Work Text:
Shouta had heard that falling in love could light up your life with all the colors of the world.
Each individual had their own perception of colors, whether they were already born with a bright, colorful world, or then only began to perceive colors when they fell in love, romantically or platonically, with people and everyday-life.
Shouta’s world had only ever been gray.
Shouta couldn’t remember the last time his days weren’t just a dark, gray mass woven together into a blanket of exhaustion, isolation and a never-ending cycle of ‘eat, work, sleep’ that surrounded him and his life.
Shouta usually woke up early on workdays, if he wasn’t already woken up by nightmares or his incurable insomnia in the darkest hours of the night. The sky outside of his bedroom window was always black. Even the streetlights looked sickly pale, no sign of the sparkling night life Shouta despised anyway. On the weekends, Shouta sometimes managed to stay asleep until the sun warmed his face, but even then the sky quickly filled with gray clouds, no sign of the blue everyone around him was talking about.
During the mornings, Shouta fought off his gut-feeling to go back to sleep, knowing that it could never be that easy to fall back into his dreams that also lacked color. He might as well go to work to fund his modest lifestyle, to keep up some sort of normalcy and pretend that he actually cared for his standards in life.
His apartment had been already decaying in his hands when Shouta bought the tiny one-bedroom three years ago. It was cheap, it was quiet, and it didn’t try to provoke him with colorful walls or furniture. The walls were bare and white when he bought it, and Shouta had chosen furniture to fit the same aesthetic.
When Shouta walked to work in the mornings, he was just one of the colorless mass of people around him. There was no need for him to stand out, to make himself known, and his plain clothing choices presented that as well.
Some people still wanted to try, with make-up, with patterns and stripes, expensive jewelry or crazy hairdos. Everyone was hoping that one day, someone would notice their unique colors, and then fall in love with the colors their partner brought into their life.
Shouta was fine staying gray.
He rode the subway for eight stops, got off, walked past the same pet store, a hairdressers, a bank and at least three coffee shops. On the days that he felt a bit brighter, he bought a cup of coffee from one of them, the one with a moody teenager on the counter, rather than an overenthusiastic young woman with hair pins and too-bright smiles. It was too much color for Shouta.
But even if the world looked boring and bleak, Shouta at least enjoyed the stimulation from his other senses: there wasn’t many things better than the taste of freshly ground black coffee.
He meandered to work with dragging, slow steps, his exhaustion usually catching up to him at this point. Shouta always took the elevator- even if it was full, he waited for another one to come down. His desk at the office work was empty, but for the computer and a few piles of neatly stacked paperwork for the day.
Shouta pretended that he didn’t hear what was talked behind his back.
Whether they talked about his plain clothes, his black, messy hair, his unresponsive attitude or just his lack of color didn’t matter to Shouta- he was fine, living in his own world. They didn’t know what the world looked like to him, so they couldn’t understand.
Still, he could’ve managed without his colleagues always walking into him in the narrow hallways, how they asked Shouta to move from taking up so much space in the cafeteria, the extra work that somehow always landed on his table. But they were all just little inconveniences in his life, draining the color that wasn’t there anymore.
When did he last see colors? Was it when he was still a young boy, dreaming of blue uniforms and red firetrucks? Or the first time he realized how beautiful the eyes of the new boy in class were? Or at university, when he walked into the classroom for the first time, seeing a group of little children dressed in the funniest color combinations?
He didn’t really remember anymore. He wasn’t sure what color those eyes of his first crush had been, how red the strawberries from his aunt’s yard were, or what his own favorite color was.
Later in his life, he had realized that he needed to leave all that color behind, it didn’t suit him, it wasn’t meant for him. Now, closing into his thirties, Shouta wondered if everyone around him just pretended to see colors, if it was just what they wanted to believe. Was everyone’s life just as gray as Shouta’s, or was he the only one left in the darkness, left behind from the wonders of life?
His workday continued, filling and filing white papers with black numbers, going to lunch for another coffee and tasteless ramen, returning to his work desk for more hours of staring at a computer screen, then sitting at a meeting quietly, listening to more powerful, successful people whine and complain about their workers not working enough.
