Archive of Our Own

It all started with an email.

And at first, it didn't bother him. Not consciously, anyway. Maybe there was this tiny spark of an upset feeling that would occasionally grow into something far more annoying, but that was it.

They exchanged messages all the time, after all. It was just natural because that’s what most friends did. When they were within each other’s reach they wouldn’t text so much because well, texting was a pain. It diverted him from more interesting things such as the new snack he’d managed to buy at the nearest convenience store to the dorms. Moreover, he never really knew what to say. Or rather, he didn’t need to say much anyway, because his friend did a good job reading him—and reading between the lines—, which ultimately saved him a lot of effort.

For that, he was truly grateful.

But then college life got in the way—what was to be expected, since there was a small age gap between them—and so texting became more frequent. He usually wouldn’t start it and most times he would simply send a short reply composed by a few words and emojis. More often than not, he would send nothing but emojis. Very often, he wouldn’t reply right away because his fingers would be salty and oily from handling potato chips. Still, they would keep in touch. They actually had kept in touch even when the distance grew bigger.

And so, that email happened.

It wasn’t something that would keep them from talking or anything. But it turned out to be the beginning of a time which was a real pain.

Murasakibara wished he knew better before he gave himself the trouble of letting that get to his brain.

And, worse, of letting that get to his troublesome heart.

“Murasakibara-kun, are you okay? You seem a little distressed…”

It took him a couple of seconds to lift his eyes from the mobile phone in his hand to his classmate. The girl looked genuinely worried and he was almost surprised by that. He had been attending Culinary Arts School for about six months then, and by that time he could say he got along with most of his classmates what, judging from his elementary and middle school experience, was a win. As expected, at first he had had some difficulty fitting in. The majority of the class was composed of women, so not only did he stand out for being above average when it came to height, he also did for being male. Curiously, that had led the other few male students to approach him, in spite of their obvious fear. That was likely what brought the attention of the girls to the three of them, and in time people learned he wasn’t a mean person—really, he wouldn’t crush anyone unless they really asked for it, as even getting into fights was way too troublesome. They also learned he was one of the most talented students in their class. While having people wanting to be his work partners because they knew he was the best bothered him somewhat, he could say he was glad for being far from the irksome feeling being the isolated kid everyone pointed out had caused him earlier in life.

He sort of owed his distant friend his ability to mix and mingle better now. Although he had never voiced it, he kind of admired how the other was able to draw people to him and yet keep them at a safe distance unless he wanted them to cross that line and get closer to him.

Thinking about it had always given Murasakibara the feeling he was the only one at Yosen allowed to cross that line. And, if he were to be honest with himself, he would admit that notion had always made him feel sort of happy.

So maybe, yes, there was this tiny little chance he was distressed now.

“Hm? Yeah,” he drawled, regaining his bored semblance. “I’m fine.”

“Haha i-is that so? I’m glad then.” She seemed a bit flustered. As much as people felt okay approaching him, apparently, they were still worried they would say the wrong thing and awake the titan’s wrath.

He thought maybe he should smile at her in an attempt to reassure her, but then he decided against it. Smiles were not his thing. They worked just fine for his friend, but not for him.

So he went with a nod and waited for her to go back to her seat before he threw his mobile another glance.

Yeah, smiles worked just fine for him.

Murasakibara had no idea why that was bothering him so much this time.

From: Murochin
Subject: I met your senpai

Hey, Atsushi, how is it going? I hope you’re fine and keeping healthy habits despite the bunch of junk you eat. Haha

You won’t believe who I met by total chance today. Take a look.

Below the paragraphs was a photo of a familiar smiling Tatsuya Himuro accompanied by an also familiar grumpy-faced Shuuzou Nijimura.

As usual, there wasn’t much more than a line and a signature, since Himuro probably knew by then it was no use writing lengthy emails when he would be lucky if he got a full line as a response. Whenever he wanted to chat with Murasakibara, they would do so by video calls.

For some reason, despite having a lot of friends where he currently lived, he would still find the time to call his former basketball partner quite often.

Murasakibara didn’t have any complaints about that, actually. He would take his lazy ass all the way to America to crush his friend if he ever dared forget about him, so he was glad that hadn't happened so far.

Eight months had passed since Himuro had packed his stuff and returned to the country he’d learned to call his homeland, and yet, Murasakibara could barely feel the distance. For reasons unknown to him, Himuro seemed keen to spoil him even from the distance. Their former teammates would always make fun of them and claim the older ace was an incurable mother hen when it came to him. That hadn’t changed after Himuro graduated from high school and moved from Akita to Tokyo to attend college.

It was still the same now and it had been like that for the past eight months, after Himuro’s decision to move back to America because he definitely couldn’t adjust to Japanese customs, no matter what. And well, because an acceptance letter from UCLA isn’t something you turn down.

Since nothing had changed between them, he had received that message.

Isn’t this a small world?

As he read that last line, his eyes moved to the weird signature he was already used to.

Yours, Tatsuya.

Himuro had never explained why he would sign his over informal messages with such a formal and strange wording. In fact, he had never even explained why he would rather send emails than talk to Murasakibara through instant messaging. But then again, he could be quite the eccentric one, though only the closest people to him actually knew that.

The signature alone had subjected Murasakibara to countless thoughts and foreign sensations. At first, he had just stared at the phone and concluded Murochin was the weirdest guy ever and America was probably to blame. Then he assumed that was a standard signature his friend always forgot to edit—or saved himself the trouble of doing so, something Murasakibara couldn’t really condemn him for. That led him to realize if that was the case, then a lot of people received messages from Himuro containing the same ending. Murasakibara was particularly displeased by the thought of a certain Kagami Taiga receiving messages signed as “Yours, Tatsuya.”

There had also been this occasion he tried not to think about because, well, he had been nap-deprived all day long and had gone to bed far later than he was used to, which explained a lot. On that very day, he had received an email from Himuro just when he was going to bed. He had thrown himself in his Californian king-size bed and checked the message through tiny eyes and between subsequent yawns.

