Chapter Text
The ceiling fan in Suguru’s bedroom made an awful clinking sound every time it spun, a high-pitched rhythm of metal on glass. It was extremely annoying, yet Suguru refused to turn the fan off. He’d grown accustomed to the sound, and without it, the room felt eerily quiet. Besides, Satoru seemed to find comfort in it just as much as he did.
Satoru . Suguru had left him downstairs in the company of his parents, their muffled conversation mingling with the clink, clink, clink of the ceiling fan. His step-father was laughing loudly, probably at something Satoru had said. The sound boomed up the stairs and through the bedroom walls.
Suguru could imagine the scene perfectly. His step-father, Ren, drinking a beer behind the granite countertop and throwing his head back. His mother wrapping an arm around Satoru in a side-hug, leaning into him a little too much. And Satoru returning her affections with a tentative embrace, smiling at their reactions.
Suguru had gone upstairs to avoid his parents. They would’ve asked him about his day, and he hated talking about his day with anyone other than Satoru. The day was just that. A day. And basketball practice was just that. Basketball practice. And as much as Suguru would’ve liked to have heard Satoru’s joke, it wasn’t worth the other conversations that came with it.
Suguru lifted his hand, running a finger under the curtains. The sun was behind the neighbor’s house, the death of the day painted in vibrant colors across the late-summer sky. It was setting on the first week of senior year, and Suguru couldn’t have been happier. Only approximately 39 more to endure before graduation. 39 more until he walked across that stage, leaving with a handshake and a piece of paper. No honor roll. No special signatures. No outstanding scholarships. Just that fancy piece of printer paper. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Maybe that was why he hated being around his parents. They expected academically excellent things that he couldn’t care less about. It wasn’t that they were pressuring him, because they weren’t… at least not openly. With them it was subtle, a silent glare lasting a little too long, or a comment left open for interpretation, but Suguru could always read between the lines. Always .
Suguru sighed, letting the curtains fall closed and turning on the dim side lamp on his nightstand. The knots in his shoulders seemed tighter. The sweat from basketball practice seemed stickier. The ache in his knees bothered him more than usual. But Suguru could hear Satoru’s heavy footsteps on the stairwell and felt himself relax.
Satoru did his little knock on the door, three pounds of his fist followed by a silly jiggle of the handle before walking inside.
“Sugu, Lisa asked about you,” he singsonged. He tossed his bags on the carpeted floor, the textbooks inside dropping with a thud. He sat on the foot of Suguru’s bed and crossed his legs, leaning his back against the wall. “You should go down and talk to her sometime tonight.”
“Seriously?” Suguru complained, his eyes finding the ceiling fan again. Clink, clink, clink.
Satoru grinned, tapping his knees to the uncoordinated beat of the fan. “Do you ever let your mom hug you?” he asked. “Because she sure likes hugging me .”
Suguru laughed. “Was it a side hug?”
“Three separate ones during the same conversation.”
Suguru nodded, his suspicions confirmed. “Figures.”
“How’d you know?”
“I just did,” Suguru said, throwing his feet up on Satoru’s lap. “How else is a middle-aged, touch-deprived mother of one supposed to show affection towards her son that’s not her son?”
“You’re hilarious. Truly,” Satoru said, resting his arms on Suguru’s ankles.
There was a brief silence before Suguru asked, “Do you wanna stay the night?”
“Sure.”
“Cool.”
“If we’re gonna sleep beside each other, you’re gonna have to take a shower because those feet… stink real bad, Sugu,” he said, pinching his nose and shivering. “ Real bad.”
Suguru picked up his foot and slapped Satoru’s cheek with it. “You sure you’re not smelling your own feet?”
“Oh no, it’s definitely your feet. I have the smell memorized.”
Suguru deadpanned. “You did not just say that.”
Satoru threw his head back and laughed, the sound unlike any laugh Suguru had heard before. It was bubbly, like suds in a hot bathtub. If Suguru could assign it a color, it would be a light shade of blue with little specks of gold glitter.
“We should take a shower together. Just to make sure we’re both washing our feet of course,” Satoru suggested, raising his eyebrows.
