Archive of Our Own

When it comes to the wedding, Suna is totally clueless about all of it. This is entirely by choice. 

In front of him, Osamu frets over some issue with the wedding venue. Or the flowers, or the food, or maybe all three. He wouldn’t know. But he does know that his fiancé looks stressed out. Every now and then he reaches up to tug his dark hair, hands traveling down from his head to fiddle with the pen on the table or to excessively tap at the space bar on his laptop. Suna kind of feels bad. Ideally, he would be sitting next to Osamu, cracking jokes and doing research to try and take off some of the pressure. 

Instead, he’s standing in the kitchen doorway, scratching the back of his leg with his foot and thinking about how he would be taking off the pressure of the wedding from Osamu in a different way. 

“Osamu.”

“Yeah, baby? Sorry, I’ll come to bed in a sec, there’s just a problem with the caterer and I still haven’t figured out which florist is offering better prices,” the other man huffs as he fixes his crooked glasses. 

“Maybe that’s for the better.” 

“What?” Osamu looks up, gray eyes wide. 

“I’m just saying, there’s not many things set in stone for the wedding yet…” he trails off.

“How is that for the better? I know we agreed on not having the ceremony and stuff right away but it’s been a couple months since we got engaged.”

Osamu is frustrated. His hands gesture as he describes more information that Suna can’t bring himself to care for. Instead, he focuses on the ring that glints everytime Osamu’s left hand flails around. It’s pretty. 

“These things have to be planned months in advance-”

“I want to call off the engagement,” Suna interrupts. “I don’t want to get married.” 

“I- what? Rin, you…what?”

Osamu is breathless, hands stilling and fluttering for a moment, unsure, until they settle on taking off his glasses. He slowly settles back down and rests his elbows on his knees, head in hands. Suna stays quiet from where he stands in the doorway. 

“Why?” He whispers through his hands. Suna doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have a real answer. “Ya sound so sure about this.”

“I am.”

“So…you don’t want to marry me?” Osamu looks up at him with those gray eyes Suna fell in love with. Eyes he still loves. And yet.

“No, I’m sorry. I can’t...not now, I can’t do this.” 

He can’t say why because he doesn’t know why. Or, he knows why and doesn’t know how to say it. Suna can’t tell which it is and Osamu, sweet Osamu, can tell that he’s struggling. So as usual, he accommodates Suna.

“Alright then.” 

Silence dances around them for several minutes, neither of them sure of what to say or willing to look at the other until Osamu speaks up. “So are we breaking up?” He asks, voice cracking at the end of his sentence.

“No?” Were they? “No! I love you...still.” He gulps, praying that Osamu doesn't pick up on his hesitance. “I just…” 

“You don’t wanna marry me anymore, got it,” his boyfriend says firmly. “Okay.” More softly, “Okay.” 

They put the rings away. 

Osamu takes a deep breath and musters a smile. 

“I know, it’s shocking,” he starts, “but me and Rin talked and it’s just a lot to deal with right now.” He pauses. “I know, Ma, I know.” 

In the background, the fridge is humming loudly. It irritates Osamu but there’s not much he can do about it right now. Suna is humming along with the fridge, which pisses him off a lot more, so he taps the table in his boyfriend’s direction and makes a gesture for him to stop. It stops for a moment and he’s able to tune into his mother’s endless questions, but then the humming picks up, although much quieter.

“Ma, listen, I’ll tell ‘Tsumu okay? He’s coming over later.”

Suna startles and the humming stops suddenly. Internally, Osamu smirks.

Good , he thinks, now who’s thrown off?  

Call him petty, but Suna had escaped a lot of the stress related to this wedding since they had gotten engaged, and then called it off. So if Osamu conveniently forgot to tell him that his brother was spending the evening with them, it was totally an accident. He looks towards the other man, eager to catch a glimpse of his expression and isn’t disappointed to see startled green eyes and hunched up shoulders. Osamu hangs up with his mother, saying goodbye.

Suna picks his nails, avoiding eye contact. It doesn’t work for long, though, because when he looks back up Osamu is already staring at him. 

“She was upset, I assume?”

“Of course she was, Rin,” Osamu rolls his eyes. “Did ya tell your family yet?”

His boyfriend nods and Osamu sighs in relief. Talking to his own family has been hard enough. He didn’t know what he would do if he had to handle talking to Suna’s side too. How long had they known Suna was planning on breaking it off? Were they just as shocked as he was? Or had they been silently judging Osamu, wondering when he would take the hint and see that Suna didn’t love him. 

He jerks back in his seat, ignoring Suna’s stares. No, Suna does love him. He just isn’t ready for a whole wedding ceremony. Or the commitment that comes with marriage and calling someone your “fiancé”, apparently. He loves Osamu. He said so himself. Things were fine. They were fine. 

“Osamu? You okay?”

Across the table, Suna looks concerned, eyes wandering all over Osamu’s figure to see if he’s hurt anywhere. His hand hovers over the table like he’s ready to push himself out of his seat and rush over to Osamu like Suna is his savior. 

“Ah, ‘m good. Just forgot to start dinner before ‘Tsumu gets here.”

“You didn’t tell me he was coming over,” he complains. 

“It slipped my mind, Rin, I’m sorry.” Osamu starts boiling some water and washing vegetables. “I’ve been really busy lately.”

They both know what he is referring to. Suna sighs heavily but doesn’t continue the conversation.

Osamu kind of hates it when he does that. Instead of voicing what he feels, he just…stops. Sometimes it makes Osamu feel like he doesn’t trust him. He knows Suna’s feelings aren’t about him necessarily, so he tries not to center himself when it comes to the other’s actions. But Suna’s constipation consistently affects their relationship, whether Suna realizes or cares that it does. 

Osamu definitely does. He cares so much. And sometimes it’s nice to know that your partner cares just as much as you do.

“Communication is important, ‘Samu,” is what Atsumu tells him later when he voices his concerns to him while they’re washing dishes. 

Before his brother had arrived for dinner, Osamu and Suna had agreed to tell him after they ate. That way, if the blonde had a bad reaction, they wouldn’t have to suffer through the awkwardness of a shared meal. Currently, Suna is waiting for the two of them to finish cleaning up in the living room. Or the bathroom. Osamu can’t remember where his boyfriend had walked off to.

“I know that, scrub,” he rolls his eyes. He passes Atsumu a clean dish to dry off. 

“Alright so why haven’t ya told him any of this? For whatever reason, Sunarin won’t talk to ya about stuff that’s bothering him. And it’s bothering you ,” Atsumu stops drying the plate and turns around so his back is leaning against the counter. He looks at Osamu seriously. “Something’s gotta give, yer getting married soon.”

Osamu scoffs internally. Yeah something was giving, alright. Actually, now would be the perfect moment to tell Atsumu that the wedding was off. But he and Suna agreed to do it together…fuck it. It's his business just as much as it is Suna's. He has every right to tell his own twin the news on his own time. 

“About that,” he starts nervously, “we aren’t.” There. He said it. 

“What?”

“What the hell, Osamu?” 

Suna steps into the kitchen with an irritated expression on his face. Osamu doesn’t look him in the eyes, choosing to squeeze the sponge in his hand and watch the soapy liquid dribble into the sink. Atsumu reaches over to shut the faucet off, looking between him and Suna. 

“Is this some sort of joke?” He demands.

“No,” Suna sighs, dragging his palm down his face and ruffling his hair. “It’s not. We’re not engaged anymore.”

“Why not?!” Surprisingly, Atsumu sounds just as devastated as Osamu felt when he first heard those words from Suna himself.

“I called it off,” Suna replies simply. As if it’s that easy. Osamu wonders if he’s being dramatic for not understanding how nonchalant his boyfriend is about all of this. Judging by Atsumu’s expression, it’s not that easy and Osamu is not being dramatic. Then again, they are Miyas. Still, he gets the feeling that anyone else would be feeling hurt in his situation.

“And you’re okay with this, ‘Samu?” Atsumu whirls around to face Osamu, eyes frantic. 

Osamu gulps. There’s no point in lying to either Suna or Atsumu, but he doesn’t want to hurt Suna’s feelings. So he looks down at his feet and sighs. 

“I have to be, don’t I?” He doesn’t get an answer. “It’s fine, ‘Tsumu, he's just not ready yet.” 

That’s what Osamu is assuming anyways. Maybe he’ll never be ready. He doesn’t even know if that’s the real reason, since Suna didn’t really give him a reason for calling it off. All he knows is that Suna doesn’t want to marry him anymore. 

And that he still loves you , he reminds himself. 

Atsumu, always able to read Osamu’s mind when it counts, much like Osamu can do to him, only shakes his head but drops the issue. Suna looks surprised but satisfied, sending a pang through Osamu’s chest. Suddenly, he wants Atsumu to throw a fit and raise hell, so that Suna could feel at least some sort of stress or the panic that Osamu has been dealing with. But Atsumu isn’t going to do that. Instead, he’ll probably swing by the shop and pull Osamu aside in a few days and force him to talk about what he’s actually feeling. 

For now, Atsumu hugs him tight on his way out the door home, and he and Suna share an uneasy silence. Osamu knows that Suna is upset at him for telling Atsumu without him. But Osamu, who has been feeling more bitter than he’s ever felt in his entire life lately, doesn’t care. This entire situation has been out of his control. This is the least Suna can deal with. 

