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Giyuu likes mornings for the same reason he likes most things.
Don’t get him wrong, it’s not that he’s an early riser by any means. In fact, he tends to sleep in more often than not, and anyone who is around him at any time earlier than eight am is typically subjected to the unfortunate sight of a very groggy, very unkempt Giyuu attempting to navigate his way through being an adult with all the coherency of a newborn kitten who has yet to even open its eyes.
It’s just that mornings are generally the quietest time of day, when everyone is either fast asleep from the night before or going through their own start-of-the-day routines. There’s no better feeling than waking up to the warmth of the sun on your face after a full night’s rest, ready to start the day.
And—Giyuu’s not an adventurous person. He would be content to live a quiet life, to simply pass his days by going to classes, doing his work, visiting Urokodaki from time to time, and attending council meetings.
Sadly, Giyuu has not been blessed with the luck of living a quiet life.
Today, he wakes up to the smell of something burning.
He blinks up at his ceiling, eyes wide and open as sunlight streams in through his window. There’s a voice floating down from the other side of the apartment, loud enough to reach him in his room.
Something’s burning, his brain tells him. Burning, burning, burning…
Giyuu jumps out of bed. He’s stumbling out of his room in a hurry before he fully even opens his eyes, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process, and booking it down towards the kitchen.
When he emerges from the hallway, he catches sight of Sabito, face turned away from the smoking pan of whatever it is he was making as he argues vehemently on the phone with someone, making wild hand gestures in the air.
Idiot, Giyuu curses. “Sabito!” he calls, halfway across the living room. It really is a miracle that the fire alarm hasn’t gone off yet. “Sabito!”
Sabito visibly pauses, head of pink hair turning towards him as he lowers the phone slightly. “Huh?”
“The food, Sabito.” Giyuu grits his teeth. “It’s burning.”
His roommate blinks. Then, his eyes widen and he quickly turns back around, a slew of colorful curses leaving his lips as he scrambles to shut off the stove. Thankfully, nothing had caught on fire, so Giyuu sighs and starts to open the windows as Sabito cleans up his side of the kitchen, muttering under his breath.
“Shut the fuck up, Shinazugawa,” Sabito huffs as he presumably hangs up. There’s the soft noise of the pan colliding with the stovetop, followed by a sharp hiss of pain and a swear. “Shit.”
Giyuu whips around immediately, brow furrowing as he yanks the curtains open and hurries over to wear Sabito is flapping one hand around in the air furiously, face twisted up in a scowl.
“Did you burn yourself?” he asks worriedly, grabbing his hand and pulling it close to his face. Sure enough, the palm of his hand has a distinct reddish tinge, enough to look painful and abnormal. “Why did you touch it without a towel? You know the handle is metal, idiot.” As he chides, he yanks Sabito over to the sink, turning on the faucet and letting the water run over his hand. “Seriously, I can’t even sleep in for one morning without you nearly burning down our apartment.”
“It’s not my fault Shinazugawa’s an idiot,” Sabito protests indignantly. “Besides, it’s almost eight. You would’ve been normally getting up around this time anyway.”
“I don’t have any classes today,” he says, exasperation bleeding into his words. “What were you and Shinazugawa talking about that was so important that you nearly started a fire?”
“Nothing,” Sabito mutters. “He’s just being stupid, as usual. Doesn’t matter.”
“Matters enough that you almost burnt down our apartment,” Giyuu grumbles, but he lets the topic go. He practically hears the eye roll he gets in response. Silence falls between them, the only source of sound being the water running over his hand.
Sabito says suddenly, “Is that my hoodie?”
“Hm?” He blinks and looks down at himself, scanning over the velvet red fabric and the uneven strings and the way that the sleeves are long enough to completely cover his hands. “Oh,” he says, ears feeling faintly warm. “Yeah. You left it on my bed for some reason.”
Sabito raises a peach colored eyebrow, clearly amused. “So you decided to wear it?”
“Didn’t have any clothes,” Giyuu mutters, glancing back at the palm that’s been under the faucet for a good few minutes now.
Sabito shrugs. “Alright,” he says, beginning to pull his wrist away insistently. “I think my hand is fine now, Giyuu. I only touched it for a second.”
“Doesn’t mean it couldn’t be dangerous,” Giyuu huffs.
Sabito flicks his forehead as he frees his hand and shuts off the faucet. “You’re such a mother hen.”
“You nearly burnt our apartment down.”
“But I didn’t.” He grins, flicking excess water in Giyuu's face and snickering. “Whatever. Do your laundry today since it’s your day off and stop stealing my shit.”
Giyuu makes a face. “Language.”
“Mother hen,” Sabito repeats fondly. A rough hand ruffles through his hair, messing it up even more than it probably is.
“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes and swats the offending limb away. “Your class starts in thirty minutes, so get going already.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Sabito pouts and moves past. “Didn’t even get to eat breakfast,” he grumbles on the way out.
“And whose fault is that?” he calls.
“Shinazugawa’s!”
The door shuts with a click before he can respond. Giyuu sighs.
“Burnt down your apartment?” The line crackles when Makomo shifts, smothering a giggle into her hand. “That's a new one. You’d think that he’d have learned to pay attention when he’s cooking by now with all that Urokodaki has put him through.”
“Apparently not,” Giyuu mutters, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear as he works on his essay. “I told him that he has dish duty for the rest of the week.”
“Sounds fair.” There’s a hum, a shift, a small grumble, then, “Shit.”
“Everything okay?”
“Mhm, just dropped something. How's your essay going?”
Giyuu glances at his open laptop and winces. He’s written a grand total of two lines so far, and it’s due by the end of the week. “Fine.”
Makomo hums an acknowledgement, both of them falling quiet. She was rearranging her bookshelf when he last inquired as to what she was doing, but it doesn’t sound like she’s doing that anymore. Perhaps she’s found a particularly interesting book and started reading it.
A sudden thought strikes him. “Are you still planning on visiting the orphanage for spring break?”
“Hm? Yeah, of course. Why?”
Giyuu shakes his head before realizing that she can’t actually see him. “Nothing. Just making sure.”
Makomo goes to university just like Sabito and Giyuu do. She’s only a year older than the both of them, but she goes to a different college, one further away from the orphanage than Sabito and Giyuu’s. At least they can visit on weekends whenever they feel like it, but Makomo’s schedule and distance makes it so that she’s not able to visit as often.
It doesn’t keep her from texting or calling regularly. There’s been too many times when Giyuu wakes up to over a hundred new text messages from her and Sabito’s late-night conversations in their shared group chat.
Makomo reminds him of his older sister sometimes, in the way that she’s always reliable and calm. Whenever Giyuu is stressed out, she’s always there to lend a listening ear. She’s honest, but not in the brutal way that Urokodaki and Sabito usually are. She won’t sugarcoat things but she won't be harsh about it either, and that’s what Giyuu likes about her.
