Pairing: Sawamura Daichi/Azumane Asahi
Prompt: Seasons / Injury / Same team AU*
Rating: G
Ao3
Match point in the semi-finals. If they managed to pull this off, they were going to the finals. They could win. Daichi’s thighs were screaming, his arms were on fire, and his body was bathed in sweat. He stared at his team members, and it was obvious they were in agony. Daichi didn’t know how to rally them--he didn’t know how to get them to fight for just one more round. Just one more. But he knew better than most how exhausting a long deuce could get. They were rapidly approaching the thirties, and Daichi didn’t know how much fight he had left in him. He was nervous--this level of exhaustion wasn’t good.
This was when accidents happened.
He took an easy breath and listened to the sound of Asahi’s palm smacking the ball, his breath coming out in a soft grunt of exertion… Asahi’s presence made it easier. Asahi was their ace. In the end, he would take care of it, if need be. Daichi could rely on him, and in turn, he knew Asahi relied on Daichi. It was their gentle give and take, the same since they were 15 years old. A lot had changed since then, from Asahi’s ever-fluctuating hair cut to the overwhelming power of his jump serve. Daichi was proud to call him his teammate, but he couldn’t afford to pause. Not for an instant, because the opposing team received Asahi’s serve. It wasn’t a clean receive by any means, but an attack was coming. Thankfully, Daichi was in perfect position to pick up and counter. The ball went up, and the rally continued.
Back and forth they went, the ball not touching the floor no matter what they did. Daichi was panting, desperately wishing for the ball to drop...just drop. Preferably on the opponent’s side, of course, but he just wanted it to be over. He was exhausted, his team was exhausted, and his ears were ringing with the roar of the crowd. Then, the ball started dropping. It was out of Daichi’s reach. With looming horror, he came to the conclusion that he just didn’t have another rally in him. He had no more to give. If the opposing team scored, they’d win. They’d destroy them.
Before Daichi could even mourn their inevitable loss, Asahi shot forward, his arm stretched wide. He only just got a hand on it as he dove forward, landing hard on his right side. The ball balanced on the net precariously for a few seconds before plummeting to the gym floor on the opponent’s side--they were unprepared for the save. After a few seconds of silence, the gym erupted into cheers. Daichi was elated--they had won! And they were on their way to the finals!
He turned to embrace Asahi, maybe give him shit for that point, but he wasn’t there. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t gotten up off the floor. He remained where he’d fallen, clutching his shoulder. His face was contorted in pain, his skin had turned ashen with shock, and his whole body was shaking. Their manager, trained in first aid, flew off the bench, her bag at the ready. She’d been the only one to notice in the sudden revelry, but when the team turned to realize their ace wasn’t there, they fell quiet. All Daichi had to hear was their manager shouting to their coach, ‘he’s going into shock’ before his body found his last energy stores to rush to his side.
Tears were running down Asahi’s face, but his eyes were wide. His teeth were clenched shut, small hisses of pain escaping as he tried to catch his breath; “It hurts. It hurts so much.”
“Where?” Daichi asked softly, gently patting Asahi’s hip. He tangled the fingers of his other hand into Asahi’s uninjured hand. “Where does it hurt?”
“Shoulder,” Asahi ground out through his teeth, squeezing Daichi’s fingers almost painfully tight. “My shoulder. When I dove…”
Asahi cut off with a pained sob, trying to curl in on himself to escape the pain. Daichi had never felt so helpless before. Not when he’d collided with Tanaka’s shoulder, not when they’d lost Interhigh...never. Not until a pair of staff members came over to Asahi, shining a small penlight in his eyes and asking him a variety of questions. Asking him if he could stand, asking if he was dizzy or nauseous, asking him where he was… he hadn’t hit his head, Daichi wanted to shout. But he didn’t. He just quietly watched them lead him away, his hands left cold for want of Asahi’s warmth as their contact slipped away.
Only when he felt his coach’s hand at his elbow did he realize he tried to follow. He gave him a firm shake of his head; “Sawamura, we need you for the team meeting.”
“But,” Daichi croaked, his voice thick with emotion. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be feeling in this moment. Asahi was one of his oldest friends. Was it appropriate for him to cry? Was he supposed to be stoic? Was he supposed to feel this numb? He felt big, hot tears spill out onto his cheeks, and he couldn’t even be bothered to stop them. “But...Asahi.”
“Azumane will be fine. He’s walking on his own, he’s lucid. Nothing you can do.”
Daichi knew in his heart of hearts he was right. He knew it… didn’t make it hurt any less when he went to the team meeting without Asahi at his side.
~~~
Asahi wasn’t in the infirmary when Daichi got out of the meeting. According to the very nice nurse there, he was transferred to St. Luke’s. They were afraid he’d crushed his shoulder, or worse. Daichi texted Suga to pass on the news and resolved to go home for the night, hoping he would have news in the morning. He showered, had his prefered post-match snack, and stared at the wall of his livingroom, attempting to think about anything other than Asahi’s face when he curled in on himself; Asahi laying in a hospital room, alone and scared out of his mind…
Daichi shook his head rapidly to banish the image, knowing he was being ridiculous. He resolved himself to a long night of the Sapporo in the fridge (no matter how much he regretted it in the morning) and cooking competition shows before his phone buzzed at him. It was a text from Suga.
