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The black-haired boy was exhausted.
He was emotionally drained from the day he had today and all he wanted to do was sleep, even if it was earlier than normal.
A hand reached for a book on the shelf, on one of the higher way above him so he had to stand on the tips of his toes. It was the last textbook in the library, the one he needed for his class. He just wasn’t able to afford renting one from the bookstore, and while he was happy there was a copy in the library, there was only one book so he always had to act quick to get it. But a little bit taller, god if he was just a little bit taller maybe he would be able to reach it.
Instead of his, another hand suddenly came into his view, fingers wrapping around the spine of the book and gripping tightly. The shorter one dropped to his feet harshly after seeing the hand slide the book out, a surprised gasp coming from his mouth as he felt the body ghosting his next to him. He whipped his head around, eyes squinting in annoyance.
“Hey–” the shorter’s voice cried out, strained. And then he locked eyes with the other, face void of emotion which sent a single chill down his spine. His eyes were hard, calculating, daring the other to say another word. The brown-haired one smirked, eyes flickering down to the book and then back to the other one, a foot taking a step backwards to retreat in silence. But the shorter one didn't care — he was a stranger, and he needed the book to study for his upcoming exam — so somehow words found their way back to his lips, anger fueling them.
“I was here first, that isn't fair you asshole. I need the book more than you, I’m so going to fail this exam without it.”
The other paused in his retreat, eyes locking with the others. The snarl was visible, the scrunch of the nose more cute than intimidating but the eyes told a different story. They were desperate, aching in need of a grade boost. With only a few semesters left in his college career, he needed all of the help he could get to keep his grade up, as it can easily drop in a nanosecond and would take ages to bring back up again.
And the black-haired boy didn’t have ages.
“Syoya? What are you doing back here so early?” On a Friday night, the older was usually out and about — at one of the sports games playing that night, or in the library until they’re close to closing if it was exam week, or even sometimes you could catch him at a frat party (but it was rare).
The black-haired boy spun around where he was going to his room now, dressed in sweatpants and loose fitted t-shirt that were clearly his pajamas. He carried a blanket from the living room, always stealing one when it got to be winter and the nights were so cold.
“Shosei,” the older whined out his roommate’s name, head tilting cutely. He didn’t like being teased, seeing the smirk on the blonde’s face as he closed their apartment door and took off his jacket.
Shosei mimicked the older, drawing out his name as well as he put his jacket on the back of a nearby chair, “but really though, it’s early for you to be here. What is it, nine? Ten at night? This is unnerving behavior, mister.”
Syoya scoffs, holding the blanket even tighter. The soft fabric danced between his fingertips, a barrier between his fingernails and palm.
“Did it ever occur to you that I need the book too?”
It was a smart reply that Syoya hated, almost wishing that he just shelled out the few dollars he had to get the book just so he didn’t wouldn’t have to be here interacting with this student. It was clear he wouldn’t give the book over, or even share.
“Did it ever occur to you that I was here first?” he shot back with venom, eyeing the book. All he wanted was to review the pages of the chapters his exam was on, to try and answer the problems the book suggests to do. And, unfortunately for Syoya, he was desperate. His heart tugged when his eyes locked again with the taller boy in front of him, a single eyebrow raised.
“Grow a couple more inches, and then we’ll talk short stuff,” the boy lifted the corner of his mouth, waving the book mockingly before disappearing behind the bookcases.
And Syoya wasn’t thinking clearly. With a C in the class right now, he never was in the first place.
“Maybe I’m just sleepy, that’s all. I can be sleepy, right?” Syoya pouted. He was so tired, eyes closing on their own as if an invisible string was pulling them down but Syoya wasn’t complaining. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and go into dreamland, to escape the terrible day he just had.
Shosei sighed, looking at the older boy. He looked tired alright, but not the sleepy kind.
The blonde waved him off with a shake of his hand, fingers wiggling almost as if to give him permission for going to bed early. But if anyone needed it, it sure as hell would be Kimata Syoya.
