Chapter Text
Act 1.
“I, Miya Osamu, take you, Suna Rintarou, to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish always."
In his 10 years of relationship with Osamu, Rintarou had never seen the chef smiling this wide, pure bliss radiating from every inch of his body.
But the same could be said for him, Rintarou’s cheeks hurt from the wide grin he had plastered across his face.
He grasped tightly onto the only pair of hands he would like to hold on to for the rest of his life and stared into Osamu’s glistening grey eyes.
“I, Suna Rintarou, will also take you, Miya Osamu, to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish always." He parroted, his own set of eyes brimmed with unshed tears, “Who would’ve thought that I would get married to a Miya.”
“You may now kiss the groom” declared by the pastor merely remained as background noise when Osamu inched closer, flashing the same old toothy grin he had given Rintarou the first time they met.
“And don’t forget, yer now a Miya as well.”
“Best decision of my life,” Rintarou grinned back, “I can’t believe I said that though.”
Osamu threw his head back to laugh, not giving a single damn about the audience nor the pastor as if they were the only person in this entire hall. It sure felt that way too when his now-husband leaned forward again, eyes crinkled in a smile, and knocked their foreheads together.
“Thanks for marrying me, Rin.” Osamu had said, “Stay forever with me.”
“Okay,” Rintarou said before he dived forward to seal the deal with a kiss, “Forever sounds great.”
Two high school sweethearts knotting the tie. If only the story had ended there, what a great ending it would’ve been.
*
(7 years later)
Beep Beep
Beep Beep
Rintarou shuffles, letting out a frustrated groan at the unceasing sound.
“Osamu,” he whines, “get that thing away from me.”
But only the beeping sound of the alarm clock greets him back. He shifts on his side, only to see the space next to him empty, one side of the bed properly made. Osamu must’ve left for work already.
“Ugh-” gritting his teeth, he violently peels the cover off and sits up to finally turn off the alarm.
Rubbing his eyes, Rintarou eyes the said alarm clock.
7:30 AM
He almost rushes out of the bed, until he remembers he no longer needs to join training anymore.
That’s right, Miya Rintarou, the middle blocker of EJP Raijin has officially retired at the age of 33. He had wanted to continue for long, at least until the age of 35 or so, but the universe must’ve decided that this is it for him, bestowing a major injury at the last season and forced him into the decision.
The thoughts about his career instantly soured his mood, and he flops backs on the bed angrily. Before he could tuck himself under the blankets and go back to sleep, another alarm blares, this time not the one within his reach.
“Goddamit, Miya Osamu. Always setting up multiple alarms, as if you need them to wake up.” He squirms towards the other side of the bed, the incessant blare of the alarm magnifying his irritation.
When he takes a closer look, he realizes the alarm is set up on Osamu’s mobile phone, meaning the latter must still be in the apartment. Aggressively, he turns off the mobile and tries to burrow under the covers once again.
The peace doesn’t last for long.
“Rintarou, did ya clean the living room last night?” The referred male begrudgingly raises his head to see his spouse of 7 years at the door of their shared bedroom, who looks somehow rushed. But Rintarou couldn’t care less, he sits up, and stretches his limbs carefully, ignoring the clicking of the tongue coming from Osamu.
“Rintarou,” Osamu calls again, rather impatiently this time, “I’m already late for work, stop stallin’ and please help me out here.”
“Yes, I did.” He replies only after several deliberately slow hip stretches. Slowly, he rises to his feet, still bundled in the comforter.
“Have you seen the stash of receipts I left on the coffee table then?” asks Osamu as he frantically taps on the door frame, his patience wearing thin.
“Have I?” Rintarou just blinks back as he drags himself towards Osamu. “More importantly, Osamu- don’t set up multiple alarms if you’re going to wake up ahead of them.”
“Rintarou,” Osamu sighs, exasperation apparent on his face, “I’m not in the mood to argue. Just tell me where ya put those damn receipts.”
His tone somewhat irritates Rintarou, and he shrugs in return, knowing the action infuriates Osamu more than anything, “Who knows? I must’ve thrown them out already if you didn’t see them on the table.”
“What, how could ya?” groans Osamu, he looks as if he’s about to tear out his hair, a few minutes away from combusting out of frustration. “Those were important! Didn’t I tell ya to leave my belongings as it is?”
