Chapter Text
As their shift ended, Daichi and his colleague were in the middle of changing out of their uniforms, the quiet clatter of lockers and rustle of fabric filling the room.
Their conversation drifted easily, despite the exhaustion of the day, both rehashing a game they had played with a few other officers some time ago.
Saito was already suggesting they organize another match— only half teasing —when the sharp, insistent ringing of Daichi’s phone cut through the locker room.
At first, Daichi ignored it. He simply lifted a hand in a brief go on gesture, urging Saito to keep talking as he focused on unbuttoning his shirt.
The phone, however, refused to be dismissed. It vibrated restlessly against the metal shelf inside his locker, the persistent buzzing echoing faintly through the thin steel.
By the time Daichi slipped his arms out of his uniform shirt, Saito had already caught the hint.
“Alright, alright,” he said with a small grin, stepping back and grabbing his bag. “I’ll let you take that.”
With a quick wave, he headed out of the locker room, leaving Daichi alone to take the call.
“Am I speaking with Sawamura Daichi?” a woman’s voice inquired, barely audible amidst the bustling background noise.
“Yes, that’s me. May I ask who’s calling?”
“Good evening, Sawamura-san. I’m Nurse Suzuki from Sendai Kousei Hospital. I’m calling about Sugawara Koushi, as you are listed as his emergency contact.”
“How is he?” Daichi asked, his concern outweighing his surprise.
The last time he had seen his former vice-captain was maybe two years after graduation. Like many high school friendships, theirs had gradually faded over time, until they stopped texting altogether.
After eight years, it was a surprise to still be listed as his emergency contact.
As Nurse Suzuki explained that Sugawara was stable and resting after surgery, Daichi swiftly gathered his belongings, driven by the sudden urgency.
By the time the call ended, he was already on his way to Suga.
The hospital surroundings felt unfamiliar, as Daichi’s life mostly revolved around the southern area of the city.
All but abandoning his car on the parking lot, placing it on the first empty space he could find, he was really glad to see the reception right at the entrance.
Leaning against the counter, he found his words stumbling as he provided his name and the patient’s name to the receptionist, the sound of his own voice betraying his anxious state.
Fortunately, the woman wore a kind smile, seemingly accustomed to the frantic nature of visitors. He returned the smile as best he could, though his worry seeped through the polite gesture.
As a small brunette called his name on the side corridor, he recognized the voice of the nurse who telephoned him.
“Sugawara-san should still be asleep on room 203, but I think he would appreciate having you there as he wakes up.”
Daichi nodded, fully intending on providing any comfort he could.
Still, a part of him questioned either the grey haired man would be glad to see him.
The accident left him badly hurt and Daichi felt himself intruding on a vulnerable time after so many years apart.
As they arrived at the door of Suga’s room, the nurse provided final instructions. The necessary medications had already been administered, and another nurse would attend to Sugawara in the morning, as long as his condition remained stable.
Exchanging parting words at the door, Daichi expressed his gratitude once more before stepping into the room.
Slowly pushing the door open, Daichi’s gaze fell upon an armchair placed against the opposite wall, positioned next to the hospital bed.
The room was dim, with the lamps turned off, but the corridor’s soft glow provided just enough light for him to see his friend sleeping.
Suga’s hair had grown a few inches, falling just above his chin, and he appeared more solidly built than before.
Yet, despite the passing years, Suga seemed unchanged at his core. The mole just under his eyes, the same pale skin he remembers from their school days.
The surgery had addressed his internal bleeding, and the two broken ribs would heal alongside the stitches. Still, Suga’s left arm and right leg were in casts.
Purple bruises dotted his skin, with the most prominent ones on his forehead and the left side of his jaw.
Daichi remained by the armchair, occasionally glancing at the vitals pannel, as if seeking reassurance that everything would be okay.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Suga’s voice roused him from an unintentional nap.
“Daichi?” His voice was hoarse, his head half turned to his visitor.
Any confusion Suga might have felt upon awakening in a hospital room was promptly overshadowed by the sight of Daichi, who had been napping in the armchair beside his bed.
Though his vision remained slightly blurred, a side effect of the concussion he would later discover, Suga could still recognize the guy he had spent countless hours with back in high school.
“Suga…” Daichi said, rising from the armchair to stand by Suga’s side, allowing him to see his friend properly without exerting himself.
Seeing the worry in Daichi’s deep brown eyes, Suga momentarily wondered if it was selfish to be glad that the brunette was there.
“Why… how did you know I was here?” Suga inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of embarrassment.
“Apparently, I’m your emergency contact.” He replied, scratching his neck.
Daichi felt honored to have been chosen and yet embarrassed that he never knew it.
“Oh. I never took the time to change it after graduation,” Suga confessed, a blush coloring his cheeks. “I’m sorry for inconveniencing you on-”
“Don’t be,” Daichi interjected, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’m glad to be here— if that’s what you want, of course.”
His confidence wavered slightly at the end of his statement, as he realized his assumption that Suga wanted him to have come.
