Chapter Text
I never knew somebody like you
[…]
Maybe it's a blessing in disguise
(I see myself in you) I see my reflection in your eyes
(reflection - the neighbourhood)
“Did ya’ll see ‘bout that new kid? Suna somethin’.” Gin’s voice grows a little louder through the chaos.
It’s Aran’s birthday, and, in lieu of celebrating, they decided to throw him a surprise party. After much pleading, Atsumu and Osamu’s mother allowed them to have more than a couple people over, though it was clear she only accepted it because it was for Aran. Now, they are divided by tasks. Shinsuke relegated baking the cake to Osamu who had his heart beating erratically for being subjected to his trust, and instead opted to clean the living room, while Osamu’s clown of brother, joined by other two buffoons, took all day to tie some damn balloons, hang up a sign and a couple posters.
That summons Atsumu to the living room, he quickly dries his hands in his sweatpants. “Yeah?
Hot or…?”
“Yer so fucking shallow” Osamu retorts.
Atsumu barks out a laugh. “Please, ya don’t know the name of half of the guys ya hook up with.”
“And ya do?”
Before the conversation runs out of topic, Gin cuts in. “From Emi and Yukie’s reaction, he’s as hot as they come. He's supposed to be in our class.”
Their town was small, even the coast was not enough to attract tourists… or any kind of people at all. So, as the days went by, anytime Osamu was near people, any person really, all he could hear was how great it was that Suna Rintaro was coming to their lame ass town, that his mom used to live here and was transferred again from the big city, how he was tall, had green eyes, looked like a fucking tibetian fox. His ma would say he was an exemplary student, that Osamu should befriend him to help with his grades, meanwhile everyone from school was drooling at the mere mention of him with the claim that there wasn’t anyone attractive in their town – something Atsumu was extremely offended by and created a whole contest to prove otherwise.
So, while Osamu doesn't want to dislike the town's newest golden boy, the constant whispers and giggles that surround his name are sure trying to make him.
With the beginning of the school year, Osamu expected to see him giving out autographs through the hallways. But all he came to when arriving at class were the usual suspects. He’d come a little later than Atsumu, and it was no surprise to find him sitting on someone else’s desk while enthusiastically, or better yet dramatically, telling Gin and Emi how he accidentally set his amp on fire, Akaashi silently reading a book near the window, whilst Akagi and Aran, who aren’t even in their class, argued over consoles with Kosaku. Most students are usually scattered in between activities before class starts and even if the whispers of Suna’s seemed to die down, Osamu could tell it’d only momentarily subsided due to their anticipation.
At first it seemed like they all imagined him, their professor arrived, started and ended their first period with no sign of Suna. His arrival came an hour and a half later than it was supposed to. And he looked like the opposite of all Osamu had imagined from the descriptions: an emo boy, eyes lined with black and hands full of rings. Osamu was not one to care for first impressions, yet something switched when the talk of the town finally materialized into a person that seemed nothing like they idealized.
Still, watching Suna wasn't more interesting than the nap he usually takes by this time of class. And thankfully, by now he knows Atsumu will take the notes.
Osamu only realizes he had fallen asleep when a constant poking on his back wakes him. The complaint already in his tongue fades away after turning sharply and is replaced by the confusion of being face to face with the new guy.
“Can I have a piece of paper?” The lack of energy Suna speaks with draws out a familiar feeling.
He follows through with the request, pulling one out and handing it to him. Their brief exchange was all the excitement reserved for Osamu's morning, even his most talkative colleagues were unusually quiet, until break. That's when all hell came loose, he may not have had the goal of snooping, but it became unavoidable with everyone's curiosity over Suna materialized as the constant presence of his classmates behind him.
Still, meeting a new person wasn’t something Osamu was accustomed to either. Making it inevitable to keep a mental log of Suna’s behavior. That’s how he noticed was how unmannered Suna was, much like Atsumu in some ways, specially since he routinely asked Osamu for a paper, it had him keeping a paper in hands even before the first bell rang, and still Suna never uttered a single thank you towards Osamu. He also came to the conclusion that all the rumors seemed to be built on a lie, the golden, intelligent and refined boy was in fact snarky, sarcastic and manipulative, the contrast of the boy he heard to the boy he sees gives whiplash, yet somehow people didn’t mind. Maybe it's because Suna was still attractive, not by Osamu’ standards, it was just easy to tell with the amount of girls that started hounding the seat behind him. Actually, for a brief moment he got to revel in Atsumu’s despair, which, unfortunately, disappeared quickly, because in their messed up way, the two actually became friends.
In fact, “Sunarin” befriended all of Osamu's friends.
And he spoke to everyone except Osamu.
It wasn’t for lack of trying on Osamu’s part. Aiming to put aside his trivial discontent in order to make Suna feel welcomed, was futile. He was being purposefully ignored. It was easy to tell when the short and few attempts he made were met with simple dismissals that would be entertained if originating from another person, be it in class break, be it when they were all hanging out outside of school.
It hadn’t been a full two weeks after Suna’s arrival in school when Osamu spotted him in an alley, smoking amongst the burnouts, though their styles weren’t much different, Suna still managed to stand out between them. He didn’t watch for long, still it was enough for Suna to see him, level his gaze, and as the duration of his stare tethered to an uncomfortable territory, Osamu broke away. Hands on his pockets, he continued on his path to class.
After that incident, Suna must’ve caught on to Osamu’s curiosity, because he started observing him back. Once, as all their friends made their way to the park near Aran’s house, Osamu noticed how Suna had stayed behind, with a camera in hand. When he eventually was caught staring, Suna took a sudden photograph, Osamu’s startledness surely ruined it.
It seemed like a pact was created when their eyes met. They had discovered a weird, newfound type of intimacy.
So Osamu would watch. Watch the way he spoke to the girls, watch the way his chronic slouch would only disappear when taking pictures of details Osamu hadn’t even noticed. Watch Suna’s extended hand, demanding a piece of paper. Watch him always reach for a jacket. Watch his reactions to whatever food he ate. But, the most important thing to Osamu was to watch the conversations. How Suna would tease Atsumu the same way Osamu tends to do, how direct he is, how he twists his words ever so slightly to get what he wants, how amidst it all, the smoking, the quietness, the sarcasm, the teasing, he’s just like them. A teenage boy. For some unknown reason, Osamu keeps forgetting about that. That he’s only a boy.