“They were all wrinkly,” Rintarou reasons, a tad bit guilty of mindlessly throwing out the stash without realizing that it belongs to Onigiri Miya. But still, out of habit, he defends himself. “You shouldn’t have left them on the table as well, I assumed they were the old stubs you had forgotten to get rid of.”
“We’ve been through this before, Rintarou.” Osamu grits his teeth, “Ya promised to ask me before ya clear out things. This isn’t even a first time!”
“If they were so important to you, you should’ve kept them in the safe, not on the coffee table out of all possible places. Oh, I know. Next time, you should leave them in the goddamn toilet.” Tossing the comforter draped on him right on the floor, Rintarou snaps.
“Don’t go sarcastic on me, Rin.” Osamu fires back, “I don’t have time to put up with yer bitchy mood.”
“Bitchy mood? Look here, Miya-san. Who was the one to propose this person you’re calling a bitch?”
Osamu’s face falls at his tone, but he does not step down either. “Just tell me where ya put my stuff and get this over already.”
“Do we have to be like this right in the morning though?”
“I would be at work and ya could be sleeping in if ya didn’t mess up and throw out my payroll.”
“You don’t get to lay the blame on me either,” The previous resignation in Rintarou flies away immediately as he crosses his arms, he does not want to quarrel early in the morning but Osamu is testing his patience today.
“This side of ya is drivin’ me crazy,” groans the older male, “and it’s not even in a good way.”
Rintarou scoffs. “Oh, now you’re saying that?”
“Rin,” Osamu stares, “would it kill ya to admit yer in the wrong for once?”
His spouse is not wrong, Rintarou can unnecessarily be stubborn at times. He decides to concede; it is their anniversary after all.
“Alright, I’m sorry.” he heaves out a sigh, and stares back at the shorter male, “It should be in the trashcan of our bedroom, I’ll pick it out for you. Satisfied?”
“Ya should’ve said it first,” Osamu relaxes as well, “so that we could spare ourselves from this pointless bicker.”
“Oh fuck you,” Rintarou hisses, earning a low chuckle from the older male.
“Is the old man horny at this time of the day?”
Rintarou has been hearing the nickname quite often ever since his 30th birthday, and it barely unnerves him. “I’m 3 months younger than you, which means you’re one too, ossan.”
All he gets in return is the provoking laughter from the older male as he shuffles behind Rintarou into their bedroom to retrieve his mobile phone.
“So, do you remember what day is it today?” asks Rintarou, fishing the stack of papers out of the trashcan easily, only to look up to see the other furrowing his brows while being on a phone call.
“I’ll be there in a moment,” Osamu hisses out while Rintarou just stares, the other half of his sentence left unsaid in his throat. He dusts off the papers as he watches Osamu hastily gathering his belongings into a bag. Something must have gone wrong in his shop because the ease in his shoulders was gone as quickly as it came.
Rintarou walks up to him. “Here they are.” He almost adds some sarcastic comments but stops when he realizes his husband is not in the best of moods.
“Thanks,” Osamu says, as he skims through them.
“Hey,” Rintarou calls, “are we still on for tonight-”
“Are you sure these are all ya found?” Osamu interrupts, “some of them are still missing.”
Rintarou sighs. “Yeah, I even double-checked. There weren’t much in the can from the beginning.”
“I must’ve left back at the shop then.” Osamu repeats his action, then stuffs the papers into his bag, “What a drag.”
“Why did you even bring it home if you have to take it back to work?”
Osamu does not reply, walks past him to peer into the trashcan as if to confirm Rintarou’s words.
“You know, I can tell tissues and papers apart. I’ve checked thoroughly.” Rintarou informs, as he sits at the edge of the bed and watches his husband. “You’re offending me here.”
“I’m just making sure,” Osamu keeps on staring at the bin, he sounds more frustrated than before.
“You should just head to work,” suggests Rintarou, “the lost receipts won’t magically appear even if you keep staring at the bin.”
“Next time, please do not throw out my stuff, Rin.” The older pleas, grabbing the bag that sits right beside Rintarou on the bed, “We don’t want ta be filing for divorce over some receipts, do we?”
