Chapter Text
Really, Daichi should have known all along that Sugawara had an ulterior motive when he offered to buy them both popsicles, but his post-practice exhausted haze makes him agree eagerly, not giving a second thought. He's overworked, and his breathing is still slightly heavy, so something cool is just what he needs.
As they exit Shimida Mart, his own popsicle drips yellow down the side of his hand, and he laps it up without a second thought. It’s newly summer. The cicadas hum all around them and clouds float lazily through the sky. In his peripheral, he notices Sugawara stifling a yawn.
“You worked hard today,” Sugawara observes, quiet. Neither of them mention the white elephant in the room; it had been their last team practice, more for fun than anything. Daichi had split his time evenly between talking to Ennoshita—which makes sense, granted that he’s their captain, now—and practicing hard .
Sweat drips down the back of his neck, and he wipes it away carelessly, flicking it into the dirt path below them.
“It was nice,” he agrees. “And it was nice of you to buy us these. It’s so hot ,” he says, groaning.
“It was?” Sugawara asks, the picture of innocence. Daichi knows he’s anything but innocent. They walk alongside each other, a small gap between them, and their popsicles drip on the dirt and on their shoes. “If you—wanted to carry me home, you know, I wouldn’t say no,” he continues, breaking into a crooked grin.
Daichi bridges said gap, a gentle shove of his own shoulder against Sugawara’s.
“Suga,” he chastises, only teasing. “You mean to tell me that you buttered me up for a simple piggyback ride?”
“I—” Sugawara hesitates, glancing towards him. “Did it work?”
“It worked,” Daichi allows. Though Sugawara certainly wouldn’t have had to buy him popsicles or compliment him in order for him to oblige, he keeps that to himself.
He crouches, holding both of their dripping popsicles in his hands, as Sugawara wraps his legs around his torso, reaching down for his own popsicle. It drips just in front of where Daichi walks, and he takes a momentary step backwards.
“This is good,” Sugawara sighs, resting his chin atop Daichi’s head. “Much less tiresome this way.”
“For one of us,” Daichi teases, though he continues onward dutifully. Sugawara keeps one arm draped over his chest, the other holding his now-finished popsicle. If Daichi is still, he can hear Sugawara's quiet, even breathing.
And, while this may be the last time they walk home from high school together, their lives are really only beginning, in more ways than one.