Still, he goes to bed feeling guilty, the irritated look on Suna’s face circling the back of his eyelids as he tries to sleep in their bed alone, making its rounds until it morphs into one of disappointment and sadness, green eyes looking everywhere but at Osamu. In the living room, he can hear Suna sleeping peacefully on the couch, his nose whistling every now and then. 

Once again, he’s left feeling bitter.

It gets harder and harder to watch Osamu. Everyday Suna wakes up feeling lighter without the pressure of the wedding, and everyday Osamu looks as if he’s being weighed down, forced underwater with bricks tied to his ankles. It’s not a good look for the other man and Suna does feel guilty. But at the same time he’s feeling…happy, he thinks, something he doesn’t think he’s felt in a long time, and it would be cruel for Osamu to take that away from him. It would be cruel for Suna to take away that happiness from himself. 

He can admit that the heavy weight on Osamu’s shoulders comes from Suna’s inability to be straightforward about his own feelings. It’s not that he doesn’t love Osamu anymore. He does. Over the past couple of months he’s been able to affirm at least that to himself. Suna just can’t figure out if he loves Osamu enough to stay with him. Clearly, he can’t give Osamu what he wants when it comes to planning a future together. All he can offer Osamu is uncertainty, and even through his selfishness, Suna can tell that’s unfair to the other man. 

In turn, Suna is starting to feel stressed. The easy solution would be, of course, to talk about his feelings and just tell Osamu what’s going through his head every time his eyes land on broad shoulders and dark hair. But most of the time, Suna doesn’t know what’s going on in his head. To this day, he can’t articulate why he called off the engagement. All he knows is that the idea of marrying Osamu began to fill him with dread each time something related to the event was confirmed. Eventually, sleeping next to Osamu made Suna feel stuffy, like his head was filled with cotton and the world was on mute, and simple things like hugging his fiancé after a long day of work felt daunting. It felt permanent. Like Suna was trapped in a cage and couldn’t escape. 

But after months of feeling that way, he realized the key was in his face the entire time, and all he had to do was stretch a little further and grab hold of his freedom. So he called off the engagement. He didn’t know how to explain all of that to Osamu without hurting him, and he didn’t know how to answer the inevitable question of why he was feeling that way.

Once again, the key is within his reach. He’ll take that step for both himself and Osamu.

“Aren’t you tired, Osamu?” Suna asks one day.

Osamu is sitting on the couch, lazily folding clothes, and Suna sits on the floor, mindlessly staring at the blank television screen. His phone sits in his hand unlocked, his Twitter feed startlingly bright.

“Of folding these clothes? Yeah,” he drops a shirt on Suna’s face. “It’d be nice if ya could help me out here, Rin.”

“Not what I meant,” he mumbles. He lets the shirt sit on his face, inhaling the clean linen smell and letting the warmth relax his nerves. Above him, he hears Osamu hum and feels a toe poke him in his back, as if to ask him what he means. It’s this easy, silent communication that breaks Suna. He feels tears begin to well behind his closed eyelids, and takes a deep breath to try and keep them from overflowing. 

“I meant us. Aren’t you tired of us?”

Unlike what Suna was expecting, Osamu’s reply comes almost instantly. “No. Are you?” It feels almost as if Osamu is challenging Suna, like he’s trying to start a fight with him. 

“Yeah,” he responds. The tears have retreated by now, so Suna doesn’t fight it when the shirt is lifted from his face, the bright light of their living room lamp forcing his eyes to stay closed.

“Rin?” Osamu sounds panicked. “Rin!” His eyes are still closed but he can tell that Osamu has now stood up. “Stop messing around,” he laughs nervously.

“I’m not, ‘Samu. I know that this is killing you. I don’t want to be the reason that you’re sad.”

“You’re not!” 

It sounds like he’s pacing now. Behind Suna’s eyelids, Osamu is tugging on dark strands of hair, stopping his frantic strides every now and then to dig his toes into the ground. His ears tell him that his imagination isn’t far off from what’s happening. Despite the situation, Suna is happy that he knows his partner so well, even if he’s the cause of his stress.

“But I am,” Suna says simply. “You want to get married, ‘Samu. I can’t give that to you.”

“So you think we should just…end things? Rin, I wanna get married to you, dummy. I thought…” Osamu trails off, his breath catching at the end. 

“But I don’t want to get married to you, Osamu. I don't know when I’ll be ready or if I’ll ever be ready.”

“Then we won't get married! Easy! Rin, please,” he begs. “I just wanna be with ya.”

Suna opens his eyes and takes a long look at Osamu. He’s not crying yet, but his fingers are buried in his hair, eyes red and wide with panic. He takes tentative steps closer to Suna, falling to his knees when he gets close enough and reaches for Suna’s hand.

“I thought…ya said ya still love me. Before.” Osamu grasps Suna’s hand tighter and makes eye contact with him. “Did ya lie to me?” Despite his best efforts, Osamu sniffles and tears start to fall at a rapid pace. 

“No,” Suna shakes his head, “I didn’t lie to you. Osamu, of course I still love you. I just don’t know if it’s right. Or enough.”

And Osamu can’t argue with that. No matter how much he may want Suna to still love him or how much he loves Suna, they both know that it means nothing if Suna can’t reciprocate it. And if Suna is doubting his feelings, Osamu can’t force him to stay.

“I wish you would stop deciding things for both of us,” Osamu whispers sadly. 

Not wanting to expend any energy trying to figure out what Osamu means by that and unwilling to see him looking so sad any longer, Suna pulls him closer and rests his chin on top of the other man’s head. 

“Will ya really be happy if we break up, Rin?”

“I never said I wasn’t happy with you, babe.”

Osamu pulls away from him and folds his legs. “Clearly that isn’t true. And ya didn’t answer my question.”

“Let’s stay friends?” Suna asks instead. 

It’s silent for a long time and for a while, he thinks Osamu is going to push for an answer to his question, and he feels his palms get sweaty, wiping them on his pants quickly. He doesn’t know if he’ll be happy moving forward. More than that, the possibility of Osamu wanting nothing to do with Suna after they break up terrifies him. 

“I...need time, but of course.” He finally says, pulling at a loose thread on the shirt he had tossed at Suna what felt like forever ago, but had only been about a few minutes. “We were best friends first, after all.” 

The smile he’s given when he looks over at Osamu’s face looks plastic. But Suna will take what he can get.

When he and his sister were younger, they had a tradition of making time for each other at least once a month, whether it be over the phone or in person. They would settle down with some snacks and catch up on each other’s lives, talking about the test Suna failed, or Meiko’s new classmates in middle school, or the new shoes that one brand they both love were releasing. It started off as a way for them to feel like someone in their household was listening to them during a time where there was no time to spare for the children. As Suna grew older, phone calls became the norm for their catch up sessions.

But today, for some reason, his sister was lounging on his couch when he woke up. 

“You weren’t answering your phone, loser,” she says, not looking up from her phone as she chews on an apple skin, the peeled fruit sitting in a bowl next to her. 

“Keep your disgusting habit out of my house.” Suna moves the bowl and puts his feet on the coffee table. “And I’m pretty sure my phone has been dead for the past three days.”

His sister gapes at him. He reaches over to close her mouth, not wanting to look at the chewed up mass of apple skin. As expected, Meiko swipes at his hand, but her face quickly grows concerned. 

“Are you doing okay, Rin?”

He wasn’t doing not okay. Does answering affirmatively with a negative still count as being affirmative? Meiko would probably slap him for answering her like that, but it was the truth. He wasn’t unwell, but he’s seen better days. Of course the easiest way to see that was the detachment from his phone, his favorite distraction from the rush of the world. 

Instead he tells her, “Don’t worry about me.” 

“That didn’t answer my question, but also no,” she rolls her eyes. “Who do you think I am?”

“A nosy child.”

“I’m 20!” She complains. “You can’t distract me, what’s going on?”

Suna sighs and reaches for one of the peeled apples and bites down, savoring the juice. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t really know?” She doesn’t answer him but she purses her lips as if she plans on arguing that he does, in fact, know what’s wrong with him. “No, really. I’ve been feeling…off, lately. For a while, I guess. And it was going alright after you know. That.” 

Words were never known to be his strong suit. Meiko, despite knowing this, doesn’t pretend like she knows what he’s talking about. It’s something about seeing her brother flail around for those few moments that brings her satisfaction, or so she says. “No, Rin, I don’t know. What are you talking about?”

“The breakup. With, uh. Osamu.”

He holds his breath. Meiko only nods her head, though, so he continues. “We still talk and stuff. But he’s been busy lately, or he’s been saying he’s busy, so it’s like. I don’t know, I think not talking with him is messing with me. Or my mood, not me. You know?”

There’s no way his sister found anything useful in that word vomit, but surprisingly Meiko has a thoughtful look on her face. She doesn’t say anything for a long time, letting the sounds of her snacking fill the space. It makes Suna nervous for some reason. He doesn’t open up about things very often, but this was his sister, the one person he could open up to without even trying. Half the time he didn’t even want to open up to her and she would stick her face in his business anyway. There was no real reason for him to feel nervous. 