The specific word that came out of Osamu’s mouth instantly freezes Rintarou, and he blinks, wondering if he misheard it for a split second. He focuses his attention on the busy man before him, but Osamu looks like he has no idea of the magnitude of the damage he had inflicted upon him.
He does not even know how long he had zoned out, doing nothing but repeats the word divorce in his head.
“I’ll get going then,” Only when Osamu nudges him on the arms did he tune in. Still, out of his mind, he just nods in return.
Osamu picks up the comforter Rintarou had dropped and plops it on him. “Ya should get back to sleep, ya look dazed.”
“Okay,” he whispers, then adds a small “take care.”
Without further ado, Osamu scurries off, the usual goodbye kiss he frequently leaves on Rintarou’s temple ends up being forgotten. It should not be a surprise, they have not been doing it for quite some time, and Rintarou finds out that he is used to this lack of intimacy between them.
But that does not mean it hurts any less.
*
Rintarou drags himself out of the bed to finally answer this person who was inconsiderate enough to keep on calling despite him ignoring. He had dived right to sleep right after Osamu left, to keep himself distracted, which barely worked anyway.
He looks down at the screen, and to no one’s surprise, it is his sister, of course, she would be the only person in his life to be this obstinate when it comes to annoying him.
“What do you want, Naomi?” Rintarou groggily answers.
“Where are your greetings? This is your only sister calling.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“You’re such a jerk these days,” she clicks her tongue, “and why are you still sleeping at this time of the day?”
“Leave me alone, Naomi.” He complains, “I’m old and retired, I have nothing going on in my life except for eating and sleeping.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Rin-nii.” Naomi scoffs, “You’re just barely over 30. You have a lot more in life.”
“Alright, whatever.” Rintarou switches to the speaker, and places his phone on the counter, “Why are you calling?”
“Geez, you’re no fun.” She snickers, before shifting into a much gentler tone, “Um, about next week—”
Rintarou falls silent, after a beat he asks. “Mom’s memorial? What about it?”
“I’m just calling to remind you about it,” Naomi mutters, “and if you and Samu-nii will be coming home.”
He winces at the mention of the latter’s name, previous fury, and frustration bubbling up once again. And without being able to hold back himself, he snaps at his sister for no reason. “Do you even need to ask? How could I forget the date of mom’s death? I don’t need you to remind me.”
Naomi must have been completely baffled, not a word comes from her side for a little while.
“I’m sorry,” now in regrets, Rintarou immediately blurts out before she could even say anything back in return, “I didn’t mean to get worked up.”
“Rin-nii, you’re not acting like yourself today.” Naomi surprisingly does not sound as mad as he expected her to. “You do know that I’m calling to mostly check in with you.”
“Yeah, I do.” Rintarou sighs, as he leans against the counter, “I’m sorry, Naomi. I’m just…I just had a rough day.”
“Are you okay, Rin-nii?” asks Naomi, her voice shakes when she mutters his name.
“I’m fine,” Rintarou buries his face in his palm, “At least, I think I am.”
“Rin-nii…”
“Maybe it’s because I have too much time on my hand. I’ve only been thinking of the past lately. Life used to be so much easier, you know?” He exhales a breath, “I miss the old times.”
Calloused fingers carding through his hair, a close-up view of the man he loves wearing a gentle smile reserved solely for him.
“Rin…”
The nickname called with so much love and affection. A tender kiss that swarmed him with butterflies.
The memories that just flashed in his brain feel worlds away now, instead of the warm, tingly feeling that the mental images hold, all Rintarou could feel at the moment is the coldness that envelopes him. He presses his eyes shut and holds himself close, trying hard not to think of Osamu’s words.
Would he be able to live without Osamu? Divorce, should he start looking into it now?
“Rin, dear. You’re now a married man, don’t always act so impulsively. Try to compromise a little, you can’t just keep running back home whenever you fight with your husband.”
Rintarou shudders when he was suddenly reminded of the advice from the person he badly longs to see right now.
“Naomi, I miss mom….” With his voice trembling, he finally admits the thought swimming in his head since that dreadful day.
“Oh, Rin-nii…” The young lady starts bawling at the mention, “I miss her so much too.”
