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“…what I’m saying is— hey, are you listening?”
Hirugami snaps out of his reverie. He breaks the eye contact with the dog he’s been staring at for the past minute. I lost again, he thinks defeatedly.
The dog looks away in apathy.
Koutarou wouldn’t do that to me, he sulks. He would’ve brought her along for their walk if it wasn’t for the irrationally cold weather – what kind of owner dares to put their pet through something like that? Just thinking of her suffering in the cold makes his heart squeeze unpleasantly.
The cold is biting, almost unbearably so, but somehow he still manages to get himself dragged out out for a walk around town. It’s been four months since they last see each other and it’s just his luck that Hoshiumi’s idea of a reunion involves freezing to death together out in the open.
The reasoning is lost on him, but the sentiment is there, he guesses. Any time together is better than time spent alone, even if he has to lose a few fingers in the process.
“What— what are we talking about again?”
Hoshiumi makes that face. The one where his face scrunches into the center of his face like a baby who ate a too-sour lemon at the expense of his parent’s jest.
The one that makes Hirugami wants to squish his face.
Affectionately, of course. Vets are pacifists by heart after all.
“You were in another staring competition with a dog again, weren’t you.” Hoshiumi accuses, not letting the subject matter drop that easily.
Hirugami feigns innocence, nonchalantly turning away from where he was staring intently at the dog. “What dog?” he asks smugly. “I am fully immersed in our conversation.”
Hoshiumi shakes his head disapprovingly. Freak, he thinks.
“Stop calling me mean names inside your head.”
“Wh– shut up, it’s my head and I get to think whatever I want.” Hoshiumi replies, expression incredulous. He can’t decide whether Hirugami knowing exactly what he’s thinking about is unnverving or endearing. He decides on both, but plays up the latter for drama, just because. “And stop reading my mind. Freak.”
Hirugami lets it pass. “So what are we talking about?”
“Seagulls. Migration patterns. Duh.” Hoshiumi answers like he obviously should know this.
“I thought we were talking about starfish a minute ago.”
“Well, they’re an essential part of the coral reef ecosystem that affects gulls as well. Keep up, Sachirou.” Hoshiumi starts walking again and Hirugami follows him obediently.
See, he’s keeping up.
“Y’gotta stop doing that, you know. Staring pointedly at strangers’ dogs,” he continues, still holding on to the matter. “People are gonna think you’re a dognapper and I don’t want to be seen with an evil person in broad daylight. Can’t have you ruining my golden star reputation, mister.”
First of all, dognapper is not a word, Hirugami is sure of that. The fact that Hoshiumi said it with so much conviction still doesn’t change the fact.
Second, Hoshiumi is hilarious, as always. It’s funny how he thinks the world would easily lose respect for him for something that fickle. Hirugami thinks about the headlines of numerous articles he's read about him — The Radiant Hoshiumi Kourai, Starlight of the Ocean — he doesn't think they would forget that about him anytime soon.
He’s so dramatic.
They arrive in the front of a little bingsu café that looks fairly new. Hoshiumi enters the door without hesitation.
Sure, shaved ice in minus weather, Hirugami thinks, following his steps. Why not.
The bell on the door tinkles noisily, echoing inside the empty café. They make a beeline for the counter and Hirugami lets Hoshiumi ponder the menu, hand stroking his chin like he has a long beard. The mental image makes him smile. Hoshiumi doesn’t seem to notice, too engrossed with the difficult task of choosing the right topping for their bingsu.
“Red beans or mango?”
Hirugami recalls the last time they tried red beans and how he had to finish three quarters of the portion because the other refused to eat more than two bites. The red beans here tastes different, Sachirou, it’s not the same. Whatever that means. In the end, Hirugami finished their shared bowl alone, feeling betrayed.
How convenient of him to forget such a memory.
“Mango,” he supplies quickly, not wanting another numb tongue for the evening.
Hoshiumi makes the order while making small talk with the cashier, laughing vibrantly upon hearing her remark on how they’re the only ones brave enough for this treat in this weather.