He feels like much more.
The tumultuousness of his feelings has his hands shaking towards the notebook he keeps hidden. Still, he doesn’t waver in its direction.
A month into the school year was when they had their first actual conversation, and the exchange was so ordinary it felt out of place. The class was already empty, most of the students striding to their clubs and extracurriculars. It wasn’t uncommon for Osamu to be the only person leftover, especially since taking naps during class became a necessity and Atsumu only woke him when his mood was right.
“Can I have your class notes?” Suna asked.
“Fuck– Damn Suna… ya almost killed me, what are ya doing doing here?” Osamu would vehemently deny the little jump he gave on his seat.
“I want your class notes” He uses the same matter-factly tone Osamu had heard him use with others.
“Fer today? Yeah sure, lemme get that… It's a little scattered, lemme know if ya need help..” He searches through his backpack.
“For the month.”
Osamu turns sharply to face Suna “What? What have ya been writing on those papers I gave ya?”
Suna deadpans “Writing class notes. Now can I have them or not?”
“Sure whatever, I need ‘em back monday though”
“I’ll just give them back tomorrow since I’ll be at your house”
Osamu inadvertently scowls. “What?”
“Atsumu”
Of course. He wants to choke his brother for not running it by him. “See ya tomorrow.”
“Ya invited Suna to our house?! What’s wrong with ya?!” The second their mother closes the door, Osamu can finally try to kill the unsettling feeling that’s been driving him crazy ever since his conversation with Suna.
Atsumu only shrugs it off. “Sunarin’s my friend, why shouldn’t I? And y’all call me dramatic.”
“I don’t want him here.”
Atsumu scoffs. “Yer just mad he ain’t head over heels over ya.”
“Like hell I –”
“Look, Sunarin ain’t yer sugary sweet nice. But he’s fun, ya just get used to his way. Why do ya care so much?”
“I don't care.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Atsumu laughs “Now quit acting like a baby just ‘cus someone likes me better than they like ya.” The condescending smile he has is enough to drive Osamu insane.
“Ya —” The taunting, the cockiness, the superiority Atsumu claims to have make him lose it faster than possible. Osamu’s whole body boils and he never needed much incentive from his brother before losing his cool, so, even though he resents himself for it, he can't help but lunge for Atsumu's neck. Blood is thicker than water.
Before the first blow comes, the doorbell rings.
They stay still, holding each other by the collar, and after making brief eye contact, Osamu lets go so that Atsumu can dust himself off, narrowing his eyes at Osamu before opening the door for their friends and Suna.
Gin started speaking before he even entered. “I wanted to wait for you to stop fighting. He was the one who made us barge in to stop it.” He jerks a finger towards a stressed Aran.
“And ya?” Osamu turns to Suna.
“I was hoping I'd take a picture of you with a black eye.” He answers while making his way into the living room.
“So yer rooting fer Atsumu?”
Suna laughs. “And feed his ego?”
Before Osamu can add to the conversation, Suna’s already out of reach. So he ignores it, in favor of spending his time in the kitchen. Osamu isn’t privy to what they all planned getting together for, out he does notice how a few of his friends are missing. Aran joins in as he finishes the remaining batches of onigiri, while Gin, Suna and Atsumu stay in the living room.
Following the rhythm they built cooking together for years, Aran accompanies Osamu in forming them. It’s become second nature, he only realized his focus has strayed when Aran points it out.
“Give it time, ‘Samu.” The open plan makes them close to the guys, but he speaks in a volume that doesn’t allow them to listen.
“I’m not worried about him.” Osamu molds the rice until he deems it worthy.
“Suure, ya aren’t.” The way Aran elongates the ‘u’ has Osamu furrow his eyebrows, “Y’know, Sunarin’s a lot like ya, great friend but doesn’t get vulnerable with anyone.”
“Seems like ‘Tsumu’s tryin’ his damn hardest to be that person” Osamu doesn't intend to sound spiteful. But it can’t escape him as he watches the two interact.
“No, no. If anything, ‘Tsumu’s just tryin’ to annoy ya. Even if he thinks Suna’s hot, I don’t think he’ll make a move.”
“Why the hell not?” Osamu gets the last tray from the fridge, putting aside the onigiri’s destined for his mother and Aran’s.
“Sunarin keeps busy with the girls.”
Osamu scoffs “Like that ever stopped him”
“Well, ‘Samu, how’s Akaashi?”
“Hey. That’s different and ya know it. I ain’t turned him, he just needed a little help figurin’ stuff out. But he’s fine, I guess… We don’t talk much.”
“Wha– How? You’ve been hooking up for over a year. He literally sits in front of you in class.” The shock makes Aran accidentally raise his voice.
Osamu only brushes it off. “We’re just casual.”
“Jesus, ya and ‘Tsumu will be the death of me.” Aran groans as he makes his way to the sofa with the few onigiri he assembled.
Before Osamu can defend himself, Atsumu shouts. “Is the food ready or what? ’M hungry”
“Keep rushing me and I’ll serve y'all garbage.”
“You'd serve me garbage?” Suna’s proximity catches Osamu off guard.
He has no idea of when he got to the kitchen, but there he was, leaning off a stool on the counter Osamu was using. His head tilted to the side, similar to a curious fox, and Osamu doesn’t trust him to be genuine. Everything Suna did, or everything Osamu had watched him do threw him off his game.
It’s hard to be neutral towards him. He wants to shake Suna until there’s an understandable explanation. A month of many observations and zero conclusions. ‘Why me?’ wants to slip out. The question plagues him, drowns in his mind. But it can’t, it shouldn’t.
Instead, he asks himself, Why him? Why Suna?
It’s making a mess in his head, because he isn’t like Atsumu, heart on his sleeve, vulnerability as a strength, burning, inescapable, contagious.
He’s everything Atsumu isn’t.
Living by the beach, Osamu had always seen himself in the sea. He claims its beautiful stillness, its unnerving calmness, while repressing its contradiction, its destruction.
He allows no balance. It’s either or.
So, he isn’t supposed to alter the scales. No one's allowed past the surface. There’s an omen surrounding his curiosity. He must remain as he is. Still, calm, unwavering.
His nature doesn’t betray him. “Talkative lately, aren’tcha?”
