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Daichi hitches his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. He should have asked his parents to pick him up from the station after all. When he talked to them about coming home for winter break, he thought the walk would help him get over the sense of disorientation that he feels when he drastically changes locations. But now that he's here, the cold is seeping into his bones and the exhaustion from the last sprint of finals is wearing on him. His eyes are heavy, his mind hazy from the nap he took on the train.

He doesn't notice that someone's fallen into step beside him until a familiar voice says his name.

Before he can shy away, Suga claps a hand on his shoulder and pitches forward with laughter. Daichi stumbles until he regains his balance, pushing both of them upright. "Your face," Suga gasps. "How did I surprise you, Daichi, I've been following you for two blocks!"

"You could have said something!" he huffs. "I think you just took a year off of my life."

"What happened to your observation skills, captain?" Suga says, still chuckling. The sound of his old title—captain—floods him with nostalgia.

Suddenly wordless, he resorts to bumping Suga's shoulder with his own, their winter jackets rustling in the evening silence. When he glances over Suga's beauty mark is crinkled with his broad grin.

"Welcome home," Daichi tells him.

The merriment in Suga's eyes shifts to something fonder. "I told you'd I'd come back," he says. An answering smile sketches itself across Daichi's mouth.


Daichi blinks down at his folded hands and murmurs, "College in Tokyo, huh."

"I've thought about this for a long time," Suga says in a rush. "Since last year—after Dateko. I don't want to stop...I want to keep playing, I want to keep improving myself. I think this is the best way." He fidgets, his lips pressed into a nervous line. "...I really want to do this."

Daichi tilts his head to look up at the stars, listening. Suga pauses to glance at him. Whatever he reads in Daichi's face eases the tension in his spine. When he speaks again, his voice is calmer.

"I know it's a surprise." His thumbs lift and recross over his folded hands. "I'm sorry. I know I should have said something sooner. I thought about it when you talked about going to the prefectural university, but...I wanted to be sure." His voice trembles, then fades off.

There's a beat of silence. Daichi takes a deep breath. Then he says, "So that's why you kept leaving practices early. I was worried that you'd found a girlfriend or something."

"What? No, of course not!"

Daichi laughs at his scandalized expression. "I'm kidding. It doesn't matter where you go, anyway. I said I'd always have your back, and I meant it." He smiles. "I'm happy for you, Suga."

He expects some kind of response after that, but none comes. After a pause Daichi shifts, leaning back and looking Suga in the eye. "Is something else bothering you?"

Suga looks flushed, but in the dark Daichi can't be sure. His gaze finds Daichi's and then cuts away. When he looks back again, he's smiling.

"No," he murmurs. "It's nothing."


The sky is tinted pink when Daichi wakes up, a sign that it's going to snow later. The weather warning is echoed by the TV when he wanders downstairs. His mother always leaves the TV on when she rushes to work. Daichi still isn't sure whether it's a bad habit or an attempt to make the house seem more cheery in her absence.

His father isn't home either, so he shuffles together an approximation of breakfast, offering thanks under his breath before he digs into the leftovers. It's a feast after weeks of convenience store food. His chopsticks clack against the porcelain bowl, arrhythmic against the newscaster's crisp Tokyo accent.

After eating he's tempted to go back to sleep, but he's already being lazy by foregoing his morning run. He should make the most of his vacation. Sunlight will help wake him up anyway.

As he steps outside and locks the door behind him, his free hand flips his phone out of his pocket. Suga's number is familiar under his fingertips as he punches it in; he doesn't remember the last time he searched through his contacts for it. He smiles at Suga's drowsy Hello?

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he says, his breath pluming in the winter air.


The weather's warm again as spring approaches, but it's still chilly inside the storage room. Daichi zips up his jacket, listening to Suga reorganize the other side of the area. The second-years chatter outside as they pick up their things and return to the club room, but in here the silence is pervasive. Daichi tries to think of something to break it.

Finally he turns. "It's—"

"Do you—"

"Oh," Suga murmurs just as Daichi says, "Sorry."

They stare at each other for a moment before Suga laughs. "It's weird, isn't it?"

Daichi smiles back. "Yeah," he says. "It's weird."

"Even if we come back here, it won't be the same." Suga walks to Daichi's side of the room, kneeling beside him to tidy the equipment there. Daichi stares at the crown of his head, at how the dim light from the doorway catches on his silver hair. "Some things won't change, though. We'll still play volleyball. We'll still be friends."

