Chapter Text
It was early in the morning and Keiji sat on the couch, rereading his research essay for any mistakes. He had forgotten to add in two of his sources and had to rewrite the entire thing in one night— but now it was done, and he would finally get to feel the satisfaction of turning it in.
There was the sound of a door opening, and Keiji looked away from his assignment to find Kenma awake, his hair as wild and terrible as Tetsurou’s usually was. He wore an oversized t-shirt and an old pair of boxers as pajamas, and Keiji was suddenly overcome with the urge to hold him close.
“I thought I heard you out here,” Kenma yawned. He rubbed his eyes and noticed the empty coffee cup sitting near Keiji's laptop, and the air turned all too tense for the time of day. "Please tell me you got some sleep."
Akaashi bit the inside of his cheek and shamefully turned his attention back to his essay. Kenma already had his answer, so it wasn’t like there was any use in trying to convince him otherwise.
Kenma sighed. “You promised me,” he said, and Keiji felt the guilt building up in his throat and threatening to drown him.
“I’m sorry. I’m almost done.”
Kenma walked over to the couch and pulled the computer from Keiji’s lap, closing it and setting it down on the table. “We leave for class in less than three hours,” he pointed out. “You need to sleep. You can do this later.”
“I have to turn it in,” Keiji tried.
“Do it when you wake up.” Kenma was unfaltering in his words, and Keiji would have been lying if he said he wasn’t exhausted. He let Kenma take him by the hand and pull him into his bedroom, where he was pushed down onto the mattress and tucked in securely. “Go to bed,” Kenma said sternly, and then he disappeared back into his own room.
Keiji waited all of ten minutes before getting up to sit back down in the main room. He had to get this done. He had to be a good student and turn this in before the deadline. He had to be better.
Keiji took in a shaky breath. He set his pen down and wiped the tears from his eyes before anyone in the library could notice what was happening. As embarrassing and pathetic as it was, he was crying in public, completely helpless to the progression of his own emotions. He had hardly processed anything his professor had said in class today, and now he was trying to work on an assignment that described concepts he had never even heard of.
Keiji knew that he should have been better than this, but he was quickly realizing how impossible this truly was. He wasn’t cut out for it. He was completely useless and unable to do something as simple as a homework assignment. He was a disappointment to his parents, and he had absolutely no business being in college.
He sniffled wetly and packed his bag before fleeing the library, straying off and walking with his head down until he found himself in an empty stairwell. Keiji dropped his things to the floor. He collapsed in on himself and fell against the wall, burying his face in his hands as he silently sobbed into his palms.
He couldn’t do this. He didn’t belong here. He was a waste of space, and all he did was inconvenience others.
Keiji’s breath hitched, and he looked up as his phone began to ring, the screen lighting up with a photo of Tetsurou. He quickly cleared his throat before answering the incoming call.
“Hey. I thought we were going out for lunch today.”
Keiji mentally kicked himself. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot,” he apologized. He should have been better. He shouldn’t have let himself forget something like this. “I’m coming. I’ll be out in just a minute, and-”
“Are you okay?” Tetsurou asked softly, cutting off his rambling, and Keiji had to bite his lip to keep from breaking into tears once again. It was always a terrible thing when you were trying to keep yourself from crying and someone genuinely asked if you were alright. It made Keiji want to fall apart and fall into Tetsurou’s arms. “You sound like you’ve been crying. It’s not a big deal if you were, I just want to make sure you’re alright.”
Keiji laughed weakly and pathetically. “I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams,” he admitted, the words weighing heavily on his tongue. “I can’t focus in my classes. My head hurts so badly that I can’t think anymore. I don’t know what I’m even doing here.”
Tetsurou paused for a moment and there was the sound of shuffling on his end of the call. “Where are you?” He asked, and Keiji told him— the staircase on the third floor of the building— and from then, it was only a few minutes before Tetsurou pushed through the door, breathing heavily and panting as if he had been running. He pulled Keiji in for a hug, and Keiji clung to him like his whole world depended on it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Tetsurou pulled away slightly, only to brush Keiji’s tears away with the pad of his thumb. “You said your head hurt. Any chance you’ve been skipping meals again?”
Keiji was ashamed of himself, but he told the truth nonetheless. “I have.”
“That’s alright. We’re getting lunch together now, okay?”
Keiji nodded, and a strange sense of relief washed through him as Tetsurou took his hand and walked down to the cafeteria with him. Even as difficult as Keiji was, he was still capable of being loved, and that felt like something he should remember.