“Only when there’s something bothering me.”
Osamu dries his hands on a kitchen towel and leans on the counter. “And what would that be?”
Suna studies Osamu “C'mon, it's easy.”
Osamu stares at Suna’s eyes.“What? Me?” When Suna nods, he continues, aware he’s tethering a dangerous line. Talking to Suna feels like a game he has no chance to win. “Whadda ya mean?”
“From what I hear, you’re smart enough to figure it out on your own”
“Asked around?” Osamu teases.
“Not my style.” Suna quips back.
“What is yer style?”
Suna eyes him up and down. “Figure it out.” Then, he makes his way back to the rest of the group, onigiris in hand, he says. “Food's ready.”
Osamu hates lying to his mother, but when one of his favorite bands “Arctic Foxes” decided to throw an impromptu show at what he discovered was an abandoned mill, there’s no other option. Following the train tracks his mother did her best to traumatize him into avoiding, Osamu wanders into the dark until he finds the fence he’s supposed to jump, ignoring the “No Trespassing" sign.
The concert hadn’t been promoted, he only found out by accident when navigating through the band’s internet forums. But the loud rock music with the bright lights was as good of an indication as any. And even with the bouncer at the entrance, getting in was no issue, he hardly checked for id.
The inside was crowded, still Osamu didn't recognize a single soul. Not that he cared about it, now no one would distract him from the music, but when beelining to the stage, the crowd didn’t budge in the slightest. After looking around, he spots his salvation: stairs. Something that could potentially be even better if the balcony was empty.
Making his way up the decrepit wooden path he’s invaded with the thought his mother would kill if she knew he was here, thankfully, whenever he needed to lie, and it was rarely ever, Gin agreed to cover for him. He's aware Gin only does it because it’s not frequent, still, Osamu pays him off by cooking his favorite dishes.
After taking a look around, Osamu concludes the balcony is even better than he assumed it could be, he can see the band clear as day, and unlike his brother, he has no desire to be amidst the crowd. Now all he had to do was pray no one would venture to his location, either security – which apart from the bouncer he’s pretty sure there is none – or another fan.
Sitting in the ledge, he watches for afar as an unknown band plays their set, before introducing the main attraction. Osamu's mind wanders, letting itself enjoy the music for what it is. The volume is just right.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
No one he knows should be here, yet Osamu recognized the voice.
“Suna?” He turns only to be sure, and of course it had to be him, dressed similarly to what Osamu was used to, still, his clothes managed to be even more ripped than usual, his eyeliner making Suna's eyes as magnetizing as ever. Osamu can't discern his feelings, especially the confusing way he doesn't dread their encounter. Instead, he opts to turn his torso and show Suna the band tee. ”They're one of my favorite bands.”
Suna smugly shows off the pins on his messenger bag. “Good taste… Are you here by yourself?”
Osamu nods. “Yup. Ya?”
“Yeah” Suna replies, then offers Osamu a bottle. “Hate the taste of beer.”
And although drinking wasn’t in Osamu's plans, one drink never killed anybody.
“Why do ya have it?” He signals for Suna to sit beside him, and to Osamu's surprise the awkwardness of the conversation doesn’t stop him.
“Bought it by accident” Suna takes a swig of his weird colored drink. After a beat of silence, he adds “I’m surprised the band even knows this town exists.”
“They’re from here.” Osamu replies plainly, chugging his beer.
“No way.”
“Yeah it’s a lie.” He chuckles “I don’t know why they come either. That’s my best guess though.”
Suna pauses, giving it more thought than Osamu thinks is necessary. When he speaks, Suna’s tone isn't friendly, but tainted with a bitter curiosity “Aren't you full of surprises.”
“Is that a good or a bad thing?”
“I don’t know, but you wouldn’t get it anyway.” He says, and Osamu doesn't take offense, only refocuses on the music. The ambience makes him feel as if in another dimension where everything is easier, lighter.
“Yeah. They need to start soon, I’m getting bored with these guys repeating songs.” Osamu says while stretching his arms, the old shirt now a bit tight with the weight he’s gained. To his surprise, he notices Suna staring at him, when he’s caught, his gaze refocuses on Osamu’s eyes.
“Is that not your default mood?”
“Only when yer around.”
“Nu-huh. I see the way your eyes shine when I'm near.” Suna's deep stare demands more of him.
“Careful Sunarin, I might get the impression yer into me or somethin.’”
Suna barks out a laugh “Gross. You wish, Miya. Wait… does your brother know you’re here?”
“What’s it to ya?”
“A bribe.” Suna has mischievousness written all over him.
“Nah. No way ‘Tsumu would believe ya.”
This prompts Suna to quickly remove a small camera from his bag, snapping a blurry shot of Osamu trying to hide his face.
“What about now?” Suna shakes the picture to develop faster.
“Whadda ya want Suna?” Osamu sighs, pretending he doesn't enjoy the antics.
“A favor.”
“That all?” The question is filled with suspicion.
“Uhum. I’ll call it when I need it.”
“Alright” Osamu extends his hand “Let’s shake on it.”
“You don’t trust my word?”
“I don’t even trust yer shake.”
Suna laughs, but goes through with it. His hands are soft and slim, and Osamu notes how it contrasts his calloused ones. He settles on not thinking about it, but his attempt results in him accidentally letting the touch linger.
“Oh.” He snaps out of it, surprised Suna didn’t let go immediately. “I think it’s gon’ start.”
Osamu must’ve unconsciously turned to face Suna, he readjusts himself to face the stage, in the somewhat uncomfortable quietness as the band finishes setting up. For all Osamu enjoys and prefers to be alone, and for all he thinks Suna is unsettling, his company was… nice. Suna knows all Osamu’s favorite songs. He’s glad they ran into each other, but when he steals glances, he recognizes Aran’s words, they are more similar than he’s comfortable admitting.
When the Arctic Foxes play the last song, Osamu turns to leave.
“What’s the rush?” Suna intercepts.
“Need to get home. Gin’s expecting me”
“He’s the only one that knows you’re here?”
“Uhum. Gotta be careful ‘cus of my ma.” When Suna gives him a weird look, Osamu adds “Yer mom knows yer here?”
Suna snorts “Yeah. She doesn’t give a shit.”