Hirugami stares openly, feeling like he's vibrating from standing next to him alone. He almost wants to berate himself for being such a teenager about it, but he hasn’t seen Hoshiumi in months and it feels so good to be reminded of how rewarding it is just to exist near him.
They sit down on a table for two, choosing the seat furthest from the cashier and closest to the window. “For privacy’s sake,” Hoshiumi whispers dramatically, as if they’re a pair of secret agents supplied with top-secret information.
The café is deserted as they really seem to be the only patrons daring enough to opt for cold food in cold weather today, true to the cashier's words. It’s a shame, really. This is such a nice place that deserves more exposure, but Hirugami can’t exactly blame others for having common sense.
All of a sudden, a thought occurs. Hirugami squints his eyes accusingly. “Did you purposefully choose a quiet place so I don’t get distracted by animals?”
“No?” It’s Hoshiumi’s turn to feign innocence, smiling innocuously. “You’re so self-centered. Can’t a guy eat ice without being accused of having underlying motives?”
Hirugami scowls, feeling cheated.
Hoshiumi gives him a shit-eating grin in return. His eyes twinkle with mischief. 1-1, Sachirou.
The cashier calls for their order and Hirugami promptly stands to pick it up. A true show of sportsmanship after losing a mental showdown, really.
“Anyway, seagulls,” Hoshiumi starts again seamlessly, as if continuing a conversation they’re having just now, instead of one that had died fifteen minutes ago. He must really like this one, Hirugami thinks. “They rely heavily on their sense of smell to determine their location while migrating. Imagine being like, sniff sniff... yeah, this feels right. Why can’t humans have that, huh?”
Hirugami looks at him, bemused. “Have you been reading up on animal facts while you’re away?”
“Yeah, I caught this nerd flu one night and haven't gotten better since,” Hoshiumi deadpans. He scoops one big helping of ice – alarmingly big – with his spoon and puts it in his mouth.
“Uhhihima-han–” Hoshiumi manages to garble from behind the large chunk of ice, voice coming out distorted. He chews, swallows, then tries again, not missing a beat. “Ushijima-san listens to white noise to help him sleep.”
Hirugami raises an eyebrow, head cocking to the side. What does this have to do with anything, he tries to convey. I feel like I don’t need to know the bedroom intricacies of Japan’s Biggest Cannon. He feels ridiculous all of a sudden, picturing the huge man in his pajamas, settling down under the covers while clicking on a playlist called White Noise for Babies—
What the fuck.
“Ugh, I’m just getting started. It will make sense in a while. Stop looking constipated.”
Hirugami generously pretends that he doesn’t hear Hoshiumi muttering huh, this is kinda cold to himself while trying to scoop another big helping from their bowl. He gives up after the big chunk of ice doesn’t relent.
“‘Kay, he said that Tendou-san has been recommending them since high school and his favorites are the rainforest ones. So I was like, whaaaaat, but seaside ambience is the best! Nothing beats the sound of crashing waves, right? And he’s all, no, Hoshiumi-san. Rainforests are lush, teeming with life. But y’know, oceans are teeming with life as well! Infested with it, even!” Hoshiumi flails his arm with the spoon in one hand, expression incredulous. “So we kinda got into a heated debate about which one’s better.”
White noise discourse with Japan’s Biggest Cannon, Hirugami notes. Okay, I’m keeping up.
“But suddenly Kageyama was like, how can noises have color, Hoshiumi-san? and I almost screamed... are you kidding me! Tobio, what the heck! This boy lives under a rock!”
Hirugami finds himself smiling in response, suddenly recalling how excited Hoshiumi was when he discovered that he’s going to be teammates in Schweiden Adlers with Kageyama Tobio, of all people. They went as far back as the Youth Training Camp and he knows the boy brings out Hoshiumi's nurturing side, just like how he was with the juniors at Kamomedai.
As the youngest in his family, he can emphatize with the excitement that comes with having the opportunity to not be the baby for once.
“Anyway, we ended up watching nature documentaries together. One rainforest episode, the other about coral reef, and the last was about the savannah for a palate cleanser. Kageyama fell asleep halfway through the first one, but I made sure Ushijima-san stayed awake through all three for fair judgement.”