Keiji was at the mall with his partners. It was the weekend, and they all had things they needed to buy, so they decided to make a date of it. They had already found Koutarou a new pair of jeans, since he had broken a pen and gotten ink all over his only pair, and now they were lingering in the gaming store as Kenma searched for a new RPG he had been looking forward to.
Koutarou held Keiji’s hand, swinging it back and forth as they looked through the displays to pass the time. “Babe, look at these!” He gasped, and then Keiji was suddenly tugged to the left, tripping over his feet as he struggled to regain his balance. Koutarou caught him with a hand at his waist, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. Are you okay?”
Keiji’s head hurt. His thoughts were running slowly, and he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to stand up for much longer. “I’m fine,” he said. “What did you want to show me?”
Koutarou grabbed something from the shelf. He held it out in front of Keiji, who blinked as his eyes refocused, slowly recognizing it as one of the animal plushies the store sold. It was a large and fat barn owl, because of course it was— because of course this would be something to catch Koutarou’s eye.
“I’m buying it for you,” he announced, looking proud of himself.
“You should buy things for yourself. Spend your money on things you like.”
“I like you,” Koutarou responded simply, not even hesitating for a moment.
Keiji could feel the tips of his ears flushing red with embarrassment. “I suppose that is true.” Koutarou had always been very straightforward with his affection, but even now, it still sometimes caught him off guard.
“It’s very true,” Koutarou agreed, and then he leaned in for a brief kiss. Keiji gladly gave him what he wanted. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
Keiji nodded. Koutarou disappeared further into the store, and for the first time in a while, Keiji was alone. Kenma and Tetsurou were somewhere nearby, and he almost made the decision to seek them out, but it was too late— he could already feel the poisonous thoughts creeping back into his mind.
Keiji’s hands were cold like he had been outside for too long, and he couldn’t feel the tips of his toes. He wanted to go to sleep in the same way people with hypothermia did, in which they grew tired and never woke up. Maybe if he was cold enough, the same thing would happen to him.
He vaguely heard someone calling his name, but he couldn’t remember to respond. He heard it a second and a third time, and then there was the distinct feeling of a warm hand slipping into his grasp, and he was slowly brought back to reality.
It was Kenma. He was looking up at Keiji and analyzing him with perceptive eyes, which was understandable, since apparently he had been so zoned out that he barely heard his own name.
“We can go if you need to sit down,” Kenma said, as if he could tell how badly Keiji’s head was spinning.
“I’m fine,” Keiji responded, and he didn’t have the energy to make it sound believable. He had been enough of a liability lately, they didn’t need to cut their shopping trip short just because he was dizzy.
Kenma looked like he didn’t believe him. Keiji honestly couldn’t blame him for it— he didn’t believe half of the things that came out of his own mouth recently. “If you say so,” Kenma started, absolutely not believing Keiji, but not wanting to push him on the subject too much. “Do you know what you want for dinner yet?”
Kenma was changing the subject, all while asking the quiet little question of whether or not Keiji’s been neglecting his health again. Keiji knew this game— he knew how intelligent and calculating Kenma could be, but unfortunately, he wasn’t feeling well enough to be a formidable opponent against him today.
“I’m going to find Koutarou,” Keiji muttered, and then he was gone before Kenma could respond, wading further into the store with the sole intention of avoiding his boyfriends, rather than finding any of them.
Keiji felt terrible. He wanted to be back in his dorm, and curl up in bed and sleep for a week. His heartbeat was thudding behind his eyes, and his ears were stuffed to the brim with wet cotton. He swallowed heavily with panic as he realized that the store was spinning around him.
He staggered forward on weak legs and reached out to a nearby display case in an attempt to regain his balance. There was the sound of glass shattering, and with horror, Keiji realized that he had knocked a glass figurine onto the floor, destroying it. He felt like throwing up, but he knew there was nothing in his stomach to get rid of. He apologized for the mistake, but he wasn’t sure who he was speaking to, or if anyone was even close enough to have heard him.
The world looked greyscale and black, and Keiji only blinked back to reality once he was out of the store, sitting on a bench with Kenma— who was watching him with wide eyes and holding onto his hand with an iron grip, so tight that it was almost like he was terrified that he would be blown away by a stiff wind.
“Your hands are cold,” Kenma pointed out. “You’re shivering.”
“Yeah.”
Kenma looked as if he could start crying at any moment. Keiji hated it. He was breaking his heart again. “Why do you- why can’t you just- ugh.” Kenma looked away, and Keiji was pretty sure that he was blinking back tears. He tried to pull his hand away, because he was the one terrible enough to make his partner cry, but Kenma didn’t let him budge. “Don’t you dare go anywhere.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are. But that doesn’t make things easier.”