Daichi smiles. "It'd take more than going away to college to change that."

"You better train hard." Suga glances up with a playful glint in his eye. "I want to play your team someday."

Daichi thinks of playing without Suga on his side of the court and blinks with vertigo.

Suga's smile thins and his eyes flick away. "You'll keep playing, right? I don't want to play without you."

"I already promised you that I would, didn't I?"

Suga says nothing, just leans against Daichi's calf with a soft sigh. The knot in Daichi's throat eases.


Suga frowns. "You look tired. You should take better care of yourself, Daichi."

"You aren't any better," Daichi replies, eyes narrowing in concern. The sunlight illuminates small changes that were obscured last night. Suga is slightly taller, and there are dark smudges under his eyes that match Daichi's. His face seems careworn, a little older.

"Don't change the topic." Suga smacks Daichi's arm with the back of his hand. Daichi flinches, more surprised than in pain, and a second later starts to laugh.

"Daichi?" Suga peers at him. "What is it?"

He rubs his arm, grinning. "It's nothing, really. I just missed you."

Suga's expression shifts.


Daichi watches Suga's eyelashes flutter as he blinks. "Oh, I..." He shakes his head. When he looks up again his smile makes Daichi catch his breath. "I missed you too, Daichi." His voice drops to a murmur. "I really missed you."

He's startled by the intensity in Suga's voice. Something tells him to reach for Suga's shoulder, so he does.

"C'mere," he says, and pulls him into a hug.

Suga catches handfuls of Daichi's down jacket and the added weight drags on his collar, pulling it lightly against his throat. He settles his arms around Suga's waist, feeling him breathe a warm spot into the scarf around his neck, and looks up at the snowy sky.


Suga sends Daichi photos throughout their first semester of college. In snapshots and glimpses, Daichi sees the layout of Suga's dorm room, the titles of the textbooks stacked on his desk, the small restaurant he gets katsudon from before exams, and the volleyball court where Suga practices with his new team. Their team colors are blue, white, and yellow, and their practices last until late at night.

Suga rarely sends photos of himself, but when he does he's smiling. Daichi always ends up smiling back at his phone.

The photos come without commentary. When Suga does say something it's energetic but to the point, never more than a sentence or two. He's not first string, but it's a big team and he's only a first year. Practices are hard and make him appreciate old coach Ukai's regimens. He studies with his classmates now and then. His roommate's nice, but Suga spends most of his time in the library. Sendai's weather report said rain, sent with a photo of an open umbrella. Don't be late to class. Or, with a photo of the view outside his window: Morning practice.

Daichi calls him a few times, but it's awkward. The distance between them feels tangible. Suga keeps falling silent, hesitating when he talks. He's not distracted, he says, just tired. "Go to sleep then," Daichi tells him, smiling when Suga murmurs Good night.

Daichi experiences new things too: teachers who challenge him to broaden his way of thinking and a burgeoning caffeine addiction. A college volleyball team of his own—it's much smaller than Suga's, which Daichi prefers. But he often comes home to help his mother with housework, to bully Asahi, or to see how Ennoshita's doing. He tells Suga about his trips home and Suga responds with emojis, asks him to say hi to Karasuno or Daichi's parents for him, but doesn't say much else. Eventually Daichi gets the hint and stops talking about it. When he stops by the Sugawaras to say hello it seems like Suga calls his mother every week, so maybe he's just tired of double updates.

Suga's last message says Coming home along with a photo of the train timetable from Tokyo.

See you soon, Daichi replies.


"Of course he can come over," Daichi's mother says over the phone line. "He always comes over on Fridays, doesn't he?"

When the two of them arrive at his house, Suga stops to line his shoes up beside Daichi's before stepping forward to accept her hug. "Daichi's father is home too," she tells him. "He'll be happy to see you!"

Suga's knee bumps Daichi's beneath the small dinner table, a familiar habit. He watches Suga flip his chopsticks to take tofu from the serving dish and place it on his plate, then back to their normal orientation to lift a piece of miso eggplant to his mouth. He pauses for a moment, chewing, before his eyes squinch shut with pleasure.

"Daichi, you're not eating," Suga says, gesturing with his chopsticks and jolting Daichi out of his daze. "It's good. Eat."

"My mom's right there," Daichi says, belatedly digging into his own bowl. "You don't have to look after me too." His mother laughs.