After five, Shouta walked out of the desolate office, beginning his way back home.
In the afternoon, the commuters were louder, they were speaking to their phones, laughing, couples walking hand in hand, living their colorful lives after work and school. No one seemed to notice the gray Shouta, they didn’t care for someone who had lost their colors, hadn’t found anything to color his life with. He felt like the only one living in black and white, the black hole no one wanted to interact with, in fear of him sucking in all their colors too.
But still, Shouta was fine with it. He didn’t need something he was so used to living without.
Shouta passed the coffee shop which was more filled with people than in the mornings, the hairdressers where loud music was coming from. The city had come to life, but Shouta didn’t spare it a glance.
The pet store was just closing too, and Shouta could see the kittens being fed through the window. One of them had red eyes.
Shouta stepped into the crowded subway again, ignoring the people shoving him further and further.
Soon he’d be at his front door, walk in and stare a few hours at the television screen, the moving pictures of black and white, until he ate a bland dinner right out of a convenience store shelf, showered to get some relaxation and warmth into his body and go to bed.
He’d close his eyes and welcome the darkness, only to wake up to the same gray-scale in the morning. That’s how his life went on, daily.
Still, occasionally Shouta turned to stare at the trees and flowers, hoping they would wake some kind of a response in him. In the darkest hour, he wished that maybe, maybe there was someone out there who could bring color into his life as well.
“Wait!”
A sudden scream came from Shouta’s side, and a hand pulled on his shoulder, making Shouta stumble a few steps backwards.
He turned furiously to the person who had grabbed him, furrowing his brows and flashing an irritated grimace at the man behind him.
This wasn’t a part of his daily routine.
The man’s big eyes widened at Shouta’s expression, quickly withdrawing his hand from Shouta’s shoulder. “S-Sorry, it’s just- the traffic light was red. Didn’t you see?” The man pointed cautiously above them where the traffic light changed from gray to another shade.
“I wasn’t looking.” Shouta answered sincerely.
“Um- are- are you okay?” the man asked again, an awkward smile on his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Huh?” Shouta was confused by the question.
He had never seen this man before, taller than him, wearing a similar combination of straight pants and a button-up. They looked like something with a lot of color, though. He was wearing rings on his fingers, his long hair in a neat braid behind him. The man had long lashes, a weird mustache and big, round eyes that Shouta felt could almost see through his soul.
He wondered what color they were.
“I have just seen you on the subway for a while now- not, like, everyday, I’m not stalking, but I’ve kept my eye on you, because- well, doesn’t matter, but I just wanted to ask you because you looked like you wanted someone to? Y’know?” The man smiled again, more confidently.
“I don’t know.” Shouta turned to walk across the street, the man following behind him.
“Oh, sorry, then! I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything..” The man stayed silent to wait for Shouta’s answer. He said nothing. “So, you work around here?”
Apparently, they were going to the same direction.
“I wouldn’t take the subway if I did.”
“Right.” The man smiled, his cheeks darkening slightly when Shouta glanced at him. “I work like five stops away. It’s a really nice area, there’s so many parks and the streets are full of nice restaurants! I really love how lively it is after work.” The man rambled.
“Hm.” Of course he did. Shouta grunted, he didn’t want to be rude, but he really wasn’t interested.
“Do you like living here?”
“I don’t really care where I live. It’s good enough for me.”
“Yeah, I mean, I think the same.” The man soon backtracked. Shouta’s lips quirked up reluctantly as the other blushed again and tried to fix the atmosphere. “I just moved a month ago, but I like the neighborhood. I feel like everyone’s so nice, and- and I really love listening to people’s stories, y’know? I feel like there’s so much in this world to discover, to many stories untold, yo! So much I can’t yet see.. But! Better start somewhere, amiright?” He laughed.
The man was pretty interesting, Shouta listened quietly for a while as the man listed more things that he liked, what interested him, what had made him happy that day.