“The most popular people are the weirdest in private,” Suguru said with a laugh, tucking his sock feet under Satoru’s knees. “If everyone at school knew how fucking crazy you are, I’d be your only friend.”
“Little does everyone at school know, you actually are my only friend,” Satoru said, smiling. “And besides, I think I’m pretty weird in public too.”
“I am not your only friend,” Suguru assured. “Everyone loves you so don’t even play that card.”
“You’re the only friend that matters,” Satoru said, shrugging. “I wouldn’t ask just anyone from school to take a shower with me, so that means you’re special.”
“I’m not taking a shower with you, Satoru.”
“Why not?” he complained.
Suguru glared, putting his hands behind his head. “Are you trying to get me naked or something?”
“Maybe,” Satoru said, a mischievous grin on his face. “I’d love to wash your hair. I bet you shed a lot in the shower.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Suguru said, throwing a pillow at Satoru. How did he know?
He caught it easily and placed it on Suguru’s stomach.
“For somebody who flirts all the time, you sure are lonely, aren’t you?” Suguru said.
“I got you . How can I be lonely?”
“I meant a girlfriend, Satoru,” Suguru said, scanning him up and down. “You know? A girl . I’m sure there are plenty just itching for the chance to get with you.”
“Maybe I should make that my goal by the end of senior year. Get a girlfriend that’s not Suguru. Noted.”
Suguru smiled, throwing the pillow back at Satoru. He caught it again, hugging it close to his chest this time.
“Do you wanna take a shower before me?” Suguru asked.
“Why don’t we just save water and shower together. For the environment’s sake.”
“Take a shower,” Suguru said. “By yourself.”
Satoru smiled and got up to leave, taking a clean pair of Suguru’s boxers and a t-shirt with him. “Do you know how many people would kill to have an opportunity like this?”
Suguru laughed. “My mom would.”
“Don’t be like that, Sugu,” Satoru said, trying and failing to keep a straight face as he slipped out the door and down the hall toward the bathroom.
Suguru’s grin faded the longer he was alone.
Clink, clink, clink.
. . .
Suguru owned a very old, practically ancient, cat named Mimi. She was white with black spots and blue eyes. Ren had found her in a box on the side of the road when Suguru was in kindergarten, which meant, by all miracles of nature, Mimi was almost thirteen years old. She could barely see or hear, but somehow, she could sense whenever Satoru was around because she’d hide under Suguru’s bed until the coast was clear.
When Suguru woke to the weight of Mimi on his chest, he knew Satoru had left. He ran his hand over where Satoru should’ve been, feeling the imprint he’d left behind. He embraced Mimi, kissing the side of her face. She purred, the sound vibrating through Suguru’s chest.
The fan was still clinking away. Sometimes, Suguru swore it had stopped, fixing itself when he was asleep, but after a few hard blinks and a short stretch, it started up again, the familiar sound reminding him it was morning.
At least it was the weekend and not a school day.
Satoru’s light blue laughter echoed up the stairs, which could mean only one thing. His mother was making breakfast.
Suguru gently sat Mimi on his pillow, giving her a soft pat on the head before going downstairs. Satoru was seated at the breakfast bar, his white hair sticking in every direction. He still had sleep in his eyes, and he was mid-yawn when he first saw Suguru.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he said through the yawn, giving him a big smile afterwards.
Suguru sighed. “I told you to stop with the pet names.”
“I can’t help it. You look so lovely in the mornings.”
Suguru stared at his mother, watching her shoulders shake with laughter.
“Can’t say the same about you,” Suguru said, messing up Satoru’s hair even more before sitting beside him.
“Now you’re just being mean.”
Suguru’s mother flipped a pancake in the frying pan, looking over at them. “You two will never change, will you?’
“I’m always so nice to Sugu. He’s the one hindering this friendship.”
Suguru rolled his eyes, glaring at Satoru as his mother placed two plates of pancakes in front of them. “There’s not going to be a friendship if you don’t stop,” he said.
“Stop what?” Satoru asked, a sly grin on his face.
Suguru ignored him, picking his plate up to take to his room. “Thank you, mom.”
“Wait, Suguru,” she called out from the sink. “I meant to ask you yesterday, but I didn’t see you. How was your day at school?”
Oh, the dreaded “how was your day” question. He was sure he’d escaped it.
