Chapter Text
The feeling of living alone in the house his family had left behind felt like nothing he expected. It wasn’t the first time he’d been living alone on his own. He had already been an adult after all. He even played for a team miles away from his family several times. However, there’s still something so isolating about it now despite the degree of freedom he has over his life now.
It was now late February.
The video calls between Japan and Brazil were constant, with his family checking in on him frequently, especially Natsu. She may act unruffled about his move but it was obvious that she misses her big brother. His mother and father were consistent on checking up on his well-being, and he was consistent in making sure he doesn’t make them worry.
“Hey! You’re early today!” Furukawa greeted Shouyou with a bright smile when he arrived at the local gym, the usual bounce back in his step.
Shouyou grinned, always glad to be back in the gym again despite being there for most of the week. He had been joining in with the others for a couple of weeks now. Furukawa had quickly become more than just a mentor—he was an important link connecting back the sport.
“I guess I’m getting the hang of things,” Shouyou said, stretching his arms above his head. He was still adjusting to the rhythm of the urban life, but the thought of returning to something he loved gave him a sense of purpose. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”
“Well, today we’re working on conditioning. You’ve been doing great transitioning to indoors, but we need to fine-tune that endurance and your coordination with the team, especially if you’re thinking of getting back into competitive volleyball,” Furukawa replied, his face thoughtful.
Shouyou nodded, eager to get started. He was more than ready to dive into his training, having come to terms with being back now. His mind was clearer than ever since his return or regression, whatever you may call it.
With his language certification nearly processed, he would soon be starting high school, starting his education anew. The thought of attending school again at his (mental) age, now that he had experienced so much more in life, felt strange. But volleyball was a constant. And he’s happy about that fact at least.
“You’ve been putting in a lot of time practicing indoor volleyball even in Brazil, haven’t you? But not as much as beach I suppose,” Furukawa says, tossing a ball toward Shouyou. He caught it with ease, his reflexes sharp as always.
Shouyou threw the ball into the cart after giving it a quick wipe with the towel he snatched beforehand, and gave a brief nod. “Yeah, lots of beach volleyball. It has a lot of similarities with indoor volleyball, and a lot of differences as well but I don’t think these differences are bad.”
Furukawa nods in understanding. “I see. But we’ll see if we can bring some of that into your training here. The core work, balance, speed—they’re all critical, no matter where you’re playing. And as for the mental side of it… well, we’ll talk more about that later. Playing with only two players did give you more court awareness but that may hinder you when playing with more on the court.”
They spent the next few hours going through drills, focusing on strengthening everyone’s core, agility, and speed. Furukawa’s approach to conditioning was thorough—he wasn’t just about running drills to, quote unquote some of the kids from the team, "make them suffer"; he was about making sure the body moved with intention and precision. Shouyou felt the burn in his muscles, the strain of pushing his limits, but something sparked within him—something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Eventually, their activities shifted toward more dynamic movements, things that required quicker reflexes, like jumping to block or leaping into a spike, all the while coordinating with the rest of the team. And so, the group was divided for a match.
The gym was filled with noises of spikers calling for a toss, encouragements from the people in the same team, and the rhythmic squeaking of shoes against the floor, the faint echo of their movement reverberating in the space.
“Good spike!" Furukawa called out. "Libero! Watch out and move out of the way after you make a dig.”
Shouyou sprinted across the gym floor, positioning himself for a jump to intercept the incoming ball. He could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he planted his feet and leapt into the air. He spikes the ball down the other side of the court, the ball snug perfectly on the lines and curves of his palms as he comes in contact with it. The receive was impeccable. The toss was basic but it was practically perfect. The spike was strong enough to penetrate through the block.
But something went wrong during his landing.
In his haste to avoid a collision with the libero—who had suddenly cramped up and was unable to move out of the way after the dig—Shouyou tried to shift his weight midair, too abruptly perhaps. He ended up rolling an ankle as he landed awkwardly. There was a sharp, sudden pain and his body jerked with the force of it. He stumbled slightly before catching himself, the net he crashed into holding him up.
“Shouyou! Are you alright?” Furukawa rushed to his side, concern lacing his voice.
Shouyou gritted his teeth, trying not to make a big deal of it. He wasn’t a fan of showing weakness, especially not in front of someone like Furukawa, who had become an unexpected source of guidance. He slowly straightened up and put weight on his injured foot gingerly, wincing at the dull throb in his ankle.
“Yeah, it’s nothing,” Shouyou muttered, waving him off. “I’ll be fine, I can play.”
But Furukawa wasn’t buying it.
“You’re not fooling anyone. Let’s take a break, okay? No point in pushing through an injury right now. You can’t risk it especially since you’re planning on playing competitively.”
“Hinata-san, I’m sorry.” The libero whose face crumpled in pain and sitting on the floor apologized to him and he replies with a soft, “It’s okay, I’ll be fine. Take care of your cramp first.”
“Alright, everyone,” Furukawa called out, raising his voice to get their attention. “Take fifteen. Shouyou’s got a minor injury, and we need to let him rest for a bit.” His tone was calm, but firm as he addresses the kids rest of the group. “Takizawa, bring the other kid to the infirmary!” the old coach says to his assistant who was helping the libero with his cramp get up.
“Understood!” the rest of the group chorused, some giving Shouyou a quick glance of concern before they all scattered, heading to the water station and the corner of the gym to stretch out. Furukawa lingered for a moment longer, watching his players, before turning his attention back to Shouyou.
The redhead then, allowed Furukawa to help him sit on the sidelines. The pain wasn’t unbearable, but it was enough to make him pause and reassess. How had he managed to injure himself so easily? Maybe he had pushed too hard. Maybe his body wasn’t as resilient as it had been before. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated. How long would it take to get back to where he was? How long would it take to feel like he was truly back in control of his own body?
