#god the karasuno first years might just cure my depression

[touchlikethesun]

i think the karasuno first years are so funny (for so many reasons i just adore them but rn in particular) because you have two of the most straightforward people that are the definition of sharing the same braincell - cept when it comes to volleyball, they are so no thoughts head empty (said in a nonliteral affectionate way) - and then you have the other three who are all (albeit in different ways) just completely the opposite like the other three are all chronic overthinkers like ‘babes pls stop you’re giving yourself a mental illness’ kind of overthinkers. there’s no middle ground, they are all so extreme and extra (in their own way). and then like, they just hang out. the five of them. some of them pretend to hate each other. one of the overthinkers is a lesbian. incredible group dynamic.

[eunsoyi]

congrats on 100! #3 + hinata if you don’t mind

prompt list here and requests are still very much open!

#3 from prompt list with hinata shoyo (trigger warning: depression, mental illness, mentions of suicide)

think

hinata shoyo doesn’t think.

no, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t use his brain. he’s bad at studying, sure, but that’s another conversation for another time. shoyo doesn’t think about the things around him. some might call him a simpleton or an airhead, but he knows he wasn’t like that. he’d rather call it a defense mechanism.

he doesn’t think about losing, especially in his school life wherein he devoted all his hours in volleyball training. he doesn’t think about his family getting mad at him for not taking care of his health because he knows pushing himself to the limit is going to benefit him one day. he doesn’t think about his friends leaving his side because he is well-aware that they all have their own paths to walk on.

he tried not to think. he tried to alleviate the pain from thinking too much. he could try and try until his life ended, but his gears simply started to turn whenever it came to you.

no, he wasn’t in love with you. that mere thought of being in a romantic relationship with you felt uncomfortable. after all, you were a sister figure to him, just like natsu. but he hated seeing you like this. so broken, so fragile, it was as if you were on the brink of your limit.

you and shoyo had been best friends since god knows when. he just knew that from the moment the two of you were born, you’d be inseparable. you were like two peas in a pod: bright, ambitious, optimistic.

where did it all go wrong?

it had been seven weeks since you last showed up to school. seven weeks since he last saw your face. seven weeks since he last heard your voice. he attempted to know what was happening with you, but your mother insisted that he should not bother.

“it’s too much.” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “please, just go home and pray for her.” shoyo didn’t listen. he visited your house everyday after practice, desperately trying to get a glimpse of you. he’d bring over your favorite snacks, asking your mother to at least bring it to you for you to enjoy. then, finally, your mother gave in.

she led him upstairs to your room, and he felt a strange aura as he walked towards it. everything felt dark, grim, and heavy. her mother took a deep breath before opening your bedroom door. “i just want to say, shoyo, i’m very very sorry.”

“wha-what do you mean?” he stuttered. your mother didn’t answer and proceeded to finally open the door. what he saw next made his heart drop to the depths of the earth.

your room was dark, lights weren’t opened, the blinds were closed. clothes were sprawled everywhere on the floor. the food he was bringing you everyday was still inside the classic opaque plastic bags, untouched and rotting. you were curled up in a fetus position, blanket over your whole body.

“what.. what’s going on?” he managed to speak out.

“y/n, sweetie, shoyo’s here.” your mother didn’t answer shoyo and instead called your attention. you shuffled slightly, but gave no response. your mother sighed and closed the door.

“let’s talk downstairs.”

she led him to the dining area, gave him a cup of tea and sat down adjacent from him. “you see, y/n’s sick.”

“sick how?” he asked.

“she..” your mother sighed once more, pausing to think. “she feels there’s no hope for her in this world.” her voice cracked, tears started to fall down on her face.

“what do you mean?” shoyo asked, getting impatient.

“it started last year. it’s like she’s a different person. she doesn’t eat, she doesn’t sleep, her grades were dropping.” she sniffed, sipping on her tea. “i asked her what’s wrong, she didn’t answer. instead, y/n told me that she doesn’t want to live anymore.”

your mother then continued to explain that she brought you to a psychiatrist in order to at least cure you from whatever you were feeling. she then told shoyo you were diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety disorder, and that information alone caused you to spiral. you didn’t want to believe you were sick.

shoyo went back home with a lot more on his mind than he wanted. he understood why your mother acted the way she did. shoyo wasn’t educated enough about the concepts of mental health and mental illnesses, but he knew things. at least, that’s what he believed in. he remembered the day your father died. tons of people from your neighborhood had visited to pay their respects and to say their condolences to the family he left behind. he saw you sitting at the front row, gazing at the casket that was lying there in front of you. he angled his neck to see if you were crying, and to his shock, you weren’t.

