Chapter Text
It had been a few days since that 3 AM conversation.
Neither of them had brought it up since.
They just went back to how things normally were.
Arguing.
Annoying each other.
Knife making some stupid comment whenever he got the chance, and Trophy getting pissed off about it.
The usual.
Although, there was one thing that hadn't gone back to normal.
Trophy still had Knife's jacket.
It was a black leather jacket, with a matchbox sitting inside the right pocket and a small cigarette burn near the collar.
Trophy had meant to give it back.
He really did.
He just... hadn't.
The first day, he forgot.
The second day, Knife was busy.
The third day, Trophy saw Knife and suddenly didn't feel like bringing it up.
And after that, it just became awkward.
Every time Trophy thought about giving it back, he'd find another excuse.
*I'll do it later.*
*He's probably going somewhere.*
*I'll give it back tomorrow.*
It wasn't like he was purposely keeping it.
At least, that's what Trophy told himself.
Eventually, Knife noticed.
It wasn't exactly difficult to figure out.
Trophy had been walking around in his jacket for days.
And somehow, Knife still hadn't asked for it back.
Trophy noticed that, too.
He knew Knife knew.
Knife knew Trophy knew.
Neither of them said anything about it.
It just became this weird little unspoken thing between them.
Which was stupid.
It was just a jacket.
Sure, it was one of Knife's favorite jackets, but that didn't make it some huge deal.
Trophy could give it back whenever he wanted.
He just...
Didn't.
That night, Trophy finally decided he was going to return it in the morning.
No more excuses.
He'd find Knife, hand him the jacket, and that would be the end of it.
Simple.
Trophy tossed the jacket onto the edge of his desk before climbing into bed.
“Tomorrow,” he muttered.
Then he pulled the blanket over himself and closed his eyes.
φ(゜▽゜*)♪
A few hours later, Trophy woke up.
He thought he would fall back to sleep easily.
But minutes past.
He continued staring at the ceiling.
Sleep wasn't coming back anytime soon.
“Ugh...”
He rolled onto his side, trying to get comfortable.
Nothing.
He rolled back.
Still nothing.
Trophy eventually gave up and stared around his room instead.
Moonlight slipped through the window, barely lighting up the room.
His eyes eventually landed on the corner of his desk.
Knife's jacket was still there.
Trophy stared at it for a while.
For some reason, his mind went back to that night.
The kitchen.
The conversation.
Falling asleep at the table.
And waking up with Knife's jacket around him.
Trophy frowned.
It was weird.
He couldn't explain why, but there was something about having that jacket around him that night that had made him feel...
Comfortable.
He immediately hated that thought.
“It's just a jacket.”
He looked away.
A few seconds passed.
Then he looked back.
“...Fuck it.”
Trophy pushed himself out of bed and walked over to the desk.
He picked up the jacket, staring at it for a moment before sighing.
“Just for tonight.”
He slipped it on.
The familiar feeling came back almost immediately.
Warm.
Comfortable.
The same feeling he'd had that morning when he'd woken up with it around him.
Trophy stood there for a second.
“...Huh.”
He quickly shook his head.
Nope.
Not thinking about that.
He walked back to his bed, slipped underneath the blanket, and settled down.
The jacket stayed on.
And somehow, this time, sleep came much easier.
（〃｀ 3′〃）
The next morning, Trophy woke up half-buried in his blanket, the jacket still around him.
He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he pushed himself into a sitting position.
He stretched before getting out of bed and heading toward the door.
It wasn't until he was already halfway down the hallway that he realized he was still wearing Knife's jacket.
Trophy stopped.
He looked down at himself.
“...Oh.”
Right.
He was supposed to give this back.
Trophy sighed.
He'd do it now.
Simple.
He just needed to find Knife.
Which should've been easy.
It wasn't.
Trophy spent the next hour looking around the hotel.
He checked the kitchen.
Nothing.
The lounge.
Nothing.
The hallways.
Nothing.