“Oh. That’s nice I guess” He accidentally phrases it like a question. “Ma would kill me if she knew. But yeah, I gotta go, Gin needs to sleep.”
“Wait. Sleep over at mine.” Suna blurts out.
They only watch each other for a minute, unsure if the request was supposed to happen. But, that doesn't stop Osamu's mental crossroads that are instantly solved by what he sees in Suna’s eyes. “I'll text him.”
When Osamu pockets his phone, Suna is standing up near the stairs.
“Let’s grab you another drink and me another vodka… I don’t know what this is to be honest. Who cares? It tastes good enough.”
They walk side by side, the place has been considerably emptied, but, since some local bands are supposed to play now, a couple people stuck around. Meaning, the line for the bar is short enough to make you stay, but long enough to be irritating
“Ya know any of the bands ‘bout to play?” Osamu asks with genuine curiosity.
“I’ve been hearing of Bite me Monkeys. Don’t —”
“Rintaro, where the hell have you been? I’ve been texting you, don’t you check your phone?” A short ginger comes their way, she’s red with anger, but when she spots Osamu her eyes get clouded with suspicion.
“Oh, yeah. My bad Katsu.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
Suna is quiet for a moment. “Yeah, that's pretty much it.”
She exhales. “Did you you at least get my beer? Let's go home.”
Studying her and Osamu, Suna turns to the girl. “Sorry. You can’t come over anymore.”
“What?” She snorts.
“Yeah. Oh and…” Suna quickly gets a random beer from the barstool. “Here.”
She takes it unconsciously, her eyes darting from Suna to Osamu as she tries to make sense of the situation. “Don’t ever text me again, Rintaro.”
When she leaves Osamu turns to Suna, expression neutral.
“You’re not gonna ask?” Suna says.
Truthfully, Osamu has a plethora of questions that only circle the same point. But, he shouldn’t ask what’s been haunting him. Instead, Osamu says “It’s yer business.”
With new drinks in hand, they make their way to stand near the stage. With a mix of cover songs and originals, Osamu didn’t see the night go by, only checking his phone when they announced the event was over.
It was the break of dawn, the sun was close to rise. The path home opposed the loudness they were subjected to, now both boys were quiet, only making small comments on the songs they had listened to. The journey was long, especially since they couldn’t hitchhike on any trains.
Being beside Suna becomes less and less strange. It didn’t happen many times, but the more Osamu does it, the more he has to admit to himself he enjoys it.
When they get to the house, Suna beelines for the kitchen.
“My mother’s already left for work. You hungry?” He says, placing eggs and rice on the counter.
“Starving.”
“Great. Cook us something.”
Osamu chuckles.”Yer a terrible host.”
“I want Omurice.”
Osamu searches for a pan. “Alright, alright Suna.”
“Don’t call me that.” He utters suddenly “One time or another is fine. Just not all the time.”
“Ok.” Osamu takes the frying pan Suna offers. “Whadda ya want me to call ya?”
“Well, there’s Sunarin’” The annoyance he portrays doesn’t hide his small smile “Or Rintaro. Yeah, call me by my name.”
“Rintaro? Sure. Any special reason?” His eyes focused on cooking, the name burning his tongue.
“I wanted to hear how it sounded coming from you.” Suna sits on a barstool, resting his elbows on the counter, a hand propping his head up.
“Yer so weird.” These are the only words Osamu finds, but they fit him just fine when using Suna’s first name feels like breaking a rule. Osamu utters a forbidden word, he’s guilty of a victimless crime.
“I know you enjoy my company.”
Hit with something he wants to argue against but can’t, they stay in a comfortable silence, decorated by their humming.
Unaware of how long it lasted, the peace is cut short by a ringtone.
“Fuck it’s ma —“ Osamu quickly dries his hands and holds his phone in his ear with his shoulder. “Hi ma, Sleep well? Me? Yeah, just fine. Oh, cooking breakfast, Rin—Sunarin kept bugging me to make him somethin’. What? Sorry I thought I texted ya I ended up coming to his house. Yeah, the same that ‘Tsumu’s friends with. Aham. Yeah. Ok ma, I love ya. See ya soon.”
When he hangs up Suna has a convoluted look on his face.
“What?”
“You’re a mama’s boy. Cute” The customary teasing is overlapped with a standoffish tone.
Osamu stares at him for a second, then says “She needs me to carry some stuff. I’ll be out after we eat.”
Suna’s only response is nodding. Yet, they share a silent understanding. Osamu should've stayed for longer.
Osamu had been sitting sideways on his desk, when Akaashi called his name, making him turn to the front. “Are you going to the class trip?”
“Uhum.” Though his words are contained, his excitement makes itself known by the way he nods his head a bit faster than usual. “Can’t believe it’s already here. Now I’m just praying I won’t have to bunk with ‘Tsumu again.”
Akaashi chuckles, it doesn't happen often, but it always manages to endear Osamu “Well I hope you and I –”
“Osamu, paper.” Suna interrupts, sticking his hand out.
He shoves it in Suna’s hand, turning back to his conversation “Go on Akaashi”
“Please, Keiji. We’re more than familiar now.”
Osamu has a sly smile when he slowly repeats the name “Sure thing, Keiji.”
“I was trying to say we –”
Keiji stops talking when Osamu is hit by a paper ball, both of them turn to face Suna as he explains “My bad. I was aiming for the trash can.”
“It’s on the other side of the room” Keiji points out.
Suna shrugs. “Bad aim.”
Osamu blocks Suna from Keiji’s view to try and continue their conversation “Ignore him. So…ya wanna room together?”
A while had gone by since Osamu and Suna had begun regularly talking to each other, the game Osamu used to recognize developed into its own monstrosity, laying the basis to their foundation. Now, not friends, but nowhere near strangers, he appreciated Suna’s snarkyness and sarcasm, but Osamu was still getting used to being the sole victim of his snide and elaborate provocations.
“Osamu” Suna's small pout was a hoax. “Did you forget we’re rooming together?”
“No we aren’t, ya cockblocker” Osamu whispers the last word.
“Already filled out the papers. Better luck next time Akaashi” His words are filled with condescension.
“Don’t worry about me Suna-san. I’m well aware of how to get what I want.”
Later, when Atsumu, Osamu, Suna and Aran are on their way to eat ramen, Osamu walks slower to stand by Suna’s side.