They have been dancing around the subject for too long, Rintarou had always refused to express his thoughts aloud, and Naomi never prodded as well. It should’ve been a long time coming, Rintarou had been bottling inside a little too much.
“I’ve been nothing but trouble to her the entire time she was here,” Rintarou sniffs, “but I would trade everything in the world just to have her hug me as always and tell me that everything’s going to be alright.”
“We’re going to be alright, Rin-nii.” Naomi comforts amidst the sobs, “It’s going to take time but we’ll be fine.”
His lips quiver. “I couldn’t even tell her how much I loved her…”
“Rin-nii, you know we should’ve done this way too earlier, we were hurting too much on our own. It must’ve been harder for you because I at least have papa with me.”
“Don’t mind me,” Rintarou insists, wiping the streaks of tears abruptly, “I’m probably just emotionally vulnerable these days.”
“Nii-san, you’re alone, right?” asks Naomi, “I’ll come over, you shouldn’t be on your own right now.”
The declaration manages to calm him down a little, he knows how busy Naomi is, and more than anyone, he knows that his sister will dash right to him. “No, it’s fine. Osamu will be home in a few hours, don’t bother coming. It’s such a long trip.”
“But Rin-nii…”
“I’ll be fine, Naomi.” He claims, “It was just a moment of weakness. I’ll bounce back quickly, don’t worry.”
Still sniffling, she asks. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he forces a smile on his face like it would automatically make him happy, “I’ll get over it like I’ve been doing so.”
“If you say so, nii-san.” Naomi doesn’t sound fully convinced, but she doesn’t push either, “I’ll see you in a few days. Also, don’t carry heavy stuff all on your own when you come, let Samu-nii handle it. I don’t want your leg to act up.”
“But I’m all healed now-”
“There’s nothing wrong in taking precautions.” Naomi scolds, “Just let your husband pamper you.”
Rintarou almost snickers at her words but refrains himself. “We’ll see. I don’t even know if Osamu can make it to Nagoya though. He looks rather busy these days.”
Sharp to realize things, Naomi goes quiet for a few seconds, and carefully she asks. “Are you and Samu-nii still fighting over what happened during mom’s death?”
Rintarou thinks of the one-sided accusations and screams he had thrown at the older male, just so he could have an outlet for his pain and agony. He thinks of the days spent crying alone in their shared bedroom. He thinks of the cracks of their relationship which had started to appear from that point on. The fights and bickers that already felt like a daily routine in their life.
“No, we aren’t. We already talked it out.” No, they have not.
“Are you guys alright?”
“Yeah, we’re good.” Rintarou confirms, but he does not know if those words were to reassure his sister or himself, “We’ll be alright.”
“Nii-san-” He knows this tone, the exact one their mom used whenever he was caught lying.
Before Naomi could interrogate furthermore, Rintarou whips up another lie. “Hey, I think Osamu’s home already. I will talk to you later.”
“Nii-san, we’re still not over this topic.” Naomi warns, “Take care, see you in a few days.”
Rintarou somehow feels more fatigued than before when he ends the call. He sags on the nearby couch and switches the television on for a change of scenario.
Yet, the achingly familiar vibrant yellow uniforms appear on the screen, the faces he used to see all day, the applause and cheers he was so accustomed to, the proud smiles which he had once worn as well.
The Raijins must have won the match again, he immediately flicks off the television and falls back on the couch with the back of the hand on his forehead.
Not that he is not happy for his former teammates, he is glad that they are doing well. But he still is not used to this odd feeling of seeing them win without him to share the victory.
He was not jealous per se. Rintarou had never imagined himself playing volleyball for long anyway, he is not that ambitious nor passionate as other professional players. His achievements were plenty magnificent. He had been in Olympics twice, his team had won a lot of matches, he went to play for an international team for a season, he had practically done everything a professional player could dream of. He had no regrets if he were to halt the activities right there. Nevertheless, it still crushed him when he heard from his physician that he should consider retirement.
It is not like he had not thought about retiring. He pondered about it a lot more than a professional normally would, still, he never found a reason to do so he kept playing. Even after his mom’s death, he briefly considered quitting, but he knew he would be devastated if he were to suddenly take volleyball out of his life too. Much to his dismay, bad fortune seems to come in series. A few months after his mom’s death, he was forced to make this decision, of ceasing one of the few constants in his life.
