chapter 23

                                    

                                          
Kageyama's pov 
I got home later that night from the burial service. I was still bewildered everytime I looked at the letter.
                          
Was I ready to read it?
                          
Was I ready to read the last thing he ever wrote to me?
                          
Was I ready to endure even more pain?
                          
I didn't know.
                          
I opened my dresser, and carefully placed the letter deep inside the back of a drawer. I figured that if I was questioning myself into reading the letter, then I should give it some time...
                          
Enough time until I was ready.
                          
Time skip... about 2 weeks after the burial; about 4 weeks after Shouyou's passing...
                          
Kageyama's pov 
I finally went back to school last week. After 3 weeks of not attending, the school contacted my parents and they had to talk to me.
                          
"Tobio, we know its been really rough for you in the last couple of weeks, but the school called. We only want what's best for you, and right now I think the best option is to go." My mom told me.
                          
If school and my mom didn't force me to go, I wouldn't have gone for probably the next couple of months.
                          
My first day back from the "incident," everyone wasn't the same. Everyone seemed more down. The little ball of sunshine that would run through the hallways wasn't there anymore.
                          
The guidance counselor of Karasuno High had a meeting with me. He just ranted on about stuff that I wasn't paying attention to. My mind blurred out whatever he was saying. 
                          
I didn't go to Volleyball practice even though I did go to school. That would've been too much. The others eventually went back, but I couldn't. And I knew that even for the other teammates, it wasn't the same for them either. 
                          
After my first week back, it was the weekend.
                          
I sat on my bed and stared at the wall.
                          
I felt empty. 
                          
I looked over at my drawers.
                          
I got up from my bed, and walked over to them. I opened the top drawer and there, staring back at me, was the envelope. I picked it up and began my gaze at it. I had a gut feeling that it was the right time.
                          
I sat down on my bedroom floor, my back against a wall. I carefully opened the envelope. My heart was racing; why was I so nervous? 
                          
The envelope was opened, and I gently slid the letter out. My breathing starting getting a lot heavier. I quickly closed my eyes and told myself to calm down.
                          
I opened my eyes, and in my hand was the letter. I unfolded the paper, and began reading to myself.
                          
"Dear Kageyama,
        I don't really know how to start this letter, and it feels weird knowing that you'll be reading this without me around. Since I can't really make a proper introduction, I will get straight to the point."
                          
I closed my eyes again in pain. I was reading the last thing he gave me. I slowly opened my eyes again and continued.
                          
"I know you were wanting answers from me, so I guess I can give them to you now. You know... now that I am not here (it feels weird writing about myself in past tense). Anyways, I have had a depression disorder since I was 12 years old. I didn't want to tell anyone because I didn't want people knowing the reason my depression started. But I will tell you now. It was all my fault that my parents split up. I was the reason. My dad was an abusive alcoholic, so when my mom found out he was beating me up, she divorced him. If I had just sucked it up, maybe I could've had a happy life with a perfectly normal family. But instead, I hid behind my mom and she had to end things. That wasn't the only reason I had depression though. It was the trigger. I have always felt like there was something wrong with me. In simple terms, I hated myself.