“i don’t know who to blame.” you said, sipping on your orange juice. shoyo had offered to walk with you outside of the memorial for fresh air to which you happily obliged.

“you don’t need someone to blame.” he responded, cracking open a can of soda.

“perhaps.” you smiled sadly. “but it makes it easier if i had one.”

shoyo stayed silent while you continued talking.

“i was the first one to see dad’s body.” your voice quaked slightly. “we just got home from school, i walked into his room, and he’s just there. not moving.”

you stayed silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “you know what, i do have something to blame.”

shoyo snapped his head towards your direction. “who?”

“i blame dad’s brain. if he stopped thinking, he’d be alive.”

shoyo tried to muster out a reply, but ultimately failed. you giggled and brushed the topic off and offered to play some volleyball with him back home and he said yes.

you didn’t cry during the funeral. you didn’t cry after the funeral. life went on normally.

shoyo had forced you to enroll in karasuno high school with him, much to your dismay. you really wanted to get out of miyagi and go somewhere far away, but he wouldn’t let you. not in a million years, no. “you promised we’d be together, forever.” he whined, causing you to say yes reluctantly.

shoyo adjusted just fine in his new high school. he gained friends at a terrifying speed. he became popular and was known as the new little giant by his friends and his teammates. you, on the other hand, stayed alone. when shoyo noticed this, he tried to talk to you about it.

“go out and meet new people, y/n! karasuno students are very nice!” he exclaimed.

“yeah, no.” you responded nonchalantly.

despite his busy schedule (mostly volleyball, eating, and socializing), he always swung by your house to hang out. you did attempt to throw him out multiple times because he was disrupting your study session, but he stayed nonetheless, enjoying your annoyed reaction. everything seemed normal, seemed happy, seemed bright. shoyo continued to flow naturally, accepting everything that came his way. from game losses to injuries to failed exams, he lived life.

he liked living life because you were mostly there to help him out, even if it was against your will. you helped him study for his make-up exams, you lent an ear whenever he was rambling on and on about how annoying and stuck-up kageyama and tsukishima were, you went to his games, you were there when they lost to aoba johsai. he liked living life with you by his side.

shoyo whipped out his phone when he got home and called your number. it rang a few times before it stopped, meaning you had cancelled his call. he wasn’t going to give up then and there, since he has attempted to call you for seven weeks now. during his fifth try, you finally answered.

“what?” you said in a hoarse voice. shoyo felt a lump form in his throat.

“i.. i..” he struggled to find the words to say.

“i heard you come in earlier.” you said, the hoarse voice gradually going away.

“i did. sorry.”

you let out a soft yet sad chuckle. “it’s fine.” the two of you stayed silent for a couple of seconds. shoyo felt his eyes sting. he hated seeing, hearing, feeling you like this. he felt guilty. where was he when you were going through such a hard time? was he even worthy to be called your friend? how come he didn’t notice? why didn’t he try and notice? millions of questions rushed through shoyo’s head.

“shoyo, stop thinking.” you suddenly said. shoyo’s train of thoughts halted, tears falling down his face. “w-what?”

“i can hear you thinking right now.” you replied in a quiet voice. “don’t do it.”

“yeah.” he laughed, which sounded more like a sob. “yeah, i’m sorry. i’m really, really sorry.”

you sighed. “it’s not your fault.”

“but i should’ve known! i should’ve tried and become a good friend and ask you what’s wrong. i should’ve tried harder-“

“everything’s fine, shoyo.” you hushed him. “sometimes, it hits you like a truck. i was shocked as well, you know.”

shoyo choked back a sob.

“i’ll be fine. i’m going to try.” you said. he felt your smile against the phone as he tried to hold back his cries once more. “thank you for being by my side, shoyo.”