“That leaves me with only one,” he whispers, before chuckling at the audacity of his own words, “could I even call him that given the situation?”
Once upon a time, Osamu was his anchor, his everything. Rintarou was sure he could take on the entire world with him by his side. But how did things turn out this way? He is not sure himself. Gradually, and slowly, without them realizing, things had fallen apart. A little melancholic to be having these thoughts on their wedding anniversary, but what if happy endings aren’t a thing? Do people fall in love only to hurt each other to the point of falling out?
His phone rings again on his side, it had been doing so for a while. Rintarou is fairly sure it is just his sister being overly protective. Since it has gotten to the point of vexing, he hastily picks up.
“Naomi, how many times do I have to tell you-”
“Rin?”
Rintarou scrutinizes the screen only to see his husband’s picture on the screen. It was taken on their first official date, on their 3rd year of high school. They had been going out even before that but being occupied with volleyball plus with Atsumu stuck to their sides like a thorn, they never had the chance to go out for dates. Rintarou briefly smiles at the memories, high school was a beautiful time, which felt like some sort of dream to him now.
“What now?” Snapping out of his memory lane, the current him chose to bitch at his husband instead. Osamu seems to pick up his nasty mood as well, he stays silent.
“I’m sorry about this morning,” Osamu finally speaks up when Rintarou was about to conclude that he was not going to talk and hang up.
Rintarou stops. “Sorry about what?”
“Of yelling ya?” He hears the rapid shuffling of paper from the other side of the line, Osamu still must be busy. It kind of touched him when he realizes that the older male is calling him to apologize despite all that. “I wasn’t thinking straight, ’m sorry.”
Overall, Rintarou is not fully convinced, especially when he still has not excused himself for bringing up divorce but decides this will do now. There is no point in taking it to his heart, unlike him, Osamu has been busy these few months. His restaurant had been featured on an immensely popular television show so business has been booming. A little compromise from his side will not hurt.
“It’s alright, it was kind of my fault too.”
“No, Rin.” Osamu softly says, “I overreacted.”
“Let’s just forget about it,” he suggests, “it’s not even the first time for us to quarrel over the small stuff.”
Osamu hums. “And also, there’s one more thing I must apologize for.”
“Yeah?”
“I forgot about today,” The previous understanding he had just before instantly takes off. “I only remembered when Chiaki got me congratulatory flowers.”
“So, the only reason why you remembered our anniversary-” Rintarou bites his lips mid-sentence to prevent his voice from shaking, only when he manages to regain his composure, he continues, “was because your secretary got you flowers to congratulate? Wow, I owe your secretary a pretty big one then.”
“Rin.” Osamu pleas when he hears the sarcastic bitter laugh from him, “you know how busy I’ve been these days. It completely slipped my mind. That’s why I told ya I’m sorry in advance. Please don’t be mad. Hmm?”
Rintarou decides not to reply.
“Hey, Rin?”
“Forget it,” he backs down, not feeling like arguing anymore, “at least you didn’t remember at the last minute.”
“But I still remember the plans we made for today.” Osamu tries, “I’ll make it up to ya tonight, alright?”
“I’m going to order the most expensive dish there so you better be prepared.”
“Ya got it, Rin.” Osamu sounds satisfied with his response. “I need ta finish up my paperwork so I won’t be able to pick yer up. Meet me there?”
“Yeah, sure.” Rintarou shrugs, “Continue your thing. I’ll see you in a few hours, Samu.”
“See ya, Rin.” Osamu parrots, “Happy anniversary.”
Rintarou briefly thinks about the absence of “I love you” that used to follow up right after, and hesitantly he replies. “Happy anniversary, Osamu.”
He wonders why he did not say those 3 words back as well.
*
“Sir,” Rintarou looks up from staring mindlessly at the candles lit in front of him, “we’re about to close right now.”
“Oh,” he exclaims, “it’s already that time?”
The waiter nods, he looks sheepish, giving Rintarou a look akin to pity. He probably deserves it, in people’s eyes, he must have been this poor soul who had been stood up by his significant other.
“Please box these up, will you?” He gestures at the cake before him, trying his best not to slip up. His same old indifferent expression comes in handy at times like these. He does not want other people to realize how shaken he is currently feeling from this situation.