Usually, Shouta was irritated by people who bragged about all the color in their lives. Shouta didn’t care, nor did he need it shoved in his face. But this man, he seemed to appreciate and respect the things he found colorful, just as Shouta stayed humble in his own gray world.
This man was bright, every word from his mouth, every gesture and expression exploding with color. Shouta knew that this man lived in-color, he was embraced by the colors, even Shouta could tell that.
So how had he noticed the gray Shouta, the colorless, ugly spot, staining this man’s day?
It was only a matter of time that the man would realize that Shouta couldn’t see the same as him.
“Ah, the cherry trees are starting to bloom soon! It’s gonna look so beautiful when they do!”
Shouta glanced at the man again, intrigued. “You like those colors?”
“Yeah! Who wouldn’t?” The man laughed. “You don’t?” His smile fell.
Shouta just shrugged.
“Sorry, I feel like I’m just annoying you, and forcing my opinions on you.. I just- You caught my eye, kind of? You’re so different from everyone else, you’re calm and you don’t seem to be swept up with unnecessary things in life. When I first saw you, I just couldn’t stop looking. There’s something captivating about you, I just don’t know what..”
“I don’t think I’m really captivating.” Shouta turned away. The man had just seen wrong, he was mistaken. He was completely different from this man, it was irrational-
“I see it. Something inside of you that you’re not letting out- or don’t want let out. I wish- I could make you see too.”
Shouta stopped, turning to face the taller man. He stared into Shouta’s eyes just as intently as Shouta did to his. They were grey but Shouta didn’t need their color to know they were deep, thoughtful, honest.
“I-I’m sorry, I stepped over the line. I just can’t describe what it is about you-“
“Aizawa Shouta.”
“Um, what?” The man focused back on Shouta’s eyes, like he was drawn to Shouta’s presence. Shouta felt the same pull too.
“I take the same subway every day. You can tell me your name next time.” Shouta smirked.
“No, it’s- Himada, I mean Yamada Hizashi!” The man stumbled, as Shouta took a turn onto his street. Yamada seemed to continue straight. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” He bit his lip, waving with a wide smile.
When the man turned to walk away, the sun decided to appear behind the clouds. It hit the back of Yamada’s head and Shouta swore he had seen golden.
---
The next morning, Shouta woke into the familiar darkness again. He hadn’t expected anything to change anyway. The encounter from the last night hung in his mind like a dream, unbelievable and irrational but it continued to be the only thing on Shouta’s mind, nevertheless.
He couldn’t describe the man’s, Yamada’s, colors but he distinctly remembered the strawberry smell of his hair, his bright laugh in Shouta’s ear, the warmth of his hand clinging onto Shouta’s shoulder..
Shouta got out of bed, walked to work, clocked out at five and took the subway home. All day he had hoped for just a glimpse of golden, or maybe a high-toned greeting, a wide smile.
Maybe he had hoped for too much.
Yamada never showed up. Or maybe they missed each other. But the one speck of color he had been hoping to see had not been there.
The next day, he just wanted to go back to the familiarity, fall back into the world where he didn’t try to look for color.
But he still found it. Or the color, somehow, found him.
His coffee wasn’t black anymore- more like, dark brown as it warmed his fingers in the chilly morning. And the teenager who handed it to him had remembered his order, smiling tiredly and wishing Shouta a ‘good day’, he seemed to have purple, or maybe dark blue, hair.
And the man who appeared next to him, when Shouta walked home, his eyes were..
“Hey.” Yamada smiled. “I worked late yesterday, sorry. I don’t know if you even remembered, but..”
“I did.” Shouta answered honestly.
“Really?! I mean, that’s, umm.. nice.” Shouta could see the man trying to hold back a smile. He didn’t understand why. If the man was happy, why was he holding himself back?
“What do you do for work?”
“Oh, music! Or I’m interning at a radio station, still, but maybe someday I might be able to actually work on a show or play some of my own.” Yamada explained.
“Music? But you can’t see music.” Shouta was sure that the man would be working with art, maybe photography or design, something.. colorful.