“Well?” Hirugami scoops a sensible portion of the ice with his own spoon, “Did you win?”
“Did I win, he asks!” Hoshiumi puffs his chest like a bird. “I, well. I did not. Ushijima-san did acknowledge that the waves are calming and ocean life is awesome, yes, but he said that they still don’t make as much noise as rainforest creatures.”
Fair point, Hirugami notes. Japan’s Biggest Cannon is also a discourse warrior. Can’t really find this stuff on Volleyball’s Digest. He wonders how many bucks he could get from Akane in exchange for this information.
As much as he enjoys hearing the quirks of Hoshiumi’s teammates, he must admit that there’s always going to be a part of him that envies them a little. Watching nature documentaries has never been on their activity list, but he wonders if Hoshiumi would make him watch them with him in their place.
Hirugami takes another spoonful, closing his eyes and trying to savor the taste. He dismisses the thought and counts his blessings instead, stopping himself from worrying about the what ifs to focus on what he has now.
He's eating dessert in the company of his favorite person, usually miles away but he's here now, he's here, and that's enough. It doesn't matter what they do and what they talk about, because they're finally occupying the same space again.
When he opens his eyes, he finds Hoshiumi staring at him. It doesn't feel inquisitive or threatening, but Hirugami still feels somewhat vulnerable.
“What,” he nudges lightly, keeping his tone neutral.
Hoshiumi holds his gaze for a beat longer, then breaks contact by looking away.
“Nothing.”
They fall into a comfortable silence, both deciding to occupy themselves with their shared bowl of bingsu. Hirugami tries to thaw the large chunk of ice that Hoshiumi gave up on earlier. When it finally crumbles, Hoshiumi clinks his spoon with Hirugami’s as a gesture of thanks. Hirugami clinks back because he's a good person who believes in equal participation from both parties in a conversation.
“But that’s not the point, Sachirou,” Hoshiumi starts again, voice quieter this time. “I know it’s a stretch, but learning about those animals reminds me of you.”
Hirugami just stares back at him. He doesn’t even pretend to understand what he’s talking about.
Hoshiumi tries again. “What I'm trying to say– what I’m saying, is.”
“I guess it kinda made me feel like I’m closer to you,” Hoshiumi confesses softly, eyes not quite meeting his. “Or something,” he adds lamely, face coloring.
Oh, there we go.
It’s always been simple, between them, but Hirugami often forgets that there will always be new things to learn about each other. The distance forces them to adapt by navigating through previously unknown challenges like patience and compromise and many others that he's still trying to articulate. It’s not easy and it makes his head spin, as with most things of importance, but he firmly believes that it’s worth fighting for.
He extends his legs until his knees bump Hoshiumi’s. He stays there.
“Well, I’m here now,” Hirugami says, eyes meeting Hoshiumi’s. “Don’t have to wonder about that anymore.”
“It’s not the same,” Hoshiumi protests. “I hate not being able to tell you stuff in real time. What if I saw something like, I don't know, a cool bird and it flew away before I got a picture? What if someone said something really dumb and I want to talk shit about it? I can't discuss this kind of stuff with my teammates, y'know, they either won't care or will be too mean about it.”
“Kourai-kun,” Hirugami replies gently, “You can still talk to me while you’re away, you know. It’s not like I ceased to exist the moment I left your line of sight.”
“I can’t just call you smack dab in the middle of the night to talk about whatever,” Hoshiumi sounds offended. “I have manners, you know.”
The mental image of him trying to talk through a mouthful of ice resurfaces. Manners, sure.
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” Hirugami grins cheekily.
Hoshiumi’s face reddens when he figures out what he means. “Listen, that was one time– and it’s your brother’s fault, okay, he– he tricked me into doing it—”
Hirugami remembers the drunk dial at 3 AM, Hoshiumi’s slurred voice barely audible over the noisy crowd in the background. Sachirooooouuu, whuh do you do when I’m away? Don’t be doing things without meeeee, assssshoooleeee, Hoshiumi had whined pitifully.
He ended up spending at least ten minutes just to reassure Hoshiumi that he’s only been doing lame vet stuff, Kourai-kun, what else is there for me without you around, and later on the conversation was terminated by Fukurou’s little warning to wrap it up, idiots, he’s using my phone and unless you want to pay for the roaming expenses—
That was one for the books, really.