“Of course, sir.” The waiter immediately complies, “Please wait here for a moment.”
His façade immediately drops once the other male turns his back to him. He picks up his cellphone momentarily, wondering if he should make a call but decides against it then proceeds to drop his phone.
It should be a record for Rintarou to be away from his phone this long, he did not spare more than a few glances at his phone the entire time he had been waiting for Osamu to appear before him.
He, himself, is not sure what he was so afraid of seeing on his phone. Again, he lets out a deep breath. From the corner of his eyes, he can see some employees grouped and throwing not-so-subtle glances in his direction.
He almost wanted to laugh at their futile effort of trying to look subtle if it were not for how pathetic he looks right now. He wonders if there will be articles that say “The dumped EJP’s middle blocker” with candid pictures of him alone and all dressed up.
“Sir, here you go.” The waiter returns with a properly packed box, “I threw in some candles as well.”
“I don’t think I’ll be celebrating anymore,” Rintarou couldn’t help but say, as he hands him back his credit card with a smile, “but thank you anyway, I appreciate the sentiment.”
The man nods and says something supportive. Though Rintarou is too wrapped up in his head to listen. He does not care about the attention he is getting; he is a little too used to it. But above anything else, it is the glint in his server’s eyes that bothers him. Rintarou does not want to be looked at with such eyes right at the moment. He is not pitiful, this is just one missed date, he had wanted to scream at his face. But who was he kidding? He and Osamu frequent this place and this server had seen all those said dates where Osamu ended up running off for some emergencies.
This is a real shame of walk, Rintarou would say. Entering alone is fine, but coming out of the restaurant, especially one as fancy as this, alone is not fine. He used to not care about things like this in the past, he was the type to not give a damn about other people’s validation. Since when he had started to care about how other people see him. Also, Rintarou had never been the one to put his emotions first, but he recognizes that he has been a little sensitive these days. How could he have changed so much over these past few months? Too many questions, yet he could not come up with an answer.
The walk back home seems surprisingly long without the useless chatters he had with Osamu. The night is lovely, Rintarou should be enjoying the scenery but instead, he keeps his head down the entire time. The crisp spring breeze rushes through his fingertips, and Rintarou imprudently stops in his track to stare at his right hand, his hands feel colder now that Osamu is not there to hold them. The gold band on his ring finger flickers under the neon city light. He reaches for the band to twirl around, then lifts it slightly as if to remove it. He falters when he sees the imprint of the ring on his finger, and pushes it back down.
Rintarou cherishes this ring, with all his heart. Rings are a nuisance in his career, but he played all the matches with the ring on. Even when he bruised his finger from the impact, he never once pulled the ring off. His teammates called him lovesick, and Osamu called him an idiot but a tone full of love as he rubbed some ointments on it. The ring sits there for only 7 years, he had known Osamu much longer than that. They have been each other’s for almost two decades now. He is hesitating this much to pull the ring off, pulling the man himself out of his life will be so much harder.
17 years into their relationship, there is nothing they don’t know about each other. Rintarou understands the supposedly tamer twin is nothing like people expected him to be, that he is just a tad bit better at concealing his real self compared to his outspoken blonde brother. He knows Osamu’s pet peeves, how he takes his coffee in the morning, his excruciatingly detailed way of how he likes his eggs being cooked, Rintarou had seen all the good and bad sides of him, and yet he loved the hell out of the man.
But things have been tough these days, Rintarou does not know how much longer he can hold on. Don’t take him wrong, he still loves Osamu as much as he did when he decided to accept the ring from him. But sometimes he feels like love is not enough to keep this going.
“I’m home,” he declares despite knowing that he is the only one home. He kicks off his shoes at the genkan and much to his surprise, he sees his husband’s pair of shoes discarded haphazardly. Anger flares up inside him, he is at home, and yet he could not bring himself to at least phone him that he would not make it to their date? He did not stop once to consider that Osamu never leaves his shoes this way no matter how tired he gets.
He stomps into the living room. “Mind explaining why you’re here, Miya Osamu?”
Osamu looks up from his slouch, there are few bottles of beer scattered before him. His eyes are bloodshot red.
“Rin, can ya give me some space today? I’m not really in the mood right now.”