“Why would that mess with your mood though?” 

Suna can tell by the way she asks the question that Meiko already has an answer she’s looking for. Instead of telling him what she wants to say, she’ll push him to give the answer instead, which is something she picked up from their father. It pisses him off, mainly because it always works, but also because it makes him feel like he’s been played. Like he’s slipped on a banana peel in the middle of an empty, well-lit hallway.

Still, he goes along with it and answers, “I guess I’m just used to talking to him all the time? So it’s weird when we don’t.”

“But Rin, you guys are exes. I know exes can be friends and that’s what you’re going for, but it’s not the same. Of course you aren’t going to talk all the time.”

“Why not?” 

“Well,” Meiko stalls, opening and closing her mouth as if she’s debating whether to say what she’s going to say next. Suna raises his eyebrow as if to challenge her and in the next moment, she nods her head to herself as if she’s made a tough decision. 

“You two were together for ten years. That’s a long time.”

Suna knows.

“You were gonna get married.”

He knows that too. 

“What’s your point, Meiko?” He asks, suddenly tired. 

“My point,” she turns towards him, “is that a year isn’t enough time to get over ten.”

Of course it isn’t. That’s why Suna is trying to make it easier for himself. He can’t just quit talking to Osamu entirely. It’s not like he fell out of love with him. He just loves him less than he used to. Or loves him differently. Suna still hasn’t decided which one it is yet, but he knows that he loves Osamu and it would break his heart to live a life without the other man in it. Osamu probably appreciates it, too. It would be strange to just step away from each other completely. 

He doesn’t tell Meiko this, though, and only sighs. 

“Enough of this, I’m hungry. Wanna order Thai?”

Meiko looks at him sadly for a long moment and all he thinks about is how mature his little sister has grown up to be. She’s much more in tune with her emotions than he is, at least. When they were kids, she was better at expressing herself when Suna couldn’t, but she never understood what she was feeling. Now, it seems like she can express and understand enough for the both of them, while Suna is still stuck trying to figure out what he’s feeling and why. Sometimes, she makes him feel like he’s the child and she’s the adult.

“Fine, but I want dessert too.” 

“Of course,” he rolls his eyes. “Who do you take me for?” 

Alright, maybe they’re both children deep down. The thought cheers him up and slowly, he can feel the fog that’s been hovering over him begin to clear up. He’ll have to thank his sister properly before she leaves. For now, he settles for changing the direction of the conversation to Meiko’s life, unwilling to dissect the mess that was his own any longer.

They’re lying on the living room floor, with Suna’s EJP jacket protecting their backs from the slightly dusty floor. The fit is tight, so they roll over onto their sides and wrap arms around each other’s waists. It’s not the most comfortable position, their knees knocking into each other and their arms underneath them are bent strangely, but they don’t plan on moving.

“It’s late,” Suna says.

“Wanna get to bed?”

“No. I want to stay here.” 

Osamu stays silent, holding Suna’s waist tighter, as if he could grip the bone underneath smooth skin. If he tried hard enough, Suna would let him. That way, he would have a reason to stay here, on Osamu’s gross apartment floor, forever, and he wouldn’t have to leave for Shizuoka. 

“What are ya thinking about?”

“Nothing,” he lies. Osamu knows he’s lying, as he always does, but they both know it’s better if he doesn’t call him out on it. This moment is nice. Suna doesn’t want to ruin it and think of tomorrow, of a long train ride, and his empty apartment waiting for him to clear up the takeout boxes in the kitchen, of long practices that leave him tired and drained, unable to even say goodnight to his boyfriend. 

So he redirects his thoughts to the man lying next to him and shoves his legs in between Osamu’s, curling even closer, even though there’s nowhere left to go. He rubs the tip of Osamu’s nose with his own and sighs. This is where he’s happiest. 

“Can I get a real kiss?” Osamu laughs.

“Nope,” he says, but he leans in anyways, pressing their lips together softly, and then much harder. Osamu matches him for a while, the two of them groaning lightly, until he pulls away just enough to get some air. Their lips are still touching and Suna relishes in the warmth. 

“Gonna miss ya, Rin,” Osamu mumbles against his lips.

Suna pecks Osamu one more time. “I know. I’ll be back soon.”

In the morning, Suna leaves without his EJP jacket, despite the nagging he knows he’s in for when he asks for another one. He couldn’t bear waking Osamu up to say goodbye, and the other man had wrapped the jacket around himself when they eventually moved to the couch that night. So he pushes dark hair out of the way and kisses Osamu’s forehead, sending him a text when he boards his train. 

Osamu would understand. Although he always complained when Suna left without properly saying goodbye, he always forgave him when they saw each other again. 

Aina storms through his apartment, grabbing a shirt from the bedroom, a mug from the kitchen, some cream she uses on her face all the time from the bathroom. Suna watches her impassively from the couch. In his hands, he tosses his phone back and forth gently. He’s not uncomfortable, since this isn’t his first breakup, but he never knows how to present himself. 

“Can you at least get out of the way?” She mutters darkly. 

“It’s my place,” he replies simply.

Aina flips her brown hair over her shoulder and huffs. Looking at her, Suna wonders why he found her attractive. She isn’t ugly. Objectively, she’s cute; she’s shorter than him with a nice figure and soft features. Their dates were fun, the sex was never bad, she was funny enough. But Aina was a far cry from what Suna was used to. From what he expected. Maybe that made him an asshole, but Suna’s ideal partner had a clear label in his mind, two neatly lined up characters whose strokes he had spent years falling in love with. 

“I know!” She huffs. “I just want to get my shit and leave.” 

“I’m not stopping you,” he says as he gets up anyway, moving to the kitchen, but she stops him by grabbing his arm. 

“Why do you have to be such an ass?!” Her fingers are digging into his skin. 

“Am I?” He is. But Suna raises an eyebrow at her anyway. “You’re just pissy because we broke up. Would you rather me lead you on?”

“As if you haven’t been doing that this whole relationship,” Aina scoffs. “You act like you’re interested one moment, and suddenly you don’t give two shits. It’s all about whatever is convenient for you.That’s your problem, Rintarou. You never consider anyone. You just do shit to make yourself feel better, even if it hurts you.”

Alright. That one hit a little too close to home. Suna isn’t a mean person, at least he tries not to be. But he has no trouble dipping some of his words in poison, letting spite sharpen them until they dig their way underneath other people’s skin and never leave. 

“You think this hurts me, Aina? When you walk out of that door, I won’t miss you. There won’t be any longing, there won’t be any crying.” 

He pries her fingers off of him and moves around her to sit back down on the couch. 

“I broke up with you for a reason, after all.”

Her face pinches in anger, heat rising to her cheeks and spreading all over her face. She grabs the few belongings that she had managed to gather and stomps towards the door, knocking several items off of the entryway table as she did so. 

“You’re just a miserable bastard, Suna!” Aina yells as she wrenches the door open. “An unhappy, miserable bastard,” she struggles to pick up her bags and grab the knob smoothly, “and I hope one day you learn how to leave other people out of your shit.” 

Long after Aina leaves in a flurry of tears and curses, Suna is still seated on his couch. His feet are curled underneath him and he holds a pillow tight to his chest. Aina’s words are twirling around his mind, slowly inching up an incline until they drop at a million miles an hour, doing loops, and twists, and turns. 

To be honest, she wasn’t wrong. As soon as things start to get rough, Suna runs. It’s what he’s always done, in his love life at least. In any other area of his life, he can put up with it and tough it out. When work is hard, Suna simply works harder. If his friends say he’s being distant he makes plans with them, and they’re satisfied for another couple of weeks, or months, or however long Suna needs to himself.

But if he’s having trouble in his relationship? He leaves. Suna doesn’t stay. He can’t stay. How is he supposed to survive the pain of hands prying open his chest, carefully removing each layer of skin, and digging through his flesh, twisting and turning his heart until he couldn’t recognize it anymore. It’s not a feeling he wants to familiarize himself with, and so Suna spends his time running in circles, repeating the same cycle over and over again. Aina is not the first partner he’s had in the two years since he and Osamu broke things off, and she probably won’t be the last.

Inevitably, he’ll begin to feel that gaping hole in his heart throb, and he’ll look for someone to fill it. Suna will miss Osamu so badly that he’ll want to crawl out of his skin. He’ll look for someone to soothe that feeling and keep him satisfied for as long as they last. It’s not healthy. He knows that. But he can’t just ask Osamu to take him back. Getting back with Osamu will put Suna in the very same place that had him wanting to tear his hair out before. 

When did his life become so cyclical? No matter what he does and no matter who he’s with, he feels trapped. How is he supposed to win like this? He sighs heavily and squeezes the pillow in his arms tighter, closing his eyes and letting the rest of the afternoon pass him by, lost in his head.

One day at the beginning of the league’s break, Komori invites Suna to go on a trip.

“Just me and you?” 

“As much as I love you, absolutely not,” Komori shudders at the same time Suna sighs in relief. “Kiyo and some of his teammates are going on some little trip and they’re allowed to bring people with them.”

“I’m gonna assume you’re Sakusa’s plus one?”