“Suuuuuure,” he teases, mimicking his state of being from that night. “Kouuuurai-kuuun.”
Hoshiumi kicks his shin. Hirugami’s long leg jumps up in response, violently bumping the table with a loud noise, rattling all belongings on top. The cashier stares at them in silent judgment.
“Sorry,” they say in unison.
Mean, Hirugami mouths to him, rubbing on the vulnerable spot he just got attacked at to ease the pain.
Deserved, Hoshiumi mouths back lovingly with a triumphant smile.
“Wasn’t joking, you know,” Hirugami valiantly tries to get back on track. “You can call me whenever.”
Hoshiumi raises an eyebrow. “To talk about birds?”
“To talk about whatever.”
“You have a hellish schedule that makes my head ache trying to memorize all of it. Who am I to disrupt that?” Hoshiumi sounds like he’s sulking, but Hirugami knows better to detect the genuine insecurity underlying his question.
He thinks it’s funny how Hoshiumi acts like he has to carve a space in his life, as if he’s not a core part of it already. It's not like he puts his life on hold until his return, but Hirugami wasn’t lying when he said there’s not much for him to do without Hoshiumi around.
“So? Worst case scenario is I won’t pick up or I’ll take time to reply, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t get back to you eventually. I still want to hear what you’re up to, Kourai-kun, and if you call that disruptive then please disrupt me all you want.”
Hoshiumi is still silent.
“Besides,” Hirugami continues, trying to lighten the mood. “I can’t have my place as your go-to shittalker replaced by someone else. Who else is there? Ushijima-san? What would he say? Yes, Hoshiumi-san, that person is totally not rocking with you. We should beat him to pulp.”
Hoshiumi giggles. “That's an awful Ushijima-san impersonation, even for your standard. I’m telling that you made him sound like a brute.”
“Yeah? What’s he gonna do, make me listen to jungle noises for three hours straight?”
Hoshiumi laughs openly, tension clearing from his shoulders. "You’re terrible.”
The hearthy sound of his laughter fills the empty café with a comfortable presence. The Radiant Hoshiumi Kourai, Hirugami recalls the headlines once more. He really couldn’t argue with that.
Hirugami feels warmth blooming in his chest. This is why it’s worth it, he thinks. This is why it will always be worth it.
They fall into another comfortable silence for a while, reveling in the company of each other. The bingsu has melted considerably, bearing witness to their conversation. Hirugami finally decides that their choice of dessert is not so bad after all.
“Okay,” Hoshiumi says suddenly, breaking the silence. “The ice. You can eat the rest of it.”
Hirugami stares at him blankly.
“It’s kinda cold, Sachirou. I’ve had my fill.”
Hirugami’s eyes widen. “It’s ice, it’s supposed to be cold.”
Hoshiumi puts his spoon down, waving his hand dismissively in the air. “Well, if you like it so much, finish it then.”
Mouth gaping open, Hirugami points at him accusingly. “It’s your choice! You chose this café that serves this dish specifically.”
“Yes, and it’s also my choice not to finish it as well.” Hoshiumi looks incredibly proud of himself for this comeback.
Oh, of course.
He takes it back, having bingsu in cold weather is that bad after all.
It turns out that the beans aren’t the problem, it’s just Hoshiumi’s very specific palate and his tendency to conveniently forget about basic sensations like temperatures from time to time. Hirugami makes a silent vow to choose the next place they’re going to, then promptly gets giddy at the promise of a next time.
He almost caught himself smiling before remembering how he’s supposed to be sulking at the unfair treatment.
Grumbling, Hirugami takes his spoon.
“Shut up. You’re so dramatic.” Contrary to his words, Hoshiumi’s legs wrap around his gently. When Hirugami looks up from their bowl, he finds Hoshiumi averting his gaze bashfully. He doesn’t even try to hide his smile this time, deciding to just admit defeat for once.
Bastard, Hirugami thinks fondly. He takes another spoonful of ice, tongue numb from the cold but feeling warm all over.