Perhaps that’s why she’s decided to be a teacher. The profession certainly suits her.
“What were they arguing about?”
The sudden question jerks him out of his thoughts. “What?”
“Shinazugawa and Sabito,” Makomo laughs. “You mentioned they were arguing over the phone, right? What was it?”
“Oh,” Giyuu says. “I don’t know. Sabito told me it didn’t matter.”
“You didn’t hear a single word?”
“I was kind of concentrating on getting Sabito’s attention so that our kitchen didn’t burn down, so no.”
“Boo.” Makomo blows a raspberry. “Must've been something important if he was so focused on it.”
There’s something sly in her voice that Giyuu can just barely pick out, but he doesn’t know what she’s referring to. Does she know something he doesn’t?
He sighs, brushing the thought away. “They might’ve been yelling about the upcoming council meeting this week. I don’t know.”
Makomo is quiet for a bit. Then, she giggles, the sound going faint as she muffles it into her palm. “Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.”
“I suppose,” Giyuu echoes in agreement.
He isn’t exactly sure what she means by that.
The door to Giyuu’s room flies open suddenly, and the full weight of a 185 cm tall adult male flies onto the foot of his bed, causing the mattress to dip and the entire frame to shake with the sheer speed and sudden change in weight distribution.
Giyuu, who has determinedly been working on his essay—after suffering through it nearly all day, he's finally on the first body paragraph and this train of thought is too good to lose—for the better part of an hour now, doesn’t even flinch.
“Giyuu,” Sabito says breathlessly—where did he run from? Their rooms are literally across from each other. “I just had a great idea.”
Giyuu grunts.
Sabito sighs dramatically, rolling onto his side and propping an arm up on the bed to rest his head on. “Oh, come on,” he whines. “At least try to sound excited.”
“I’m busy right now, Sabito.”
“Your essay’s not due till the end of the week. C’mon, c’mon, just humor me for a sec.”
When Giyuu makes no response, still determinedly typing, Sabito gives another long, loud sigh.
A few seconds pass.
Sabito sighs again, longer this time. “My own best friend doesn’t even love me.”
His train of thought now well and officially lost, Giyuu huffs and shuts his laptop, jutting a leg out to kick Sabito in the stomach and coaxing out an ‘oomph’ as the force nearly sends him rolling off the edge of the bed. “Fine. What is it?”
Sabito grins at him, entirely unphased, his eyes bright in the way that they get when he's particularly excited about something. “We should get a cat.”
Giyuu thinks about it for a moment. “Does this apartment even allow pets?”
“Who cares?”
“Me.” He sends a pointed look towards Sabito. “I’m not in a position to be kicked out and become homeless because my idiot roommate decided he was lonely.”
Sabito scoffs. “I don't want a cat because I’m lonely. Why would I be lonely when I’ve got you?”
Giyuu feels his face grow warm.
Oh, he thinks. He has to bite down the dumb smile that threatens to stretch across his face. It's dumb because it's Sabito who said it and they've been best friends since they were eight, so how is it that something as simple as that is able to make Giyuu feel as if someone just tossed his stomach off the roof of a six story building?
“—See, and Kanroji is always telling me all these stories about her cats. Don’t you think it’d be nice? It's like having a mini, fluffy pillow that follows you around and meows and purrs. Are you even listening to me, Giyuu?”
He blinks, dragged back to reality by the call of his name. Sabito is staring at him, and when their eyes meet he shakes his head with a sigh. Giyuu winces. “Sorry, I spaced out. What were you saying?”
Sabito repeats himself. Giyuu absorbs all the information, processing it all slowly and drumming his fingers on his laptop as he listens.
When the rant finishes, he makes a face. “Who’s gonna take care of it if we're both in class?”
An unimpressed look is shot his way. “It’s a cat. It doesn’t need to be monitored constantly. They sleep most of the time anyway.”
Still, he remains unsure. “I don’t know.”
“Okay,” Sabito says easily, surprisingly accepting. “Think about it. It was just an idea, anyway.”
Giyuu hums noncommittally. And that is the end of it.
Until it’s not.
Student council meetings aren’t Giyuu’s favorite thing in the world, especially considering that said student council consists of the arguably oddest bunch of students to ever congregate in the same room. He isn’t even sure why he was picked to be a part of it—it was mostly Sabito who dragged him along, and Giyuu is very well known for his inability to say no to Sabito when it comes to far too many things.
It doesn’t help that Sabito had taken Giyuu’s “I don’t know” as a pass to begin sending him every single cat post or video that he comes across. It doesn’t matter what hour of the day it is; it could be nearly three am, he could be in the middle of a class, or they could literally be sitting next to each other when his phone starts buzzing incessantly from the endless amount of text messages he’s getting.
Like now. Now is one of those times.
Rengoku has been droning on for a good fifteen minutes now about a potential community event, as he usually does. Giyuu is mostly certain that the only ones that are still paying attention are him and Kanroji, since Shinobu and Uzui seem to have immersed themselves in a rather intense under-the-table game of rock-paper-scissors, Shinazugawa is glaring daggers at the table as he thinks about god knows what (does that angry expression ever leave his face?), and Iguro seems more interested in sleeping. Sabito, who is leaning against Giyuu’s left shoulder, has one arm resting on Giyuu’s thigh so he can scroll through his phone.
Not that Rengoku notices, of course. Kanroji’s excited chime-ins are enough to keep him from doing so as Giyuu takes notes on the shared group document. He’s fairly certain that he’s the only one who’s taken any notes, aside from a few bullet points from Shinobu before her boredom overcame her and the single line written by Iguro, which was just to correct something that Giyuu had written. Bastard.
His attention is drawn away briefly when his phone buzzes where it has been laying face down on the table for the entire duration of the meeting.
The brief vibration doesn’t do more than draw a fleeting glance from Shinobu, and Rengoku doesn’t even seem to have heard it. Giyuu pays it no mind.
Until it buzzes again less than two minutes later.
Then again.
And again.
Now instead of just Shinobu, both Uzui and Shinazugawa are looking at him too. Actually, glaring would be a more accurate description in Shinazugawa’s case.
His phone continues to buzz relentlessly. Giyuu mutters under his breath as he picks it up, fumbling to turn it on silent mode instead of vibrate like he usually does. Sabito snickers under his breath, and when Giyuu glances over he notices that he has their (one-sided) Instagram DMs pulled up, showing a long string of cat related messages that are mostly reels or simply dumb memes.
“Asshole,” Giyuu hisses, elbowing him in the ribs. “Stop it.”
Sabito hardly flinches. “Sorry,” he whispers back, not sounding sorry in the least. “‘S not my fault that Instagram keeps showing me cute cat stuff.”