“Yup! And you're mine!” Suna frowns and Komori grabs him by the shoulders. He is so much more physically expressive than Suna, always using gestures or his hands to get his point across. “Come on, do me this favor,” he pleads. “I need entertainment that isn’t poking fun at Kiyo.”

Honestly, it’s not like Suna has plans for the break anyway. Correction: it’s not like he has plans that don’t include staying in bed all day and wishing he was asleep. Going on a trip might be nice for a change. 

“Alright, I’ll go. You owe me, though.”

“If my memory isn’t failing me, Washio still doesn’t know who broke his alarm clock in a drunken rage,” he says slyly.

“I wasn’t drunk, I was hungover!” Suna protests. 

The team had gone drinking and Suna may have gotten a little too drunk. So drunk that it carried over to the next morning, and when he woke up he was in a strange place that left his mind wondering whether he was hungover or imagining things. Unfortunately, Washio’s clock had started ringing as Suna was trying to decide where he stood and inevitably ended up smashed against the wall. 

“You still broke it,” Komori snickers. 

“Fine,” he huffs. “I’ll go.”

What Suna didn’t consider was the presence of Miya Atsumu. Which is stupid considering he’s Sakusa’s teammate and boyfriend. It only made sense that Atsumu would be going on this trip. Naturally, it followed that Atsumu’s plus one would be his twin brother. But for some reason, Suna didn’t anticipate running into Osamu at the group’s meeting spot, and when his startled eyes met the other man’s, it was clear Osamu didn’t anticipate seeing him either. This made a lot more sense, however, considering Suna was the plus one of a plus one. A plus two, of sorts.

“Myaa-sam!” 

Bokuto breaks the awkward silence that sits between the two, bounding towards Osamu and crushing him in a hug. Akaashi walks up much more calmly and levels Suna with a stare that feels like he’s being examined and picked apart. He tries his best not to look affected, but he feels exposed and uncomfortable, even after Akaashi looks away to greet a recovering Osamu.

“If it isn’t Sunarin.” Atsumu claps him on the back as he walks past, but doesn’t offer him any other greeting. Suna gets it. 

See, it’s not like he and Osamu aren’t friends. They agreed to be friends after the breakup and they are. Atsumu doesn’t entirely agree with it, but he remained friends with Suna as well. Sometimes though, like now, they’re reminded that life is different for all of them. 

Two years ago, Suna wouldn’t have been a plus two through Sakusa. He would have been Osamu’s plus one. There wouldn’t be a thin layer of tension whenever Suna and one of the twins are in the same room. 

It bothers him that maybe he’ll never be as close to the Miyas as he was in high school and the first half of their twenties. But that’s okay. He’s happier now. And it’s not like they’re totally distant from him. 

Turning away from them, he looks around at the small group gathered. Bokuto and Akaashi are standing with Hinata, waiting for the rest of the group to grab their bags so they can enter the accommodation. 

The house they are staying at is a modern lakeside place, with large rectangular windows and framing. The outside is covered in dark lap siding, the stairs are long and thin, extending the entire length of the front of the house. The lamps that are hanging from the second floor balcony aren’t lit because it was still the early afternoon. To the left of the path that they walked up to reach the house, another dirt path leads to the lake.

Inside, the kitchen and living room are connected. The first floor has two bedrooms, and the remaining four are on the second floor. Suna was thankful that he didn’t have to share a bedroom with anybody. Komori snores irregularly in his sleep and he didn’t need to make things more awkward for him and Osamu. If they both have a day to digest the fact that they’ll be spending an entire unplanned weekend together, Suna feels like they’ll be okay. At least, he will be. He can only hope Osamu adjusts the same way.

The next morning, Suna is woken up by the sounds of chaos. Or what he assumes to be chaos. When he walks down to the kitchen area after washing up, he’s greeted by Bokuto and Hinata loudly trying to figure out which vegetables would work better as fruits, a despairing Atsumu next to them. Osamu is busy at the stove, cooking what looks like an omelette. So not as chaotic as he was expecting.

“They seem lively,” he comments dryly as he slides into the seat next to Atsumu.

“All because I asked if they like tomatoes or not,” he groans. Osamu laughs from his spot at the stove and holds out a plate. 

“I love tomatoes, Tsum-tsum!”

“Do the rest of us need to know that?” Sakusa mutters darkly.

“Did we wake you up, Omi-san?” Hinata actually looks apologetic, which is probably the only reason Sakusa's face eases up as he sits on the other side of Atsumu and buries his face in his arms. 

“No,” he huffs. 

“Aw, Omi did ya miss me when ya woke up?” Atsumu croons. He’s met with a glare and pinch to his thigh.

“Kiyo’s just grumpy because I woke him up,” Komori yawns as he walks in the room. Sakusa only drops his head back to the table and grunts. Definitely not a morning person, Suna notes. 

He’s distracted by tapping on the table in front of him and looks up to see Osamu looking at him expectantly. 

“Still asleep, I see,” he laughs. “I asked if ya wanted any food.”

“Oh, uh, I’m good. It’s still pretty early.” The look in  Osamu’s eyes told Suna that he didn’t need to explain further, since they both knew that he wasn’t a fan of eating breakfast unless he was thoroughly convinced, preferring to have heavier lunches and dinner. 

For a moment, Suna is back in their old apartment on a Tuesday morning; it’s his day off and Osamu still has work later in the afternoon; he takes a coffee and some toast to hold him over until lunch while Osamu makes himself a plate of eggs to go with his tea, although he offers Suna breakfast anyways because it’s in his nature to care for the others around him. It feels natural, until the sound of Atsumu choking on eggs disrupts the moment and Suna is brought back to the present. Osamu turns away to mock his brother and the moment is truly over. 

“Are you doing okay?” Komori whispers. Suna isn’t sure how much of that he witnessed, but it must have been enough to have his friend concerned for him. 

“I’m just peachy,” he mutters, already wishing for the weekend to be over.

That afternoon, they break off into groups to explore the lake and the surrounding area. Suna and Komori trail after the group that includes Sakusa, the twins, and Hinata. Bokuto and Akaashi had wandered off somewhere earlier and no one wanted to hang around the couple and risk scarring their eyes and minds for the rest of the trip.

Sunlight drips down the gaps between the leaves of the tall trees, glimpses of the spring afternoon peeking through the shade they’ve been afforded. Despite the clear sky and the sun being high up in the sky, the day was actually pretty chilly. Suna shivers as the leaves rustle from a light breeze and pockets his phone, tugging at a loose seam inside. 

“You could at least look like you’re enjoying yourself,” Komori sulks at him. 

“I’m having the time of my life.” 

“Rin,” the other man says seriously.

“It’s nice out here. I’m absorbing the ambiance.” Suna sighs when Komori doesn’t budge. “Alright. Why do you look as sour as your cousin?”

Up ahead, Sakusa’s left hand twitches. Komori snickers.

“I just…realized I didn’t think this through,” he says, taking on a more somber tone.

“You’re an athlete, Komori. We’re not even hiking.”

Komori stops walking and pulls Suna’s arm back when he doesn’t stop with him. His eyebrows look like they're trying to mold together in the middle of his face. 

“I’m talking about inviting you on this trip. I wanted you to get out of the house so you could y'know. Be a person. But I didn’t realize you’d have to see…” he trails off, looking towards the twins. 

Automatically, Suna follows his gaze to Osamu’s back. He trails the broad shoulders, even from a far distance, and fills out the rest of the details of his figure by memory. 

“Oh, that,” he waves his friend off. “Don’t worry about it. I could have thought ahead too, but what’s done is done. Besides, I’ve missed him. It’s been a while since we had a chance to talk.”

The look Komori gives him as they start walking again reminds him of Meiko when she thinks he’s being stupid. But his little sister was eager to pretend to be his mother and judge his life decisions. Komori didn’t have that same motivation, and it’s not like Suna said anything strange in the first place. 

There was nothing wrong with wanting to catch up with an old friend. 

Later in the afternoon, he’s looking for service behind the lake house when he hears a smooth voice cutting through the air.

“Have you told him that?”

The calm, direct tone sounds like Akaashi, but he can’t figure out who the other man is speaking to. He wants to be nosy and hang around a little longer, maybe try and peek around the corner to see whose reply he and Akaashi were waiting on, but he decides finding service is more important. He had been on the phone with his mother while taking a walk around the property, but the service dropped in the middle of the conversation, and despite his brain telling him not to call back, he knows he should. 

“Nah,” he hears, “I don’t know how to.”

Osamu. That was definitely Osamu’s voice. And now Suna really shouldn’t be eavesdropping. But he’s curious. Who were they talking about? Did the twins have a fight?

“Osamu-san, don’t you think you’re being unfair?”

“I know I should be honest with him–”

“I meant to yourself,” Akaashi cuts in. 

It’s quiet for a long time after that and Suna feels the tension in the air settle in his throat. Once again, his brain is screaming at him, and this time it’s telling him to leave. To walk away and forget what he just heard. It’s telling him that he’s going to get hurt if he keeps listening. But he wants to stay. He wants to see if they’re actually talking about him, if Osamu is hiding something from him, if whatever he’s hiding is hurting him. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he startles, his shoe crunching against the leaves that crackle under the pressure. He stops breathing, worried he’s been found out, but then he hears a tired sigh and Akaashi’s apology for upsetting Osamu, who denies being upset in the first place. 