“Oh, trust me.” He sneers back, “I’m fucking feeling fantastic as well.”
Osamu exhales loudly, and he stands up. “Did I do somethin’ again? I’m sorry whatever it is.”
Rintarou scoffs, his previous rage increasing tenfold. “Seriously? I know how busy you are and I’ve been trying to understand because that’s what you’d done with my career. But even I didn’t fuck up this bad, Osamu.”
He inhales, before staring straight into the other’s eyes and asks. “Why didn’t you come?”
“Oh,”
“Oh? Just that? We even talked on the phone barely before the appointed time.” Rintarou questions. “How could you suddenly not show up?”
“Look, Rin.” Osamu extends out an arm, “I had the most terrible day at the-”
“Even so, could you not spare a minute to let me know that you can’t make it? Just one goddamn message, Osamu. I wouldn’t be disappointed if you had sent a few words.” Rintarou backs down before the older male could reach him, “But you didn’t. So, I waited 5 hours pathetically, thinking you would show up until the employee had to literally kick me out.”
“I’m sorry, alright?” Osamu throws up his hands in despair, “It must’ve been embarrassing for ya. I won’t do it again.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Osamu grits his teeth. “Rintarou...”
“Don’t look at me like that, Osamu. I know you don’t genuinely feel sorry.” His voice staggers with fury, “How could you say that you’re sorry when you couldn’t even remember what you had done wrong in the first place? You’re just saying it because it’s the easy way out. You don’t care about my feelings at all.”
“What-”
“And I’m not making a big deal outta it because it was embarrassing for me.” Rintarou clarifies, “It’s how insignificant you made me feel tonight.”
“I didn’t mean to, alright?” says Osamu, frustrated, then he draws in a sharp breath and softens his voice into the tone that never failed to calm Rintarou down. “Rin, can we not do this right now? We’ll talk about it some other day, I’ll make it up to ya, I promise. But today-”
But the tone no longer has the same effect on Rintarou, rather, his barely contained tolerance snaps. “If not now, when? After we divorce?”
“Huh?” Osamu looks so taken aback, and Rintarou almost smirks in satisfaction. “Rin, why are ya talkin’ about divorce out of nowhere?”
“You were the first one to bring it up, remember?”
Osamu furrows his brows as if he has no recollection of his own words.
“This morning, you said it.” Rintarou helpfully supplies, “That we shouldn’t be filing for a divorce over a small quarrel.”
“Geez, Rin.” Osamu groans, “That was a joke. How could ya even take it seriously?”
“Well, it sure doesn’t sound like one to me.”
“Yer being so difficult lately,” Osamu tousles his hair, “I sincerely apologize for bringin’ it up. I’ll do better next time so please let this go for once. Tomorrow, ya can do whatever ya want to m if it makes you feel better.”
“You think I’m being difficult?” He scoffs, “Take a look at yourself first, Miya Osamu.”
“This is exactly what I meant when I said yer being difficult,” Osamu hisses back, “I’m not doing well today which is why I’m begging ya to take this to another day and yet ya just couldn’t stop nagging me.”
He couldn’t help the bitter laugh that roars out of his throat. “Oh, now you think I’m bothering you as well.”
“I never said that,” Osamu pulls a fist, his eyes gleam with rage. “Rintarou, why are you so quick to assume? What’s your problem? What more can I do for you to be content?”
The fight he has been putting up exits his body all at once and he is left fatigued. “I must’ve seemed like this over-dramatic person to you right now.”
“You’re right. I jumped to conclusions, I kept grumbling. I have lots of problems, and perhaps there’s nothing else you can do to make me happy.” Rintarou murmurs, “I’ve changed in a way, which I still can’t figure out whether it’s a good or a bad thing. I feel like I’m not the same old Suna Rintarou you fell in love with anymore.”
“Rintarou,” Osamu steps forward, panic visibly seeping into his previously enraged body, “what are you talking about?”
The referred male heaves in a deep breath as if to finalize his decision. “Osamu, I think we should-”
“No,” The older male grabs his wrist, “don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
“There’s no point in delaying the inevitable.” Rintarou stares into those grey-tinged orbs that used to bring him comfort. But at the moment, all he could feel is agony. “We should file for a divorce.”