Koutarou and Tetsurou walked out from the store, Koutarou looking like an adorable idiot with the owl toy tucked under his arm— but the look on their faces was nothing but painful.
Tetsurou ran a hand through his hair in the way he did when he was stressed. “Um, okay… so, the lady up front was really sweet and didn’t let me pay for the broken figurine. She hopes you feel better soon,” he said, and then his expression turned sad and pointed. “You’ve been out of it all day, Keiji. When was the last time you ate?”
Keiji didn’t want to respond. They weren’t going to like his answer.
Koutarou sat down on his other side and wrapped an arm around him. “C’mon, baby, tell us? We just wanna help.”
“Kenma made breakfast this morning,” Keiji offered up.
Kenma narrowed his eyes at him. “You didn’t eat with me though. You said you already ate.”
“Did you?” Koutarou asked.
“Of course I did.”
Tetsurou crossed his arms over his chest. “Keiji,” he tried. “How long has it been?”
Keiji stared down at the floor and felt ashamed of himself as he admitted it. “Three days,” he said, and that was the truth, give or take a few hours. Kenma’s grip on his hand tightened, and Koutarou was quickly looking as if he might begin to cry as well. Tetsurou looked tense, his earlier demeanor shattered, and what was left of Keiji’s heart shattered with it. He was terrible. He was absolutely despicable, and unredeemable.
“Fuck,” Tetsurou cursed, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Fuck, I thought you looked pale recently.”
Kenma stood up and walked away, and Keiji was pretty sure that wasn’t a good sign of anything— until he returned with a coffee cup, handing it off to Keiji. “You need to put something in your body, or else you’re going to get dizzy again.”
Keiji stared at the cup. It was warm in his hands. He had already hurt his partners enough today, he didn’t need to rub salt into the wound by starting a fight over this. He thanked Kenma and sipped at the drink, pleasantly discovering that it was hot chocolate. Keiji liked hot chocolate.
It made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, and he almost forgot how much sugar was in the chocolate and milk, and all the extras they likely added to it— and then he remembered, and carefully switched back to using the cup to warm his hands. He didn’t deserve something like this.
Koutarou kissed him on the temple and ran a comforting hand along his side. “We’ll get you something to eat when we get back to campus, okay?”
“I’m not hungry.” The words were familiar and false on his tongue.
“Keiji, please,” Tetsurou tried. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
Keiji swallowed heavily, fighting back the urge to cry. “I’m not trying to do anything. It just happens.”
“We can talk about it later. Let’s just go,” Kenma said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and closing himself off. He was tired of the situation, and Keiji really couldn’t blame him, because he was too.
Keiji stared at the ground and fidgeted with his fingers. “You should break up with me.”
“No,” Kenma said without hesitation.
“You would still have two boyfriends each.”
“You know it doesn’t work like that. You aren’t disposable.”
Keiji rubbed at his eyes, and Koutarou held him closer. “But… I can’t take care of myself and you’re all forced to accommodate for my weaknesses. It’s not fair that I’m bringing you down with me.”
“You’re not,” Koutarou softly reassured, but there was distinct conviction behind his tone. It made Keiji feel like he was speaking the truth. “We’re not leaving you behind.”
Keiji shook his head. “But you should,” he tried to explain. “You might as well get used to my absence. I won’t always be here, and-”
Tetsurou cut him off, looking at him strangely. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just so tired of everything,” Keiji admitted, exhausted. “Tired of this. If I wasn’t here anymore, then-”
“No.”
Keiji bit his lip as the tears began to flow down his cheeks. Tetsurou kneeled down in front of him, not caring about how strange he looked, down on his knees in the middle of the mall. He set aside the hot chocolate and took Keiji’s hands in his own.
“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. You’re not going anywhere.” He reached up to thumb away a streak of tears, and Keiji sniffled, leaning into the warmth of his palm. “That’s why we’re here. We’re helping you stay on track so you can get better.”
“I’m deadweight,” Keiji weakly insisted.
“You aren’t.” Tetsurou smiled at him. “Kenma would tell you if you were,” he joked, and Keiji managed a soft smile in response. He loved his partners. He loved them more than anything— so much that he wanted nothing more than to take care of himself for them, but first and foremost, he had to remember how to treat himself kindly.
Keiji could do that. As long as they were with him, standing by his side and cheering him on and always willing to catch him when he fell, he could do that.