“You don’t need to send everything you see to me. We’re in the middle of a meeting, Sabito, you can wait for—”
“Tomioka! Sabito!” Rengoku booms. Giyuu withholds his grimace at the sheer volume of his call and feels Sabito stiffen against his side. All the eyes in the room shift their way. “Do you have any ideas that you’d be willing to share with the rest of the committee?”
“Nah,” Sabito responds nonchalantly. Giyuu can feel his face growing redder with every second longer that everyone else stares at them.
“They’re just doing their weird couple thing again,” Uzui says flippantly. “Don’t mind them, Kyoujurou.”
“We’re not a couple,” Sabito tosses a pencil his way, which flies over his head when the man ducks and bounces harmlessly off the wall. “But no need to be jealous, Uzui. It’s unmanly of you.”
Uzui rolls his eyes. “Jealous? I have three girlfriends.”
“And not a single boyfriend,” Sabito tuts. “Shame. What’s even the point of that face, then?”
“Wait,” Kanroji chimes in, a confused look on her face. “Sabito-kun and Tomioka-san aren't dating?”
“They might as well be,” Iguro mutters.
Rengoku lets out a booming laugh, patting Uzui on the back. The force of it would probably send any other normal person careening forward in their seat, but Uzui is also 198 cm of pure muscle mass, so he hardly even budges. “Don’t worry, Tengen! There’s no need to be ashamed of your lack of male partners! With your good looks, I’m sure you will have no issue.”
Uzui barks out a laugh. “You sure know how to make a man blush, Kyoujurou.”
“I'm gonna throw up,” Shinazugawa gags. “Can we go back to talking about the… spring festival or whatever? Anything but this.”
For once, Giyuu is inclined to agree. He’d rather go back to taking notes than sit through the blatant display of homoerotic tension between Rengoku and, well, any man that he happens to speak to.
(It’s always most prominent with Uzui. For some reason.)
“Look what you’ve done,” he mutters under his breath.
“Eh.” Sabito shrugs, not seeming bothered at all. He sends another cat reel.
“There’s nothing wrong with appreciating a man’s good looks, Shinazugawa!” Rengoku is saying when he tunes back into the conversation.
“And no need to be homophobic, Shinazugawa-san,” Shinobu chimes in, her usual ever-present smile plastered onto her lips to accompany the mischievous glint in her eyes.
Shinazugawa gapes. “The fuck?” he snaps. “I’m not—”
Unfortunately, he is promptly cut off as Rengoku launches into a spiel about acceptance and allowing people to love who they love.
Giyuu gives up on taking notes.
With a quiet sigh, he opens up one of the reels Sabito sent him.
The bell attached to the door jingles when he opens it. An influx of warmth and the unmistakable smell of coffee and pastries greets him.
An absentminded ‘Welcome!’ is called out to him, and Sabito must be focused enough on something to not notice it's him, because there’s no corresponding shout of his name that follows.
Giyuu doesn’t mind. Shifts tend to be fairly busy around this time of day, especially on weekdays. His usual seat by the corner window is luckily unoccupied, so he sets his bag down on one of the seats.
It’s a common routine for Giyuu, after his class finishes, to stop by the café where Sabito works four days a week. Usually he simply sits and does his homework for an hour or two until Sabito's shift is done and they can head back to their apartment together. Which is why Sabito doesn't look all too shocked when Giyuu strolls up to the counter.
He stares at him for a second before a blinding smile breaks out across his face. “I didn’t see you come in.”
“Obviously.” Giyuu rolls his eyes, but he smiles back and that only causes Sabito to grin wider. His stomach does that weird flippy thing again that reminds him vaguely of the butterflies that Shinobu and her sisters like to take care of. “Busy shift?”
“Not too bad,” Sabito answers honestly. “You want the usual?”
“Please.”
“On it.” He does some fiddling with the register. “You know the price already.”
Giyuu hums and forks over some bills from his wallet, which Sabito takes with a whistle as he punches in the order. “How was your class?” he asks in the meantime, and Giyuu follows to watch as he begins to make the drink. Whoever is with him on his shift must be somewhere in the back.
Giyuu shrugs. “Fine.”
“Are they ever anything but fine?” Sabito teases.
He shoots his friend a dry look. “They’re uneventful. All I did was take notes.”
“Boring. Maybe I should transfer to one of your classes just to spice it up.”
“Please don’t.” He grimaces. “You spice my life up enough as is.”
“Mean.” Sabito pops a cap on the drink and slides it over. “What are you working on today?”
“The same essay I've been working on for the entire week,” Giyuu deadpans as he takes his coffee. Sabito shrugs and smiles again, leaning against the edge of the counter with his arms crossed.
It’s only then that Giyuu notices the silver glint of his earrings, the same simple silver ones that he usually wears. Giyuu remembers when Sabito pierced his ears with a safety pin back in middle school, and Urokodaki had gotten more angry about the fact that he chose to be unsafe and do it on his own rather than just ask to go get it done professionally.
He runs a finger along the top of the cap idly, a sudden thought striking him. “Have you ever thought about wearing different earrings?”
Sabito makes a face, though it’s not one of disgust. “Sort of? That’s kind of out of the blue, isn't it?”
“Sorry, I just noticed your earrings.” He shrugs. “I've only ever seen you wear plain ones. You know how Shinobu has those butterfly ones, and Kanroji wears the ones with hearts on them…” He doesn’t know exactly where he's going with this train of thought. It’s just a stupid thing that struck him suddenly, and he finds himself trailing off into silence.
Sabito blinks a couple of times. Then, he laughs. “What, you want me to wear cute little heart shaped earrings like Kanroji?” He stops and gasps. “Wait, listen Giyuu, if you get your ears pierced too then we can wear matching heart earrings. Isn’t that a great idea?”
An image of him and Sabito wearing matching earrings flashes in his mind briefly. What follows is another mental image of Sabito helping Giyuu put on said earrings, leaning in close to be able to see, skin warm when his knuckles brush against his cheek, being close enough that he could smell the shampoo that Sabito uses…
“Um.” If his face were any redder, he’s entirely certain that he would match the exact color of Rengoku’s hair tips. “No.”
“Aw, c’mon.” Sabito sticks out his tongue childishly.
Whatever he might’ve said next never gets to leave his mouth, because their conversation is interrupted with a sharp: “Sabito! Come do your job instead of flirting with your boyfriend!”
His coworker must’ve returned from whatever they were doing in the back. Sabito rolls his eyes, straightening and running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m coming,” he calls over his shoulder before turning back to Giyuu. “I've got, like, two hours left. Good luck with your essay.”
