Miles Apart
#Ushihina Omegaverse
The apartment was dimly lit, just the soft glow from the desk lamp cutting through the quiet.
Stacks of papers and open notebooks lay scattered around â half-written reports, volleyball strategies, and textbooks filled with notes in neat, disciplined handwriting.
Ushijima Wakatoshi sat there, elbows on the desk, head bowed slightly. His body ached from training, his shoulders heavy from the dayâs grind. It wasnât that he wasnât used to hard work â heâd always been disciplined, methodical, prepared to push through anything.
But tonight felt⌠different.
It wasnât just fatigue that lingered in his bones â it was emptiness. The kind that settles in quietly when you realize youâve spent days without hearing the voice that usually lifts you up. The kind that makes a room, no matter how tidy or spacious, feel unbearably quiet.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes landing on his phone. The wallpaper â a picture of ShĹyĹ taken during one of their last meet-ups â greeted him with that bright smile, cheeks flushed with sunlight and laughter.
That smile. That little ball of energy that always pulled him out of his own silence.
âShĹyĹâŚâ he murmured under his breath.
It surprised him, how raw the sound of his own voice felt when he said the name out loud.
He thought about how ShĹyĹ would always tug on his sleeve when they walked together. How his laugh would echo like a melody every time they teased each other about food. How soft his voice would turn when he said âToshiâ, only for him.
Ushijima rubbed his face with both hands, sighing deeply.
âDamn long distance,â he muttered, voice low and rough.
He wasnât one to complain â not about training, not about exhaustion or pressure. But this? This constant ache, this gnawing need to see him, touch him, hold him â it was harder to endure than any match or late-night study session. His chest tightened with the weight of it.
If only I could see him now, he thought. If only I could hold him for just a moment.
He picked up his phone, thumb hovering over their chat. The last message was from ShĹyĹ earlier that evening:
[ShĹyĹ]: Donât forget to eat, okay? I know youâre tired but I want you to take care of your health, Toshi đŞđťâ¤ď¸
Wakatoshiâs lips curved faintly. Even through a screen, that boy never failed to reach him.
Still, he typed out a message:
[Wakatoshi]: I miss you.
It was simple. Honest. Not the kind of thing he said often, but it was the only truth he could manage tonight.
A few seconds later, his phone buzzed.
[ShĹyĹ]: Eh?! You okay?? You rarely say that out of nowhere đł
[Wakatoshi]: I just⌠miss you. Thatâs all.
[ShĹyĹ]: I miss you too, Toshi. A lot. Weâll see each other soon, okay? Promise đ
He stared at the message for a long moment, his chest finally easing. The loneliness didnât vanish â but it softened, replaced by warmth.
Ushijima leaned back, still holding his phone, imagining ShĹyĹâs voice in his head, bright and soft like a ray of sunlight that cut through the gloom.
âYouâre my peace, Sho,â he whispered to the quiet apartment.
âââââ
The night air in Miyagi was cool, and ShĹyĹ lay sprawled on his bed, phone resting on his chest.
Heâd been scrolling through photos â the one where Ushijima looked serious mid-serve, another where they stood side by side after a match, smiling awkwardly into the camera.
And when he received the texts from his alpha, something in his chest tightened. Call it intuition, or maybe the pull of their bond, but suddenly ShĹyĹ just knew â his alpha wasnât doing well.
He hesitated only a moment before tapping the call button. The phone rang twice before a deep, tired voice came through.
Ushijima: âShĹyĹ?â
ShĹyĹ: âToshi⌠were you sleeping?â
Ushijima: âNo. I was⌠finishing a report.â
Even through the small speaker, ShĹyĹ could hear the fatigue â that rough edge in Wakatoshiâs voice, the way he exhaled slowly like heâd been holding his breath all day.
ShĹyĹ: âYou sound exhausted. Did you even eat dinner?â
Ushijima: âA cup noodle. And coffee.â
ShĹyĹâs tone softened, yet a mix of affection and gentle scolding. He sat up, holding the phone closer.
ShĹyĹ: âToshi.. You need real food, not just cup noodle. And donât forget your vitamins, okay? Youâll make me worry.â
There was a small pause on the other end, followed by a faint chuckle.
Ushijima: âYouâre already worrying.â
ShĹyĹ: âOf course I am. Youâre pushing yourself too hard again.â
Ushijima leaned back in his chair, letting his head rest against the wall. Just hearing that voice â warm, animated, full of life â started to ease the heavy weight pressing on his chest.
Ushijima: âI miss hearing you nag me.â
ShĹyĹ: [laughs softly] âIâm not nagging, Iâm reminding you because I care, silly.â
Ushijima: âI know. And I⌠appreciate it.â
He could picture it â ShĹyĹâs face scrunching up when he got flustered, his soft hair falling over his eyes. He could almost feel the warmth of his small hand tugging at his sleeve.
Ushijima: âYou make it easier to breathe, you know.â
ShĹyĹ: âToshiâŚâ
The line went quiet for a heartbeat â the kind of silence that feels full, not empty.
ShĹyĹ: âHey, youâll come home next break, right?â
Ushijima: âYes. Iâll take the earliest train.â
ShĹyĹ: âGood. Iâll make your favorite hayashi rice and miso soup, so you better eat properly until then.â
Ushijima: âI will. Only because you told me to.â
ShĹyĹ: âYou better!â
Their laughter blended softly through the static. ShĹyĹ kept talking â about school, Karasunoâs practice, how Kageyama got mad at him again, how Yachi brought cute snacks from the store. A small smile crept onto Ushijimaâs lips â rare, but real. He didnât interrupt as ShĹyĹ continued to talk, his voice a gentle rhythm in the quiet room.
Wakatoshi listened. Every word sank into him, slowly melting the stiffness from his body, the ache from his bones.
ââand then Daichi-san said we might get to go to Sendai forââ
âMm.â
âToshi, are you listening?â
âAlways,â he murmured softly.
His eyelids were growing heavier now. The warmth in ShĹyĹâs voice lulled him deeper into calm, like the steady hum of waves.
âHey, you better sleep soon, okay?â ShĹyĹ said, noticing the long pauses.
âI will⌠after you finish talking,â Ushijima replied, voice barely above a whisper.
âYou sure?â
âYour voice helps.â
There was a soft laugh from the other end, shy and touched. âYouâre impossible, Toshi.â
But ShĹyĹ kept talking anyway â quieter now, softer, like he didnât want to break the calm.
He talked about the weather, about missing him, about how the pillow still smelled like Toshi from the last visit.
And then â silence. A deep, even breath from the other end.
ShĹyĹ paused mid-sentence, smiling fondly when he realized.
âYou fell asleep, huh?â he whispered, voice warm with affection.
From the other end of the line, he could hear faint, steady breathing â Ushijimaâs deep, rhythmic snores.
He chuckled quietly, pressing the phone closer to his ear.
âGood night, Toshi,â he whispered softly. âSleep well. I love you.â
He waited a moment longer before hanging up, smiling at the thought of his alpha finally resting â probably still clutching the phone close, as if he could hold onto ShĹyĹâs voice a little longer.
And miles away in Tokyo, Ushijima dreamed peacefully for the first time in weeks â because the sound of ShĹyĹâs voice had carried him home.