Furukawa sat beside him, his gaze softening as he watched Shouyou’s frustration. “It’s normal to feel this way when you get an injury,” he said, breaking the silence. “Your body is still growing, son. And you’re still adjusting to this shift. Let’s be patient and take it slow.”
Shouyou nodded, the words sinking in. Patience. That was something he had never been particularly good at. But perhaps it was what he needed now. He knew exactly what broke him in his previous life but it seems like in his haste to start over, he had forgotten about it. Perhaps his mentality also regressed with his age.
Furukawa patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll take you to the infirmary. Let’s get that ankle wrapped. It’s probably nothing serious, but it’s better to be safe. We’ve got time, and it’s more important to make sure you heal properly than to rush back into it."
With a resigned sigh, Shouyou nodded and allowed Furukawa to guide him out of the gym and toward the small infirmary room at the back of the building. The hallway was silent except for the low humming of one of the old lightbulbs and the distant sound of the team’s chatter. The infirmary was a small room at the end of the hall. The familiar clean scent of antiseptic and the stark white wall of the infirmary made him feel like a teenager again—back when he had to be pulled out from the game, benched at nationals after getting a fever. He had spent a fair amount of time in this same kind of environment, surrounded by the soft murmur of a friend, Kenma, and the distant thump of volleyballs being spiked on the court as he watches from the screen of the tablet.
The other kid was also in the room, still getting help for his cramp. Furukawa closes the curtain around a vacant bed and helped Shouyou settle in. The older man sat on the stool next to the bed. “Okay, let’s see how bad this is.”
Furukawa removes Shouyou’s left shoe and sock with as much gentleness the old man could muster, the joint was already starting to swell, and the pain had a dull, gnawing quality to it that he couldn't ignore any longer.
“You’re lucky—it doesn’t seem to be anything too serious. It’s likely a mild sprain, but we’ll need to wrap it and keep an eye on it.”
Shouyou winced as Furukawa gently poked and prodded on his ankle to check. The discomfort made him grit his teeth, but he tried to keep his focus on breathing slowly.
"Try to stay still," Furukawa murmured as he started pulling out the necessary supplies from the cabinet: an elastic bandage, ice packs, and some antiseptic to clean the area. "We don’t want this turning into anything worse. You don’t want to deal with a more severe injury, not when you’re just getting started."
Shouyou nodded in agreement, his mind still lingering on the moments before his ankle gave out.
The way his body had twisted just a bit too far. The faint feeling of helplessness that had struck him in the split second before the pain hit. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of that event in his life.
“I really don’t want to be a drag,” Shouyou said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Furukawa paused for a moment, the ice pack in his hand as he looked up at Shouyou, who was staring down at his ankle with furrowed brows.
“Hey,” Furukawa said, his voice firm but gentle. “Injuries are part of it. It’s not about being a drag; it’s about knowing how to recover properly so you can come back stronger. If you push yourself too hard, that’s when things get worse. You can’t rush this.”
“I guess,” Shouyou muttered, looking up at Furukawa with a sheepish smile. “I just hate sitting out while everyone else is playing. It’s frustrating.”
Furukawa chuckled softly, securing the bandage around Shouyou’s ankle with practiced hands. “I understand. But if you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself sitting out for a lot longer than you want. Besides, you can take this time to rest, school’s starting in a week.
“Yeah,” Shouyou agreed, though it didn’t make him feel any better. “Still… I’m here to get better, not just sit on the sidelines.”
“I know you’re eager to get back out there,” Furukawa said with a reassuring smile, finishing up the wrap and helping him settle into a more comfortable position. “But this isn’t a sprint. We’re building you for a marathon. Sometimes that means taking a step back when you need to, so you can come back stronger. Don’t forget that.”
Shouyou leaned back against the pillow, feeling the coolness of the ice pack against his swollen ankle. Furukawa’s words sunk in slowly, but it didn’t make him feel any less upset. It wasn’t just the injury itself that bothered him—it was the frustration of being helpless that came with it. He had always been the one to push through, never showing weakness, never backing down. To be told to rest, to pause, felt like he was somehow betraying the instincts that had gotten him this far.
(Perhaps this was also the reason on how his past life had ended that way, a voice whispered from the back of his mind)
Still, he needed to take care of his body, not just for himself, but for his future. Furukawa’s words had snapped him out of the depressive hole he dug himself into and reminded him of restraint. He knew exactly how this would end if he still insisted on his desires.
Furukawa gave him a pat on the shoulder, standing up and gathering the supplies. “I’ll leave you to rest. Remember what I said.”
Shouyou sighed, his body sinking further into the cot. “Thanks, Furukawa-san,” he muttered. “I’ll try not to let this mess with my head too much.”
“You’ll be fine,” Furukawa reassured him. “Take it easy for a few weeks. I’ll get you an ankle brace to bring home later.”
As Furukawa stepped out of the infirmary, leaving Shouyou alone with his thoughts, the redhead closed his eyes and focused on the gentle rhythm of his breathing. The gym was still alive with the sound of practice.. He knew he would return to court, sooner or later. For now, he had to be patient, not just with his ankle, but with himself.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts. It was a message from his mother, as usual, reminding him to eat well and take care of himself. Natsu had sent a voice message this time, full of her usual energy.
“Nii-chan! Don’t forget, Mom says you have to take care of yourself! And tell me about the volleyball stuff when you get a chance, okay? Love you!”
Shouyou chuckled, shaking his head as he listened to his sister’s voice. No matter how far away they were, she always found a way to bring him back down to earth.
“I’ll call her later,” he murmured, sending a quick reply before putting his phone away.
{…}