Giyuu, whose brain has unfortunately managed to latch on to the fact that Sabito did not do anything to clarify to his coworker that they are not, in fact, boyfriends, can only force out a strangled: “Thanks.”
If Sabito notices, he graciously doesn’t say anything, only smiles warmly at Giyuu as he picks up his drink and shuffles back to his table. Sabito’s coworker is reprimanding him when he steals a glance back towards the counter, vaguely recognizing her to be one of Uzui’s girlfriends just by her two-toned hair and high ponytail. Makio? Or is she Hinatsuru? He doesn’t interact with Uzui nor his partners often enough to remember who’s who.
The sunlight coming through the window reflects off Sabito’s earrings again, catching Giyuu’s attention for the second time. It makes the same scenarios from before flash in his mind.
Face already beginning to burn again, he quickly shoves those unwelcome, pathetically homosexual ideas out of his thoughts and focuses instead on trying to brainstorm the next paragraph of his essay.
“My, my, Tomioka-san, I didn't expect to run into you here, of all places.”
Giyuu, who has been staring holes into his screen as he deletes and rewrites a sentence repeatedly, blinks for what feels like the first time in hours.
This voice is familiar. Almost painfully so. Withholding a grimace, he slowly turns to his right and comes face to face with a head of dark hair and lavender eyes.
“Kochou,” he says finally after a moment of staring at each other. Her smile only grows wider at that, and it unsettles him slightly because he doesn’t know exactly what she's smiling for. “Why are you here?”
She laughs. “Why else do you think? To get a drink. I sure hope all that essay writing hasn't rotted your brain.” Before he can respond, she plants herself in the seat across from him, the smile never leaving her face. “You seem like the kind of person who prefers to work in the solitude of their own room, rather than a busy place like this. Am I right?”
“You’re not… wrong,” Giyuu admits. “I’m waiting for Sabito to finish his shift.” He waves a hand to gesture over towards the counter. Shinobu’s gaze follows it, her head turning as she takes a peek, and when she looks back at him there’s a dangerous glint in her eye, one that makes him immediately regret saying anything at all.
She busies herself with picking at a stray piece of lint on the table, flicking it to the side. Her voice remains cool, casual as she says, “Sabito-san is a good-looking guy, isn't he?”
Giyuu blinks.
Shinobu stares at him expectantly, still smiling.
“I… suppose,” he says slowly. Because she isn’t wrong, not in the least. Sabito is handsome. There’s a large scar that stretches from his ear nearly down to his mouth, a remnant from the accident that had taken his family. His eyes are kind, grayish with an undertone of lavender that always becomes more prominent in the sunlight. Like cloudy skies before snowfall.
When he glances back towards the counter, Sabito is talking to another customer as he makes their drink. He’s smiling as he talks, eyes crinkled at the edges, and whatever they say next makes him laugh, tossing his head back as he does. When he opens his eyes again to continue the conversation and pass them their drink, the sunlight coming through the window makes his eyes glimmer. It reflects off those stupid goddamned earrings again, and Giyuu is… Giyuu is—
—breathless.
“Giyuu-san, Giyuu-san, are you still there?”
Fuck.
“Hm, let’s see,” Shinobu hums lightly, leaning forward to press the back of her hand to his forehead. “Redness in the cheeks, accelerated breathing which indicates an increased heartbeat, raised temperature, prolonged focus on a particular someone… oh my,” she gasps, drawing her hand back to cover her mouth. “Could this possibly be… love, Tomioka-san?”
Giyuu jerkily tears his gaze away and back to her teasing smile. Her grin is damn near shit-eating. His face feels like it’s on fire, and his chest is tight like someone had snatched up his heart and squeezed with all their strength.
Shinobu’s words echo in his mind.
Love?
Is that what this feeling is?
Giyuu slams his laptop shut.
That takes Shinobu off guard. Her brow furrows, the smile dropping off her face briefly to give way to the faintest hint of worry.
“Tomioka-san—”
“I need to go,” he interrupts, springing out of his seat and beginning to gather his things. “Please tell Sabito that I left early. Sorry.”
Shinobu stares at him with wide eyes, lips parted slightly from surprise. “Alright, but—”
Giyuu is out the door before she can even finish her sentence.
He spends the rest of the day in his room, the door locked and his laptop planted in front of him as he tries to determinedly type out the rest of his essay.
It’s due in two days and he’s half a page under the minimum. Which normally wouldn’t be an issue, if his brain could think about anything other than his peach haired roommate.
Sabito doesn’t message him after he leaves, but Giyuu hears when he comes home. The door swings open with a creak and there's the faint jingle of keys.
It takes a bit before quiet footsteps come pattering down the hallway. They stop at his door.
“Giyuu?” Sabito calls. His voice is muffled by the door but it is soft, almost as if he’s speaking to a hurt animal. “Are you okay? Shinobu told me that you left early, did something happen?”
Giyuu opens his mouth to make up a response, but no words come out. He finds himself staying silent, a quiet panic twisting in the bottom of his gut. Did Shinobu tell him? Would she? She’s a brutal teaser and he knows this, but would she really go that far? He can't guarantee anything.
The doorknob jiggles once, then falls still. “Okay, well, your door is locked so I'm gonna assume that you’re in there. Um.” A pause. “I don’t know if something happened at the café, but you can talk to me. It’s not manly to keep your feelings all bottled up, you know.”
It’s also decidedly unmanly to realize you’ve been in love with your best friend for god knows how long, freak out, and run away back to your shared apartment to hide in your room, Giyuu thinks. He bites down a bitter laugh and exhales into the pillow he has wrapped his arms around.
The silence ensues for a few moments longer before Sabito sighs. “Okay. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” There’s another uncertain pause as if he’s hoping for a late response, then the footsteps start up again, retreating. The sound of a door opening and closing travels through the apartment.
Giyuu shoves his face into his pillow.
I’m so stupid.
“Hey, Giyuu?”
Giyuu goes rigid at the sound of Sabito’s voice. His eyes dart to stare at the shadow beneath the door, which shifts slightly before there’s a slight thud, like Sabito has just knocked his head against the door.
It’s only been two hours since Sabito came home from his shift, which means it’s been a little over two hours that Giyuu has been hiding in his room.
At the ensuing silence, Sabito blows out a breath. “Okay, still not talking. Uh, I made dinner, if you want it. I just left it on the counter for you, but, yeah. It's your favorite. Salmon and daikon. Please eat it so I know that you’re alive in there.”
Now that he mentioned it, Giyuu is feeling hungry.
There’s another long beat of silence, then yet another thud. He must be leaning against the door.
“Look,” Sabito says, “I don’t know what Kochou said to you. But I don’t care if she’s a girl or not, if she hurt your feelings then I’ll gladly go punch her.”