Suna shuffles away towards the front of the house and settles on the steps, pulling out his phone and tapping his mother’s contact. 

“Rintarou! Did you hang up on me?”

“Of course not, Mom,” he says, as if that wasn’t something he does to her regularly. She sighs on the other end of the line.

“I don’t have time to talk anymore, sweetheart, but could you please call your father? I’m tired of him calling me and asking about you.”

“I’ll try,” he lies, “I’m on a trip right now and the service can be pretty spotty. When I get home I’ll call.”

“Okay. Have fun. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Tiredly, he stands up and puts his phone away. He plays with the power button, pressing it erratically as he considers turning his phone off for the rest of the weekend. He won’t do it, because as much as Suna tries to deny it, he is addicted to his phone and the act of scrolling, but he wants to. God, he wants to.

So far, the trip has been calm. It’s the exact sort of relaxing weekend Suna had imagined when Komori first invited him. There isn't any pressure for anyone to interact with anyone that they aren't used to, or for anyone to interact with anyone at all. Suna had spent four hours on his own yesterday and no one bothered him at all. 

Of course, because Suna’s life tends to be difficult, things don’t stay calm for long. True to his self-destructive nature, it’s probably his fault. 

It starts that evening. He hasn’t spoken to Osamu since yesterday morning at breakfast, and he can tell it’s on purpose. So, after they’ve all eaten and have begun to wind down for the night, Suna decides to find out why he’s being avoided. 

Osamu is talking to Akaashi again, laughing pleasantly at something the other man must have said. It’s irrational, but Suna feels a flare of jealousy. Akaashi is with Bokuto. As far as he can tell, they don’t have any other partners. But what does he know? His gut churns unpleasantly as he makes his way over to the pair.

“Suna-san, how are you?” Akaashi announces his presence before he even gets the chance to say anything. He feels his eye twitch slightly.

“I’m doing alright," he quickly turns his attention to Osamu, "I was just wondering if we could talk."

No offense to Akaashi, but he has a mission right now. 

Although he looks a little uncomfortable, Osamu agrees, sighing heavily. They step outside and sit on the wooden bench set up on the front porch. The sun is going down, orange hues melting into a rich purple in the distance, and the late evening air is quiet and cool. 

“So, what did ya need? Everything okay, Suna?” 

“You tell me,” he says. 

Osamu looks up at him, apprehensive. “Yer the one that wanted to talk, not me.”

“I know. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Yeah.” He won’t even deny it. “I have been.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Suna quietly. 

Once again, he’s met with a look that asks What's wrong with you? This time, though, Suna begins to feel like he should take it more seriously. Is he doing something wrong?

“No,” Osamu starts just as quietly, “ya didn’t really do anything. But it is awkward for me. I wasn’t expecting to see ya this weekend, Suna.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you either, but I thought we were okay. You were fine with me yesterday morning!” He falters, unsure if he should even continue. But they were finally talking after so long. 

“You said we would stay friends.”

Osamu turns away, looking into the line of trees shrouded in darkness, presenting Suna with his profile. His eyes were downcast and he was frowning, jaw clenched tightly and the lines of his neck tense. 

“I did say that,” he murmurs. “I also said I needed time.”

It feels like Suna’s given him nothing but time. How much longer would it take for him to adjust to their status? Suna had taken a couple of months to really get used to the idea that he wasn’t in a relationship with Osamu anymore. There were so many nights he had to remind himself as he wandered into his bedroom after a late night that there wouldn’t be a lump waiting for him under the covers, that there wouldn’t be warm arms ready to welcome him at any time of day. He’d had to adjust to the sound of silence and how loud it was in his ears. But even during that time he felt like he was ready to be able to have a normal conversation with the other man if they were face to face. 

“It's been two years.”

Angrily, Osamu bangs his fist on the bench. He stands up, practically throwing himself away from Suna and glares at him. 

“And ya think that’s enough!? Yeah, it’s been two years, but it’s been two years of you actin’ like nothing’s changed between us, Suna! And ya think that’s enough.”

“Obviously things have changed between us!” Suna stands up too now, not one to sit down and let himself be yelled at like he was a child. His fingers are buzzing, a numb, shaky feeling that trails up to his shoulders and has his chest feeling like it was going to collapse. He takes a steadying breath. 

“Obviously,” he repeats, “things have changed. But I thought we’d be able to move past it by now.”

Unfortunately, his words don't seem to calm Osamu down. If anything, they piss him off further, a layer of distress hiding underneath his anger.

“I know it’s been real easy for ya to move on from me, but it hasn’t been the same for me,” he spits, his eyes a stormy gray. Osamu turns around and wrenches the front door open, stomping inside and leaving it to slam close on its own. 

The porch was quiet now, the only sounds coming from the crickets that had settled for their nightly routine. Above him, the stars were bright, much brighter than he was used to living in the city, although they were few in number. 

He sits down on the bench and lets the numbness take over, spreading from his arms to his head, creeping in through his ears and coating his brain, swirling until it cascades down into his chest and straight through his heart. 

Some time later, Atsumu steps out of the front door and sits next to him. He doesn’t say anything, only hums a light tune that rings familiar in Suna’s ears. For some reason, it irritates him. Couldn’t Atsumu see that Suna was having a crisis right now? 

“Can you stop that?” He mumbles.

“Nah.”

Back when he and Osamu were still together, Suna had a habit of humming to fill silences he wasn’t comfortable sitting in. It's something he’s done since he was a kid. Osamu would always ask him to stop and he would agree for a moment before continuing to him. Eventually it became less of an escape from uncomfortable situations and more of a mindless habit. 

“Atsumu.” The other man continues to hum to himself, head tilted towards the sky. “Where’s your brother?”

“Haven’t seen him since ya pissed him off.”

“But you spoke to him.” 

Atsumu nods. “Yup. ‘S how I knew ya pissed him off. I dunno where he went though, so if yer tryna apologize or somethin’, that’s on you to figure out.”

Great. Suna can’t tell if Atsumu is upset with him or not, but he isn’t going to stick around to find out. He gets up and allows his legs to straighten out, kicking out any cramps that had built up. He heads inside for a quick nap, confirming that Osamu isn't inside the house, before he decides to commit himself to searching for Osamu and offering some form of olive branch to him.

It’s still dark out when Suna finds Osamu. He’s sitting on a rock with his chin on his knees, arms tucked in the crook created by his body and his legs. His gray sweater is a little large on him. He sits next to the other man, leaning on his hands with his legs splayed out. 

“I’ve been looking around for you,” he breaks the silence. 

“I told ‘Tsumu where I was.” Osamu sniffs. “He coulda told ya.”

They both know why Atsumu didn’t offer Suna any help in finding him.

“Aren’t you tired? It’s late, Osamu.”

“I can sleep out here.”

“You really shouldn’t. Come on, let’s go back.”

Suna sees Osamu’s form tense up a bit. “I didn’t ask you to come out here, Suna.”

“Well I did. And now that I’m here I’m not just gonna leave you,” he says, shifting closer to the dark haired man beside him. Osamu’s eyes are closed and when Suna looks at him closely, his hands are shaking. He doesn’t want to try and figure out why that is.

They sit in silence for a long time, so long that Suna is about to check if Osamu actually fell asleep like he said he would, but Osamu pipes up before he can.

“Are ya happy?”

He takes a moment to think about it. “Yeah. I mean… I think I am. Are you?”

“No. I’m not happy at all.”

Ahead of them, the sky begins to brighten, the sun rising and forcing the purples and pinks to slowly make way for the light blue spring sky. 

It’s warm, he thinks as they silently agree to stand and begin walking back to their accommodation. Still, he can't force the image of Osamu’s shaking hands from his brain. 

After the weekend at the lake, it seemed as if the awkward period that left Suna feeling like he was asking for too much disappeared. Now, he and Osamu talk regularly, like they did when they first were friends. Well, as regularly as a professional athlete and a restaurant owner can speak, that is. They make plans to hang out, they send each other funny Twitter posts, they ask how the other’s day has been.

Suna feels good. It feels like he has his best friend back, and the shaky, uneasy feeling that follows him around most of the time is gone. The truth is, Suna misses Osamu. He can admit that much to himself. And completely cutting the other man out of his life was never in his plan. If there is one thing he is sure about, it’s that he never feels right when he can’t talk to Osamu. Even if they aren’t actively talking, he can’t stand feeling like he’s crossing some invisible boundary when he tries to. It makes him feel like he’s done something wrong, and that makes him want to crawl out of his skin. 

One day, after a friendly exhibition match, Kiyoomi pulls Suna aside and asks him, “What the hell are you doing?”

Suna frowns. 

“What do you mean?”

He lifts his leg slowly and reaches down to grab his ankle, pulling it back to behind his leg to finish off his stretches, doing his best to maintain eye contact with the other man, as if to say clearly I’m doing stretches, like everyone else in this gym right now . Kiyoomi is still staring at him, sweat dripping down the side of his face. Suna sees his left eye twitch in frustration. 

“I don’t mean right now.” More sweat drips down his face. “Ugh, I need to shower. Wait for me outside.”