It was just some of those messages they would usually exchange, and he was so replying that with nothing more than emojis because “sorry, Murochin, I’m too sleepy to think straight”.

That was the message Himuro would have to read between the lines of a few emojis, of course.

And then, just after he had hit a quick reply, his eyes darted to the recognizable signature.

In setting his phone aside, placing it on the desk beside his bed without effort, he had mumbled to himself, “Mine.”

He blamed his sleepy state and the whole pack of liqueur-filled chocolates he had had just before going to his room.

Why else would that mumbling have been followed by a goofy smile and the unavoidable thought he later refused to bring back to mind?

My Murochin.

Seriously, why else?

While most of his friends would probably say and think otherwise, Murasakibara wasn’t a territorial person. Not outside the basketball court, anyway. It was already too much of a pain spending the whole length of a game protecting his defensive zone, therefore, he saw no point in doing that any place else. Truth is he usually didn’t need to, for his unusual height alone would often be enough to keep people away from his stuff and personal space.

Perhaps he was a bit possessive about his food, but who could really blame him? He might get slightly territorial for that sake, but apart from that, he deemed himself as pretty chill. He had to be that way, for anything other than that would be too troublesome.

Therefore, he had never really been possessive or anything of the kind when it came to people. For a long time in his life he couldn’t even say he had close friends, so being attached wasn’t a choice to start with. Even back at Teikou, where he had had the closest thing to a friendship he had ever experienced thus far, things quickly got rather messed up and he doubted any of his fellow Miracles would label what they had as a proper friendship.

At Yosen there was some improvement, for a guy named Tatsuya Himuro entered in his life. He had tried out of habit to keep the other ace away, but there was this thing about Himuro.

He drew people to him but kept them at a safe distance unless he wished otherwise.

And apparently, he had wanted Murasakibara to walk past the barrier leading to him.

For Murasakibara it turned out to be a good thing. He didn’t need to go beyond his own limits to communicate with Himuro. He was undeniably pampered by the other and who could really blame him for enjoying that? In his defense, he could always claim the bribery involved in their unusual kouhai-senpai relationship benefitted both.

In time, though, it was clear to him the main reason he also enjoyed being around Himuro was that they seemed to understand each other at a level that didn’t require words. Fine, sometimes Himuro would show sides of him Murasakibara didn’t think he would ever get. But he learned to respect those aspects just as he was respected for some of his own eccentricities by the other. No questions asked.

Yet, he hadn’t ever felt any sort of possessive feeling towards Himuro. He didn’t need to give it much thought; in fact, he didn’t need to give it any thoughts at all. He trusted his friend and their bond. There was nothing that could threaten that.

Except for that message, which eventually made him question things he had never even taken the chance to think about.

The problem is, the email was only the beginning.

Their next video call happened two days after he received the email. They had exchanged a few messages during those days, and Himuro would always mention something about Nijimura in them. Aside from the fact that both his senpais had happened to meet each other by chance, though, Murasakibara didn’t think there was anything out of ordinary about that.

It might have made him lift a brow in surprise checking his social media account not long after and learning Nijimura was then another one of his and Himuro’s mutual friends.

Then again, he was aware Himuro might even add people he didn’t know because you never know. If they seem to be nice, you can always end up being friends with them. “Socializing is important, Atsushi.”

It shouldn’t be surprising, in the end.

For some unknown reason, however, it kind of was.

“Hey ya, Atsushi!”

“Murochin, hi.” Eyes directed to the full-screen view of his former partner, he raised his hand and gave him a faint wave.

In occasions like this, Murasakibara realized they were indeed worlds apart. Not only boring timezones kept their places from being in the same wavelength, but also, there would be times like this when their clothes alone could tell they were in different realities, regardless of being in the same hemisphere.

On that day, for instance, he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants while the guy on the screen looked like the very advertisement of the summer season. Himuro had the Lakers jersey he probably wore as a pajama piece on and the exposed parts of his skin were illuminated by the natural sunlight coming through the window behind him.

Miles apart.

“Sorry I couldn’t connect earlier. I did set my alarm clock but I couldn’t bring my eyes to open when it was still dark outside. I know it’s already late over there, so it’s okay if you want to hang up.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I was up studying.”

“Eating cake doesn’t qualify as studying, just so you know.”

Himuro smiled at him—or rather, at the screen, but who cares?—and he couldn’t help but giggle. There was something nice about how sleepy Himuro himself seemed to be, eyes somewhat sullen, both visible since his hair was tousled and it was hard to tell he had bangs to start with. It was early morning in LA, and Murasakibara wasn’t oblivious to the fact his friend was up so early for his sake.

Weird as it was, it made him feel funny. A good kind of funny, that is.

“I was seriously studying though. Anyway, how are you, Murochin?”

He knew the question would lead Himuro to do most of the talk and he didn’t mind that, not a single bit. He could probably listen to his friend talk for hours and while he might fall asleep at some point, it wasn’t because Himuro was any boring. Actually, it was because his voice could be soothing, somehow. It gave him a sense of peace, as weird as that may be.

Before he could get a reply though, he watched as the screen went yellow and purple, in motion. Next, he saw a sink, a tile which he assumed was part of a refrigerator and white cupboards. Himuro popped into view again the next second.

“Can you hear me just fine?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

“Hm, yeah.”

“Alright. I’ll go talking to you while I prepare breakfast, then. Living alone here feels different, I don’t know why.”

“You bought food in the cafeteria before.”

“Oh, that’s right. I didn’t use to get to test my cooking skills. I’ll tell you what, Atsushi… Cooking is hard.” He was moving around the kitchen, his back turned to the laptop. He was at ease as he would be if Murasakibara were actually there, with no screen and oceans between them. That made Murasakibara feel as though he was sitting right in Himuro’s kitchen, observing his moves and hesitation as he seemed to try to recollect which ingredients he needed in the first place.