“Why did ya pull that fer? Ya may have yer whole secret agenda, but no need to drag Keiji into it.” Osamu’s genuinely curious.
“I was doing you a favor.”
“What? Saving me from a good time with a hot guy? And did ya actually fill out the paperwork?”
“Uhum.” When Suna sees Osamu pinching his nose he continues, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards “Ask me to stop.”
“It’s fine.” He grunts.
“God, you’re just as stubborn as your brother.”
“Did y'all say my name?” Atsumu stopped talking to Aran to ask.
“No. Quit being nosy.” Osamu answers like a reflex.
Atsumu groans “Yer so fucking weird together. I hate that yer friends now.”
The customary protest already in his tongue, Osamu stays quiet to gauge Suna's reaction. Neither of them speak against it.
“Actually, nah, my bad, y'all aren't friends, right? Started dating already?” Atsumu knows exactly how to piss Osamu off.
“Wait. That would make so much sense.” Aran talked as if Atsumu just discovered gravity. “With all the staring, the bickering, the talking about each other” Suna and Osamu’s eyes accidentally make brief eye contact.
“What? I'd never date –” Osamu’s reaction is cut short by Suna’s laugh
“Yeah, right. No way I’d ever settle this low.”
“Sunarin, are ya calling me ugly?” Atsumu inquires.
“I’m calling him boring. But good reminder Atsumu, you’re ugly.”
“Wait, just me?”
Suna shrugs it off “Yeah, but Osamu being hot is a waste.”
Oh?
He buries the thought, opting to ignore Suna’s comments about his appearance had become more of a habit than he could've foreseen. Without paying mind to Atsumu's protest, he moves along. “Can we walk faster? If the place closes I'll make y'all cook me ramen.”
The school’s annual trip finally arrives, promising each student a memory filled weekend, with a mix between studies and fun, and his friends always made it bend more towards the fun side, especially since this year was the last time Aran, Shinsuke and Michinari could go.
Leaving all his belongings close to the door the night before, Osamu wanted to ensure nothing would go wrong. And since Atsumu was just as excited, they made their way to the school walking faster than usual, sat at the gym with all the other students and waited for further instructions.
It’s when a professor signals they’ll be going on the buses in 10 minutes that Osamu's phone pings repeatedly.
06:50 Sunarin: come to class rn
06:50 Sunarin: it’s an emergency
06:52 Sunarin: pls
06:52 Sunarin is typing…
And for all Suna is confusing and annoying, Osamu sees something genuine in his words, so he tells his brother he’ll be back soon and leaves everything behind, running through the hallways to make sure they won’t miss the bus, he's mind tries to conjure a scenario Suna would need him.
He's silent when opening the door to their class. Everything looked the same as usual, the only figure standing out was Suna rapidly tapping one of his legs, as his hands kept busy playing with the shell of his phone. Osamu sighed in relief, at least he wasn't in danger.
“Sunarin? What’s going on?” He says, crossing the threshold.
“No!” Suna shouts faster than Osamu can process. The door closes behind him.
“What’s happening?”
“Fucking hell, we’re locked in now. Don’t you know how to read?” Suna stands up abruptly and kicks a chair.
“Read what? Ya said emergency, I ran.”
He groans, frustrated “Whatever. Text Atsumu to come here already. My phone's dead”
Osamu searches his pants “I left it with the rest of my stuff…”
“Great. We’re locked here. Thanks Osamu”
“Excuse me? This ain’t nobody’s fault.”
“If you read my texts, you’d know.”
Osamu can feel something ugly starting to warm up his body.
“Stop being childish. Let’s find a way out.” He starts to inspect the room.
“Woah, you're so fucking smart. How haven't I thought of that?”
“Shut up. Was I the only person you texted?”
“Uhum.”
‘Why?’ pervades Osamu's mind, but he only sighs. “I think I can break the door.”
“Of course you can break the door” Suna’s words are bitter.
“Buy y’know, maybe —“
“The professor already took attendance Osamu, they won’t come looking.” Suna looked at the class’ clock “The buses are leaving in two minutes. Get on with it.”
Osamu has never actually needed to break a door before, only knows a few tips he’s seen on youtube videos during a sleepless night. So, trying his best to remember, he adjusts himself, lining up to the door. Third time’s the charm, he hears its hinges coming loose and, from the hallway, stares at Suna.
“C’mon” Osamu waves at him and starts running to the gym. School’s stuff is always delayed by a couple minutes. Almost tripping down the stairs, he doesn’t stop to catch his breath, only to make sure Suna’s behind him.
But, their efforts are in vain. It’s empty. Even their stuff went without them.
“You know this is all your fault, right?” Suna’s shout echos.
“Are ya sayin’ this to piss me off? It ain't funny.” Suna’s genuine anger upsets him even more.
“You're so fucking dense it makes no sense half this school's into you.”
“Me? Dense?” Osamu exasperated “Then why the hell did ya even text me?”
“‘Cause I thought you weren’t dumb enough to mess it up.”
“Just say what ya mean already. Or was it all on purpose?”
Suna has to process Osamu’s words before replying. “Oh yeah. Caught me. I fucking locked myself just to have you rescue me. Better, I sabotaged my fucking trip just so I could ruin yours too.”
“Wouldn’t put it past ya.” Osamu shrugs.
Suna huffs and leaves the gym.
“Where the hell are ya going?” Osamu shouts, immediately following him.
“Home” Suna said as he tried to open the main entrance doors, none budging.
Osamu’s fight to diminish his anger becomes even more of a challenge when Suna, aware or not, knows exactly which buttons to push. Before he gets further away, Osamu reaches for his arm, and ends up holding his wrist. The grip is tight, any attempt on freeing himself is fruitless. “We’re not done talkin’”
“Talk then.”
“Stop being such a fuckin’ asshole. It's pointless to blame ya, but this trip was important as hell fer me.”
“I know.”
“Why were ya in the classroom?”
Suna seems to ponder his options, once resolute, he eyes his constrained wrist and Osamu takes the hint to let go of it. Searching through the small backpack that hasn’t left his side, Suna hands a silver flask to Osamu. Of course he smells vodka when opening it.
“I lost my trip ‘cus ya wanted to get drunk?”
Suna shrugs. “Still not angry?”