There’s not much Kiyoomi could have to talk to him about, so Suna’s stumped. Why does he seem so agitated? The only thing they have in common nowadays are Komori and Atsumu, that they both play volleyball, and that they’re around the same height. Suna hasn’t fought with either Komori or Atsumu lately, and he doubts Kiyoomi wants to have a big talk about the practice match. It’s not like the two of them aren’t friends, because they do spend a lot of time around each other being in the same circles. This was especially true when Suna and Osamu were together, since the twins liked to meet up whenever they were all free, but that was a long time ago.

Suna leans against the walls and decides to stop thinking. Sakusa could be a little intense sometimes. He was probably all worked up because he hadn’t showered yet. Not a big deal.

After a few minutes of waiting, Sakusa finally walks out the building, breaking away from his team with a quick hand on Atsumu’s shoulder, who doesn’t even glance in Suna’s direction, simply nodding and continuing to walk with the rest of the Jackals towards their bus.

“So,” Suna calls out as Sakusa makes his way over, “what were you talking about earlier?”

“Osamu.”

“What? No, you asked me what I was doing.”

“Yeah,” Sakusa says slowly, “in reference to Osamu.”

He wishes Sakusa wouldn’t just say things out of nowhere and expect Suna to follow his mental train.  He’s not a conductor or a mind reader. He shouldn't have to deal with dark eyes looking at him like he’s missing a few brain cells.

“What do you mean?”

“You call off the wedding, you break up with him, and you’ve given him no space.” 

Where is all of this coming from? Suna hasn’t fought with Osamu recently, aside from the trip, but he thought they had settled things. Why was Sakusa of all people coming to talk to him about this?

Sakusa must be able to see the confusion on his face, because he sighs heavily. 

“Atsumu spends a lot of time complaining about his brother and Osamu is practically family. We do talk.”

He isn’t totally surprised, but for some reason, Suna didn’t expect Osamu to vent to anybody about their argument. Not that he couldn’t! Of course he could. It’s just that he kind of figured that the other man would brush it off and move past it since they had resolved the issue, like Suna had.

Suna frowns. “I’m not doing anything wrong. Am I not allowed to be with my best friend?” 

“You guys aren’t just best friends anymore, though Suna,” he says, exasperated. “I’m only even saying anything because the past couple of years Osamu hasn’t even gotten the chance to heal from your relationship. That’s a lot of emotional shit to work through. How do you expect him to move on if you’re constantly acting as if nothing ever happened?” 

Sakusa is giving him the same look that Komori gave him during the trip, the same look that Meiko had given him a year ago. The same look that Osamu had given him that night. The one that screamed What is wrong with you ? 

“I don’t…Is it so bad that I don’t want him to stop loving me?” 

“If you never plan on loving him back it is,” Sakusa replies firmly. 

He walks away after that, hands deep in his pockets and Suna watches him until he’s out of sight. Then, he shoves his hands in his own pockets and heads home.

What is wrong with you?

What’s funny is that Suna is the one who proposed. Back when he had much less fears and didn’t let his head run wild, he had bought a ring on a whim. He and Osamu hadn’t talked about marriage or any sort of permanent life decision besides living together during the off season, and that didn’t take much effort for the two of them. It always just made sense that they’d live together. And when Suna thought of his life ten years down the line, Osamu was right there by his side, smiling and doing whatever made him happy. Somehow, that led his brain down the path leading to marriage.

It was late at night, and he had no clue what kind of ring he should have been looking for, but he remembers walking out of the jewelry store on a fall night confidently, a simple gold band because he knew Osamu didn’t like flashy things, and a matching chain so he could wear it around his neck while working. 

He didn’t propose until much later, when he and Osamu took an impromptu trip to the beach. Suna had just made it back to Osaka and Osamu was barely finished with his shift but they found themselves on the train, hands clasped together as the evening colors slowly washed away the afternoon blue of the sky. The waves were lightly crashing into the shore and it was cold, the wind pricking their skin. But Suna couldn’t stop looking at Osamu and Osamu wasn’t paying much attention, walking with one hand in his pocket and the other tightly grasping Suna’s. 

So he stopped walking, tugging Osamu to stop with him, and Suna doesn’t remember much of what he said. He remembers the orange sky melting into the ocean, he remembers the harsh winds, he remembers the smell of salt, and he remembers crying because he was nervous. But he doesn’t remember giving a grand speech. There’s a high chance that he didn’t give any sort of speech. 

He does remember, however, Osamu laughing as he said yes, and then crying because Suna was still crying, and he remembers how warm their hands were despite the winter chill. Suna remembers feeling loved and being in love and wanting everything he could possibly get with Osamu.

He wonders when that all changed.

When Suna is eight, something in his family shifts. His mother and father begin to fight more, and his mind is more focused on making sure Meiko isn’t left alone than it is thinking about why his parents yell over dinner. There’s no trigger, no big event, no scandal. His parents just begin to hate each other. It’s shocking, at first, because up until that point they’ve been a happy family. But then he gets used to it. 

He and his sister try to talk to each other at least once a day, because their aunt always told them it was important for children to socialize and their parents are too busy fighting to do more than call them for meals, but neither of them are very talkative children so sometimes they miss days. Suna doesn’t mind very much because it means they have more to talk about on the days they do manage to sit down with each other.

When he’s thirteen, his father leaves one day and the house becomes silent. His mother doesn’t make much of an effort to talk things out with her children or offer any explanation, so Suna just accepts that his father is gone. He has an even easier time accepting that his parent’s marriage meant nothing. 

In his second year of high school, his father makes a reappearance, calling to ask how he’s doing for the first time. Suna doesn’t call him back, even though his mother practically begs him to. She can’t make him since he’s dorming at Inarizaki and she’s all the way in Nagoya. 

There’s one day, though, that he does call back. He and the twins have just been scolded by Kita, and he’s locked in his dorm room, annoyed at having been dragged into their stupid antics, but more importantly, annoyed that they got caught. As he’s scrolling through his notifications, he sees that his dad called him earlier and for some reason, his finger is drawn to the green call button. 

“Why did you and mom not work out?” is what he wants to ask his father. The question sits on the top of his tongue, waiting to be blurted out. He wants to ask why he stopped talking to him and Meiko. He wants to ask why he decided to reach out again. He just wants to know why.

“The number you have called is unavailable. Please try again.” Dial tone.

Suna doesn’t bother calling back again. He asks his mom the question instead, on a video call a month before he graduates high school and begins training for the professional volleyball world. 

“I had to get away,” she says, slowly stirring some stew in a pot. She’s not looking at him, or anywhere, really. “I began to hate everything about him. I dreaded spending the rest of my life with him.”

She says it so simply, no details, no explanations, like it was the obvious conclusion to their story. And Suna accepts it easily, because somewhere deep down, he gets it. 

They’re celebrating something important, but Suna isn’t quite sure what that something is. He knows the Jackals were here earlier, but that some of them have already left. He knows some of the Inarizaki grads had gathered, like Aran, Kita, and Gin, and that Akagi had stopped by at some point to congratulate them and bring Gin home. Aran had hugged him for a long time before he left but Suna had been too preoccupied with how warm he was in Aran’s arms to focus on what was being said to him. He also knows that he’s been drinking a ton, and that’s more than likely why he can’t remember what they’re celebrating. 

He’s sitting in the corner seat and his face feels like it’s stuck to the table. Sakusa is next to him, slowly sipping some sake and holding Atsumu’s hand, who is sitting across from him. Next to Atsumu sits Osamu. Several bottles are strewn across their table and Suna is pretty sure the twins are drunker than he is. And that's saying something, because he's still having trouble recalling what they were doing in the restaurant. 

“One more round!” Atsumu calls out. Suna isn’t sure he can drink much more but he’ll try. 

“I think that’s enough,” Sakusa says slowly, like he’s talking around his tongue. 

“But Omi! We’re Olympians! It ain’t celebrating if we’re not drunk!” 

Oh. That’s right. The National Team roster was announced two weeks ago, and they were holding a late celebration.  Suna isn’t sure if he’s allowed to feel happy, partly because it doesn’t feel real, not yet anyway. He’s on the National Team. His chest begins to feel heavy and he grabs one of the bottles newly placed on their table, popping the cap and taking a swig.

“He’s right,” Suna drawls, swallowing the alcohol with a grimace. “We gotta really drink if we’re celebrating.”

“I dunno about you guys, but ‘m feeling real drunk,” Osamu sighs. 

Still, he reaches forward and grabs a bottle for himself and sips at it quietly, letting some of the liquid dribble down his chin. He absentmindedly wipes it with the back of his hand. Suna thinks Osamu’s the cutest thing he’s seen all week. 

It’s much later in the night when Sakusa insists they all drink some water and stop chugging so much liquor, pushing full glasses into their hands. Atsumu pouts but drinks his water anyways, playing with the chipped wood of the table. 

“So, ‘Samu. How’s it going with that guy? Yoshino?”

“Yasuda,” Sakusa quietly corrects. 

“Yeah, yeah, him.”

Osamu glances at Suna for a quick second and clears his throat. “Things are alright. ‘S nothing special.”

“Who’s Yasuda?” Suna mumbles.

His throat feels thick and his head feels way fuzzier than it did two seconds ago. 

“A new face at the shop. He likes helping out after hours a lot.”

"A new hire?"

