I wish I could talk to someone.

Tohru sighed and sat down. He felt so isolated, so alone. He hadn't talked to anyone in weeks, despite having tried his very best to. Still, no one responded, or even noticed. It was worse than the very first time he'd ever tried to make friends, all the way back in primary school.

He'd been a weird kid, but with good intentions, and an outgoing personality. He'd had a good group, too. Until he hit first grade, and all of his friends just started to ignore him, for some reason. If he tried to talk to them, they'd walk away. Once he finally worked up the courage to ask them about it, it was a simple reply of, "It was a joke! Just chill out!"

That reply, and those words, were the one thing he never forgot.

He'd cried for hours, and in an instant, lost his loquacious personality, shrinking into a shell and becoming shy and timid. He could never fully trust anyone again. It was a stupid reason, sure, but it didn't feel that way to him. He knew what it was like to be ignored. He hated it.

In middle school, he'd tried coming out of the shell he'd built for himself and ended up overcompensating. Now everyone saw him as an attention seeker, and a freak.

That was also around the time when he had first found volleyball.

It felt so good to be able to control something around himself, felt so good to be able to put drive into something, or effort, or anger, even. He practiced digs with his parents, his nephew, and even...

Kageyama.

In a brief burst of rebellion he had managed to get control of himself, after planning for a week. In that short moment, he had given Kageyama back to them. He hadn't managed to regain control after that. The demon was too aware, and therefore too alert, and he was no match for a being that powerful. He hoped what he had managed to do was enough.

He put his life on hold for volleyball, and practiced hours in the backyard, or staying up late, researching the positions and rules. He'd been drawn to the setter position ever since he'd first learned about it. To have that reliability, to have people trust you, to be able to trust them, it was all so...new. 

He loved it. He loved how they relied on him. He loved that they confided in him.

Until he didn't.

Suddenly he was keeping secrets, and people kept telling him things about themselves, and grievances that he wished he could take himself, instead of having to watch them suffer. If he could take all of his friend's and teammates pain and suffering, and put it onto himself instead, he would.

But he couldn't. That was the problem, and frankly, the scariest part. He couldn't do anything to help, when listening wasn't enough. He was kept awake at night, finding himself wishing he could tell someone, but he couldn't. He couldn't because he was the only person they could trust, and if he told them, they might stop trusting him, and then what?

When he was younger, Tohru wanted to be a hero.

Now, he just wanted to be free.