A Co-Captain's Doubts

Loud Thoughts

Suga grew quiet as his memories began to swarm inside of his already aching head, the most vivid being the voice of Kita Wasaki's number four. It was true his lip and lift eye had him wincing every time he blinked or talked, but his dignity had suffered a much larger blow. It wasn't as if anything the jerk said hadn't already been a thought in his mind, but hearing it said aloud had changed something. What had once been unwanted insecurities, now seemed to have transformed into fact. He felt exposed and humiliated.

"Suga? Are you still awake in there?"

Daichi's anxious voice broke through Sugawara's building despondency, and he realized the Captain had been talking to him as he drifted into his sinking thoughts.

"Oh- Uh, yeah. Sorry, I'm awake."

Suga could hear a relieved exhale from his friend on the other side of the door, and felt guilt add to the pile of his dismal mood. He could only imagine how stressed the other third year must be with one of his players going missing right before the start of a match. They wouldn't have the time to properly warm up because they were here fetching him from a closet. Wasting their time on a guy who wasn't even likely to play.

Sadness wrapped fingers around Suga's heart. He had thought he could justify his staying on the team so long as he was making himself useful, by guiding the younger guys, and making the most out of the precious minutes he actually had his feet on the court. Until now, he'd been content to ignore the nagging feeling in his gut, telling him he was skirting what he didn't want to accept. The truth was... Karasuno didn't need him anymore. They had Kageyama, and how could he compete with a natural born protégé? He longed to be mad at the younger boy, but being who he was, Suga couldn't stop wanting what was best for the team... He just wished it was him.

"Daichi, where's Sugawara, is he alright?!"

Suga could hear a new voice, one that sounded frantic and stressed as it got closer, the padding of multiple footsteps accompanying it.

On the other side of the door, a new group of people had arrived.

"Takeda, Coach, he's in here. I think he's alright, but all I know is he's conscious." Daichi said, his face tense with worry and visible anger.

Pushing his way through the crowd of volleyball players who'd reassembled when they'd heard their teammate had been found, an elderly Janitor with a bushy white mustache slowly hobbled up to the locked oak door.

"Step aside, step aside. Crowding my closet won't help me get it unlocked any faster, excuse me young man."

Reluctant to move away from the door, Daichi bowed his head respectively and went to stand beside Asahi who had a strange look on his face the Captain couldn't quite place. Something comparable to anger and... Disgust? Lacking words of reassurance at the moment, Daichi opted to watch as the janitor fished out his keys, but gave the taller third year a couple solid pats on the back. He might not be able to identify the look on his face, but he was pretty sure he understood what his ace was feeling. After all, he felt the same way.

Waiting as the old man seemed to take his time flipping through wrong keys, Daichi held his breath without realizing it until one was finally chosen. It felt like slow motion as the locking mechanism creaked before clicking and then the barrier between him and his friend fell away. Giving a soft grunt, the Janitor reached inside and pulled a dangling string that hung from the ceiling and Daichi quickly maneuvered around the elderly man. Looking inside, the small room was lit up by a single bulb, revealing a mess of toppled cleaning supplies, and a squinting volleyball player sitting slumped on the floor as he cradled the left side of his face.