His parents pepper Suga with questions of what it's like to be living alone in a big city. He tells them stories Daichi's only heard snippets of—getting lost the first time he tried to go to the convenience store, seminar classes with 300 students in the same auditorium, the cat he always feeds on his way home from practice at eleven at night.

"It sounds like you're having a lot of fun," Daichi's father says.

"Yes," Suga replies. Daichi looks at him sharply, but Suga's looking down, already popping more food into his mouth. "I'm learning a lot," he says after chewing and swallowing, and the odd strain in his voice has vanished.

After dinner, Daichi and his father sweep the floor and wipe the table, and Suga washes plates and passes them to Daichi's mother to dry. "It's really coming down now," she says, watching the snow pelt the window. "Koushi-kun, why don't you stay over?"

Suga's hands hesitate, submerged in soapy water. "Would that be all right?"

"Stay over," Daichi says.

"Just tell your parents first," his father adds. Suga ducks his head and says thank you at least three times before Daichi herds him upstairs.

Daichi sets up the spare futon for Suga on the floor of his room, and they stay up late playing video games and talking. Suga's just like Daichi remembered, bright and quick-tongued, laughing as Daichi's side of the screen turns to stone for the fourth time.

"Take your game back," Daichi says, flopping onto the floor with disgust.

Suga leans over him, laughing. "I left it here so you could practice! Try harder, Daichi. Come on, one more round."

"You know I'm bad at puzzle games," Daichi grumbles. "I think you just like beating me."

Suga turns huge eyes on him. "Daichi," he says solemnly, "that would be mean."

The second the new round starts, Daichi reaches over and smashes buttons on Suga's controller until bubbles fill up his side of the screen and he loses first. Suga smacks him with a pillow until Daichi grabs the comforter off of his bed and turtles inside of it, laughing.


Daichi isn't stupid. He knows what it means when he can't stop staring at Suga in their second year, when hearing his laugh makes a nervous feeling fizz inside his stomach, when pulling away from him as the team huddle breaks up leaves him feeling weirdly bereft.

He takes some time to think about it and decides it was inevitable. Once he accepts the fact that yes, he definitely has a crush on Suga—he's hesitant to call it anything more than that—the next question is what to do about it.

Being on the same sports team means they're used to being in physical contact. So he pushes the envelope a little, just to see what will happen: walking so close to Suga on the way home that their backs of their hands brush, leaning on his back to peer at his answers to last night's homework.

Suga doesn't notice.

He doesn't react at all. He doesn't move away from Daichi or give him looks; when Daichi leans on him he just shifts forward to accommodate his weight and grumbles, "If you wanted to see it, you could have just asked." He doesn't reciprocate, either. Daichi's fine with that, but it also doesn't give him any clues as to what Suga might be thinking.

Eventually, he asks as they're walking to afternoon practice: "Suga, what do you think about me?"

Suga blinks at him, since it came out of nowhere. Then he says, "I think you're amazing, Daichi. You work really hard, and—"

Daichi waves a hand, feeling his face starting to heat. "No, no. I wasn't looking for compliments, you do enough of that already. I meant..." He coughs self-consciously. "Who am I to you? I guess."

Suga cocks his head, perplexed. "You're my best friend," he says. "And our team captain. Why?"

Oh, Daichi thinks. He feels like he should be crushed, or upset, or something. Instead he's grinning, though he doesn't understand why. "You're my best friend, too," he says.

Suga's expression clears. He starts to grin back but then blinks, remembering. "Ukai-san will get mad if we're late."

"Race you," Daichi says, taking off. A moment later he hears the pounding of Suga's footsteps behind him.


"Hey, Suga," Daichi says. The game's been on the pause menu for the past half-hour, its looping music faded to white noise. His parents went to bed hours ago. Snow still whirls outside the window, and white drifts have gathered on the windowsill. Between the silence of the house and the snow outside, his room is a warm, comfortable bubble. He feels relaxed, hands open in his lap as he leans against the bedframe.

Suga is lying on his stomach beside him. He blinks slowly, which Daichi knows means he's drowsier than he wants to admit. "Hmm?" he murmurs.

"What's up? You've been weird all day." Suga goes still. It's not a good sign. "Hey," Daichi says, and nudges him with his foot. "Talk to me."

The room is quiet enough that he can hear Suga's slow inhale. Then Suga shifts until he's sitting up and they're face-to-face. Daichi looks at him, letting Suga read the concern and sincerity in his expression.