“Oh, I’m pissed as hell. But stupid reason or not, it was an accident. No use crying over it.” After Suna hums in agreement, Osamu continues “Let’s get out of here.”
“You’ll need to break us out then, hotshot.”
“I'm serious Sunarin.”
“So am I.”
Their search is never ending, covering each centimeter of the school, from the first to last floor, still no door budged in the slightest. They were now in their last attempt, one last door that connected them to the outside, and when Osamu twists the knob, it opens. The rooftop.
“Nah, this is great. We either kill ourselves or get fucked up and sue the school.” Suna stretches his body, the breeze is exactly what they needed after being stuck inside.
“So ya'll do the honors?”
He walks close to the edge, dangling a bit to examine it. “Strongest first.”
“Yeah sure.” Osamu snorts, jerking a thumb to his left. “The sea's that way. Can ya see it?”
“A tad. I'm not a beach kinda guy.” Suna gives up, sitting on the floor. “So those bigass arms are useless?”
Osamu sits beside him, back to the wall. “Pretty much. Our classroom’s door isn’t that heavy. The others will just bruise my shoulder. Bad.”
His words cause Suna to look at it, but his eyes slowly lower until he’s absent mindedly watching Osamu’s arms, occasionally alternating with observing his own. Feeling like an exotic animal on display, Osamu tries to stay as still as he can, but it’s not enough, a slight movement was enough to break the spell. Suna’s eyes are as twisted as storms.
Suna exhales resolutely, then inclines the flask in Osamu's direction “Want some?”
It was a saturday morning and he was stuck in school with Suna. It's hard to tell what he does with more conviction, grabbing it or taking a greedy swig. The burn is familiar.
The wind is all they hear while passing the flask back and forth. It's some time after they finish both flasks he carried, one for each day he claims that Suna whines “Argh. Can't believe I’m stuck here with you.”
“Can't believe I lost my friends’ last trip.”
Suna's staring ahead. “Yeah. Sucks to suck”
Osamu chuckles “Shut up.”
“Are you telling me to quit bugging you? Are you?” Suna tilts his head to the side, arching his eyebrows.
“Do whatever you want Sunarin’.”
Suna scoffs “Booooring. God Osamu and you don’t like it when I call you that.”
Osamu readjusts himself so that he’s facing Suna “Alright! Fine! Say I’m curious, tell me why ya bother me.”
“But are you?”
“Let’s say I am”
“But are you?”
Osamu can feel his trigger finger twitching. “Fucking hell. Yeah, I guess”
“No guess–”
“Fer the love of god.” Osamu says and Suna starts laughing.
“You tell anyone and… you're dead meat.” Suna’s attempt at seriousness wasn’t disguising that he was an enthusiastic drunk.
Osamu grabbed his hand, sticking out his pinky finger and interlacing it with his own. His voice is quiet when he says “I promise.”
Maybe he's his own kind of drunk too.
“Fuck. Okay” Suna shakes it off like he's entering a rink. ”I'm only saying anything because it's you.” The two of them, alone in a gigantic building, the sky as ceiling. Nothing could be a disturbance, yet his voice is low as a whisper “...you have everything.”
Scooching a little closer to Suna, Osamu whispers back “I do?” Not yet able to process the meaning of Suna's words. What about him made Suna feel that way?
He groans. “You have everything a guy would want and all you do sit there all high and mighty like it's beneath you like you scorn it and there's people that would kill for it and you just won't man up to get it and I don't know why you don't I just know the reason's gotta be hella stupid.”
“What? What are ya talkin’ ‘bout? I'm just an average guy, Sunarin.” Osamu's taken aback.
“But you're not.”
“I don't know what to tell ya. I'm not that guy”
Suna sneers. “Fuck you. You're so fucking afraid of being yourself and going after what you want. And look, you don't give a shit about shit? Me neither. But there's stuff to care about.” Osamu’s confused until their eyes meet again. “You’re scared? Get over it. Everyone’s fucking scared. We still do what we have to do.”
How could Suna spot something like that? Was it evident? Did everyone know that’s how Osamu felt? Damn, is that how Osamu felt?
Osamu sins of gluttony. Hunger is all that surrounds him, he wants and wants and wants. But just like any man, he’s paralyzed by his desire, terribly scared of not getting what he craves, terribly scared of it existing somewhere he can’t reach.
His motor force simultaneously drains his fuel.
Still, in his own hidden way Osamu lets it slip that he desires it anyway. Be it by his brother’s abilities to poke through him, be it by all the songs he has written on a notebook he had locked away under his bed.
Limiting himself in regards to what he craved was something he had always done. Only knowing this isn’t the standard because his brother was never scared of going after what he wants.
Now, with a twist of something Osamu can’t recognize, Suna berates him for it. A shovel on his right hand, he uncovers the feelings Osamu maintains hidden.
This should be a sign. Osamu should voice what he wants.
So, what does he want?
He stands up, Suna has a puzzled look in his eyes that only gets more confused as Osamu starts to run.
He doesn’t remember exactly where it is, so he goes through all the floors, this time he doesn’t have to check if Suna’s following, he can hear his complaints as light as day.
The crowded hallways now feel like a secret passageway only they know. Each door is magical, with the ability to take them to another universe. It’s so quiet. Osamu loves the quiet. He’s coming to appreciate quiet with Suna around, just being around each other. Their wordless agreement.
Spotting the red door makes him run faster, it also makes Suna’s complaints triplicate. They’re both heaving when they get to the music room.
“What is… your… problem…” Suna says, letting his body go limp on the floor. “Fuck… I’m beat.”
Osamu lets out a hearty laugh. “Sorry. Ya said… I was scared… and that just got me thinkin’.”
“That's how you think? I see why you're strong now.”
“Hey.”
Suna quickly puts the tip of his tongue out.
“Listen, okay? Ya keep babbling —”
“Babbling?” He taunted.
“Manner of speakin’ Sunarin… See, ya said all that. There is somethin’ I wanna show ya.”
“And what is that?” Suna sits up to observe Osamu.
“I wanna make music” He opens his arms, presenting the classroom like he built it himself.
Suna instantly starts looking to his sides, then searching his bag “Damnit. They took it on the bus.”
“They took what?”
“What I wrote on your papers. Bass tabs.”
