Yotasuke is not sure what to say.
He’s not sure if the view that is drowning his pitch-black irises right now is indeed otherworldly or paradisiacal; or if it’s just because he just got out from a dark karaoke booth, or if it’s just because he’s never seen this view before. Before this day - the first time he ever hung out until the dawn in his life - Yotasuke has always been a homebody. A homebody who prefers the moonlight filtered through the glass windows in his room; rather than the neon lights of the city’s colorful billboards nor the bright sun.
Maybe that’s the reason for the loss of vocabulary in his head - also for his dilated pupils, slightly gaping lips, and slower steps - as his eyes swallow the sight of Shibuya at five-thirty in the morning; the heavenly sight of Shibuya in its blue hour, that he has never, ever seen before until today.
This Shibuya is apparently very calm, empty, and to Yotasuke’s surprise: beautiful. The zebra crosses that used to cater to thousands of people walking above it are now almost empty. The tall towers and black asphalts are now drenched underneath the blue lights that are peeking from squirming clouds, as it slowly turns yellow; since the first golden hour of the day is already coming. The blue light is pouring on top of the heads of people who pass through here and there; enveloping their hair strands in soft lights that make almost everyone radiate a similar calm, dark color.
“People said it’s called ‘blue hour’. An hour before the sun rises, or before the first golden hour. That’s why it’s just all blue - no shadows, no yellows.” Yatora explains as he passes a coffee can from the vending machine as they walk towards the station.
Yotasuke turns towards him - and sees the sight of smiling Yatora - lips curled up warmly, soft curves on his smiling eyes accompanying his yellow irises that are now with hints of blue.
“Beautiful, isn’t it, Yotasuke-kun?”
Early morning Shibuya radiates soft, beautiful blue.
And yet, Yatora radiates striking, ethereal gold.
Just like the sight of early morning Shibuya - now five-fifty in the morning - this is the first time Yotasuke saw this Yatora. This Yatora, who radiates the same heavenly glory as the blue hour sky, yet shines more and more as he walks through the crossings and pedestals; as if early morning is where he belongs. This Yatora, who somehow keeps getting brighter - as he pets the passing shiba inu when they almost reached the station with sparkling eyes, as he finishes his cigarette before stepping inside the station with a beaming smile, as he slams his body down to the heated seats of the trains and leans on the window with a satisfied exhale.
This Yatora, who is now closing his eyes as he leans on the train’s windows as the train departs - the waking golden hour sky is now painting his facial features and hair strands so beautifully as if he’s so loved by the gods up there - he is hypnotizing. As hypnotizing as the sight of early morning Shibuya, it got Yotasuke at a loss for words.
Completely at loss - that Yotasuke can only stare back at Yatora in silenced surprise when Yatora suddenly opens up his eyes and glances at him. The heat creeps up from his back to his face, along with the warmth of morning sun that is striking both of them from the windows.
Soaking in the blue and yellow hues, accompanied by the silent hum of the train’s machine that is barely keeping both of them awake - Yatora stares back at Yotasuke with a small smile.
“You just said the heated seats made you sleepy.” Yatora says as he taps his shoulder - his smile is still as bright as gold, each corner and angle of his face are perfectly painted by the faint shadows of the soft yellow lights. “Here. Geidai is still thirty minutes away, enough for a quick nap.”
Yotasuke blinks - and as his sight gets more and more clearer, he is now sure. Now, he is sure that the one that is ethereal, otherworldly, and paradisiacal is not just the view of blue Shibuya.
It’s the gold too.
“No.” answers Yotasuke quickly, as he replies Yatora’s pout with a small smile that he doesn’t even realize he’s making - his shining pair of dark eyes now looks like a world that has finally found its light,
“I don’t want to miss the view.”