Syoya was pissed. Maybe he wasn’t thinking straight, with his heart dropping into his stomach and his feet moving on their own. It was basically a chase, the male breathing hard as he rounded the bookcase to see the brunette male still walking, heading towards the group of tables and chairs at the end of the room so he can study peacefully.
But it wasn’t so peaceful when Syoya’s hand gripped the other’s shoulder, pulling him back roughly.
The other took in a sharp breath, eyes going wide from the sudden contact. Now it was his turn to whip his head around, a snarl on his lips.
“I thought I told you–” But as he’s talking the book is ripped out of his hands viciously, the man in front of him so desperate for the last copy that he would be willing to do whatever to get the book son long as he passes the class, even by the skin of his teeth.
“Sorry– well actually I’m not, but I really need this and you fucking know I was there first,” Syoya spit out, gripping he book tightly before he started to turn away. But the taller’s hand was on his bicep now, and it hurt. It hurt like hell, squeezing muscle into bone and displacing blood.
“This is natural selection, short stuff, and I was the one who could actually reach. So now if you’ll excuse me,” and with the infamous smirk, he took the book back swiftly and went on his merry way. Syoya huffed loudly, hand in his hair but just standing around would do him no good.
He clicked his tongue, feeling the urge to stomp his foot and push chairs over like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum but that would just have him kicked out of the library, which holds the only book he needed. He groaned, realizing what he had to do even if he hated it.
Syoya’s in bed now, but he couldn’t sleep. He’s just staring — staring at his ceiling, counting the many bumps that graced it, eyes tracing the shelling above him. It was his least favorite type of ceiling, but it was one of the few apartments he and Shosei could afford in this particular neighborhood, close enough to their university.
But what’s really on his mind is a certain someone from before.
A certain someone that is a complete asshole and honestly shouldn’t even be going into the field he was working towards because of his poor people skills. But somehow Syoya worked up the courage to ask him if they can share the book even if it meant glaring daggers at each other across the table, harsh flipping of the papers back and forth as they’ve stubbornly decided on different ones even though they found out they share the same professor.
But somehow Syoya got the other’s name amidst the whole debacle of them arguing and holding up their walls, and Syoya can’t say that he doesn’t like the way it sounded.
Kinjo Sukai.
And somewhere deep down within him something lurched, and he hated that feeling so much. So Syoya continued to be bitchy; continued to flip the pages harshly not caring if they could rip at any moment; continued to practically ignore the other (it’s not like they were talking anyway).
But now that Syoya is alone, laying in bed where his thoughts can run freely and his emotions can be displayed on his face all he wanted to do was cry. Cry about what part, he doesn’t know, but the emotions are so strong and he doesn’t know what it means and it scares him to no end.
He cried himself to sleep within the hour, overthinking everything now.
He couldn’t tell if they were tears of sadness or tears of anger; all he knew was that they were hot, streaming down his face and soaking his pillow, leaving trail marks and he knows he’s going to have a massive headache in the morning — he already has one right now.
And when he finally falls asleep, he can breathe again. It’s like his soul rises from his body, tethered by a thin silver string. He looks down at his own body with a disappointed sigh, hand running through his overgrown hair but his human body is too stubborn to get it cut.
But it doesn’t matter, because in a moments time he feel an invisible tug on his own body and he’s through the side of the apartment, out in the cold air but he can’t feel a goddamn thing.
And there he is, with a hand on his forehead rubbing with distraught until he sees the one he’s been waiting for to come through to the outside, to his own world.
“God, we’re such idiots,” Sukai sighs, hand dropping down to his side. Syoya just smirks, a sad smile on his face but it turns happy as he can now finally be with his lover in a safe space, even if it’s just for a few hours. But he can finally breathe again, hand wrapping around Sukai's neck in a tight embrace, still feeling what Syoya felt just moments before when he was still awake and crying. It felt nice to be in the brunette's arms, knowing that it's just fake; a game, a test.
All he can do is hope that now that they’ve met in person, their plan can finally start.