"Well, not really a hire, but-"

“You’re seeing him?”

“Uh.”

There’s a thick pause as Osamu once again glances at Suna and then looks down at the table.

“Yup. Kinda? ‘S not really anything yet, y’know?” His voice slurs at the end.

That’s right. He’s drunk. Suna’s drunk, too. So it’s okay if he starts to feel a little like he’s losing control, because that’s what alcohol is all about isn’t it? Letting loose, having a good time, being honest. So far, Suna has checked off the first two points on that list, he can manage a clean sweep tonight. 

“Should you be dating one of your employees?” He wonders out loud, scratching the back of his hand. 

He hears Atsumu make some sort of noise but pays him no mind, looking straight at Osamu, who looks uncomfortable. His eyes are wandering like they don’t know where to settle and he’s shifting around in his seat. 

“Well, we’re not dating or anything like that, ‘s just. I dunno, he’s interested in me, I think. Has been since before I let him help out. And he’s not really an employee...”

Suna hums but doesn’t say anything else. He tunes out the rest of the conversation and downs the rest of his sake, relishing the burn as it goes down his throat and runs through his bloodstream. It doesn’t last, though, and a wave of loneliness crashes over him. Irritated, he sucks his teeth and opens one of the beers that had been pushed to the side earlier to angrily sip at it.

“The hell is yer problem?” 

“Nothing, Atsumu, I didn’t even say anything,” he rolls his eyes. 

“Doesn’t mean you ain’t thinking some slick shit, Sunarin, ya got a problem with him seeing someone?”

“Don’t do this right now, Atsumu,” Sakusa mumbles, lightly touching his partner’s elbow. 

“No, Omi, ‘m tired of this.” He stands up, hands balled up into fists at his side. “I’ve been pretty quiet, because I promised ‘Samu I would, but I can't keep doing this.” 

“So what! Maybe I am bothered!” Suna stands up as well,  heart racing as Atsumu narrows his eyes at him. “Am I not allowed to be?” 

“No! Ya can’t!”  

There are very few times Suna can say he’s seen Atsumu look genuinely pissed. When the twins fought in high school immediately comes to mind. There was that time in third year when he was lecturing the first years for messing around too much. Other than that, he can’t say he’s really been present for Atsumu’s wrath. Now, though, Suna is pretty sure that this is the closest he’ll ever get to experiencing the blonde’s brand of fury.

“Suna, how many people have you dated since the two of ya broke it off, huh? And now that ‘Samu is moving on you get all sour? Fuck you!” 

“Enough, ‘Tsumu.” 

Osamu’s shoulders are trembling when they all turn their attention to him, but his eyes are dry. His knuckles are white from how hard his fingers grip the table and his voice is hoarse. As much as he looks like he should be, though, Osamu isn’t crying. But his eyes...it’s like they’re screaming at Suna, that they want to, that behind the forced calm in those gray eyes, there’s a dam waiting to be broken. 

“Osamu-” Suna tries, but his voice barely comes out of his throat, a scratchy whisper clawing its way up and out his mouth.

“Can we leave, ‘Tsumu? I wanna leave.” 

Atsumu slowly sits down and puts his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Of course, ‘Samu, don’t...don’t make that face, okay? We can go home now, c’mon.” 

He watches the Miya twins stumble out of the little shop and into the fresh air. Sakusa is quietly gathering their things and handling payment. Suna, unsure of what to do with himself, rearranges the bottles on the table into straight lines, then moves to wait for Sakusa to finish by the door. 

“Suna.” Sakusa stops him from walking away when they get outside. “Whatever is going on with you, figure it out already. You’re hurting them both.”

He turns away, pulling his mask over his face, and tells him, “Get home safe.” 

The next week Atsumu texts him that Osamu stopped seeing the new guy. 

Happy now? the text on his screen reads. 

Suna thinks of all the glass bottles lined up on the restaurant table and how Osamu had tried his best to keep Suna from finding out about Yoshino or Yasuke, whatever his name is. He closes his eyes and sees Osamu trying not to cry and sighs.

“Not at all.”

“Can you tell me...why? Ya never told me, Rin.” 

Osamu turns towards him in bed, folding his arm underneath his head and looking up at Suna, who is leaning against the headboard. He reaches down and cards a hand through dark hair, scratching his scalp every now and then.

“It just doesn’t feel right. Not now.” 

“Why did you propose then?” 

“I...thought it was a good time. I guess I got carried away, ‘Samu. Sorry.” 

He meant it then. Suna had never felt so much love towards another person in his life. That’s why he proposed. But he doesn’t know how to explain that he’s scared of what things will be like in the future, so he lies. Just a little bit.

“When will it be a good time?” 

“How should I know?” 

“If you don’t know, how am I supposed to know?” 

“Do we have to know everything?” 

Osamu sighs and rolls away. 

“Isn’t it better to know at least something? ‘M tired of feeling around in the dark, Rin.”

It’s been a long time since Suna’s been in this apartment, but the feeling he gets as he walks up the steps hasn’t changed. After Atsumu messaged him, Suna gave himself a few days to collect his thoughts. No more starting potentially life changing conversations without any plans. That’s not to say he knows what he’s doing, but he at least knows that he doesn’t want to hurt Osamu anymore. He can work with that.

He knocks on the door and waits a few seconds, hearing silence on the other side. He knocks again, a little more firmly, and sighs when he’s met with silence once more.

“What are you doing here, Suna?”

He jumps a little, turning around at the voice to see Osamu standing behind him, a deep frown on his face.

“I’ll be quick, I promise.” 

Osamu looks him up and down, still frowning, before shrugging his shoulders, pushing past him to unlock his door and gesturing for him to follow him in. He’s wearing sweats and a worn out blue hoodie, suggesting that today was, in fact, his day off, the bag in his hand tells Suna he was coming home from a quick grocery run.

Suna stands in the kitchen doorway awkwardly, pulling at his fingers while Osamu puts away the cold tea he brought and pulls out a bowl to whisk some eggs in. The metal fork clangs against the porcelain, over and over, until Suna feels a headache starting to come on. 

“I’m sorry. You didn’t have to break up with that guy.”

“We weren’t together.” 

Osamu stops whisking, setting the fork down on a napkin and pouring the beaten eggs onto the pan, a quiet sizzle escaping as it meets the hot butter. 

“And I didn't want to get into a relationship I couldn't be fully committed to,” he mumbles. It’s a little bitter. 

He rolls the eggs slowly, folding them over and over. Rice is piled high in a bowl, bits of chicken sprinkled inside. Osamu hesitates for a moment before pushing his sleeves back and grabbing a pair of chopsticks, sitting at the table to eat.

Suna can only watch him from the doorway, shocked. There’s no way. 

“You really…you’re still in love with me? Like, actually?” 

“For some fucking reason, yeah.” He aggressively digs into the food. “And ‘m tired of it, Suna,” Osamu complains through a mouthful of rice. “You're so happy with your new life away from me but ya won’t let me be happy.” 

Hearing it out loud, having it confirmed outside of the barriers of his own imagination, Suna feels like he’s been slammed into with a two-ton truck; after everything, after Suna spent all this time being so self-absorbed, Osamu somehow found it in himself to hold on to his feelings. 

Osamu shoves the full bowl of food away from him and slams his fist down, the table shaking from the force. 

“Why can’t I be happy too?!” 

For the first time in a long time, Suna starts to truly understand what he’s been doing wrong. In yet another amazing feat, he’s somehow managed to fool everyone but himself into believing that he’s happy. Mentally, he kicks himself. It’s hard being honest, but he has to start trying eventually. Right? He’s a little late, but it’s better than never, he hopes.

“I’m not happy. Not really.”

He walks towards the table, cautiously pulling out a chair and sitting across from Osamu. 

“When we were together, everything started feeling like…I was drowning. I started feeling like I wasn’t happy. I hated feeling like that. So I tried to change that. And when we stopped being together, I felt different.” 

At the time, he had assumed that was a good thing, but honestly looking back, he just felt lost, like he was constantly trying to fill a hole that wouldn’t close. 

“But I miss you Osamu. In a lot of ways that I don’t fully understand.” 

“You miss me because I’m familiar,” Osamu scoffs. “Ya don’t really love me, Suna.” 

“But I do!” 

“Not the way I love you!”

Suna sucks in a breath. 

“It’s not even about the wedding or us breaking up. Rin, you don’t- part of being with someone is sharing yourself. ‘M not the best at that, but at least I was always trying. You don’t try.” 

He opens his mouth to argue and Osamu cuts him off. 

“Don’t. All ya ever did back then was hide shit. If you had a bad day, if you were feeling emotional over something, if you were having second thoughts. Ya didn’t tell me anything!”

“I told you things,” Suna argues weakly. 

“Yeah, that you didn’t wanna marry me anymore. And then ya told me ya didn’t love me enough to stay with me. You made all these decisions in your head without even asking me how I felt about them.” 

“I wish you would stop deciding things for both of us.”

“We coulda talked about how you were feeling, Rin,” Osamu sighs. “I tried giving you space, but you just kept pulling away from me. Why couldn’t ya just tell me what was wrong?”

“I didn’t know how.”

“Do you know now?”

“I was scared.” 

