrace it. he'd grown big and tall, healthy, good-looking, confident. even if he did have some personality problems as daichi stated, he was growing and changing.
for once, happily, he sat at home. home no longer had that bitter feeling, it felt rather welcoming. it was a smooth, calming embrace which seemed to gulf him in, and m/n contently accepted it. home was no longer suffocating, he felt truly alive at home, the way he did with karasuno.
karasuno. some of those boys were truly irreplaceable in his heart. they held positions in places m/n had never even thought about letting people into.
karasuno.
m/n's phone rang inside of his pocket. the vibration alerted him as he pulled it out, checking the contact name. 'hitoka~ ✦'. it surprised him, hitoka hadn't called him since he'd given her his number. they'd only texted occasionally. without wasting any more time, m/n picked up the call.
"hito-"
"M/N, HAVE YOU SEEN THE WEB?!"
"the news? nope, why?"
"THEY- THE PAPARAZZI- THERE'S PICTURES OF YOU AT YOUR PARENTS' GRAVES!"
silence.
there was a deafening silence in m/n's ears. as quiet as the calm before the storm. a silence so quiet, that it felt like he were screaming. screaming, pleading, wishing for it to be a dream. he could no longer hear yachi's voice over the phone, there was no point. he ended the call.
the calm before the storm was truly petrifying.
his shoulders sunk, he threw his head back on the sofa, staring emptily at the ceiling. that wasn't the way he wanted the world to find out. the world- which once betrayed him, he never wanted them to know. he hated the world for loving him. if the world had not loved him, he would never of lost his parents. if the world had not rewarded him, he wouldn't of lost those he loved most dearly.
what even was the point? the world had found out.
was there even a point anymore?
assessing his situation, he was pathetic. he had only barely an hour ago decided he would live proud, and here he was, slumping in his own despair. before felt like a positive fever dream, like seeing a mirage in a desert. a bitter chuckle escaped hims lips- there was no way in hell he was ever going to be content in life.
screw it. he'd just continue living the way he had. suffocating in his own misery, only showing himself to be happy in the eyes of others. he just had to continue acting, until it was all over. until he could rest from his agony.
m/n l/n was not perfect.
he was hurt, hurt so awfully that the thought of recovery never passed his mind.
he just needed someone,
anyone.