Two Punch Man 21:37-- Asahi’s in recovery, but they’re keeping him for observation overnight. St. Luke’s, room 617. He’s going to be fine but you absolutely have to see this!! It’s the best thing ever.
Daichi didn’t even respond; he grabbed his shoes, his keys, and his wallet, already punching the number of a cab company into his phone. He could probably take the train, but this way he had more control. If he could beat Tokyo traffic, at least he could be faster.
Maybe.
~~~
Suga was waving to Daichi in the waiting room, holding out a cup of coffee. Daichi felt out of breath, even though his cab driver dropped him off at the entrance. He took the cup from Suga, trying his best not to shake.
“How is he? Where is he?” Daichi exclaimed. “Can I see him?”
“Daichi, please breathe,” Suga chuckled. “He’s in his room in bed; yes you can see him, but he’s…”
“He’s what, Suga?” Daichi growled through clenched teeth.
“Calm down! They just gave him some painkillers and he’s… well, you’ll see.”
“Suga, you’re smiling too much,” Daichi deadpanned, following Suga into the elevator for the sixth floor. He anxiously tapped his foot while he watched the numbers slowly tick up. “Is he… is he really alright?”
“Christ, Daichi, you’d think you were his doting wife or something,” Suga chuckled. “He’s fine, I wouldn’t look so relaxed if he wasn’t.”
“What are you even doing here, anyway?”
“You know Asahi isn’t close with his family,” Suga answered. “I’m one of his emergency contacts. I’m pretty sure they tried you first, but you were probably with the team, still.”
Daichi checked his phone, and sure enough there was a missed call from an unknown number. He swallowed hard, trying to remain positive. Asahi was fine… Suga had just seen him, and he was smiling that mischievous smile of his, so there really wasn’t anything to worry about. Still, he cared deeply about Asahi. He had since they were kids. It was genuinely distressing to see him go down and not get back up. All Daichi wanted was to make sure he was alright…
“We’re here.”
Suga had led him right to 617. It was a three-bed room, but it must have been a slow night because Asahi was all alone by the window. He was swaying slightly, his head bopping to a silent tune in his head. A big, sleepy, goofy smile was on his face, obscured mostly by his messy hair. Suga grinned maniacally, ushering Daichi in before him. What was he up to?
“Asahi?” Daichi approached tentatively, not sure why he was practically creeping into the room. “Asahi, are you OK?”
Asahi’s head snapped around so fast, his neck cracked, but he didn’t seem to mind. His grin widened almost comically; “Daichi! You’re here! Hi, Daichi! Suga, Daichi’s here!”
“What is he on?” Daichi asked, quirking his eyebrows.
“Not sure,” Suga replied with a shrug. “But he’s been like this since he woke up.”
“Wow, Daichi, you’re just…” Asahi continued like he couldn’t hear them. On closer inspection, his eyes were wide, glassy, and blown completely black. His shoulder was wrapped tightly. “You look really fuzzy right now. And it’s making you look, like… so pretty. You’re just gorgeous.”
“I am!” Asahi exclaimed. “The doctors told me I did… something? To my thing?”
“You dislocated your shoulder, fractured one of your ribs, and bruised your scapula,” Suga interjected.
“Yeah, that’s it! But they put this needle in my bag thing, and everything went a little glowy? It was weird and scary but now you’re here, and you’re all glowy too! Plus, you’re pretty!”
“You said that already,” Daichi said with a fond laugh, giving into the urge to brush Asahi’s hair back from his face. “You gave us a bit of a scare. But I’m glad you’re alright.”
“I’m fine!” Asahi exclaimed, leaning into Daichi’s touch with a precious coo. “And I said it twice because it’s true! Or was it three times? Either way, I said it because you’re so pretty! I’ve always thought you were pretty. Like, your eyes are fucking gorgeous and I don’t think anyone ever told you that! It was all about Kageyama’s and Hinata’s, but your eyes are pretty. They’re… I don’t know, warm?”
Daichi flushed, “That’s… um…”
Asahi saved him from further humiliating himself; “I want candy!”
Suga laughed; “Asahi, you hate candy.”
“Oh, my God, you’re right!” Asahi exclaimed, scandalized. “What’s happening? Is this even a hospital!? What have they done to me? Is someone psychically implanting their want for candy into my brain? Daichi, are you a Newtype?”
Daichi started laughing--not even able to keep up with his train of thought; “You’re hopeless, Asahi.”
Asahi took advantage of Daichi’s half-step closer, wrapping his good arm around Daichi’s leg; “Ok, I think that you’ve heard this from every living human who’s ever seen you in shorts, but your thighs are magnificent. They’re warm… holy shit, Daichi, they’re soft! Do you moisturize?”