“I don’t need to, though? I can still enjoy it, I can still feel music. To me, music is about how it makes me feel, not what it looks or even sounds like.”
The blond smiled as Shouta listened carefully. He always thought people just wanted more and more color, not even interested in other parts and enjoyments of life, like Shouta. And like Yamada, apparently. It made Shouta feel like there was more to life than just the color of it.
Wait, blond.
“You have blond hair.”
Yamada’s cheeks darkened, possibly at the sudden comment.
“Oh, I guess. I don’t know if I like the color though. It’s.. I’m not sure what I think of it, what it even is.” He took the braid in his hand, drawing his fingers on top of it.
Shouta furrowed his brows. How could he not see?
“I think it’s beautiful.”
Yamada turned away. “R-Really? I don’t know. But I guess I won’t change it then.” He turned back, a wide smile on his face. “You have pretty eyes, though. I can’t really- tell what color they are. But it doesn’t matter! I can still like them, right?” Yamada grinned.
“I guess you can.” Shouta smiled back.
---
Shouta found himself spending his subway ride to home with Yamada, every day, almost without exceptions.
After a few weeks, Yamada started insisting they go to one of his favorite coffee shops, for ice cream (in March, but Shouta allowed it), even to a karaoke on an especially long night together.
In Yamada’s presence, Shouta continued to stray from his routines, the endless cycle that had become his life.
And even if it was mostly gray, Shouta found joy in it.
Like in Yamada telling him stories about his work, his travels around the country, the funny joke Yamada heard on the radio, the old friend he had met on the weekend. Yamada’s tendency to get flustered from the slightest compliments, his kindness to the people around him, his passion for all the music and sound around him.
All these things about Yamada were so fascinating, though they were so mundane and daily. He continued to boggle Shouta, how he found so much to enjoy in the simplest, most uninteresting things. Like in Shouta.
Yamada didn’t value things in color, just like Shouta never had either. But Yamada saw deeper- he saw the potential of the grayest and the ways to improve in the most colorful.
Maybe he had seen something hidden in Shouta all along, maybe he saw all the color Shouta had locked inside of himself, years ago. Or maybe he just saw the person beyond the colors, the lonely, depressed, isolated Shouta that had just needed someone to notice him for what he really was.
Shouta thought that when he fell in love he’d finally be able to describe it in colors.
But he couldn’t. He could only describe it in the low, yellow glow from the candle that reflected in Yamada’s skin in the dim lighting of the restaurant, in the black pants and maroon sweater Yamada was wearing that night, in the blond hair, loose and falling over Yamada’s face as he animatedly told about his day as they waited for their dishes.
And afterwards, when Yamada leaned in and pressed their bodies together in the dim alleyway, in the pinkish blush that was blooming on Yamada’s face, the red lip gloss that ended up smeared onto Shouta’s, the impossibly green eyes that stared back at him when they parted.
How had he never seen those eyes? How hadn’t Shouta ever noticed this man in the subway, so often in his vicinity?
He had never tried to look.
“Oh, I never noticed.” Hizashi smiled as Shouta raised his brow. “Your eyes. I knew they were brown, but.. I think there’s a hint of gold in them.”
When Shouta arrived home that day, he took a look at himself in the mirror, better than he had done in years, focusing on his own eyes. He blinked a few times, trying to see what Yamada had meant.
Oh.
He never noticed. There really was a bit of gold in them.
----
Shouta’s world had only ever been gray. He was so used to it that he stopped looking for color, he stopped believing that even other people saw color, because where could they possibly see it?
“Shouta, look!” Hizashi pulled him forward, their hands intertwined tightly. Shouta loved the warmth, the feeling that holding his partner’s hand gave him in the pit of his stomach. And he liked looking at Hizashi’s painted nails. “The cherry blossoms have bloomed! They’re such a pretty color!”
Shouta looked up, eyeing the tree Hizashi had dragged them under. A petal fell onto his hand, and Shouta couldn’t help chuckling as he looked at it.
“They are.”