Osamu has a boyish smile when replying “Ya play? That’s cool. I’m a drummer”
“Bet you’re great at it too”
“Hey – Is this how ya suck up to someone ya want to keep yer secret?”
“Uhum. Is it working?”
Osamu sighs “Only ‘cus yer annoying way is rubbin’ onto me.”
“Already scared of how similar we are?”
“Us? Similar? So what yer saying is –”
“Except… Stop talking, except for how boring you can be.” Suna says, before quickly changing the subject “So why are we here?”
“I'm letting ya off the hook this time.” Osamu narrows his eyes at Suna, only to be overtaken by a low energy excitement. “Because all I really want is to make music, Sunarin’. No hidin’ no nothing. My soul bare and all the blah-blah-blah. I don't care what happens to me, I just hope I get to make music fer as long as possible.”
“Play me something then. Let's see if you're any good.”
Osamu nods, making his way to the booth. It'd been a moment since he played, and he hated playing without his sticks. Still it flowed like second nature, this had always been his favorite way of expressing his feelings, only tying with songwriting. A connection he couldn't put into words, he played the same song he and Atsumu know by heart.
Sweat is prickling down his face, he ought to run back to the rooftop. But he can't deviate from they eyes watching him.
“We should be in a band.” Suna stated.
“What? Yer being for real?
“Are you chickening out? You just said this is your dream.”
“If yer messing with me yer just being cruel”
“Osamu, I'm being for real.” He sticks out his pinky
“Y'know what, fuck it. Alright. Let’s do it. Let’s be in a band.”
“No, no, no. Ya gotta walk me through it. First ya tire my ear off babbling about how irritating Sunarin is. Then, ya magically started speaking to him more often, only for ya to get locked in school and now he’s comin’ over, like ya actually invited someone to hang out one on one?”
Osamu's eyes are glued tight to the TV, watching his character chop meat. “Can't ya hear the beeping, yer pasta is done dumbass. Now stop distracting me, we're almost at three stars.”
“I just think it's funny” Atsumu’s voice has the annoying tone Osamu hates “yer all over a straight boy.
“No way in hell. It's got nothin’ to do with that. Sunarin and I are… doesn’t matter. We get along nice.” When Atsumu doesn't reply, Osamu lets it slip. “If anything, he’s kinda flirty with me.” His eyes stay glued to the recipes he's supposed to follow.
“He's probably just messin’ with ya.” Atsumu offers.
“He ain't like that."
“Well, ya know him better than I do.”
Osamu raises an eyebrow “Me?”
Atsumu snorts, then he pauses the game to face Osamu “Yer jokin’, right? No? Bet, startin’ easy, what's his favorite color?”
“Black”
“Drink.”
“Vodka probably. Though he really likes peach juice.”
Atsumu rolls his eyes. “Food.”
“Jelly sticks. But he did say the omurice I made him was the best food he'd ever had” Osamu's contemplating
“Ya cooked for him?! I’ve been asking ya to make me somethin’ fer years. Ya don't even cook fer Aran.”
“What the hell are ya on? I cook fer y'all all the time.”
“Maybe when it's all of us together and yer bored, or when ya want somethin’. Did ya want somethin’ from him?” Atsumu's eyes are suggestive.
“Like hell I did. I ate it too.”
“Like that ever stopped ya. Shit, ya really got a crush on him.”
“Will ya ever stop talking crap?”
“Deny it all ya want.” Atsumu extends his legs on the coffee table. “That's the only way it makes sense. Yer smitten.”
“Hell will freeze over.”
Atsumu groans.”It's always the same damn act.”
“Bite me.” Osamu snatches Atsumu's controller to unpause the game just in time for the doorbell to ring.
“‘Samu, yer boyfriend’s here.” Atsumu shouts loud enough for Suna to hear. Osamu wants to strangle him.
“Comin’.” He says while quickly scoping the house to make sure it’s presentable. Laying some books and other clutter around to ensure Suna won’t think he organized it especially for him. “What?” Osamu turns to his brother when he hears him snickering.
“Nothin’, nothin’. Open the door already won’t ya?”
He lets it go in favor of letting Suna in. The first thing he does is extend his arm for Osamu to grab the plastic bag. “Everything’s in there.”
“Bet. I’ll give ya the money later.”
Suna shrugs it off. “Don’t bother. You not looking like your brother is payment enough.”
“Ya two are insufferable.” Atsumu comments from the couch “What are ya doin’ anyway?”
“None of yer business.” Osamu says, tilting his head in the bathroom’s direction. As Osamu locks the door he says “Thank’s fer helpin’ me with this.”
“Well, I was the one who put the idea on your head. Hopefully you’ll get a chemical cut and all your hair will fall out.”
“Scared of me lookin’ good?” Osamu teases.
Suna scoffs while sorting the products from the bag. “Yeah, like I’d give a shit about that” He asks “You've never done this before right?” When Osamu shakes his head, he continues “First bleach. When it’s light enough we put the color, that’s the easy part. Did you figure out which color you want? I bought both.”
“Nah. Whadda ya think?”
Suna analyzes both bottles. “Blue’s a classic. Especially the shade I got you. It’ll look good. But there’s something about the gray, I don’t know...” He thinks on it for a minute “Osamu do you trust me?”
“Yes.” Osamu replies instinctively. Idiot.
His reward is Suna’s small smile “It’s gonna be hella good.”
“Hella?”
“It’s a thing from my city. Shut up.”
They have it settled on finishing it in a day, but it’s a much lengthier process than Osamu expected. Other than Suna’s explanation about each step, they had to keep themselves entertained. It started by watching Suna’s favorite youtube videos, which lead them to talking about music, so of course they started exchanging songs, and now Osamu has a playlist on his phone named after Rintaro. The sun’s already set when they finally wash the excess dye off.
“See. I was right. Your hair is…”
They finish blowdrying it, and it appears Suna mixed both dyes, the color was something he’s only ever seen on… “Like the sea?”
“It was gonna say hot. But that too.”
Osamu’s smile is sincere. “Thanks for the help. Ya hungry? I’ll whip somethin’ out for us.”
“Oh, yeah. And make sure you remember what I said ‘cus pretty soon you’ll need to retouch it.”
Truthfully, Osamu had only paid half a mind to it. “Already done with me?”