“The usual,” he said, shrugging. He turned back towards the stairs, but she called out to him again.
“Satoru said you did well at basketball practice. What do you think the season will be like? It’s your last one, you know?” she continued, wringing her hands in a dish towel.
Suguru shrugged again, subtly glaring at Satoru. “Probably no different than any of the past years. I think they just let me on the team so I can be a practice dummy for Satoru.”
“That’s not true,” Satoru groaned, grabbing his plate and standing beside Suguru. “You’re on the team because you’re a good player.”
“Good players don’t sit the bench. Besides, I’ve accepted it.”
“You just have to keep practicing. I’m sure your coach will notice-”
“Thank you, mom, but I really don’t need the extra encouragement. I’m not a star like Satoru, and I’m fine with that.”
She nodded, obviously shutting down. “I’ll still be there to watch, okay.”
Suguru forced a smile. He could tell he was disappointing her, and a tight, dreadful knot began to tighten in his stomach because of it. “At least you’ll get some action from Satoru.”
She looked at Satoru, returning the smile he was giving her.
“Why don’t we eat on the swings today, Sugu?” he interrupted, tugging the sleeve of Suguru’s t-shirt towards the back door. “It’s nice out.”
When Suguru stepped outside into the late-August morning, he tried his best to shrug off the conversation with his mother. He liked to pretend basketball didn’t bother him, along with a lot of other things, but it was getting more and more difficult. Of course he wanted to play, be the star even, but that wasn’t in the cards he’d been dealt. He didn’t like her bringing it up, and when she did, which was every conversation, he felt the urge to lash out. He hated himself for it, because his mother was sweet, almost too sweet, like chocolate icing on chocolate cake with chocolate ice cream, and sometimes it was too much.
“Do you really feel that way?” Satoru asked, sitting on his swing. “The whole practice dummy thing.”
Suguru shrugged, sitting down beside him. “Yes and no.”
He rocked back and forth, the swing creaking softly each time. Suguru couldn’t remember Ren putting up the swing, or when he and Satoru decided who got which side, but the nature of it was innate. The back of it faced the tall fence and the flower bed his mother kept up each spring and summer. In the winter, it became a graveyard for the previous year’s flowers. The front of it faced the back porch. It had been added on when Suguru was in middle school, and the wood didn’t match the brick at all. Even though it wasn’t aesthetically pleasing, Suguru liked it anyway.
“Sugu, did you hear what I just said?” Satoru said through a mouthful of pancakes.
“No.”
“Why did you say ‘yes and no’ and not just ‘yes’ or ‘no’?”
Suguru raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes yes and sometimes no. Is that better?”
“Not really.”
Suguru sighed, dragging his feet through the grass. It was still wet with the morning dew. “Let’s just move on from this topic of conversation please.”
“I don’t want you to hate me over basketball. That would be stupid-”
“Please don’t worry about that,” Suguru said. “It would take a lot more for me to hate you.”
“What would it take for you to hate me?” Satoru asked, the hint of a laugh in his voice.
Suguru smiled. “Maybe if you killed my family, committed mass genocide or other unnamed war crimes, kidnapped children, murdered my cat-”
“Okay, I get it,” Satoru said, stifling a laugh. “If I ever did any of those things, just know it would be completely by accident.”
“Imagine if you accidently killed Mimi,” Suguru mused.
“Not gonna lie to you, I sometimes fantasize about it.”
“Oh, come on!” Suguru said, eyes widening. “She’s never done anything to you.”
“I’ve tried to befriend her many times, and she just won’t have it.”
“Maybe that’s a you problem and not a Mimi problem.”
Satoru laughed, light blue emitting from him. “You tell Mimi that she better sleep with one eye open, okay?”
“Not that it would matter. She’s blind.”
Satoru grinned, setting his plate on the grass and swinging back and forth. “I think she’s putting on that act to make you feel sorry for her.”
Suguru swung with him. His hair blew back and then forward again, some of the strands getting in his mouth. “So you think Mimi’s some kind of evil mastermind manipulating me into following her every command?”
“Something like that,” Satoru said.
They stayed on the swings for another hour, letting the comfort of childhood routines rub circles across their backs.