Suga's lips press together, the little tell that he's steeling himself. "I don't want to complain," he starts. "Tokyo is amazing. I'm learning so much in my classes."

Daichi nods. Suga looks up to confirm his understanding before turning away. His brow furrows.

"College is...hard." He takes a deep breath and then lets it out, as if even that small admission was difficult. "Even though we visited Tokyo before, living there is a totally different experience. There's so much noise. There are so many people. It's...overwhelming." His gaze wanders up from the floor, settling on his hands, which are twisted together in his lap. "And college is so much faster than high school. I thought I had prepared enough, but I'm not..." he swallows. "I'm not doing as well in my courses as I thought I would be.

"But I still want to do this." Daichi recognizes the stubborn set of his mouth and relaxes; Suga's doing better than he first feared. "I like what I'm studying, and I've made some friends. I really like my team," Suga says, and Daichi feels a little weird about that, even though he understands. "But I can't get my footing. There's so much more I have to learn. I should be doing more."

Daichi waits, but Suga doesn't say anything else, instead glaring down at his balled fists.

"The first semester is the hardest," Daichi says after a pause. "Takeda-sensei told us that, remember?"

Suga nods. He doesn't look up, but the frustration in his expression dims into a listening stillness, like his whole body is attuned to Daichi's voice. The weight of that trust is familiar, its attending responsibility almost comforting.

Daichi sits up and reaches out for Suga's hands. As he speaks he works his fingers between Suga's, breaking his clenched fists apart. "From what you've told me, I can tell that you're doing your best. I can only imagine what it must be like to take on all those things at once. But the Suga I know wouldn't let anything stop him," he murmurs. "Even if it seems like you're overwhelmed, keep moving forward. Focus on overcoming each challenge one at a time until you reach your goals. It will get easier."

His fingertips move over the familiar territory of Suga's volleyball calluses. "I believe in you," he says. "Don't give up."

Suga stays quiet. Daichi keeps his gaze focused on their hands, giving him time to think.

"...You're right," Suga finally admits. His voice is quiet and a bit shaky, but it's from relief. Daichi takes it as a sign that he can straighten and meet Suga's eyes. He's not smiling, but there's a calmness in his gaze that's been missing since he came home the night before.

Daichi nods, relieved himself. "Why didn't you talk to me sooner?"

Suga's expression flickers, and Daichi's eyes narrow with speculation. "I'm sorry," he replies, looking away. He sighs as Daichi's fingers press into the meat of his palms, driving out the lingering resistance there. "I know I should have."

Daichi recognizes the same hesitation that he always heard in their phone conversations. "There's something you're not telling me."

Suga shakes his head. His voice carries the same strained tension it has during a match, when he's giving it his all, but isn't satisfied with the results. "Sorry," he says. "I don't know how to say it. Not...yet."

Daichi exhales. "Okay," he says, hearing it for the promise that it is.


Something taps behind him and Daichi's head jerks up. He turns and blinks when he sees the familiar shape perched on the branch outside his bedroom window.

"Suga," he says as he gets to his feet and slides the window open. "Is everything all right?"

The smile on Suga's face is answer enough. He ducks inside the room and steps onto the tatami floor with light, sure movements.

"I got in!" he bursts out. "Look." He shoves a piece of paper into Daichi's hands, beaming as Daichi unfolds it and skims over the lines.

When he looks up, the grin on his face matches Suga's. "I knew you could do it," he says, throwing an arm around Suga. "Congratulations!"

Suga laughs and bumps a loosely curled fist against Daichi's chest, returning the touch. It lingers for a moment, a gentle pressure against his sternum, before it drops back to Suga's side. "I couldn't wait to tell you. Sorry I dropped by without texting you first."

"It's fine," Daichi says. "Any time."

Suga bends down to pull off his shoes, then drops onto Daichi's bed with a bounce. "They sent me a huge packet with all kinds of paperwork and information." Daichi sits beside him. "I read it all, but...part of me still can't believe it."

He seems lit up from the inside with joy. Daichi leans forward so he can keep watching his face. "You're Karasuno's indomitable setter. Any school would be lucky to have you. Besides, you worked hard for it."

"Yeah. We really did," Suga says. The two of them had spent every night in Daichi's room in the weeks leading up to the entrance exam, studying until the small hours of the morning.

"My blanket still has ink stains," Daichi says. "I guess it's good luck now, since you got in." He won't tell him how much he likes it as an indelible memento.