Adding a touch of teasing to his usual drawl, he replied at last, “Not really.”

“Ohh screw you, Master Chef! Not everyone is aiming to be a pro at that!” He had turned on his heels, a coffee beans pack in one hand and a coffee pot in the other. Murasakibara barely withheld a smirk.

“Heh.” Leaning against the chair, he added, “You know, Murochin… last time I checked you couldn’t even make scrambled eggs.”

“Just watch me.”

As a matter of fact, Murasakibara was watching him. He was curious about his choice of food since he hadn’t spotted peanut butter, cereals or even eggs—not so far—on the counter behind the raven-haired beauty. He’d assumed those were what people ate in America.

Getting away with observing his friend so freely was amusing, so Murasakibara allowed himself as much.

“Say, Murochin… What did you want to talk about?”

Sometimes, reading Himuro wasn’t as easy as the other way around seemed to be. But because it was him, Murasakibara was fine with asking.

“Hm? Oh, well…” Setting a frying pan on the stove, he replied, sounding distracted, “nothing in particular. It’s just that I’d rather decipher your expressions, every now and then. Deciphering emojis isn’t as easy.”

“Hm.” He gave that some thought. “You can’t read my expressions if you have your back turned to me, though.”

Busted.

“Alright, you’ve got a point.” He faced the screen and Murasakibara could see he was smiling. “Well, I can’t text and cook at the same time, right? Oh, and besides… I didn’t get to tell you about Shuuzou’s misadventures in Cali. Fine, I’ll tell you as I fix the world’s yummiest scrambled eggs.”

Shuuzou.

Murasakibara was sure the pang he felt was due to an uninvited and unexplainable hunger that only the sight of food could cause him. He opened one of the drawers of his desk and fumbled for a pack of umaibo.

Giving the snack a hungry bite, he pretended to ignore the view of Himuro shaking his head in a mix of disapproval and beguilement.

“So,” the raven-haired man started, turning to the stove again. “His bad luck struck him the moment he stepped into the airport, it seems.”

Himuro talked as though he was storytelling, adding details to the summarized version of the facts he had already told Murasakibara about through email. While the younger listened, all it took him were mumblings which would prompt the other to keep on talking.

He ate at least three chocolate bars while listening and did munch them harder whenever he heard Himuro refer to his Teikou acquaintance as Shuuzou. Still, he refused to give that much thought.

It was easy to tell trying to figure out what bothered him so much about what Himuro was saying would lead to trouble. He wasn’t in the mood for that.

“... And that’s where we are now. He still hasn’t retrieved his luggage, so we’re meeting up today after I’m outta class. I’ll escort him to the shopping mall since he needs to buy some basic stuff. Maybe we’ll get to play basketball after that. Sounds fun, right?”

“Not really.” While that sort of response would usually be fake, this time there was no feigning in his tone.

If Himuro noticed that, he pretended not to.

“C’mon! If you were here I’m sure you’d join us.”

“No way.”

“If you say so…” Plate served, a filled mug in his hand and a satisfied smile on his lips, Himuro faced him again by turning around and approaching the computer, sitting closer to it. “Anyway, you should come visit me sometime.”

“Too far.”

“Can’t deny that.”

“Besides, I don’t speak English.”

“That’s not an actual problem.”

“Also, airplanes can be uncomfortable.”

“That I can’t counter.” He sipped on his coffee, his eyes focused on the screen. “But it would be cool hanging out with you here, Atsushi.”

For some weird reason, Murasakibara had the feeling he was about to blush. He averted his gaze by reflex.

“Maybe.”

Himuro’s laughter sounded a bit metallic through the speakers and brought his attention back to the screen. Fork raised, his good-looking friend said, “I promise to fix the world’s yummiest scrambled eggs for you.”

“Fine. I might go someday, then.”

Himuro sent down a mouthful of the promised dish before he replied.

“It’s a date.”

As the days passed by, Murasakibara grew certain that the one who stood a better chance to prove Himuro’s alleged world’s yummiest scrambled eggs was Nijimura.

He wasn’t a fan of social media and usually didn’t spend more than a few minutes scrolling the news feed. While that remained true, the contents of his feed had suffered a slight but significant change in the past few days.

Among the countless Kise Ryouta’s selfies, basketball-related posts, and videos and pictures of food, he would now find a stunning number of check-ins, text posts and photos featuring Himuro and Nijimura.

They had become close buddies in less than a month and, for reasons Murasakibara was still choosing to ignore, the sight of those made something inside of him boil.

He wanted to save himself from such bother. He really did.

Life apparently had other plans for him, though.

“Say, say, Megumi-chan… Do you think Nakamura-senpai and Haruto-senpai are dating?”

“Eeeh?! Where did that come from?” Failing to be as discreet as her friend, the girl named Megumi brought Murasakibara attention to the girls’ talk.

“Didn’t you hear? They have been hanging out together almost every day after class. And Aiko-chan told me she ran into them when she was shopping in Ikebukuro last weekend.”

“Reaaally?”

Realizing gossip about their senpais wasn’t really his topic of choice, Murasakibara urged himself to focus on the recipe in front of him. He’d been particularly waiting for that class. Learning how to prepare foreign desserts had a special appeal to him.

Their chit-chat was making it hard for him to enjoy his time, though.

“Yes. Also, it seems they’re on a first-name basis. It must be serious!”

“Waaa, I’m so jealous!”

Taking a pot of salt instead of sugar and not even realizing his blunder, the otherwise diligent student was suddenly bothered by an uncalled recollection.

Nijimura had tagged Himuro in a post that morning (or afternoon, in their current time zone).

In that post, he had addressed his new friend by a particular name Murasakibara hadn’t ever considered calling him.

Nijimura had called him Tatsuya.

Three weeks passed since the email arrived in his mailbox. He and Himuro hadn't exchanged many messages in the past few days but he didn’t need those to know what was going down somewhere across the globe.

For one, he knew Nijimura had already retrieved his belongings. He was also aware his former team captain had gone from Nijimura—if he had ever been called so—to simply Shuu.