He even checked outside, but Knife wasn't anywhere.
(duh duh duhhh)
“Where the hell is he...?”
Trophy crossed his arms, looking around.
Maybe Knife was with Mic.
Nope.
Maybe Pickle and Bomb.
Nope.
Trophy groaned.
How was it this difficult to find one person?
He went back inside and continued looking.
Every time he thought he'd finally find him, it was just someone else.
At one point, Trophy even walked past the same hallway three times before realizing it.
He stopped.
“...I'm not looking for him that hard.”
He immediately continued walking.
Another hour passed.
Still nothing.
Trophy eventually ended up back in the lobby, standing there with his hands shoved into the jacket's pockets.
His fingers brushed against the matchbox inside.
He paused.
He looked down at the jacket again.
“...I should probably just leave it somewhere.”
But then Knife would probably find it.
And then Trophy wouldn't have to—
Trophy stopped himself.
“No.”
He was giving it back.
That was the plan.
He just had to find Knife.
Eventually, he spotted Pickle walking past.
Trophy immediately walked over.
“Hey.”
Pickle looked at him.
“What?”
“Have you seen Knife?”
Pickle stared at the jacket.
Then at Trophy.
Then back at the jacket.
“Again?”
“Shut up.”
Pickle snorted.
“Yeah. He's out back of the hotel.”
Trophy blinked.
“...He's been there this whole time?”
“Apparently.”
Trophy stared at him for a second before sighing.
“Of course.”
He turned around and headed outside.
When he reached the back of the hotel, he finally saw Knife.
He was leaning against the wall, smoking and staring off into the distance.
Trophy slowed down as he approached.
He'd spent all morning looking for him.
And now that he'd finally found him...
He suddenly wasn't sure what to say.
“Uh...”
Knife glanced over.
His eyes immediately landed on the jacket.
A small smirk appeared on his face.
“Well, look who finally decided to find me.”
Trophy frowned.
“I've been looking for you all morning.”
Knife raised an eyebrow.
“For me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Trophy grabbed the edge of the jacket.
“To give this back.”
Knife looked at the jacket.
Then back at Trophy.
“Sure.”
Trophy narrowed his eyes.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Knife took another drag from his cigarette.
Trophy sighed and started pulling the jacket off.
“You know, you could've asked for this back.”
Knife looked at him.
“Could've.”
“...You're not going to?”
“Didn't say that.”
“Then what do you want?”
Knife shrugged.
“Keep it for now.”
Trophy blinked.
“...What?”
“You heard me.”
“But this is your jacket.”
“I know.”
“It's one of your favorites.”
“I know that too.”
Trophy stared at him, completely confused.
“Then why are you telling me to keep it?”
Knife shrugged again.
“Because I don't care.”
Trophy knew that was a lie.
Knife knew Trophy knew it was a lie.
And somehow, that made Trophy feel even more confused.
He slowly let go of the jacket.
“Whatever.”
Knife smirked.
Trophy looked away.
For some stupid reason, he felt... happy? 👀
He immediately hated that.
It was just a jacket.
That was all.
It didn't mean anything.
Definitely not.
A few seconds passed.
Knife looked him up and down.
“You look better in it anyway.”
Trophy froze.
“What?”
Knife's smirk widened.
“You heard me.”
Trophy's face immediately heated up.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Knife laughed.
“I didn't say anything bad.”
“You're annoying.”
“You've said that already.”
Trophy yanked the jacket off and threw it directly at him.
“TAKE YOUR STUPID JACKET!”
Knife caught it, laughing.
“Thought you wanted to keep it.”
“I changed my mind!”
“Sure you did.”
Trophy turned around and started walking away.
Behind him, Knife called out.
“See you later, goldie.”
“Fuck off!”
Knife just laughed.
And for some reason, Trophy couldn't stop himself from smiling a little as he walked away.
He immediately stopped.
His smile disappeared.
“...Nope.”
He shook his head.
Absolutely not.
ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ
For the rest of the day, Trophy tried not to think about what happened.
He failed.
Every few minutes, his mind went right back to it.
*Keep it for now.* (i forgot- do these get italizied?)
*You look better in it anyway.*
Trophy groaned and buried his face in his hands.
“Why did he have to say that...?”
It wasn't even that bad.
Knife said things like that all the time.
Probably just to annoy him.
That had to be it.
There was no other reason.
Trophy dropped his hands and stared at the wall.
“Yeah.”
He nodded to himself.
“That's all it was.”
A few seconds passed.
“...Definitely.”
He got up from his seat and walked away.
He needed something to do.
Anything.
φ(゜▽゜*)♪
Later that afternoon, Trophy found himself walking through the hotel again.
He wasn't looking for Knife.
Definitely not.
He was just walking.
That's it.
He passed the lounge.
No Knife.
The kitchen.
No Knife.
The hallway.
Still no Knife.
Trophy stopped.
“Why am I checking?”
He shook his head and continued walking.
He made it about ten steps before he heard a familiar voice behind him.
“Looking for someone?”
Trophy stopped dead.
He slowly turned around.
Knife was standing there.
“...No.”
Knife raised an eyebrow.
“Didn't ask if you were.”
Trophy frowned.
“Shut up.”
Knife smirked.
“There he is.”
Trophy rolled his eyes and started walking again.
Knife followed.
“Where're you going?”
“Somewhere you're not.”
“Sounds boring.”
“Then don't follow me.”
“I wasn't.”
“Then why are you following me?”
Knife shrugged.
“I'm going the same way.”
“You're literally walking behind me.”
“Coincidence.”
Trophy sighed.
He kept walking.
Knife stayed behind him.
After a few seconds, Trophy glanced back.
“You're still there.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because you're funny when you're annoyed.”
Trophy stopped walking.
Knife almost walked into him.
“...What?”
Knife grinned.
“You heard me.”
Trophy stared at him.
Then looked away.
“You're an idiot.”
“Probably.”
Trophy continued walking.
He could hear Knife laughing behind him.
And, annoyingly, Trophy couldn't stop the small smile from appearing on his face.
He immediately hid it.
φ(゜▽゜*)♪
That evening, Trophy was back in his room.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his desk.
The jacket wasn't there anymore.
He'd given it back.
It was supposed to be over.
So why did his room suddenly feel...
Different?
Trophy frowned.
He looked around.
Everything was the same.
His desk.
His bed.
His stuff.
Nothing had changed.
Except the jacket wasn't there.
“It's stupid.”
He fell backward onto his bed.
“It was literally just a jacket.”
He stared at the ceiling.
A few seconds passed.
Then he rolled onto his side.
He was quiet for a moment.
“...I could've just not given it back.”
Trophy immediately sat back up.
“No.”
He pointed at himself.
“Nope.”
He stood up.
“Not doing this.”
He started pacing around his room.
“It was comfortable.”
He paused.
“That's it.”
He continued pacing.
“That's literally all.”
He stopped again.
“And it smelled like—”
Trophy froze.
His face immediately went red.
“NOPE.”
He grabbed a pillow and threw it onto his bed.
“Absolutely not.”
He climbed back under his blanket and pulled it over his head.
He stayed like that for several minutes.
Eventually, he peeked out.
”Where did he put it...”
Trophy stared into the darkness.
Then immediately covered his face again.
“Why do I care?!”
φ(゜▽゜*)♪
The next morning, Trophy woke up feeling strangely annoyed.
He didn't know why.
He just was.
He got dressed, left his room, and headed downstairs.
As he entered the lobby, he spotted Knife.
And immediately noticed something.
Knife was wearing the jacket.
The same one.
The black leather jacket.
The matchbox was still in the pocket.
The little burn near the collar was still there.
Trophy stopped walking.
Knife noticed him.
“Morning.”
Trophy stared at the jacket.
“...You're wearing it.”
