→chapter 7.

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THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT. While I can't stop those of you who are under 18 from reading this, I'm asking you to do so at your own discretion. Please don't leave any inappropriate comments if you are a minor. And no references to Yagami Yato either, thank you.

The pain had started fading away after the second week rolled in. Ushijima's mother drove you to the hospital again so that you could get the stitches removed. The doctor was quite impressed with how quickly your wound had healed, but assumed that it was all due to your healthy life-style. After all, as an athlete, you have to follow a strict diet and a workout program.

But in your current situation, any other type of exercise besides going to the toilet has been put on hold until you can move without feeling like you're going to shit yourself from the pain. Ushijima's mother took care to cook you the right type of food, even though you insisted that you would eat anything.

The doctor also applied skin tape over the wound to provide additional support. For this, you aren't needed to come and get it removed, as you can do that yourself at home with baby oil or with a warm wet washcloth. He also had some good news for you: you would be able to return to school next week. To say that you were relieved was an understatement. After spending two and a half weeks alone in the house, with nothing interesting to do and only seeing Ushijima on weekends, you were finally returning to your normal life.

Regarding volleyball though, he advised you to take it easy and especially not make up for missing practice by training extra. Well, even if you tried to do that, Nari or Ushijima would drag your ass out of the gym in less than 3 seconds. You know that you have to listen to him, otherwise you won't be able to play at the nationals.

•••

Ushijima misses you. You are no longer stopping by their gym to scold him about something related to volleyball. Hell, he hasn't even played for a while. It's a change that happened too fast and with you currently at home, he feels incomplete. That's why he's now walking towards the bus station on a Friday evening, even though he's supposed to visit tomorrow. He just can't wait anymore.

He wants to hug you, kiss you, touch you... He wants to feel the warmth of your body in his arms as you both fall asleep. Hearing that you're feeling better put him in such a good mood. Ushijima might look tough and cold on the outside, but he's having a hard time keeping everything under control. You're constantly on his mind every night before he goes to sleep and the only thing that flashes in front of his eyes is the image of you, lying in the ambulance with blood all over your body.

Even though you've assured him many times that it's no longer hurting that bad, he can't help but still worry. Ushijima promised his dad as he was leaving for the US that he would protect you, he promised himself that he would be the best husband for you, but he broke all of those promises.

The guilt settles back in his chest and his eyes start to get teary, but he blinks quickly to push the tears away. The bus is here and there's no point in him still holding on to the past. Things are moving forward and he has to as well: Niiyama's ace and the other two girls are currently serving their sentence according to their implication in the act and you're feeling so much better that you've even started doing some exercises so your muscles won't be that sore when you return. You've moved on and he has to do that as well.

•••

After Ushijima gets off the bus, he texts his mother, letting her know that he's coming over and tells her not to say anything to you. He passes by the local convenience store and steps inside. The whole place is filled with nostalgia. You used to come here together and buy ice-cream while playing outside during summers in middle school. It was the only time when he was back in the neighborhood during the year. You would eat in front of the store in complete silence, unless you would tell him about stuff that happened at your school.

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