“I can’t believe you forgot the word for ‘shoulder’ and yet you can say ‘magnificent’ and ‘moisturize,’” Suga laughed. Daichi’s eyes widened when he noticed Suga’s phone was up.
“Suga, are you filming this?”
“For posterity’s sake,” Suga answered. “And sending it straight to the group chat. Sacchan will kill me if I don’t.”
Daichi didn’t even want to touch the fact that Suga had a group chat that included Tendou, or the fact that a high and humiliatingly affectionate Asahi would be relevant to their interests. He really couldn’t, because he was suddenly trying to thwart Asahi from poking him in the cheek.
“What the fuck, Asahi?” Daichi exclaimed.
“Sit with me!”
“Asahi, you have been seriously injured,” Daichi deadpanned. “I heard “dislocated” and “fractured” used in the same sentence.”
“Oh,” Asahi muttered in a small, meek voice. His big, calf-brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears and his lips turned out in a pout. “I… see. That’s fine.”
“Oh, look at that, Daichi, now you went and made him sad,” Suga reprimanded, his voice shaking with uncontrollable laughter. “Why don’t you just sit with him?”
“It’s fine, Suga,” Asahi said pitifully.
“Ugh, I never could say ‘no’ to that face,” Daichi groaned. “Budge over, and watch your shoulder!”
“Yay!” Asahi exclaimed, scootching over as gingerly as possible.
The bed was too small for the both of them, but Daichi didn’t really care. They managed to finagle Asahi into a position where his head was on Daichi’s chest, Daichi’s arm was around his shoulders, and his broken arm was gently cradled against their bodies. Asahi burrowed his face into Daichi’s chest, making the most precious little sounds, and Daichi was finding that he was… quite weak.
Suga grinned at his phone while Asahi continued to nuzzle and purr against Daichi’s neck; “I just got a text from Sacchan. He needs me to call him; you two got this, right?”
Asahi gave a noncommittal wave while Daichi stared daggers after Suga; he knew what he was doing. He’d sensed the atmosphere change, and now he was conveniently dismissing himself. If Daichi weren’t half-buried under Asahi’s heavy body, he’d have given Suga piece of his mind.
But Asahi was soft and quiet and warm, making sweet comments about how warm Daichi was, how comfortable he was. It was clear Asahi was fading fast, though, as he fought sleep mightily.
“Daichi, I don’t feel good,” he whimpered. “And my shoulder hurts.”
“I know, Asahi,” Daichi soothed, running his hands through the long, brown hair. It was unbelievable--thick, baby fine, and downy soft. If Daichi took a deep enough breath through his nose, he could smell Asahi’s slightly floral conditioner, which mixed with the Salonpas and sweat that lingered on his skin. His breathing was starting to even out a bit, and his good hand was toying with the fingers on Daichi’s free hand. “Try to get some sleep, alright?”
“Don’t want to sleep,” Asahi protested weakly. “You’ll be gone.”
“I won’t be gone. I promise, I’ll stay.” Daichi was beginning to realize that Asahi could ask for literally anything with that pout of his, and he would probably agree. Even spending the night in this uncomfortable hospital bed, which was probably against the rules. He didn’t care.
“I’m sorry I got hurt,” Asahi muttered, nosing at Daichi’s neck now. Daichi’s heart jumped into his throat when he felt those warm, plush lips against his pulsepoint and the scratch of a beard at the curve of his shoulder. “I’m sorry I let you down… that I can’t play tomorrow.”
“I’m just glad you’re alright,” Daichi reassured, continuing to card his fingers through Asahi’s hair. The fingers of his free hand were caught in Asahi’s… when did that happen?
“I wish I was good enough for you, Daichi,” Asahi said, his voice muffled by Daichi’s sweatshirt. “I wish I wasn’t such a failure… I wish it was OK that I loved you.”
Daichi froze as the words sank in; “Excuse me?”
“I love you, Daichi,” Asahi muttered again, his voice slipping as his eyes fluttered closed. Impossibly long lashes fanned over prominent cheekbones and full lips struggled to form coherent sentences. “I always have… since we met. I came back for you, Daichi… I wish I could have said something. I wish I wasn’t such a coward.”
Daichi tried to form thoughts, but they weren’t coming. All they ended up being was a jumbled scramble of Asahi loves me, Asahi loves me, he loves me… He opened his mouth to answer, maybe even ask a question or two, but Asahi’s breathing was deep and even and his fingers had gone limp in Daichi’s hands. He was fast asleep, and Daichi didn’t have the heart to wake him. He ran his thumb softly over Asahi’s prominent cheekbone… God, he was so beautiful. How had he not noticed before?
“You goof,” Daichi whispered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against Asahi’s hair. He couldn’t remember how words worked… he could only manage soft, giddy laughter. He wished he hadn’t been so blind… that Asahi hadn’t been so timid. He felt like he’d been hit by a bus.
He was in love with Asahi. He always had been, and judging by the giant butterflies in his stomach, he always would be.
