Somebody Should've Had Your Back (I Tried) Oneshot

Maki

Ever since the terrifying confrontation between Toma and his father, the man hadn't paid a single visit. Maki didn't know if he should be relieved or afraid of the fact. Everyday when he was home alone with his mother gone at work, he'd stand rigid by the stove as he cooked, waiting for the doorbell to ring and his father peering through the peephole, waiting for him with a grim smile. The undying terror that engulfed him everyday was becoming too much to bear- the anxiety burning him alive.

So, he began to crave any form of company.

As he became closer than ever with his teammates, the more often they'd randomly show up at his door uninvited. It shook Maki a little bit, as he struggled to get accustomed to the- oddly enough- welcomed intrusion. He was used to Mitsue, Toma and Yu dropping by for an occasional meal, since they were all his childhood friends. It was almost habit.

He had been warming up more to the sudden visits, enjoying them much more than he should be. They filled the house with warmth and laughter, scaring away any darkness that Maki had tried to run from his entire life. He knew in the three months he'd known the team for that he shouldn't be so eager to let them waltz into his home like that. He knew they weren't bad people- far from it, really, but anything could happen. The moment he let his guard down, all he would receive would be pain.

Despite that, he looked forward to their visits. Whether it be Toma stopping by to hang out, Taiyo shyly asking if they could study together, Itsuki playfully batting him on the shoulder the second he opened the door, or Rintaro showing him his practice ideas, his day always immediately brightened and every time he'd practically flung open his door, ushering them inside.

He'd gotten so used to it at some point that he'd find himself running to the door that he used to avoid opening at all costs when the doorbell rang. Barely contained excitement ran through his veins, hopeful of a distraction from his problems and something he could find joy in-

He realized a second too late that he hadn't checked the peephole before throwing the door open.

He hadn't checked if his-

"Yo, Maki. You seem so excited to see your dad, eh?" Kenji chuckled, the temperature dropping instantly as he shoved his way through the door, knocking Maki aside as the door shut itself. With a stifled cry he stumbled, hitting his head against the wall before catching himself and following his father to the kitchen, clenching his fists as he shook in fear. How could he have gotten so caught up in his own little fantasy to completely forget about his father? The man who had a spear pointed at his throat had slipped his mind.

Kenji looked around for a moment before glaring at Maki, his face contorted into an all too familiar rage. He pulled his fist from his pocket, smirking at the way Maki flinched and covered his face with his arms.

"Maki," He drawled, eyes dark. "I came here for a reason. Where's the money?" Maki shook, not lowering his arms as he stared at his feet. His mother hadn't left any money out because they simply had none to spare. He'd used it on groceries, and until his mother got her next paycheck, they didn't even have a penny to give to this wretched man.

After a moment of silence, Kenji drew back his leg, brutally kicking his son in the ribs. Maki cried out at the sudden assault, flying to the ground and hitting the ground with a thud. He didn't understand why his father loved his suffering so much. Why couldn't he just leave them alone?

"I asked you a question, brat!" Kenji snapped, towering over Maki's huddled form. In a moment of defiance Maki lifted his head shakily and met his father's flaming gaze.

"You- You can't keep stealing from us, you bastard!" He shouted. Kenji's face twisted in disgust as he reeled back for another kick. He drove his foot in the same place he'd kicked before, snickering as Maki choked on his spit. He reached down, grabbing his son's hair in a fist and pulling painfully so their faces were only inches apart.

"Stealing?" He laughed. "You belong to me. Your mother belongs to me. Your money belongs to me, got it?" With each sentence, he felt himself get lifted up and slammed against the floor with a sickening crack. His head felt as it was about to explode and he gave up on trying to bite back his screams as one particular hit caused his tears to finally spill over his cheeks. He felt something wet underneath his head, matting his hair as he sobbed, unable to free himself from Kenji's strong grip. He stared past his father's head, locking his gaze on the roof and trying to distract himself from the agonizing pain. Tomorrow would be okay. He'd be back on the court, playing soft tennis- the sport he loved. He would get to see all his friends and he-

A gruff hand making contact with his face made him snap his attention back to Kenji. "Got it?!" The man repeated, spitting in his face. Maki nodded frantically, trying to stop his increasing panic. After what felt like hours, he was released and Maki fell to the ground unceremoniously with an odd squelch, sobbing as he curled into a pitiful ball. He ignored the crimson liquid smearing into his cheek, instead drowning himself in relief that he could finally have a small break. He tried to tune out his father's laughter from above him.

"So, Maki, let me ask you one more time," Kenji growled, squatting down so he was only hovering over Maki's fallen body. "Where'd you hide it this time, huh?"

Maki shook his head, unable to produce words as his body racked with sobs. Everything hurt, damnit.

"W-We... we don't have any..." He wheezed out with an incredible amount of effort, his breath gone. Kenji, seemingly unsatisfied with the answer, latched his hands around Maki's neck, and squeezed. Maki immediately began to trash, hands flying up and attempting to pry Kenji's large fingers off of his throat. Desperate, choked cries were pulled from his throat as he flailed, trying to draw in a breath and coming to the horrifying realization that he couldn't. He'd die here, on his kitchen floor, with his disgusting father's eyes staring at him as he was strangled to death. Black spots danced in his vision and an angry ringing blared in his ears, white noise replacing his own choking. He let his fingers fall from the unrelenting hands around his neck, accepting that Kenji had finally gotten sick of him and decided to dispose of him. A small voice in the back of his head told him to be grateful that his suffering was finally going to be put to an end, that Kenji was going to have mercy on him after all these years. The man wouldn't be able to get away with this either- maybe his mother would finally get to live a normal life, not having to worry about her ex causing her life to be literal hell. Maybe-

Suddenly, the squeezing was gone and Maki had never been so thankful for oxygen in his life before. He sucked in a deep breath, finding the action incredibly painful as he choked for a moment, coughing as he rolled over, heaving. He curled into a ball, squeezing his eyes shut. He could slightly process the sudden noise that had filled the house, though he was more focused on trying to breathe than anything at the moment. He felt a hand rest against his back and he flinched, preparing to be hit again-

"Maki, Maki it's Taiyo- just breathe, okay?" Taiyo. How was Taiyo here? That was impossible- his father was just there, how-?

"-hey, Maki, breathe! You're alright- it's just me, okay?" Taiyo said, rubbing soothing circles into his back.

For the first time in a while, Maki breathed.

(He pretended not to hear the loud commotion at the door, and the voices of eight boys chasing his father out with a plethora of curses and well-meant threats.)