“For sure. It takes too long and you're annoying.” But his words hold no weight.
“Yeah, yeah. Sure Sunarin’.”
“‘Samu, what the fuck?! Ya died yer hair?!” Atsumu says as they reach the kitchen. “I – I'm… speechless.”
“Then stop talking” Suna says and Osamu turns to him to laugh.
“Like it?” Osamu asks.
“No I didn’t.”
“Atsumu, we can see you pouting.”
“I can’t believe ya dyed yer hair. And what color is that, gray? God ya have such bad taste. If it were me…” Atsumu’s pout only grows. “Does ma know?”
“Yeah she said it was alright.”
“So that’s what y’all were doin’ in the bathroom all day…”
Osamu sighs. “Take yer mind out of the gutter.”
“Well when it comes to ya.” Atsumu rolls his eyes.
“Say, Atsumu. We still have some stuff leftover. Wanna do yours?” Both twins turn to Suna as he voices the offer.
Atsumu’s eyebrows knit. “Yer offering me stuff? Whadda ya want?”
“For you to stop talking. Come on.” Suna makes his way back to the bathroom, before Osamu decides where to go, he adds “You better have the food done. This won’t take long.”
And Suna was right, because after the bleach Atsumu was already in love with his look.
“We have dye y’know?”
“Nah… they don’t match me.” Atsumu replies while staring at his new hair in the mirror. “Plus I like being blond.”
After skipping a fence and guessing their way through the dark Suna finally spots the abandoned train, wordlessly making his way to it while holding that damn bag which he wouldn’t tell Osamu what it carried, the annoyingly vague reply of “A celebration” was all he was made aware of. They didn't talk much, Osamu's kicking of pebbles was the only sound for what seemed like kilometers.
The sky was so dark, the stars so bright and in the end it all felt unreal, like the dumb escapades he only ever saw in those coming of age movies ma and ‘Tsumu loved. He's a fool if he's enjoying this. As the darkness and silence surrounded them, it seemed like a slight misstep would be enough to invite someone to their location. But what he isn't sure is why he has this bad feeling in his gut when he thinks of someone else with them. Maybe it's because he lacked the mental preparation for it, since his invite were pebbles hitting his window at two in the morning and Suna texting him it was an emergency. Emergency his ass. Still he climbed out the window and thanked the heavens he and Atsumu don’t share a room anymore, his ma would ground him and this is too big of a bargaining chip for his brother to take hold off.
He wants to say getting in trouble for Suna was not worth it. Still, he threads forward jumping on the wagon right after him. Osamu sits with his back against the wall – something Suna would benefit from to help his back, instead he does so with his legs crossed near Osamu.
“Tcharam” — Suna murmurs in a tone that would be considered enthusiastic for him, and quite fitting to their surroundings, as he unveils his big surprise: alcohol and a half empty pack of cigarettes. Osamu remained unfazed.
“Are ya serious Rin’? And here I was thinking ya had an actual nice surprise” He narrows his eyes “I thought ya had forgotten it by now, but yer the one who insisted on this band shit, if yer not gonna be serious ‘bout it -”
“You don’t have to worry about that Osamu”
After opening the vodka he bought them, Suna makes his way to Osamu, who couldn’t do more than track his movements with his eyes, specially when he kneels in front of him, slots his knee in between, and even though Suna’s only a bit taller than Osamu, he never felt this small. Before he has time to get used to their position, he feels Suna’s hand, it is cold as it makes its way on each side of Osamu's cheeks. When he finally presses on them, it’s embarrassing how easy he lets his mouth go slack for Suna to pour a hefty amount of the drink.
And he knows Atsumu’s gonna be pissed and his ma can never find out, forget grounded, she'll just kill him. But when he thinks of his current situation, there really isn’t much else he’d rather be doing. Which is odd, it’s hard to tell, but for some reason Osamu actually wants to hear what he has to say.
After a couple seconds Suna stopped and when Osamu finally fixed his gaze he was sitting a little further.
“You're such a good boy”
He says teasingly but it gets Osamu slightly annoyed.
“So this is the emergency? Ya need a drinkin’ buddy?”
“Could be” Suna replies while lighting a cigarette “My current one keeps ditching me. But nevermind that, did you bring what I asked for?”
Instead of replying, Osamu opens his backpack and takes out a notebook “Be careful with ‘em. ‘t’s the only copy”
Suna makes a move to get it, only for Osamu to snatch it away “Not with that in your hands. What if ya burn it?” He allows himself to show his exasperation.
If Suna’s annoyed with his carefulness, he doesn’t let it show, instead he silently switches the cigarette for the notebook. So, while Suna goes through the written songs, Osamu distracts himself by taking a tentative puff, he already had alcohol, might as well go for the whole combo.
As he inhales it, Osamu comes to a realization: it tastes like Suna.
Which is weird because he doesn’t know what Suna tastes like.
It was his voice that took Osamu out of his trance. “Man, all of these are so good. You really are the real deal, hun, Osamu?”
Suna takes his cigarette back before he adds “Which one of these do you think should be our first?” He holds it in his mouth while pointing at a page. “I think this one’s perfect” then he takes a long drag.
Osamu inspects the page, rereads the lyrics, and even though it’s unfinished it’s a great song to start it all out. Their nameless band, their nameless song, their nameless bandmates, though he already has some people in mind for the last one.
“I agree with ya”
They go through the songs again, planning out which of them matches the vibe of their band, and Osamu has to pretend he isn’t laying his soul bare. He has more of the drink, finds out Suna bought them a fancy vodka, only cheaping out on the cigarettes, which he finds himself quite fond of. He’s also taught a couple of card games, ‘Tsumu’s gonna like those.
A little before sunrise he reluctantly has to go home, his mother should be waking up for work very soon, shit, he’s supposed to be waking up for school even sooner. Suna walks him so they can talk more about the band stuff, the walk is shorter than he remembered it being.
Making no noise on his way to his bedroom, an outrageous Atsumu is still the first thing he sees when finally enters it.
“‘Samu ya stink. Where the hell were ya?” He whisper’s scream, then starts laughing as he adds “Ma’s gonna be so pissed”.
And Osamu thanks whatever higher entity is out there, because now he doesn’t have to feed his brother’s big ego, now it’s only a trade.
“‘Tsumu, ya wanna be in a band?”