Meanwhile, his feelings had gone from slight disturbance to absolute bother.

He tried telling himself that he didn’t care. If he repeated that enough, eventually, it would come true.

However, it was not working. Not so far. And he was getting tired of the dangerous paths his mind was taking by its own will.

He had been asking himself questions he had never even thought about. He was becoming aware of things that didn’t use to matter.

It was a real drag.

As if all of those questions, mental pictures and ghosts of a social media cluttered with posts about Himuro and Nijimura’s close relationship wasn’t enough, life decided to give him another push.

Or maybe, it was just that his current classmates weren’t the only ones so invested in gossips about the social lives of their senpais.

Whatever the reason, all he knew was that he had been having a pleasant evening, trying to perfect the dessert he had ruined during class a while ago, when his mobile started buzzing in the other room. He would have simply ignored it, but the intermittent noise bothered him to a point he just had to go mute the device.

Murasakibara was surprised to find out the reason of such disturbing drone as he saw his mobile screen filled with notifications.

Minechin: @kagachin who knew, huh, Bakagami? Your brother and Nijimura? I thought he would end up with… nevermind.

Midochin: It seems I forgot to quit this group. I will be leaving now, so excuse me.

Takachin: Bwahahaha @midochin honestly, Shin-chan! Why would you send that message when you're not quitting at all? I can see you staring at your phone~

Midochin: Shut up, Takao.

Minechin: speaking of lovebirds… Gross.

Murasakibara sat down on the sofa before checking the newest replies. That chat group had been created at some point when they were still high schoolers. It had been silent for months, perhaps over a year now. Some of the members tried to keep in touch, but life and responsibilities had happened to all of them. Also, it wasn't like most of them knew how to keep a proper conversation. So, in time, the chat group had been forgotten.

Until now.

Kagachin: oi, Aho, u bastard! What’s that ur saying about Tatsuya?

He squinted as he waited for Aomine’s reply to pop up on the screen. He was also curious. And, truth be told, he was annoyed by what had been implied so far.

At that point, it was hard to ignore the disturbing throb on his chest. Or the fact that somebody had turned some of his bothersome thoughts into words.

Takachin: Always the dense one, Kagami.

Minechin: Right? He’s slow as fuck. Ain’t you checking your FB lately?

Kurochin: Good evening, everyone. How have you been doing?

Kurochin: Aomine-kun, I never expected you to be a gossiper. I must say I am surprised and disappointed.

Midochin: It does not please me, but I must agree with Kuroko.

Minechin: Ain’t u quitting the chat, Midorima?

Minechin: @kurochin I’m no gossiper, Tetsu. I’m just not blind as Bakagami.

Kagachin: wanna come say that to my face, bastard!?

Minechin: I don’t hang out with losers.

Kurochin: Taiga-kun, please be careful. You’re going to break your phone.

Takachin: Bwahahaha man, you guys are still so funny. I miss you, we should meet up.

Takachin: Also, Shin-chan says he’s in.

Midochin: Stop spreading lies, Kazunari.

Takachin: Ohh? I thought you said you wouldn’t call me Kazunari in public?

Takachin: I guess that doesn’t apply to social media~ :win:

Kurochin: I assume your relationship is going well, @takachin and @midochin. I’m happy for you. By the way, how is Kise-kun doing, @minechin?

Midochin: I am at last quitting this nonsense. Goodbye.

Minechin: Kise is fine. Damn, how did we all end up dating dudes?

Takachin: Maybe it was something contagious Kagami brought from America? Lolol

Takachin: I’ll be out, guys. I have to convince Shin-chan not to quit the group. He’s just being a tsundere as usual.

Takachin: Laterz!

His fingers ghosted over the screen, as he debated whether or not he should join the conversation. They were no longer talking about Himuro, so he could just ignore the whole thing.

It was none of his business anyway.

Glaring at the chat box, he let his broad shoulders slump. No new messages were popping up. At last, he decided to shut off the app and resume his offline activities.

He was halfway to the kitchen when he heard the phone buzz again.

“What a drag.”

Going against his best judgment, he turned around and picked the device.

A new email notification was displayed on the screen.

From: Murochin
Subject: Just checking on you

Hey there, Atsushi!

It’s been a while. Just wondering how you’ve been doing?

I’ve been pretty busy with college lately. Exams are around the corner. There’s no rest for the wicked, it seems.

Anyway, just send me an emoji or anything so that I know you’re safe and sound, okay?

Yours,
Tatsuya

He read the message twice and didn’t fight the smile that ultimately curved up the corner of his lips.

He could take that as a proof of Himuro missing him, right?

Why did that make him feel so ecstatic? Why did that sole realization send a wave down his stomach, a strange twirling which made the whole nonsense of butterflies in the tummy suddenly make sense to him?

He wasn’t the impulsive type. On the contrary, he’d rather take his time as much as he could and that didn’t go well with impulsiveness.

This time, though, his hands acted before his brain could process what was going on.

He didn't give himself time to calculate time difference or anything. Next thing he knew, he was waiting for Himuro to pick a video call he had started.

“Atsushi? Is everything okay?”

The worried voice of his friend reached his ears before he could take back what he was doing. A few seconds later the dark screen gave way to the view of a clearly preoccupied Himuro.

As his action finally sunk in, he blinked and nodded before asking, “Did I wake you up?”

“No, not really. I was about to go to bed, actually.”

“I see.”

He hadn't planned this. Watching the puzzled face of his friend across the screen, he wondered what explanation he could possibly give.

Truth is, he wanted to put an end to that annoyance.

He wanted to know if the rumors were true.

The fact that he had called out of sudden was likely surprising enough. However, he knew it was something in his expression what was giving him away when Himuro asked, “Atsushi? What’s the matter?”

He could almost feel the words forming, rushing upwards with the breath from his lungs. They were on the tip of his tongue and they felt real.

Murochin, are you dating Nijimura?