Giyuu winces. Please don’t, he thinks. It’s not like he blames Shinobu at all, really. If anything, it's his own fault for being so stupid and needing an outsider to point out his own feelings to his face.
Sabito is quiet for a while, and when he speaks again his voice is low, soft. “If it was anything I did, I’m sorry. You can let me know if I—if I fucked up. I’m not—I won’t get angry, promise. I just want you to be okay.”
Giyuu feels his heart twist. He exhales slowly, leaning back to press the heels of his palms into his eyes.
Shit, shit, shit. What is he supposed to say to that? Hey Sabito, sorry for practically ghosting you. Kochou Shinobu made me realize that I’m in love with you—have been for who knows how long, so I ran away because I know that you probably just think of me as a best friend and I don’t want to ruin thirteen years of friendship with my pathetic gay pining. By the way, thanks for the salmon with daikon, you’re the best.
Yeah, right. It’s even worse that he’s being so sweet about it. Of all the people to fall in love with, it had to be his best friend. Good going, Giyuu.
A sigh from the other side of the door drags him from his momentary panic.
“Alright,” Sabito mumbles. “Goodnight, Giyuu.”
The shadow beneath the door retreats. Once again, he is left to his own thoughts.
“So, let me get this straight. Kochou Shinobu made you realize that you are in love with Sabito.”
“Yes.”
“So you ran away and started avoiding him?”
“... Yes.”
Makomo gives a long, exasperated sigh. “Giyuu,” she starts, stops, and starts again. “Why?”
“Because I can’t look at him!” he exclaims. Sabito should be in class right now, so it should be relatively safe. “He’s just—everytime I do it feels like someone punched me in the sternum.”
“What a beautiful way to describe love,” Makomo says dryly. “How long have you been avoiding him for?”
“... Three days now.”
“Three days?!” she shrieks, nearly blowing Giyuu’s eardrums out in the process. He winces and draws the phone slightly away from his ear. “Seriously, Giyuu?!”
“I just—I don’t know what to do,” he complains, rolling over onto his side. He accidentally kicks his laptop near the foot of the bed in the process and winces.
“Giyuu,” she sighs, sounding like she’s pinching the bridge of her nose much in the same way that Urokodaki used to do whenever she, Sabito, and Giyuu would get into trouble as kids. He can practically envision it now. “Giyuu, Giyuu, Giyuu. For someone who got a full scholarship to one of the best universities in Tokyo, you are so unbelievably stupid.”
“You’re supposed to be helping,” Giyuu mutters indignantly. “Not insulting me.”
“It's not my fault that you’re about as dense as Sabito is tall,” she huffs. “Honestly. Have you ever considered doing the logical thing and simply telling him?”
“What? I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“He doesn’t like me that way,” he mumbles. “I don’t want it to change things between us.”
Makomo snorts. “It’s Sabito. You really think that he will let that happen?”
“Well.” Giyuu pauses. “I don’t know. Still. I can’t just—it’s not as easy as you act like it is.”
“Life isn’t easy,” she retorts. At his hesitation, she sighs again, the sound coming out muffled and distorted over the line. When she speaks again, her voice is softer. “You need to do something. It’s not good to keep your feelings bottled up like this; all it will do is end up making things more difficult for the both of you.”
He deflates, sinking even more into his mattress as if it could open up and swallow him whole. Makomo is trying to help, he knows this, and there’s undeniable logic in her words. But still, the idea of telling Sabito his feelings just to be rejected makes something in him twist painfully.
The line crackles. “Giyuu? Are you there?”
He swallows down a lump in his throat and runs a palm over his face. Suddenly, he feels a lot like going to sleep; hibernation, maybe. Hibernation sounds like a great idea. Then he’d never have to think about any of his problems ever again.
Giyuu exhales softly, blinking up at his ceiling. On the other side, Makomo is quiet.
“Yeah,” he says eventually, forcing the words from his mouth. “Yeah, I’m here. You’re right.”
There’s a cat staring at him from the sidewalk.
Giyuu pauses, slowly lowering his foot from where it had been half raised to take a step. Behind him, the convenience store doors slide shut with a quiet hiss. He’d stopped by to get something to eat on his way back from his evening class, and by now the sun is only a tiny sliver peeking over the rooftops. Orange and yellow and pink colors fill the sky, contrasting sharply with the slowly darkening blue.
He stares at the cat. That cat stares back, tail curled neatly around its paws.
It is, admittedly, a thin, sad looking thing. Its gray and white fur is matted and dirty, clumped up in some places and suspiciously patchy in others. When Giyuu peers closer, he spots a sliver of faint red clinging to one white paw that it seems to be favoring slightly. He doesn't have much experience with cats, but he can tell that it's hardly more than a kitten. And it’s just looking at him. Observing.
He has half the mind to leave it alone and move on with his day, to get home so he can go back to hiding in his room before Sabito returns from his evening class, regardless of what Makomo had said to him a few days ago. It doesn’t even flinch when he moves closer, attempting to inch his way around it so he can continue on the path back to the apartment building.
We should get a cat.
Giyuu stops in his tracks.
Don’t you think it’d be nice? It’s like having a mini, fluffy pillow that follows you around and meows and purrs.
… The universe is mocking him.
Slowly, he turns around to look at the cat again. It’s still staring at him with its wide amber eyes. It almost looks sad as it watches him, and Giyuu feels his heart clench when it flicks an ear and tilts its head slightly, never breaking eye contact.
How long has it been living on the streets, trying to survive on its own? When was that last time it ate? How many people have seen it and simply walked by without even a hint of regret, of empathy?
Sabito wouldn’t leave it. He’s always cared about this kind of stuff, always cried at those sad animal rescue videos on YouTube and fawned over Kanroji’s cats whenever she would show them pictures.
Giyuu closes his eyes and breathes out a sigh.
Damn it.
He steps towards the cat, lowering himself into a crouch so as to not seem too intimidating. Giyuu doesn’t have much experience with animals, but he can get the general idea just thinking back to all the rescue videos he’s watched with Sabito at three am when neither of them could sleep.
“Hello,” he tries, keeping his voice soft and hopefully persuading. “I won’t hurt you.”
Its tail twitches. He inches forward slowly, the plastic bag looped hanging off his wrist brushing against the cement. The noise makes him wince, but the feline doesn’t seem all too affected.
“Please don’t bite me,” he mutters beneath his breath, stretching out a hand. They are only a few inches apart now; his fingertips are just short of the cat’s forehead.
It observes him, then stands slowly. Giyuu exhales and wiggles his fingers slightly. “I won't hurt you,” he repeats. “It’s alright.”
Cautiously, it stretches out its neck to sniff his fingers. He goes still, trying not to move at all as soft whiskers brush against his skin. The cat meows once before pushing its head into his palm, and he releases a breath that he hadn’t even realized he'd been holding.
