"See you guys tomorrow." 
                          
We stared at Hinata in disbelief. He was quick to get on his bike and left, not bothering to wait for any of us. 
                          
Nishinoya and I looked at each other in confusion. 
                          
"He just left, right?" He asked me, confusion written on his face. "Right?" 
                          
I nodded, still processing what had happened. "He.. Did just leave... That's the first." 
                          
And I had hoped it wasn't the last. 
                          
If only I had the courage to stop him. To talk to him. To say something, do something. 
                          
If only... I had seen the signs. 
                          
***
                          
Hinata p.o.v 
                          
I reached home, parked my bike and went inside. 
                          
"I'm home!" I greeted as I took off my shoes. I looked around and realized it was quiet. "..Mom? Natsu..?" 
                          
Checking my phone, I realized it was 10 pm. Ah... They're asleep... 
                          
Apologizing under my breath, I picked my bags and placed them as quietly as I could on the dining table. Yawning, I went to the kitchen to grab a snack. 
                          
Until I heard the front door. 
                          
Freezing, I slowly went to the cabinet and opened it, searching for something to protect myself with as I walked to the front door.
                          
It sounded like someone was trying to enter by picking the lock. 
                          
No one should be out at this hour.. Not even Kageyama would be dumb enough to try and break-in. Besides, he knows where the spare key is. Even- 
                          
The door clicked and the figure that came in through the door completed my thoughts. I couldn't move. My arms and legs frozen as I took in the familiar huge chunk of flesh that stood before me. 
                          
My father smiled, a sloppy grin on his face. "Ah... Hello, son." 
                          
He reeked of alcohol.
                          
He kept his eye on me as he locked the door. I wanted to make a move, only he moved faster than my limbs. He dashed forward and cupped my mouth, daring me to make a sound. I whimpered, dropping the wooden spoon that I had managed to grab. 
                          
I closed my eyes, not even daring to look at what he was going to do to me. 
                          
I was aware of what was happening around me and all I wanted to do was scream. Run. And the only thing I managed to do was cry. It hurt. Everywhere hurt. I wanted it to end. All of it. 
                          
***
                          
It was over. 
                          
An hour had passed. 
                          
There was no reply.
                          
Through tears, I texted him. 
                          
That was the last of it. 
                          
I had to tell him. I had to tell someone. 
                          
My chest hurt.
                          
Every part of me did. And I wanted to get rid of it. Looking around, I grabbed the penknife and my pills that had longed been touched on my desk. 
                          
I cut, deep until my wrist was covered in red. But despite doing that, the pain in my chest didn't disappear. I stabbed my bedroom floor in silent anguish, only managing silent cries. 
                          
Then I heard something snap. My limbs moved on its own, my mind blank. Nothing mattered to me anymore. I took the prescription and stuffed it down my throat. 
                          
The pain only intensified. 
                          
Trying to erase the pain, I continuously took the pills with shaking hands. I kept at it.  
                          
Until I felt my chest and throat tighten. My legs gave in, collapsing to the floor. The pain was temporary as I clawed at my throat. 
                          
My vision became blurry, the pain in my chest disappearing and the only sound that could be heard in that tiny room of mine was the sound of my breathing. 
                          
Why am I fighting..? Why should I...? What am I.. fighting for...? My father's right... I am pathetic... I am... A... Coward... 
                          
I deserve to die...
                          
I closed my eyes, feeling a tear slide down my cheek. I let my body go limp, giving in to the darkness that tugged at the back of my mind.
                          
It's... Finally.... Over.... 
                          
***