Different words left his lips, though.

“Hm? Didn’t you ask, Murochin?”

Himuro blinked in confusion.

“What? Sorry, you’re not making any sense. Have you hit your head or something?”

He sighed loudly, faking an exasperation he didn’t feel.

“I am safe and sound,” he said matter-of-factly, as though that explained everything.

It still took Himuro a second to understand the meaning of his statement. When he did, Murasakibara could see the relief on his face.

“Oh. And let me guess, you were too lazy to hit an emoji reply?”

“Sorta.”

“Well, you surprised me.”

“Heh,” he chortled, rather pleased with himself.

Even though he had started the call, as usual, Himuro led it by asking him the same questions as ever and doing most of the talk. This time, there was no mention of Nijimura. Perhaps, thanks to that, he almost forgot his initial intention.

Maybe he didn’t need to know.

Maybe there was nothing to know.

Talking to Himuro and seeing him, even if through a tiny screen, was so refreshing he didn’t want to spoil that.

“Alright,” Himuro said with a yawn. “Time to go. I thought I was dreaming when I saw you calling, but since I’m actually awake… it’s time I caught some shut-eye.”

The smile he witnessed made his heart beat so frantically he nearly clutched his t-shirt chest-level.

“…Okay. Sleep well, Murochin.”

“Thanks.” Himuro seemed to hesitate, then simply added, “Good night, Atsushi.”

As the call was over, Murasakibara slouched on the couch. The cogs in his brain were turning, his thoughts spinning fast for once. Even if he tried his best, it wasn’t like he could completely ignore the turmoil inside of him.

“I like Murochin.”

No surprise came as his own words reached his ears. He let them hover in the air, echoing in his mind until they settled back into his heart.

As it were, maybe, Nijimura posed a problem to him.

What a pain.

Four weeks after he had received the email, Murasakibara stumbled upon something far more unsettling.

He had already decided not to do a thing about his recently admitted feelings. Doing anything about them would likely wind up ruining everything he and Himuro had. He didn’t want to wreck their friendship. He didn’t want to deal with any of that.

Also, he had seen Himuro turn down several people. He had been a close witness to the recurrent scene of his friend apologizing and refusing love letters and date invitations with a smile.

He had zero intentions of earning that smile, in all honesty.

Besides, he had the feeling he wasn't fit for relationships of that kind. Up to that point, he had never felt that sort of drive for anyone. Even after acknowledging the nature of his feelings for Himuro, he still found the idea of going as far as to kiss him rather strange. All in all, he saw no problem in keeping things as they were. As long as he had Himuro in his life, that would suffice.

At least, that’s how it was supposed to be.

Since the doomed email had reached his inbox, though, it seemed every single thing was spinning out of control.

Murasakibara was sure of that the moment he ran out of gummy bears on his way home. It was rush hour and, for a change, he was almost being crushed by a sea of people in a ridiculously packed train wagon. That and the lack of snacks to chew on plummeted his mood in a matter of seconds. Being self-conscious of the danger his current state of mind represented to the people surrounding him, he thought it better to try and distract himself with something else.

He should have known nothing could replace snacks in his life.

He also should have known struggling to check on his mobile was a bad idea.

Most of all, he should have known checking his social media would be like setting a time bomb.

Even if he had, however, nothing could have had him prepared for what popped up in his news feed as a neon sign.

It hit him like a merciless blow to the stomach. In fact, it nearly made him bend forward as though it had caused him physical pain.

In a way, it had. Especially because he could find no other explanation for the implied meaning of that.

He sensed rather than saw people withdraw, finding a way to step away from him somehow. He knew he looked frightening. He recognized the burning feeling in his stomach.

Reading the post yet again, he gripped the small device tighter in his hand.

Shuuzou Nijimura posted:

Who knew it would take a long ride for me to find the meaning of love?
I finally get it. Being so far away from home opened my eyes.
Hopefully, I won’t be rejected.

That had to be about who he thought it was. Why else would Nijimura highlight the fact that he was away from home?

As though searching for clues that would prove his theory right—or, hopefully, wrong—he gave Himuro’s profile a quick check.

The latest post didn’t help solve the mystery, but it did make the ache stronger.

Tatsuya Himuro tagged Shuuzou Nijimura in a post:

Tickets for my fave band’s concert next weekend ☑
Thanks, Shuu! Now we’re really even.
Let's rock! \m/

The comments that followed only suggested they were far closer than most people ever were after being friends for less than thirty days.

They made Murasakibara sick.

And then, they had him make a detour.

“Murasakibara!?”

Not in the slightest mood to deal with the exaggerated reaction he had been greeted with, he barely lifted a brow in response.

Then he remembered he sort of needed that person’s help, so he’d better be at least polite.

“Kagachin.” He raised his palm. “Is Kurochin there?”

Even though he wasn’t there for his friend, he had the feeling Kagami wouldn't be as cooperative if Kuroko weren’t around.

Kagami seemed to process his words slowly, as he recovered from the shock of seeing him by his doorstep. Granted, it had been forever since they've seen each other. It probably had happened while Himuro was still in the country.

Urgent matters called for emergency measures, though.

“Hm yes, he is,” Kagami scratched the back of his head, then added, “Uh… Come in.”

As expected, Murasakibara got a warmer reception from Kuroko, who didn’t seem any surprised by his unannounced visit. Then again, Kuroko was quite the discrete type.

“Murasakibara-kun, it’s good to see you,” his blue-eyed friend said as they sat down on the large couch in Kagami’s spacious living room. Nigou had been quick to also greet him by barking, wagging his tail and ultimately making of his lap a seat.

“Good to see you too. Kurochin is still small and cute as ever.”

His mood seemed to have improved simply by his being there. So much so he reached out to mess up Kuroko’s light-blue locks. Kuroko dodged him and gave him that sort of composed glare he also found cute.

“Please, don’t get started, Murasakibara-kun.”

He shrugged and settled with patting Nigou’s head in lieu of his owner’s.