He pets the cat gently, coaxing it more towards him. When it’s close enough to rub a cheek along his knee, he carefully picks it up, going slow so as to not startle it or jostle any unknown injuries.
Fortunately, all it does is look at him with large eyes, stretching out to sniff at his cheek before settling into his hold rather easily. Giyuu breathes a sigh of relief, grateful that it doesn’t feel too heavy and that the walk back to the apartment shouldn't be long.
“You desperately need a bath,” he tells it softly, wrinkling his nose at the putrid smell coming from its fur.
The cat meows again. It sounds like an agreement.
Making the trek back home with the cat in his arms isn’t as difficult as he initially thinks it might be. It seems relatively content to stay in his hold, and the walk isn’t too far at least. It doesn’t even look scared when he steps into the elevator and presses the button for the fourth floor, resting its head on his shoulder quietly. Maybe it’s sleeping.
As Giyuu fumbles with his keys with one hand, he hears a noise from inside the apartment. Trying to find the right key proves far more difficult than it should be.
He barely manages to jam it into the lock before there is a click of said lock being turned and the is yanked open.
“Alright,” Sabito’s voice rings out through the hallway, loud and firm. The cat raises its head at the sound of a new presence. “It’s been a week and I’m tired of you refusing to even look at me, so get in here and we’re gonna—is that a cat?”
Giyuu stares into gray eyes with undisguised shock. “You’re—” he stammers, “Why are you home? Don’t you have class right now?”
Sabito’s gaze, which had been fixed on the cat, flickers up to him briefly. “I left early,” he answers tersely. “Why do you have a cat?”
“It’s,” Giyuu hesitates. “I found it. On the street. It was looking at me.” It made me think about you, he doesn’t say, swallowing the words back in his throat.
Sabito raises a critical eyebrow. They stare at each other in silence for a short moment longer before Sabito sighs, widening the door and stepping aside to let him in. “Come on,” he grumbles. “It needs a bath. And you do too.”
Giyuu cannot find it in himself to argue. He finds himself following Sabito all the way to the kitchen, hovering nearby as he begins to fill up the sink with warm water.
It doesn’t take long for the sink to fill a bit over halfway. Sabito holds out his arms expectantly, and Giyuu—after a moment of hesitation—hands the cat over. The cat doesn’t seem very bothered by the water as it is slowly lowered into the makeshift bath, and doesn’t even seem to be wary of Sabito at all.
Perhaps it’s simply trusting, or it can just smell Sabito’s kindness. Giyuu doesn’t know how cats work.
Once the cat settles in, standing awkwardly in the water as it watches them, Sabito shoos him off.
“Go shower,” he orders, nose wrinkling slightly. “You smell like shit.”
Giyuu blinks. “Okay,” he agrees. Sabito turns away from him, so Giyuu simply places the bag of stuff he got from the convenience store on the counter, then heads towards the bathroom without another word.
The shower he takes is a short one, mostly because he’s not sure about the levels of success that Sabito is going to have with bathing the cat, even if it has been fairly docile so far. He’s toweling off his hair as he steps out into the hallway, noticing the low voice coming from the living room. Sabito looks up at him when he steps into the room, eyes scanning over his figure quickly before he holds up the cat, wrapped in a thick towel and looking very much like a furry burrito.
“She’s surprisingly calm,” he says, tone betraying nothing but vague interest about the new arrival in their apartment. Giyuu shrugs noncommittally and moves to sit on the couch. The cat blinks at him, tilting its—her, he supposes—head curiously. Sabito places her on the couch and unwraps her from the towel, letting her stand on her own. She sniffs at the cushions curiously, then begins to explore the new surroundings.
“Did you fix her paw?” Giyuu asks, continuing to towel at his hair as he moves to sit on the other side of the couch. The cat comes up to him and sniffs at his thigh curiously, before jumping down from the couch and begins to wander around.
“She had a piece of metal in it that I took out,” Sabito answers simply, gaze fixed on the waving tail disappearing beneath the coffee table. “Seems like it doesn’t bother her very much; it wasn’t bleeding at all.”
“Oh, that’s good,” he says. He is quiet for a minute before having a sudden thought. “We don’t have any cat food.”
“We have canned tuna.”
“Oh,” he says again.
Sabito glances at him once before sighing. “Come here, I’ll help.”
Giyuu looks towards him, hesitating. Sabito doesn’t break eye contact, holding out his hands expectantly for the towel. The look on his face leaves little room for argument. Attempting to say no will probably not work out.
“Fine,” he mumbles, scooting across the couch and turning his back to Sabito to allow him access to his hair. Sabito doesn’t say anything as he takes the towel from his hands, silently beginning to dry his hair. He’s careful as he does it, gentle. The feeling is soothing.
Unfortunately, the silence doesn’t last. Giyuu is idly watching as the cat disappears into the kitchen when Sabito speaks, tone suspiciously conversational. “So. You wanna talk about it?”
He doesn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know what’s being referred to. He grimaces. “No?”
A pinch on the back of his neck, not hard enough to hurt but light enough to sting and make him wince again. “Wrong answer, try again.”
Giyuu is quiet.
A few moments of this pass before Sabito puffs out a frustrated breath. He can feel the warmth of it on the back of his neck, raising goosebumps in its wake and leaving Giyuu intensely aware of the way Sabito’s hands keep brushing briefly against his skin.
“You’ve been avoiding me for a week,” Sabito says, filling the silence. “Can I know why?” There is a pause. “Is it something that Kochou did?”
Sort of.
“No,” he manages, his throat feeling unusually tight.
“Okay. Something I did, then?”
… Sort of. “No.”
“Shinazugawa? Rengoku? Uzui? Iguro? Kanroji?” Then, again, “Shinazugawa?”
“You’re such an ass,” he mutters. “No, none of them did anything.”
Sabito snorts. “That sounds like bullshit to me. I’ll punch all of them for you. You can even punch me if you want.”
“Will you stop it with that?” Giyuu asks, exasperation bleeding into his words. “You don’t need to punch anyone.”
“Well what else am I supposed to do?” Sabito snaps, patience clearly running thin. “My best friend started avoiding me out of the blue and won’t even tell me what’s wrong. The only reason he’s even talking to me at all is because I ditched my class early to catch him before he came home. I’ve been worried, Giyuu.”
Giyuu swallows, suddenly feeling guilty. He knows that Sabito has probably trying to give him space until he was ready to talk, despite the fact that he is the type of person with very little patience when it comes to these kinds of issues. Giyuu is the exact opposite; he tends to avoid problems that stem from social situations, preferring to keep to himself in order to process things and reign in his emotions.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
The hands on his head pause, then the towel drops away. Sabito sighs again, though he doesn’t sound annoyed or even remotely angry anymore, just tired.
