I don't know how long I sat there blanketed in silence and eyes.
Their eyes.
They didn't blink. Didn't breathe. Not unless I did first.
My gaze shifted to the fork on the floor. The one I slapped out of Osamu's hand. It rested there like a fallen dagger between gods and mortals. Between worship and war.
"You'll have to eat eventually," Oikawa said, voice smoother than the cream on the toast. He hadn't moved from where he stood near the nightstand, but his fingers were twitching like he was restraining himself.
"What? So you can say you broke me?" I scoffed. "Like it's some trophy?"
Atsumu let out a low laugh and leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed, head tilted.
"No, princess. You're the trophy. We already won."
"I'm not a prize."
"To us, you are," Bokuto said, his voice weirdly hopeful, too bright for the darkness thick in the air. "We just wanna see you happy. We'll do anything to make that happen."
I narrowed my eyes. "Even if it means keeping me locked up like a doll?"
"Dolls don't talk back," Suna muttered under his breath. "You're so much better than that."
"So let me go, then."
"No," Tsukishima finally spoke, his voice flat, but eyes shimmering with something dangerous. "You don't get it. There's no going back. We've crossed the point of no return."
"You crossed it," I snapped. "I never asked for this. I never..-"
"But we did," Terushima interrupted, stepping forward, and suddenly crouching near the foot of the bed. "We asked. Over and over. You just didn't hear us. But we screamed it. With every glance, every missed breath, every stolen second looking at you like we were starving."
"Then that's your problem," I hissed. "Not mine."
Silence again.
Osamu picked up the fork and set it back on the tray like nothing had happened. His movements were precise, delicate, careful like I was porcelain, not flesh and blood.
"You talk so strong, Y/n," he said quietly. "But your hands are still trembling."
I looked down.
They were.
Damn it.
"You're scared," Semi said, brushing hair from my face with a gentleness that made my bile rise in my throat. "And that's okay. Love is terrifying. But we're here. We'll protect you from everything… even yourself."
I slapped his hand away. "I don't want your protection."
"You'll beg for it someday," Tsukishima murmured. "And we'll be the only ones left willing to give it."
They moved like wolves circling slowly. No one was close enough to touch me anymore, but they all hovered. Possessive. Ready.
I pushed the blanket off and stood, my bare feet hitting the cold marble.
"I want a shower," I said stiffly.
Kuroo stepped toward the bathroom door and opened it like some dark butler prince. He even bowed slightly, mocking me with it.
"Hot water's already running, kitten."
I walked past him, body stiff, heart thundering.
As I passed Terushima, he leaned just a little closer and whispered, "We'll still be right here. Listening. Waiting."
The door closed behind me with a quiet click.
But I didn't feel alone.
In the Bathroom
I turned the faucet all the way up, the water rushing like a storm. I leaned against the wall, gripping the sink.
My reflection stared back at me haunted, wild-eyed, a girl unraveling thread by thread.
"This isn't happening," I muttered to myself. "This isn't happening. You'll get out. You always do. You're smart. You've survived worse."
The mirror didn't believe me.
Neither did I.
I stripped slowly, stepping into the steaming spray, letting it scald my skin, trying to burn away their touches. Their words. The hunger in their eyes.
But it clung to me like smoke.
Outside the Door
"Do you think she'll try to escape again?" Bokuto asked softly.
"She won't get far," Atsumu said confidently. "Not with the gates shut and Kuroo's men guarding every exit."
"I don't want her scared of us," Bokuto mumbled. "I just want her to love us."
"Fear is just love's shadow," Oikawa said. "She's already halfway there."
"I don't care if she hates us right now," Suna added. "As long as she breathes our name while she does it."
"She's going to be beautiful in that dress later," Terushima said suddenly, a dreamy smile on his face. "The one we picked out for tonight."
"It's not too tight, is it?" Osamu asked, concerned.
"No," Kuroo said, crossing his arms. "It's perfect. She'll look like the queen she is."
"And if she refuses?" Tsukishima asked bluntly.
"Then we carry her," Kuroo replied coldly. "With care, of course. Always with care."
Back Inside
I dried off, wrapping myself in the silk robe they left.
When I opened the door, all nine of them were still there waiting.
Like statues.
Like shadows.
Like I was the moon and they were cursed to orbit.
"You waited," I said blankly.
"Always," Osamu smiled.
"You didn't even give me a towel," I said bitterly.
"We didn't want to barge in," Kuroo smirked. "Not without permission."
"Since when do you care about that?"
A pause.
Then Semi answered, "Since it's something we can earn."
They followed me around the room like satellites. When I sat on the couch, they sat too. When I stood, so did they.
I paced in front of the fireplace. The logs crackled behind glass. I hated the warmth.
"You really plan on keeping me here forever?" I asked.
"If we have to," Atsumu said simply.
"And what? Play pretend family?"
"If that's what you need," Bokuto said hopefully.
"I'll never be yours," I said flatly.
"You already are," Terushima whispered.
Hours passed.
They brought lunch. I didn't touch it. They brought books. I didn't read them. They spoke soft, reverent things I refused to hear.
But I couldn't ignore the way they looked at me.
Like a dream they'd finally caught.
Like a flame they were willing to burn for.
I went to the window. The garden below was high-walled, manicured. Escape-proof.
I traced the glass.
"One day," I murmured to myself, "I'll make you all bleed for this."
Behind me, Atsumu chuckled darkly.
"Then I'll thank you for every drop."