Suga chuckles. "I wanted to thank you," he says. "I couldn't have done it without your help."

Daichi shrugs. "You took the exam. Besides, studying with you helped me just as much." He'd gotten his acceptance letter two weeks before.

There's a pause. Suga takes a deep breath and then blows it out. "I'm going to Tokyo."

"Like you wanted."

Suga nods, but the smile is fading from his face. "I'm going to Tokyo," he repeats.

Daichi raises an eyebrow. "If you're having second thoughts..."

"No, I'm not," Suga says, shaking his head. "I'm just starting to realize that it's...really happening."

An image pops into Daichi's head of Suga sitting on a strange bed and looking at a strange skyline, more than two hours away by bullet train. The thought leaves a hollow pressure against his diaphragm.

"Yeah," he says, but he can hear how strange his voice sounds. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yeah."

He's close enough to Suga that he can hear the faint sound as he swallows. Then pressure around his fingers makes him look down. Suga's hand is squeezing his.

Daichi blinks and his expression wobbles, his mouth pressing tight. He squeezes back.

Suga's breath hitches. He moves his head until his temple bumps against Daichi's shoulder. Daichi turns, surprised, and sees a touch of pink coloring the tip of Suga's ear. His eyes soften, and he lifts a hand to rest against Suga's hair, sifting the strands through his fingers.

"It's okay," Daichi says.

Suga only grips his hand harder, anchoring himself. "I'm glad we're friends." His voice sounds fragile, almost like he's lying, but that's not right. There's some new meaning there instead, something Daichi can't identify. "I'm really glad, Daichi."

"Me too," Daichi says. He feels like he should say more, but isn't sure how to respond. Suga seems satisfied, anyway.

After a pause, he shifts his hand from Suga's hair to wrap it around his shoulder. Suga leans closer with a sigh, tucking his legs up beside him on the bed.

Daichi settles on, "You'll be fine." Suga nods, eyes fixed on something beyond the window.


The next day, Suga leaves on vacation with his family.

Daichi's father travels often for work and his mother works long hours at the hospital, so having them both home for Christmas is a rare occurrence. They make the most of it, unwrapping presents and watching movies, laughing and enjoying each other's company. Daichi's phone buzzes throughout the day, but that's been happening since his first year of high school. His parents' voices are pleasant background noise as he pauses to tap Merry Christmas to you too! on his phone keyboard.

When Suga comes back on New Year's Eve, Daichi sends another text: Come over, we're having a bonfire. Suga shows up more relaxed than he was at the beginning of break, better rested, with his blue scarf pulled up over his cheeks and his mittened hands tucked into his pockets. He takes those off, though, once he gets within range of the bonfire. Daichi watches his cheeks flush red from the heat, then dimple as he grins.

Suga's parents meet them later at the shrine. The two families catch up while they all wait in line to ring the bell and pay their respects. Daichi tries talking to Suga about his plans for the coming semester, or what he thought of Kouhaku Uta Gassen this year, but his responses are terse and distracted. Nothing in his body language is hesitant, though: his shoulders are back and he looks straight ahead.

When they reach the front of the line, Daichi prays for good fortune for himself and his family in the coming year. Suga bows beside him, and Daichi wonders what he's wishing for.

"You young people should go enjoy yourselves," Suga's father says when they're done. "Shoo, shoo. Go look at the stalls."

Suga smiles at his parents and quietly takes the money his mother gives him. Then he looks directly at Daichi for the first time that evening, and a nervous feeling swoops in Daichi's gut. He doesn't resist when Suga reaches for his hand and pulls him away.

Instead of heading to the noisy stalls that line the shrine's main path, however, Suga leads him into a dark alleyway between two smaller buildings. He turns to Daichi, but doesn't let go of his hand. Daichi can feel the strength of his fingers through the mitten's soft fabric.


The temple's lanterns don't reach this forgotten corner. Daichi can barely make out Suga's expression. It's tense, downcast—the same look he's seen on his face countless times during matches or before presentations.

"Daichi," Suga says, and his voice is shaking. "Daichi, I. I like you."

A part of Daichi is surprised. But a part of him isn't surprised at all. Still, he doesn't want to assume. "I like you too," he says, and feels his heart rate pick up when Suga shakes his head.

"No, not like that. I mean..." Suga's exhale hisses out. His expression is frustrated, but determined.