Osamu tightens the hold on his wrist. “I told you not to finish it.”
“Listen to me, Osamu.” He pulls away from the iron grasp. “Deep down, I know you feel the same.”
“No,” The older of the two digs his fingers on Rintarou’s shoulder blades, “I don’t feel the same. We’re not filing for divorce, this is absurd.”
“You should stop being in denial, it’s not going to help.” Rintarou once again tries to shrug off his grip, “Why would you deliberately bring up the topic if you had never thought about it?”
“You’re not making sense at all…”
“Then look me in the eyes and tell me,” Rintarou challenges, “that it never crossed your mind. Not for once.”
“I’ve never once-” Osamu tries to say, then his steady gaze flickers downwards, “I-”
“See?” He scorns.
“But that doesn’t mean we need to go down that path,” The chef looks up, “We can make it work.”
“Can we?” Rintarou blinks away the tears that suddenly started to brim up, “Can we fix this? I don’t think so.”
“Rintarou, I’m begging you. Let’s talk tomorrow alright? When I’m sober, and when you’re back to yourself.”
“I meant it, Osamu.” He declares, “I’m totally myself.”
“Ya need to calm down, yer not thinkin’ straight from fury.” convinces Osamu, “I’m sorry for today. How about we drop this for a little while, and discuss it after we clear our heads?”
“Oh, trust me. I have never been this composed for the past few months.”
“I don’t see why we should make a big deal out of this.” His eyes flare up once more; his spouse is prone to impatience when he is drunk, a contrast to his normal self. “You’re getting upset over nothing.”
“Nothing?” Suna scoffs, “It must’ve been so for you but it sure isn’t nothing for me. I’ve been putting up with this for a long time, Osamu. I’m not sure how long I can tolerate this any longer.”
“But do we need to talk about divorce?” Osamu’s voice cracks at the very end, “How about-”
“You know we’re not working out,” Rintarou stares straight at his spouse, and Osamu wavers. “Who are we trying to fool?”
“You’re being so fucking selfish right now, Rintarou.” Osamu inches closer, fists pulled up on his sides. Rintarou almost thinks he is about to get punched but the other male stays firm. “You can’t just spout all the things you want without giving me a chance to explain nor talk.”
He purses his lips and does not say anything more.
“What do you want right now, Rin? What do you want me to do?” Osamu whispers.
Rintarou’s heart somehow breaks at the other male’s tone, but he is too drained himself to care.
“I don’t know.” In all his honesty, he says. “I don’t know.”
Osamu steps closer, but Rintarou buries his face in his hands, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Rintarou,” the shorter male gently pries, “look at me.”
He shakes his head and drops down to the floor in resignation.
“I’m exhausted, Osamu.” He takes a deep breath to keep himself from breaking down, “I’m honestly so tired.”
“Rin…”
Then, he stares up at his spouse, no longer able to withhold the tears threatening to fall. Osamu’s extended hand halts before it reaches Rintarou.
“We should stop this, we’re destroying each other. We’re too unhappy together.” He sees Osamu’s jaws clenching. “I’m unimaginably unhappy right now.”
Osamu tries to open his mouth to say something but seems to waver when he sees Rintarou’s tears.
“Okay….” Acceptance flashes on his face, he repeats the word as if trying to convince himself. He clenches his fist, likely to brace himself for the big decision. “Fine, if that’s what you want. I’m also tired of meaningless fights.”
Rintarou knows he is the one to suggest, but it hurts when Osamu agreed to it rather easily.
“Alright, we’re done.” Rintarou confirms, wiping the tears streaks with the back of his hand, “we’re done for good.” He chants it like some mantra to get rid of the devastation lodged in his chest.
Osamu watches him collect himself off the floor with an expression he couldn’t decipher. However, Rintarou couldn’t watch him any longer, he does not know what he will end up doing if he stays there. Ignoring the pang in his chest and the heavy warning that’s going on inside his head, he turned his back to the love of his life and stepped into the room that was once their love nest.
Once in this room, resides Miya Osamu and Miya Rintarou, the high school sweethearts who couldn’t seem to stay away from each other for a split second. But Rintarou now sits alone, with nothing but coldness to accompany him as he curls himself up against the headboard, trying to keep the welling tears at bay.
*