Chapter Text
Sou woke with a start, a trail of drool dripping from his mouth and rank morning breath thick on his tongue.
“Guh?!”
He wiped his chin with his sleeve and ran his fingers through his messy green hair, which was as hard to tame as usual with the addition of bedhead—or should he say desk head? He’d been resting his head on his arms, which were now numb and sore from the weight. He was just going to take a short breather last night while he was coding, but he instead had fallen asleep in that position for the night after a few restless nights in a row.
He stretched out his arms and yawned. Something slipped off his shoulders and fell onto the floor. Shin glanced over, and to his surprise, it was a blanket. Considering that he’d fallen asleep by accident, he wouldn’t have had the foresight to put a blanket on before he took a break. To his right, there was a cup of cooled tea from last night. He remembered desperately guzzling the beverage without abandon in an attempt to stay caffeinated and awake—how was it that the cup was full once again?
He shook his head and rubbed his eyes blearily. An absurd thought crossed his mind—perhaps Sara had placed the blanket over his shoulders, thinking he might be cold, and perhaps Sara had filled his cup while she was at it. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched, considering they lived in the same apartment, except for the fact that she couldn’t stand him, and he couldn’t stand her. They just didn’t get along, the way oil and water simply didn’t mix.
He rose, his back aching—was he already getting old? There was no way; he was barely a few years older than Sara, who was as spritely and dexterous as a fairy. Albeit, she exercised and took care of her own body, while the same couldn’t be said for Sou, who often skipped meals and whose muscles could only be compared realistically to limp noodles.
He tottered off to the kitchen. He was, for once, in the mood for a little something to eat. But the refrigerator’s contents were surprisingly scant. Usually, it was stocked well enough since Sara shared the apartment with him. Today, there was only a 7-11 rice ball sitting there with a carton of expired milk and a slice of bread. He sighed and took the rice ball. It supposedly hadn’t expired yet.
“Sou, you’re up?”
He turned to face her, scratching his head.
“Yeah.”
He never had much to say to Sara. But even though they both held a dislike for each other, Sara seemed much more interested in his business and talked to him more frequently than he did to her: not that he ever reciprocated.
“Today we have to go grocery shopping, as you can tell from the empty refrigerator.” She crossed her arms. “You have to come with me.”
It wasn’t a request or a negotiation. Sou examined her hard purple gaze. It was surely a demand. He shrugged carelessly.
“Sure.”
Sara turned and walked away, effectively ending the conversation; at least, whatever that was—could it be called a conversation? It was more like Sara talking at him as he offered one-word responses. He absentmindedly bit into the rice ball.
Today was going to be a long day. Grocery shopping always took a while.
“Are you ready to go?”
He nodded, and Sara pushed open the door. The walk to the store was silent, but not awkward. They’d gotten used to being around each other without the need for conversing. It would appear odd to anyone around them—but they got along alright. Apart from the fact that they hated each other, Sou surmised.
The trip was more uneventful than Sou could have hoped for, aside from Sara telling him he needed to buy real food and not just live off of convenience store premade meals and powdery packets of soup poured into boiling water. He had brushed her off, reminding her that real meals required preparation, which was time he couldn’t afford to spend when he had work to do, but Sara was just as if not more stubborn than him. They’d ended up compromising and getting a few rice balls and premade meals along with actual vegetables and fruits that required little preparation, like tomatoes and apples and other items of their ilk.
On their walk home, Sara held the heavier grocery bag, while Sou carried two lighter ones in each hand. Maybe it was her way of saving him face, being the stronger one of the two despite being younger. A small breeze swept past them as they walked.
“Hey.”
Sou regretted it the moment he’d said it. He knew it was only one word, but it was enough to make him regret speaking at all. He hoped Sara hadn’t heard him talk.
“Yeah?”
He cursed under his breath and continued talking as if he hadn’t just started talking on an impulse, looking pointedly ahead as he avoided looking at her.
“Did you put a blanket on me after I fell asleep?”
He could’ve sworn she smiled, if only for a second, but he hadn’t been looking closely enough to tell.
“Maybe.”
What was it with her and being vague? Sou shook his head inwardly.
“Did you pour me more tea?”
“Maybe.”
Again, with that kind of response. Sou turned and looked at her. Her ponytail was elegantly swinging as she walked rhythmically beside him, which made him conscious of his awkward, jerky gait.
“What do you mean by ‘maybe’?”
She stopped walking as they reached the door to their apartment complex. Sara faced him and held out the grocery bag.
“Take this.”
Sou took it, perplexed.
“Are you going to answer me?” he tried not to sound too bratty. He was supposed to be an adult—then again, they both were—and he grabbed the bag of groceries, the handle straining under its weight.
Sara was smiling. It was the same smile she’d offered to him day after day, a smile suspiciously devoid of hatred even though he knew she hated him and she knew he hated her. It was a gentle smile, one that made her eyes crinkle slightly, those orchid orbs radiant with warmth.
“Sou, of course, I did. I’m the only person you share this apartment with. Who else would have done it?”
He sighed.
“Well, I don’t know. I thought maybe I’d done it myself and then forgotten.”
She shook her head, and the two clambered up the stairs, Sara fishing out her keys.
“Of course not. I know how you get when you’ve been working for a while. How long have we been living together?”
Sou tried to remember, he really did.
“A year?” he guessed.
Sara sighed, exasperated—but there was a certain tint of fondness in her voice. The keys clacked as she unlocked the door.
“After you. And no. I don’t know how you forget things like this.”
He found himself answering defensively as he stepped inside and dumped the grocery bags on the table.
“Well, sorry I’m not like Miss Perfect here.”
She closed the door and rolled her eyes.
“Sou, no one ever said you had to be perfect and neither am I. I just sometimes think to myself that there’s no room in that brain of yours for anything but computers.”
He crossed his arms and looked at her, really looked at her for the first time today. She was wearing a white t-shirt with a blue jacket and black leggings. That jacket looked rather familiar-
“Hey, isn’t that my jacket?”
Sara tilted her head, looking right back at him.
“Is it?”
He stared at it, trying to think. It looked so very familiar- why couldn’t he remember?
“Yeah, I think it is… Why do you have it?”