Daichi could cut this short, but he wouldn't dream of robbing Suga of this, not after all of his obvious effort. Still, his own hand is starting to tremble where it's locked around Suga's. "What is it," he whispers, almost pleading.

Suga takes a deep breath. "I think about you all the time," he bursts out. "I—Daichi," he says, helplessly, his eyes wide, "I want to touch you—I want to touch you all the time."

Daichi realizes his mouth has fallen open and shuts it with a soft click of his teeth. He swallows, then looks down. He lifts Suga's hand, shaking as badly as his own, and pulls the mitten off. Then he leans down to press his cheek to Suga's exposed palm, hearing Suga's breath catch.

"So touch me," Daichi breathes. His own voice is hoarse, something inside of him feels like a dam breaking. "I'm right here."

He hears a soft, choked noise above him, and then he feels pressure on his jaw, pulling him upright. Suga's mouth bumps against the side of his own before the kiss slides into place, soft fabric against one cheek and warm fingers pressing against the other. Daichi locks his knees so they don't give out and tilts into the kiss, gathering Suga into his arms without thought.

He's dreamed of this for years—Suga tucked close and his lips softening against his own. He pulls Suga's lower lip into his mouth, thrilled by the knowledge that he's the one who's caused the whine in the back of Suga's throat. He opens his mouth and Suga follows his lead trustingly, like always.

Suga presses himself against Daichi with a sigh, a little clumsy but quick on the uptake. Daichi matches him kiss for kiss until Suga pulls away with a gasp.

"Daichi," he pants. His eyes are wide and dark, his expression a little dumbstruck. Daichi realizes that he must have run out of air, and affection blooms in his chest. Whatever Suga sees in Daichi's expression makes him go bright red, but he doesn't look away.

"I like you," Suga repeats, his words quiet but insistent.

Daichi stares at Suga's soft mouth and bright eyes, feeling stunned himself. "For how long?" he asks.

Suga doesn't answer at first, apparently catching his breath. "I don't know," he replies. "I just realized one day that every time I looked at you, it felt like my heart was turning over. But by the time I realized that, I had decided to go to college in Tokyo."

Daichi blinks as a hundred scenes from the past year flash through his head. "You didn't want to say anything because you were leaving?"

Suga nods. "I thought I was too late. People say that high school relationships don't last past your first year in college, anyway. I tried to forget about it, was worse without you," he whispers. "It was so much worse."

Daichi pulls him in for another kiss, just because he can. Suga returns it with an eagerness that makes warmth radiate down to his toes. "I've liked you since our second year," he says when they break apart. "I missed you every day."

"I'm sorry," Suga says, but Daichi shakes his head. He pulls him into a hug before he can see guilt cross Suga's face.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he says, surprised by how fierce his voice sounds. "It would have been fine if you never liked me back. I didn't expect you to."

"But I do," Suga says. "I do like you, Daichi. I want to do everything with you, not just—those kinds of things, but...I want to show you Tokyo. I think about you whenever a love song plays on the radio. Sometimes last year you'd fall asleep on me on the bus and I'd feel hot and cold all over; Daichi, I wanted to kiss you like this, I just—like you."

He tilts up for a kiss and Daichi gives it, feeling giddy. "I love you," Daichi blurts. He feels Suga go still against him and hurries on, "I love when you laugh so hard that you run out of air. And the way you call my name before you toss to me. I love all the photos you sent me. I think I love kissing you," he says, grinning as Suga bursts into giggles, "but I'm going to have to do it more to be sure."

"Daichi, stop," Suga whines, hitting Daichi's chest hard enough to make him wince.


Suga buries his red face against Daichi's shoulder with a mortified noise. Daichi chuckles, swaying them from side to side as if dancing to some private song. He can hear the sound of the crowd in the distance, a counterpoint to the warm silence that settles between them.

"I guess I'm going to have to get a part time job," Daichi says. "So I can come see you."

When Suga lifts his head, his eyes are wide with delight.


The trunk of the Sugawara family car closes with a soft thud. Daichi straightens up, dusting his hands off, and turns to see Suga waiting a few steps behind him.

"You sure that's everything?" Daichi asks.

"If I need anything else I can get it later."

Daichi nods, his hands in his pockets. He doesn't know how to do this. He's never had to say Goodbye to Suga instead of See you tomorrow.

Suga shifts his weight, leaning towards Daichi before he pulls back. His smile is forced-cheerful, a little sad. "I'll come back," he says.

An answering smile spreads across Daichi's face. "I'll be waiting."