Knife looked down at himself.
“Yeah.”
Trophy looked away.
“Nothing.”
Knife smirked.
“You were staring.”
“I was not.”
“You were.”
“I was looking at the jacket.”
“That's usually what staring means.”
Trophy crossed his arms.
“Whatever.”
Knife walked past him.
As he did, Trophy caught the faint familiar smell of smoke from the jacket.
He stopped.
For some reason, that made his chest feel weird.
He immediately frowned.
Knife turned around.
“You coming?”
Trophy blinked.
“...Yeah.”
He followed.
They walked down the hallway together.
Neither of them said anything for a while.
Then Knife spoke.
“You really liked wearing it, huh?”
Trophy nearly tripped.
“What?”
“The jacket.”
“I didn't.”
Knife looked at him.
“Sure.”
“I didn't!”
“You kept it for days.”
“Because I forgot!”
“You searched the entire hotel for me.”
Trophy went silent.
Knife's smirk grew.
“Pretty dedicated for someone who 'forgot.'”
Trophy's face heated up.
“I was trying to give it back!”
“Eventually.”
“Yes!”
Knife laughed.
Trophy shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Whatever.”
A few more steps passed.
Then Knife spoke again.
“You can borrow it again if you want.”
Trophy looked at him.
“...What?”
Knife shrugged.
“I'm not using it all the time.”
Trophy stared at the jacket.
Then at Knife.
“Why?”
“Because.”
“That doesn't answer anything.”
Knife glanced at him.
“You looked comfortable.”
Trophy went quiet.
That was different from Knife's usual teasing.
There wasn't really a joke behind it.
He'd noticed.
He'd actually noticed.
Trophy looked away.
“...Maybe.”
Knife nodded.
“Maybe.”
They kept walking.
Trophy didn't ask to borrow it.
Knife didn't offer again.
But the rest of the day, Trophy couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said.
And later that night, when Knife left the jacket draped over the back of a chair in the lounge...
Trophy noticed.
He stared at it.
For a long moment.
Then he looked around.
Nobody was there.
Trophy walked over and picked it up.
He held it in his hands.
“...Just for a little bit.”
He slipped it on.
And this time, he didn't bother making an excuse.
Though just around the corner, Knife had snapped another picture of Trophy, catching the warm expression on his face as he got comfortable in the jacket.
It was almost like that night again.
Except this time, Trophy was wearing the jacket because he wanted to.
ヾ(•ω•`)o
Trophy walked around the hotel, taking pictures of the things he usually found appealing, this time while wearing Knife's jacket.
The familiar smell of smoke still lingered on the jacket.
Trophy noticed it.
He immediately ignored the thought and focused on his camera instead.
Knife spotted him from across the room, but didn't immediately say anything.
Trophy eventually noticed Knife staring at him, and immediately decided to pick another argument with the jerk.
They bickered for a while, although Knife kept bringing up the jacket.
“You know, you can just admit you like the thing.”
"What, fuck no. Just shut up already!"
"Getting defensive, hm?"
"You're an ass you know that."
"Mhm, and you're obsessed."
"Fuck off."
Trophy held the jacket close 2 himself, embarrassed and annoyed.
(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
Days passed once again.
Trophy had kept the jacket and continued wearing it.
He still got teased about it from Knife and got stares from others, but he didn't mind.
But while Trophy was walking back to his room, he spotted Knife from across the hall.
Knife called out to him, and the two met in the middle of the hall.
Knife looked down at his jacket, then at Trophy.
“Looks like you finally stopped trying to give it back.”
"Oh fuck off."
Knife laughed.
Trophy rolled his eyes and started walking again.
“You know,” Knife called after him, “you could've just asked to keep it.”
Trophy stopped.
He looked back at him.
“I didn't ask.”
“Didn't have to.”
Trophy stared at him for a second before looking away.
“...You're still an ass.”
Knife smirked.
“And you're still wearing my jacket.”
“Shut up.”