“Don’t be sorry,” he chides softly, tugging at a slightly damp lock of Giyuu’s long hair. “Just tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”
His tongue feels numb, almost like it doesn’t belong to him. Giyuu opens and closes his mouth listlessly, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to speak past the warm, fuzzy feeling bubbling in his chest.
It’s strange, the way that Sabito is so… okay with this. Giyuu would understand if he simply wanted to yell at him for shutting himself away, but the only annoyance to come out of it all had dissipated just as quickly as it appeared. Sabito has every right to be more angry with him than he’s being, and Giyuu doesn’t quite understand how he can be so focused on helping him.
He also doesn’t know why he’s so surprised, honestly. Sabito’s been like this ever since they were kids; kind, understanding, forgiving. Giyuu’s certain that it’s a large part of the reason why he’s in love with him in the first place. Everything about Sabito is just… warm. Like the gentle sunlight that comes after a storm.
He’s the sun. And Giyuu is just a tiny planet lucky enough to be caught in his orbit.
“I’m in love with you.”
Gentle hands that had been braiding his hair pause. Giyuu hardly even registers the fact that he had spoken until Sabito utters a quiet, “What?”
His face instantly flares up red. Giyuu opens his mouth, closes it. Opens it again, momentarily unable to stammer out a coherent word as his heart drops down to his stomach. “Nothing,” he says quickly, moving to scramble from his seat. “It’s nothing, I—”
He hardly even gets one foot on the ground when an arm wraps around his waist to keep him from moving and Sabito’s forehead lands on his shoulder. Soft hair brushes against the side of his neck, and for a moment Giyuu is confused. Panicked, even. Sabito doesn’t say anything, just holds him there so that he can’t leave, and—are his shoulders shaking?
Oh, Giyuu realizes lamely as Sabito’s laughter bubbles up into the air. It starts off quiet, hardly audible, then quickly becomes almost worryingly hysterical.
He doesn’t exactly know what to do here. He’s perplexed and ashamed and more than a little embarrassed, but nothing in his twenty-one short years of living has prepared him for this kind of situation. He is just about to get up and leave and probably never come out of his room ever again when Sabito finally manages to catch his breath.
“Giyuu,” he says, sounding painfully amused. “Look at me.”
The hand around his waist withdraws to allow him to turn. Hesitantly, Giyuu shifts around until they are facing each other on the couch. Sabito’s gray eyes are filled with mirth as he reaches up to brush some of Giyuu’s hair out of his face, so gentle it makes his heart ache and eyes dart down towards the cushions and face burn impossibly redder.
“Is that that this was all about?” Sabito asks, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. “You liking me?”
Giyuu nods pitifully. “Yeah,” he chokes out, feeling kind of like the most pathetic thing to ever exist.
Until Sabito laughs again, quieter this time, hand coming to cup Giyuu’s cheek. His palm is warm.
“You’re a dumbass,” he says, fondness bleeding through his words and into the air between them. “The biggest dumbass I’ve ever known, you know that?”
“I don’t… understand,” Giyuu admits, a little helplessly as he stares into Sabito’s soft eyes.
Sabito sighs, but it’s not exactly angry. Just affectionate, really. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” is all he responds with, before leaning forward and pressing their lips together.
By the time Giyuu actually registers what’s going on past the smell of Sabito and the warmth and the gentle pressure against his lips, Sabito is already leaning away, a faint dusting of pink to his cheeks. Giyuu stares at him, slack-jawed and speechless.
“You just kissed me,” he says numbly.
“I just did that, yes,” Sabito agrees. “So do you get it now?”
His brain stutters, lags like that old laptop Makomo’s had since they were teenagers that she refuses to get rid of. Giyuu blinks at him owlishly and Sabito stares back with red cheeks and a tentative smile on his lips.
“You like me?” he asks finally, pieces clicking together slowly. “I’m—you like me?”
“Of course I do, idiot.” The hand on his cheek moves to grab it, pulling insistently but not hard enough to hurt. “Why do you think I did that? Dumbass. Honestly, it’s like your head is full of rocks in there.”
It’s hard to speak past Sabito tugging at his cheek, but he does it anyway. “Why?”
“What do you mean why?” Sabito stops, giving him a frown. “Because you’re you.”
Giyuu falls silent for a bit, thoughts churning. After a few moments pass, he asks, “How long?”
Sabito winces. “I dunno. A while. Did you not get my hints?”
“Hints? What hints?”
“Y’know, the flirting,” he says, exasperated. “The matching heart earrings thing? Spamming your Instagram DMs? All the—all the touching? Ah—that time I nearly set our kitchen on fire because I was arguing with Shinazugawa about you?”
Giyuu blinks. “That was flirting?” He frowns. “Wait, you nearly set our kitchen on fire because you were arguing about me?”
“Oh my god.” Sabito buries his face in his hands. “Yes, he was being—ugh, it doesn’t matter. And yes, it was flirting.”
“But… you do all of that normally?” he asks. He’s so incredibly confused.
Sabito gives a long sigh, lifting his head to look at him. “Makomo was right, you are dense as fuck,” he mutters. “I can’t believe you avoided me for so long because you liked me. Have you ever heard of just telling me?”
Giyuu turns impossibly redder. “You say that like it’s easy.”
“It would’ve been easier than me worrying that you hated me all week,” Sabito snorts.
He frowns. “I could never hate you, Sabito.”
Sabito’s eyes widen and his cheeks redden almost instantly before he jerks his head away abruptly. “This is what I mean,” he grumbles, though he doesn’t sound actually angry. “You say stuff like that and then wonder why I’m in love with you.”
Giyuu opens his mouth to respond, but the conversation is cut abruptly short by the presence of a fluffy feline leaping onto the space between them with an insistent meow. Sabito blinks and the cat blinks back before turning to look at Giyuu, meowing again, something a bit plaintive to her voice.
“I guess that means that we should feed her,” Sabito sighs, petting her head fondly. “You like canned tuna, cat?”
She meows again. It makes him smile, and it makes something in Giyuu go all warm and fuzzy and light.
“Sounds like a yes to me.”
Later, when the cat has been fed and they’ve also eaten, they end up in Sabito’s room. After the cat—Neko is what Sabito has taken to calling her, and though it’s cheesy and dumb, Giyuu doesn’t have the heart to protest—has done a thorough exploration of the new environment, she jumps up on the bed between them, where Sabito is writing a list of things they’d need to buy to take care of her and Giyuu is reading a book.
It seems to be an unspoken thing that Neko is theirs now. He supposes that’s just how they work, really. When you’ve known someone for as long as Giyuu has known Sabito, there’s always this sort of… understanding. Sometimes Giyuu thinks that he knows Sabito better than he knows even himself, and sometimes conversations between them are nothing more than a simple exchange of glances.