“No— I mean, yes, I’m glad that you’re here. I just didn’t want to burden you with— you know, whatever injuries I sustained in the crash,” Suga admitted, his gaze shifting downwards.
Realizing Suga was only now taking a look at himself, Daichi gave him a minute before explaining the depth of the injuries.
Though he could see the pain and sadness in Suga’s eyes, he held on to the resolve he could also find in them; it gave Daichi hope that Suga would recover, even if it would take a while.
“Suga, the nurse who talked to me said you needed to get some rest.” He said gently.
“I don’t want to be the reason why you wouldn’t.”
Suga responded with a small nod, knowing that Daichi was right. Yet, a hint of discomfort lingered, as if the other would disappear as soon as he closed his eyes.
As if reading his thoughts, Daichi reached for Suga’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”
His assurance was the last thing Suga heard before drifting off to sleep again.
———————————————
The following morning was tiring.
Suga had remained stable through the night, and the doctor assured them that one more night of observation would be enough. Keeping him longer, they explained, would only increase the risk of a hospital-acquired infection.
Daichi stood quietly while Suga answered the doctor’s questions.
Single. Living alone.
His mother unable to help.
His father living too far away to be of any real assistance.
Each answer felt oddly heavy in the room.
When the doctor finally mentioned discharge procedures, Daichi cleared his throat and spoke before he could second-guess himself.
“I can sign the release papers,” he said. “He can stay at my place while he recovers.”
For a brief moment, Suga simply blinked at him. Then, a quiet wave of relief washed over — not only at the offer, but how it ended the uncomfortable questioning about his life.
They spent a few more minutes talking after the doctor left, slowly filling in the gaps left by the years apart. It felt strangely natural, despite everything.
Eventually, Daichi glanced toward the clock.
“You should get some rest,” he said gently. “Doctor’s orders.”
Suga hesitated, clearly reluctant to cut the conversation short, but he nodded. There would be time. If Daichi truly meant what he had offered, they would have days — maybe weeks — to catch up.
With the nurse’s approval, Daichi stepped out into the corridor.
The hospital’s usual bustle swallowed him immediately: rolling carts, murmured conversations, the distant beeping of machines. But his mind had already drifted elsewhere.
To his apartment.
The offer had come out almost impulsively, yet the more he thought about it, the more certain he felt. Suga’s situation clearly wasn’t ideal, and Daichi found himself wanting — perhaps more than he expected — to give him a safe place to recover.
A place where he wouldn’t be alone. Where they could reconnect.
—————————
When Daichi returned later that evening, Suga brought it up almost immediately, as if the thought had been waiting for him all day.
“Daichi… you really don’t have to do that,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to impose.”
Daichi shook his head.
“It’s not an imposition.”
He leaned back slightly in the chair beside the bed, his expression softening.
“Besides,” he added, a faint smile tugging at his mouth, “we have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”
Suga looked at him for a moment.
The offer felt like a lifeline — unexpected, but deeply welcome. A chance to reconnect with someone he hadn’t realized how much he had missed.
A small smile slowly curved at his lips.
“Thank you, Daichi,” he said. “I’d appreciate that more than you know.”
The process of being discharged from the hospital became a blur for Suga.
Still recovering from surgery and dulled by the lingering effects of medication, he drifted in and out of awareness while Daichi took care of everything. Forms were signed, belongings gathered, quiet exchanges held with nurses and staff — all of it handled with the steady efficiency Suga faintly remembered from their high school days.
In one brief moment of clarity, Suga managed to send a message to Hatsumi, a fellow teacher, updating her on what had happened. Her reply came quickly, filled with reassurance and a promise to handle whatever arrangements were needed at the school.
The message eased a tension he hadn’t fully realized he was holding. Knowing his responsibilities were being taken care of allowed him, at last, to focus on something simpler.
Recovering.
By the time they reached Daichi’s home, the little energy Suga had managed to gather was gone. Fatigue pressed heavily against him, his body slow and uncooperative.
He barely protested when Daichi stepped in to support him, an arm steady around his shoulders. The movement up the stairs felt distant, dreamlike. At some point he realized Daichi had lifted him entirely, carrying him the rest of the way.
Despite the haze in his mind, the gesture filled him with a quiet sense of security.
A moment later, he was being settled onto a spacious double bed, the mattress dipping softly beneath his weight. The pillows were cool and welcoming as Daichi carefully adjusted them behind his back.
Suga’s eyelids fluttered as exhaustion pulled him under again.
Through the half-open door he caught occasional glimpses of Daichi moving about the apartment, the faint sound of his voice carrying from the next room as he spoke on the phone. The words were indistinct, but the low murmur of it was strangely comforting — a steady reminder that someone was nearby.
As the evening slowly faded into night, Suga sank deeper into the softness of the bed.
The ache in his ribs lingered, and the events of the past days still felt unreal, but as he breathed in the faint, unfamiliar scent of the room, something inside him finally began to loosen.
Just a room away, Daichi was there.
The thought settled in quietly—simple, steady.
And for the first time since the accident, Suga let himself truly rest.