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kirisaki-daichi-scenarios · 3 years

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the numb hand; a haizaki shougo fic

He’s in middle school when he first learns about how, if you sit on your hand for long enough, it goes numb, and you can pretend someone else is jerking you off.

It’s a great discovery. Sure, he hates the itchy, tingling sensation when the feeling starts wearing off, and it’s a pain sitting on his hand for long enough, but who cares about all the minor issues when you’ve got a hot chick (alright, not really) giving you a hand job?

***

It’s sometime in high school when his left hand, still numb, skims his right. The sudden contact, even between his own two hands, sends a shock down his forearm. He doesn’t move his hands apart. Though he also doesn’t imagine that the hand belongs to anyone else - no way in hell is he, practically a grown man, ever going to hold hands with anyone ever.

But, when he’s falling asleep, he intertwines the fingers of his hands. It makes him feel a little more connected. Connected to what, he doesn’t know.

It’s gotten bad though - this whole touch thing. Sometimes a hot girl’s arm will brush his, and the spike of shock goes to his heart and not his dick. Which isn’t how it’s supposed to go: that he knows for sure. And, when he goes out for walks, he never moves away from the people walking towards him. He deliberately bumps into them. Occasionally, they’ll throw a fuss, but his scowl shuts them up pretty quick. And then they walk off in a rush, so Haizaki’s left with his shoulder still throbbing from the contact.

At practice, once again, no one’s talking to him. Alright, fine, he knows it’s somewhat his fault. Maybe he shouldn’t have started yelling at them, when he strolled in for his first (and last) practice session of the week. But it’s not his fault that these losers are so incompetent. And, ‘cause they’re so incompetent, there’s no point being a team player around them. Teamwork is only worth it when everyone’s the same level. Hell, Fukuda Sogo Academy would probably do better in the tournaments if it was just him, Haizaki, playing - one him, and six opponent players. He’d win every match for sure.

What really pisses him off though, even more than his teammate’s mediocrity, is their post-practice spirit. When, despite his presence, everyone’s in a good mood, chatting together as they get changed, laughing together, slapping each other’s backs, nudging one another with their elbows. Ishida’s arm hangs loosely from the shoulder of one of the second years. Now, for the record, Haizaki fucking despises Ishida - and everything the captain stands for, and all the man’s ‘sportsmanship’ bullshit - but he wouldn’t mind an arm on his shoulder sometime.

That’s a joke. He would very much mind. He would punch Ishida right on the nose if the third year ever dared.

All these thoughts about arms on shoulders are just a weird kind of horny.

***

The house is pitch black by the time Haizaki arrives from school. He turns on the TV - his ears start to ring when it’s too quiet - but he leaves the lights off. His mother won’t be home till even later. And, when she does arrive, Haizaki will just move from the living room to his bedroom to avoid her, so it’ll be like she’s still not there. Just him, alone, at home.

Usually, Haizaki goes out. It feels more like night in this measly old flat, than on the city streets where every corner is alight, where he can sit in the shadows and watch everyone else live in the neons and yellows. But he’s too tired for any of that, today. Tired enough that he can barely hear the tv; it’s just monotonous white noise. He can’t even make out the words they’re saying.

He’s not usually tired from practice. He doesn’t usually put in any effort. But, today, another one of the first years pissed him off. That fucker, in Ishida’s words, ‘outdid’ himself today - running up and down the court like he was a fucking dog playing fetch, grinning and cheering when he scored again, his forehead gleaming with sweat.

And that really pissed Haizaki off. Something about how everyone gathered around said first year, and praised him, whilst he stood in the middle of the ring, wagging his tail. Haizaki’s the ace - he should be the one getting praised - or did everyone forget that.

So, Haizaki ran around a bit too, just to prove that he can score more than any of these fuckers - and that’s with his eyes closed. But then Ishida told him to pass more, so Haizaki stuck his middle finger up at him and stormed off. In the end, there was no real point to put in the effort.

***

His mother arrives home. She tells Haizaki his brother won’t be back tonight, which Haizaki already had presumed, cause the chicks won’t stay away from that guy. She makes him some curry, but he doesn’t want to leave his room, so she just leaves the bowl at his door. By the time he remembers to go get it, it’s already gone cold.

Later, scrolling through his favourite sites, he jerks off to the first video he clicks on. He didn’t even look at the thumbnail. He just moves his numb hand, up and down, like he’s a robot, until he feels the heat and the release. Until he feels something, is the main thing. And then, once it’s all over, he pulls the duvet over himself, and tries to sleep on his back. But he can’t fall asleep like that.

No, for some fucked reason, he can only sleep on his side these days. In a fetal position, with his arms wrapped around a pillow (and the pillow cover never warms up, no matter how long he holds it).

His hand is still numb. When his fingers grasp one another, his palm feels foreign. He tries to pretend that something, someone is there, on the other side, curled up beside him. And, eventually, after he tosses and turns a couple times, he’s asleep.

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