But none of this means that he can know everything that Sabito is thinking. After the events of the living room, he no longer knows exactly what they are, even though he probably should. He’s itching to ask, uncertainty coiling through his stomach like a snake. He isn’t sure exactly why it feels so hard to.
“You’re thinking pretty hard over there, ‘Yuu,” Sabito notes absentmindedly. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Giyuu answers reflexively. He winces and hesitates as Sabito gives a noncommittal hum, which is a clear invitation that he doesn’t believe him and that Giyuu should go on. He takes a breath. “Actually, I—are we together?”
There is a pause. Sabito looks up at him, expression quizzical. “I thought it was obvious after we both mutually confessed to—you know.”
“Oh,” Giyuu says. He feels a bit dumb now. Sabito scoots over so that they’re sitting closer to each other, Neko curled up near the foot of the bed.
“You think I just go around kissing anyone?” He jokes, bumping their shoulders together. Giyuu feels his face warm from both the embarrassment and proximity. “Honestly, Giyuu.”
“Well.” He pauses. “I don’t know. I’ve never—never kissed anyone. Before.”
Sabito laughs. “Cool. Me neither.” There is a beat of silence, then, “Wanna practice?”
Giyuu blinks. His ears are definitely a bit red right now. When he looks over at Sabito there’s a cheeky grin on his face, the shit-eating kind that nearly rivals Shinobu’s in terms of mischief.
The difference, though, is that it doesn’t unnerve him like Shinobu’s does. No, instead there’s just fondness, warm and light in his chest.
“Okay,” he finds himself agreeing. He’s always been helpless at saying no when it comes to Sabito.
Sabito’s just about to knock on the door to the orphanage for what must be the fifteenth time when it swings open, and Urokodaki’s kind, old face greets them. He peers at them, no hint of surprise to his expression—Giyuu had called ahead, after all—in silence, eyes flicking from Sabito, to Giyuu, to their interlocked hands, then back up to their faces.
Then, he breaks out into a wide grin. “Finally decided to show up, eh? It’s been too long; honestly, would it kill you to call every once in a while?” He opens his arms for a hug, and Giyuu untangles his hand from Sabito’s in order to receive it.
“College is hard, old man,” Sabito huffs. “We’re here now, what does it matter?”
“Whatever you say, brat.” Urokodaki snorts. “What are you waiting out here for? Come in, come in! I don’t have all day.”
Sabito’s face twists up as they step through the doorway and shut the door behind them. “You kind of do though?”
Urokodaki rewards his impertinence with a smack on the back of his head that launches them into one of their routine arguments.
They’re fortunate that the orphanage is usually quiet at this time of day, when all of the kids are at school. Makomo had arrived the day before, and she’s sitting at the table on her phone when Urokodaki ushers them into the dining room, fussing over the two of them as if they’re still kids and not fully grown adults with their own apartment and jobs.
“Honestly, Giyuu, it’s like you never eat,” he tuts, pinching at his arm. “Is that brat not making sure you’re taking care of yourself? Have you been keeping him out of trouble?”
“Of course I’m making sure he’s taking care of himself!” Sabito exclaims. “Besides, why do you call Giyuu by his name but all you call me is ‘brat’? I knew you had a favorite.”
“You are a pain in my ass,” Urokodaki says matter-of-factly. “Giyuu is not.”
“You’re breaking my heart here, old man.”
“Cry me a river.” He grabs Sabito by the elbow and ushers Giyuu off towards Makomo. “Now come help me make tea.”
It’s a blatant excuse, since everyone knows that Urokodaki is perfectly capable of making tea without any assistance. When it comes to Sabito, Giyuu, and Makomo, he likes to act as if being old means he is unable to do anything on his own, even if they all know it’s actually the exact opposite. After all, it takes a certain amount of skill, patience, and care to be able to run an orphanage for as long as Urokodaki has been.
Giyuu watches them disappear from the room, then turns to look at Makomo, who has propped her legs up on her chair and is looking at him with a curious smile on her face.
“It’s about time,” she comments when he sits himself down on a chair. “I thought I’d have to deal with getting panicked calls about each other from both of you until I went insane.”
He chooses to ignore the comment about going insane. “Did Sabito tell you?”
Makomo laughs. “No, but I could tell. You look much happier.”
Giyuu looks down at himself. “Do I?” He hadn’t thought that he was acting any different, but then again, sometimes he forgets that Makomo had grown up with them too, and therefore knows him almost as well as Sabito does. She’s always been pretty perceptive, too.
The bickering from the kitchen grows louder, not enough for their conversation to be audible, but enough for their voices to be heard. Makomo glances in that direction and rolls her eyes. “Wonder what they’re talking about,” she says, sending a pointed look in Giyuu’s direction.
There’s a clatter and a shout, loud enough to be heard. “You come back from college and suddenly think that it’s okay to be wrecking my house?!”
Then, “It was an accident, old man! Ow—what the fuck!”
“How many times have I told you to watch your fucking language?!”
Makomo sighs. Giyuu grimaces.
He’s sure that Sabito will be fine. Him and Urokodaki arguing is nothing new; they’ve been like this since forever, and it definitely doesn’t keep Urokodaki from liking Sabito enough to formally adopt him and give him his last name.
Soon enough, both Sabito and Urokodaki return to the dining room. Sabito has a tray of tea in his hands and a sour look on his face, while Urokodaki is holding a rolled up newspaper with a vaguely annoyed look on his face, though it dissipates as soon as his eyes lock onto Giyuu and Makomo sitting at the table.
“All of you are so grown up,” he sighs, shaking his head. “It feels like just yesterday that you three were all children, running around causing trouble.”
Sabito snorts as he sets the tray of tea down on the table. “Not all the reminiscing about ‘the old days’ again.”
“Oh, be quiet.” Urokodaki wacks him over the head with the newspaper again. Sabito doesn’t even flinch, just rolls his eyes and places a cup of tea in front of Makomo, then the seat that Urokodaki has taken. “How’s college, you three?”
Sabito drags a seat over to sit next to Giyuu, shoulders close enough to touch. Makomo brightens and begins to talk about her classes as Urokodaki listens and sips his tea. There’s a tentative brush against the back of his hand, then another. Giyuu is certain that his cheeks are a faint pink as Sabito’s hand slowly slips into his, their fingers interlacing. When Urokodaki glances their way, there’s a knowing edge to his smile that is accompanied by what might be a hint of pride.
That warm, fuzzy, stomach-flipping feeling is back again, twisting in his gut. This time, Giyuu welcomes it, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back his smil. It feels easy. It feels natural. It feels right.
Sabito squeezes his hand gently, his skin warm and his palm fitting so easily into his.
(That feels right, too.)