Kagami had gone to the kitchen to get them beverages and homemade cookies at Kuroko’s request. As they waited for the redhead to return, they talked amenities. Kuroko filled him in about his routine as a college student, and told him a bit about their mutual Teikou former teammates, since he had been in touch with most of them recently. He learned that Aomine and Kise had moved in together the week before and that Kuroko and Kagami were planning to do the same. As it were, Kuroko explained, he already spent most of his time out of university at Kagami’s. It seemed after the redhead had taken the opposite route of his brother and come back to Japan to be with his former basketball partner, they couldn’t seem to be apart anymore.

So far, it had puzzled Murasakibara. He didn’t understand why most of his friends had gone down the love route. He didn’t get how the fine line between friendship and romantic love got trespassed as though there was no other course they could take. So far, it had been hard for him to wrap around his head any explanation as to why people needed to stay close to each other.

And now, here he was. He could almost sympathize with Kagami. It seemed only natural that his best friend’s so-called brother had given up his future in the States to be with Kuroko.

Somewhere deep down inside him, he almost wished Himuro would do the same for him.

Keeping his unsettling thoughts locked within himself and safely hidden by his boredom facade, Murasakibara did most of the listening part, just as he used to. Truth is, he was saving himself for the moment he would actually have to talk.

Although there was still time to give up on that.

If only giving up didn't feel like losing! He hated losing more than anything. And he was sure he was going to lose if he didn't do what he had to do.

So he waited until Kagami had joined them and made sure his craving for sweets had started being satisfied—bless the yummy cookies and the vanilla shake he’d been offered—before he brought up the reason for his sudden visit.

“Kagachin, I need you to take me to America.”

It took Kagami a good two seconds to register his words.

“Sure… Wait- what!?”

“You heard me,” unaffected, he filled his mouth with a couple of cookies, being quick enough not to let a sneaky Nigou snatch them from him.

“Oi! I’m not a travel agent. What’s with that request!?”

“Murasakibara-kun,” Kuroko calmly savored his shake before he asked, “does that have to do with Himuro-san?”

It was no surprise that Kuroko had realized that much. Unwilling to give everything away, and because he knew saying he wanted to crush Nijimura wouldn’t help much, he resorted to shrugging.

“It might.”

“What are you two talking about? What about Tatsuya?” Kagami threw them a confused look, then sighed. “Don’t tell me it’s about that Aho’s nonsense again.”

Kuroko gave his partner a weird glance which didn’t escape Murasakibara’s notice. Despite being annoyed, he thought it better not to pry.

“That has been clarified, remember? Besides, I suppose Murasakibara-kun has his own reasons. Am I right?”

In a way, talking to Kuroko was a lot like talking with Himuro. Sometimes, they both would pretend they didn’t know what went unsaid. Or rather, they would pretend not to notice there was a whole book to be read between the lines but would still read it. Silence tells more, after all.

Obviously, that knowledge meant nodding and keeping his mouth shut and focused on crunching cookies was communicative enough.

Kagami probably dared to disagree. Or so his funny furrowed brows suggested.

“Is that right, Gluttony?”

“Heh. Look who’s talking.” Keeping his usual drawl, he asked, “So, Kagachin. Will you help me or not?”

“Hey, is that how you ask for a favor!? Listen up, Murasakibara. Money doesn’t grow on trees. I have a life, you know? No way in hell I’m babysitting you like Tatsuya does.”

“Murochin doesn’t babysit me.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

They exchanged a glare which sort of forced Kuroko to intervene.

“Taiga-kun, Murasakibara-kun. Nagging at one another will not take any of you anywhere.”

“I know that! He’s the one who started with the crap.”

“Kagachin, are you a kid?”

“No, idiot! And stop calling me weird nicknames!”

Kuroko sighed, loud enough to make them both look at him. Maybe he was the one playing babysitter, after all.

“We’re going to help you. I am afraid asking for Taiga-kun to take you all the way there is unreasonable, but I am sure he will love to give you some helpful tips.”

“Oi, don’t go deciding things for me, Tetsuya!”

“Will that do, Murasakibara-kun?”

In all fairness, he was sure spending hours in the same airplane as Kagami would have them both kicked out of it during the flight. So he took what he could get—the safer option.

“Hm, sure. Thanks, Kurochin.”

Ignoring all of Kagami’s loud protests, Kuroko was quick to take a notebook and jot down a list of things he assumed would be useful for a solo international traveler. The last item read “Directions to Himuro-san’s place.”

Murasakibara took a mental note to bring vanilla cupcakes on his next visit.

Next, the bluenette urged his boyfriend to translate some of the phrases he had written, and save all of that info in an electronic format. He even convinced Kagami to record some of the words and phrases in English so that he could send the audio clips to Murasakibara.

The things we do for love…

“Say, who confessed to the other first? Kurochin or Kagachin?”

There was a hint of surprise in Kuroko’s eyes as he looked at Murasakibara. Kagami, always the obvious one, gasped in the middle of recording “Take me to this address… please.”

Finally, Kuroko answered, “I did. Taiga-kun is really slow, he might not have realized how I felt if I hadn’t told him.”

“Hm. Makes sense.”

“Oi!”

Thoughtful, Murasakibara scratched Nigou’s ear, watching as the dog stretched and adjusted his position in his human seat. The pet was no longer the small puppy he had been during his owner’s high school years, but he was still cute, Murasakibara noted. Also, he didn’t have to worry about stuff such as being in love and the like.

What a lucky being.

“Were you afraid he would reject you?” He addressed the question to Kuroko without moving his gaze from the pup.

He knew Kuroko would get any implications of the question either way.

“Yes. A little bit, at least. By that time I was almost sure my feelings were reciprocated. I just didn’t know whether Taiga-kun would be willing to act on them.” He threw the redhead a fond glance and received a similar one in return. “I was also scared that might ruin our friendship.”

At that, Murasakibara nodded. Apparently, those kinds of concerns were ordinary. Not that knowing it made his personal situation less uncomfortable to him.

“I’m glad I confessed,” Kuroko continued. “Even if Taiga-kun had rejected me, I guess I would have felt relieved by telling him how I really felt. We are partners and friends first and foremost. I wouldn’t want to betray his trust.”

“As if I would have rejected you, idiot.”

Watching their interaction, Murasakibara felt a mix of jealousy and awkwardness. New emotions kept surfacing and he wanted to believe that all was nothing but a pain, but he found it hard to do.

Being in love wasn’t entirely bad, in the end.

“Get a room!” he drawled, his annoyance only partially true.

Surprisingly, the pair chuckled and replied in one voice, “Sorry.”

“Okay, let’s wrap this up.” Kagami got his attention back to the notes written by his partner.

By the time Murasakibara went home, he had more than enough tips to help him get where his heart drove him to be.

The flight tickets were bought before he could get some sleep, that night.

The next few days dragged on. It felt as though life was testing him, daring him not to make that absurd move.

He could still call it off. He hadn’t told Himuro a word about his plans, after all—and he hoped Kuroko would manage to make Kagami keep his mouth shut, as both had promised him to.

Himuro would only know when giving up was no longer an option for him. Because once he knew, he would also realize before Murasakibara had the chance to say anything. Himuro would know even if he denied everything.

When Friday came and he went straight from school to the airport, that very notion made his heart more agitated than he’d ever felt it.

As he waited by the gate, Kuroko’s parting words when he had met with the Seirin pair earlier that week came to his mind.

“Take care, Murasakibara-kun,” he had stared at him, as impassive as ever. “You won’t be rejected, I’m sure.”

“Eh? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kurochin,” he had retorted, in spite of his awareness that he couldn’t fool his sharp friend.

“Is that so? Then, I’m sorry for uttering unreasonable things.”

“Hm, it’s fine.”

He had been by the end of the corridor when his inner-self betrayed him again, urging him to say, “Thanks again, Kurochin.”

He never saw the smile with which Kuroko replied in a murmur, “You're very welcome, Murasakibara-kun.”

Now, already bothered by the perspective of spending infinite hours cramped in an airplane seat, he wondered how right Kuroko was.

Not to worry, he decided, rewarding himself with a mouthful of chips.

It was going to be worth it. After all, he wasn’t going to lose.

Not to Nijimura.

Not to anyone.

“Heh. I traveled back in time.” He thought to himself as the plane landed in Vancouver and it was announced the local time was 10:40 am. He had left Tokyo around 5 pm, and his body was feeling according to his actual time zone.

The naps he had managed to take during the flight hadn’t helped much. The discomfort of having his long legs deprived of space to stretch as well as the fact that he kept having the same dream rendered him restless.

He had kept dreaming about the smile he didn't want to get.

And now, he was close to getting it… Perhaps.

That called for a refill of his snacks.

He still had about four hours of waiting before his next flight departed. Also, he had to let Himuro know he was on his way to Los Angeles.

But that could still wait.

And thus, he walked around aimlessly, glancing at the stores and mentally rehearsing the phrases he would have to say as he shopped for food.

Thankfully, Kuroko’s list had covered that too.

Even after it felt like he had walked through the entire boarding area, not much time had passed. At least, by the end of that short journey, he had managed to buy enough snacks to give him back his energy—and make him go bankrupt in the process.

Back to the seats close to his assigned boarding gate, he sat down and savored his acquisitions.

Only an hour later, when not many treats had been spared and it was already midday, he took his mobile and wondered if he should just cancel his trip and go back to Japan.

As upsetting as it might be, however, he had to settle things up. Otherwise, they would keep on bugging him forever.

So he sighed and pressed the call button.

“Wow, I’ll get used to you calling me,” was what Himuro said instead of greeting him.

Murasakibara could spot students behind Himuro, walking down what seemed to be a corridor somewhere on campus. They were pretty loud.

“Hold on,” Himuro said, and the screen went dark for a few seconds. When he appeared again, the background noise had diminished.

“Are you still having classes today?” Murasakibara asked, also skipping the formalities.

“Nope. Heading home as we speak.” He then stopped as something in his mobile screen seemed to grab his attention. “Are you in an airport?”

“Yeah.”

Himuro didn’t even hide his surprise. It was safe to say Kuroko and Kagami had kept their promise, since he asked next, “Where is it?”

“Vancouver.”

“What in the world are you doing in Canada?!”

Murasakibara almost giggled in watching his friend’s dismayed look.

“Waiting for my next flight… To LA.”

Himuro blinked once, then twice. He seemed to be at a loss for words and, honestly, Murasakibara didn’t know whether that was good or bad. He hadn’t expected such a reaction.

“Murochin, will you pick me at the airport?”

If a negative answer ensued, well, he still had the directions to Himuro’s place and tips on how to get there.

“Sure,” Himuro, at last, replied under his breath. “I’ll see you there. Text me your flight number and stuff.”

“Hm, okay. See you then.”

“Yeah. See ya.”

Fidgeting for the next two hours and emptying his newly acquired bag of western snacks in no time, he tried to prepare himself for the smile.

The way he saw it then, it might be better than the shocked response.

“Meet me outside the baggage claim area.”

Murasakibara realized his blood was pumping hard in his veins when his hand clasped the luggage handle. How could he be feeling calm, after all? He had just gone through Immigration and Customs process—a real pain—and while Kagami’s notes and audio clips had helped him more than he’d expected, it had been tough understanding the standard questions the attendant had bombarded him with.

That was the only reason he was nervous, he told himself as he strolled out of the baggage claim section. It had nothing to do with the fact that he would be face to face with Himuro any minute now.

“Chill out, heart.” He sent his body a silent note, hoping it would behave. “It’s just Murochin.”

Well, maybe it had a little bit to do with that.

He stopped in his tracks as soon as he walked past the arrivals gate.

As a matter of fact, it had to do with that.

That was what his heart told him as his eyes immediately fell upon the one person he longed to see.

“Atsushi! You’re really here.”

Himuro greeted him with a smile he was sure caused his frantic heartbeat to take a longer pause than it was supposed to.

“I am. Hi there, Murochin.”

Himuro took a step forward and seemed on the verge of going for a hug. Instead, however, he simply glanced at him and said, “It’s been a while. And I’m still shocked you just showed up here. I seriously thought that was a prank.”

“You said I should come visit you sometime.” He let a smirk take form on his lips. “And you came pick me up anyway.”

“Of course! I had to make sure.” Another smile. “Then, are you crashing at my place?”

Himuro started walking towards the exit, knowing he would tag along. As he did, he tried to sound like his usual self what, believe it or not, proved to be kind of hard then.

“I didn’t book a hotel,” he replied and pretended not to notice the amused look he earned.

“Fair enough. Besides, I promised I would fix the world’s yummiest scrambled eggs for you. All the better if you’re my guest.”

He nodded, for at that point he didn’t really trust himself to do anything else. They were walking side by side and the feeling was so nostalgic.

It felt good. And it made him wonder why he hadn’t realized that long before.

He had no time to dwell on the good part of being there, though, for Himuro added, “First, what you say we order pizza tonight? We can also call Shuu over and-- A-Atsushi!?”

Spotting an empty corner, he didn’t think before he grabbed Himuro by the wrist with his free hand and dragged him to that spot out of people’s view.

That was it. Now or never.

“What the hell?” Himuro asked in a loud tone, bewilderment all over his face.

“Murochin,” he called, folding his arms against his chest and looking down at his friend, unfazed by his outraged stare. “I won’t give you to Nijimura.”

It felt as though a heavy load had been taken off his shoulders, which was strange, considering he was still carrying his backpack.

An uncomfortable silence followed, only to be broken a second later, as Himuro started laughing. He wasn’t giving the smile, he was laughing. Murasakibara frowned to a point he could feel the wrinkles on his forehead. He tried to ignore the pang in his chest altogether.

“Wait,” Himuro finally said, steadying his laughter until he was serious again. “You came all the way here to tell me that?”

Murasakibara gulped. Yes, that was pretty much what he had done. It sounded very silly now, to say the least.

“What if I did?”

He couldn’t help but pout. Damn Murochin, cornering him like that and making him feel all weird and messed up.

“Well,” Himuro stared at him, his expression unreadable. “Then I guess I have no choice. I’ll have to tell you something myself.”

He frowned again, wondering what could Himuro be possibly meaning to tell him. He could only assume his friend was going to admit he was dating Nijimura.

Murasakibara clenched his hands into fists. To his utter surprise, Himuro took them into his own, prompting them to open and their fingers to touch.

The frown left his then flushed face, his purple eyes widening against his will.

“You should know it by now, though,” Himuro continued, his thoughtful look likely just an act.

Usually, it wasn’t hard for him to feign boredom. He was aware he didn’t fool many people, just as he was totally aware that most times he didn’t fool Himuro at all.

Problem is, this time he couldn’t even start pretending he wasn’t interested. The heat in his cheeks made him want to crush himself.

He was so not ready for the words Himuro said next.

“I'm yours, Atsushi. Unless you’re not interested.”

His natural reaction would be denial. Not because he wasn’t interested, rather, because he was way too interested. And mostly, because he was aware Himuro would see through the lies anyway.

Something in him probably saved him from even trying, this time. Whatever it was his face was showing, it led Himuro to step forward and look right into his eyes. He couldn’t pretend he ignored the silent invitation. He couldn’t play dumb at a moment like this.

So he accepted the invite and bent until there was no gap between their lips.

The kiss was but a brief moment of them pressed against each other. No force, no invasion, just a touch.

He could still feel his friend’s breath when they parted. He could still feel it when, looking at him with a contented smile, Himuro muttered, “I love you, Atsushi.”

He had to look away, because the embarrassment he felt was too much to take. But even as he did, he mumbled, “Me too.”

Himuro laughed, his laughter sounding like music to his ears. Murasakibara watched as his precious Murochin intertwined their fingers, making sure they would be holding hands as they resumed their walk.

“Should we go now?”

He responded by tightening the grip of their hands and clutching his luggage.

He hoped his jelly legs wouldn’t let him down. Literally.

“So, Murochin, you’re really not dating Nijimura?”

Snuggling together at Himuro’s comfy two-seater couch just after they had had pizza for dinner—just the two of them, no Nijimura around—they enjoyed their long missed company and the discoveries the after-confession brought.

It was a little bit awkward, but it felt better than Murasakibara could have imagined. Feeling Himuro’s smaller body close to his was… Sweet.

Which was why, obviously, he still had to make sure there was no threat to that.

“Of course not! What do you take me for?” Even though he sounded outraged, Murasakibara knew he was holding his laughter.

“Well, I had to check. Mine-chin was suggesting that, before.”

A mysterious glint shone in Himuro’s visible eye.

“He won’t be suggesting it anymore, trust me. Which reminds me, I need to text Taiga.”

Through sleepy eyes, Murasakibara observed as his whatever-he-should-call-Murochin-from-then-onwards reached for his mobile and proceeded to type said message. There must be something magical about Himuro, he decided, because he had realized every little detail about him was beautiful or something.

It was either magic or jet lag talking.

“By the way, Murochin. Do you always sign your emails like that?”

Himuro didn’t respond. Instead, he kept typing until he finally hit send with a dramatic poke to the screen.

Then, he set the phone aside and turned around, leaning in and pecking at the corner of Murasakibara’s lips.

“Nope,” he answered, at last. “Only yours.”

If asked, Murasakibara would say it was drowsiness what had him cling to Himuro as if the other was a teddy bear, and mumble, “Good.”

In the back of his mind, he considered thanking Nijimura someday.

At that moment, though, all he cared about was holding Himuro tighter and staking his claim. And so he did, with a victorious note in his voice.

“My Murochin.”