At the end of the day, no matter how many circles Suna runs around, that’s what it comes down to. Fear. He’s seen what happens when you prepare yourself to spend the rest of your life with someone, and how easy it is for it all to fall apart. He didn’t want that for him and Osamu. Having something as binding as marriage, something that was supposed to be so permanent, scared him. 

“I let my fears and everything I was worried about take over my life. I didn’t know how to tell you without hurting you, but I ended up hurting you anyways,” Suna grimaces. “I felt like I was being choked. Then I started to blame you, but it wasn’t your fault at all.”

Osamu’s face is passive, his eyes unfocused, but Suna knows he’s listening as he says, “I had to get away. I’m sorry, ‘Samu.”

“So did ya mean it?”

He falters. “Did I mean what?”

“Ya said ya didn’t love me enough. Or if it was right. Did ya mean it?”

Maybe, at the time, he did. Or maybe he was lying to himself. Of course Suna loves Osamu. He never stopped. But instead of doing anything about it he’s just been…destroying his life. And Osamu’s in the process, it seems. 

“In a way, I think I did.”

Osamu grits his teeth and pushes his chair back, but Suna rushes to calm him down, reaching over in a panic to stop him from leaving. When his hand meets the warmth of Osamu’s arm, it sends a jolt through him, but he doesn’t pull back. He locks eyes with Osamu instead, letting his hand slide down and resting his fingers lightly on his wrist, not quite holding him in place, but asking. For a moment. 

“I wasn’t loving you right then,” he says softly. “I was too scared to love you as much as I wanted to, or as much as you deserved. I assumed you’d do all the work for me and that I could just. Well, I don’t know, really.”

“It was so hard for me, Rin. I kept asking myself what more I could have done to make ya stay. But ya wouldn’t give me a chance to convince ya. If I’d known you were feeling that way, we could have figured somethin’ out.”

Suna never even considered a scenario where he and Osamu made it past that night still in a relationship, where it only survived in their memories as a rough patch that the two of them would grow to laugh about years later. He’s always thought that things could have only ended with him and Osamu living their lives as individuals. Not as a unit. 

If only he had learned the value of talking things out back then.

He pushes himself out of his chair and drags it around the table to sit next to the other man, facing him. The food on the table isn’t emanating any sort of warmth anymore, and Suna feels kind of sorry for ruining Osamu’s meal.

“I do care about you, Osamu. I won’t apologize for ending things; I think I really did need that time away, but,” he takes a deep breath, pushing past every instinct that’s telling him to stop talking, “I’ll apologize for everything after. I haven’t been a good friend to you, have I?” 

Finally, Osamu cracks. His eyes water a little and he blinks rapidly, trying to stop them. 

“Ya keep making me cry, ‘Tsumu wants to strangle ya.” 

“I know,” he laughs wetly. “I’ll leave you alone, Osamu.” 

“I don’t want you to.”

Suna frowns. “After all of this?” 

“It’s hard to believe, I know,” Osamu jokes. 

He gets why Sakusa was so upset after the exhibition match; just the thought of pretending like the past two or so years never happened and getting into a relationship feels wrong. 

“Don’t make that face, ‘m not saying we gotta jump right into living together. But we can, I dunno, just. Start over?”

“Like high school?” Suna asks dumbly, earning a small, closed-lip smile. 

“I didn’t mean that far back,” Osamu tugs on his sweater sleeve, “but kind of? We haven’t really been friends, and we still got shit to talk through, but I’m tired of feeling this way everytime I see you.”

Somewhere in the back of his head, there’s a little man in a dark suit telling Suna there’s some sort of hidden fee or something, that there’s no way in hell this conversation could be going this well. There isn’t another little man in a suit there to give a counter argument, but Suna makes the executive decision to ignore the little man. He doesn’t have to be so pessimistic all the time. Things are going well. He doesn’t need to read into it. 

He’s taken his first step. Now, onto the next.

It’s cold out. Atsumu is a dumb bastard and if Suna had the chance, he’d punch him right in between his eyes. 

“Asshole, just let me in!”

“Nope! Now fuck off from in front of our door already, Suna!”

That stupid, smug voice. Suna wants to strangle him. He can’t. He’s here to make amends. Or try to. If some prick would let him already. 

“Sakusa!”

“Leave me out of this,” so he says, but Suna hears the dry drawl from right behind the door. They both suck.

A gust of icy wind pinches the back of his neck and he shivers, burying his chin in coat. It would be so easy to turn around and go to the train station to wait for the next train. He wants to. 

“Atsumu. I’m sorry, alright?” It’s still quiet on the other side of the door. “Osamu forgave me.” 

Finally, the door swings open. Atsumu is frowning hard, deep lines around his mouth and a hard look in his brown eyes, arms crossed over his chest. He’s not intimidating, but it is off-putting; Atsumu feels so closed off to him, almost like he’s being treated like a stranger.

“It’s not just about- Suna do you know how hard it’s been? I’ve spent the last three years of my life tryna get my brother to be happy again.” 

Atsumu takes a deep breath, running a hand through limp blonde hair. 

“You were family, Suna. Ya still are. But it’s hard to see you that way when all you’ve been doing is make my brother miserable. Especially when I know it’s because ya got yer head up yer ass,” he rolls his eyes hard at that.

“I’m trying to pull it out now, jerk,” Suna hisses. “If you would let me. Why do you think I even bothered coming here?”

Atsumu narrows his eyes, but Suna sees his rigid posture loosen up the slightest. Behind him in the apartment, Sakusa is watching with mild interest on his face. Nosy bastard. 

“To keep it short." This is easy. He can do this. "I'm...sorry," he grits out. 

"I thought I could just get rid of whatever was making me feel like shit and didn't think of anyone else. I’m impulsive and stupid and caused you a lot of stress. You too, Sakusa.” 

He hears Atsumu mutter, “That’s the shitty apology I get?” but ignores him to pay attention to Sakusa, who finally pipes up from inside, moving forward to hover behind his boyfriend. 

“As long as I don’t have to deal with miserable Miyas anymore, I forgive you.” 

“Feelin kinda insulted here,” Atsumu protests, “but you don’t gotta be a total stranger Sunarin. Like I said, you’re family. Just keep your shit together, alright?”

“Okay, okay. Can I come in now?”

He’s met with two confused looks. 

“It’s cold.” 

“And? ‘M pretty sure we’re done here,” Atsumu starts nudging the door closed, Sakusa’s hand poised as backup to grab the doorknob.

Suna rushes forward to try and grab the outside knob, or stick his foot in the doorway, or something, but they’ve got him beat and the door slams shut, any of the warmth slowly seeping out disappearing in an instant.

“At least let me pee before I get on the train!”

This last step has been coming for a long time, Suna thinks as he stares at his phone. It hasn't been enough time, though, to prepare for the conversation waiting for him. He just has to hit the contact. Just a quick tap. Of course, there’s the possibility that after he taps the contact, the phone will just ring and ring and ring, and his act of confidence, his would-be triumph, would come to an end without seeing its conclusion. 

Just thinking of failing like that pisses him off. Despite taking quite a few losses the past couple of years in his life, Suna is not a person that enjoys losing. Being competitive is in his blood. Something as stupid and arbitrary as voicemail can’t stop him, he thinks as he angrily smashes his finger against his phone’s screen. 

“Rintarou?”

Oh. The phone didn’t even ring twice before the very unfamiliar voice of his father sounded from the other end. He’s unprepared, but he coughs out a greeting anyways, hoping he sounds as awkward as he feels. If he has to suffer through this phone call, he refuses to be alone.

“Did you..did you need something, son?”

“Mom said you’ve been bugging her about me calling. Or not calling. So...I’m calling.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right.” It was months ago, his father doesn’t say. “I think I just wanted to talk to you?”

“Are you asking me?”

He’s being difficult, he knows, but he can’t help the frustration he feels at his father’s hesitance. What’s the point in begging his mother for months and months on end to get in contact with him if he has nothing to say? How could he have nothing to say? They haven’t talked in years. Suna is almost 27. He’s spent more of his life away from his father than he has with him. 

“You know,” he starts, tired of the silence, “I called you back once. In high school. You didn’t answer when I called, and you didn’t call me back. You’ve only ever called Mom. ”

He stares into a corner of the room, not gazing at anything in particular. It’s a shadowy little corner, most of the light coming into the room missing it by a few inches. 

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“It’s not...like I didn’t want to speak with you. I just...didn’t know how.”

“Simple things like ‘How are you?’ would have been a good start,” Suna scoffs. “I was gonna get married, did you know that?”

“No,” his father says quietly. 

“Two years ago. And then I broke it off. We had been dating for ten years at that point. I loved him, I really did. I still do.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling him this. It’s not his business. It really, really isn’t. But he continues. “And I’m bi. You didn’t know that, did you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I was super shitty to my girlfriend when I broke up with her last year. I couldn’t help being mean, even though I didn’t really want to be.” 

I’m gonna be an Olympian. I made the National Team. Cool, right? I got super drunk at a celebration party and almost made my ex cry because I got jealous. Pathetic, isn’t it? But then we made up. You know, you and Mom never really taught us how to apologize when we’re in the wrong. All I knew was how to run around in circles. I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Not when it comes to my life or this fucking phone call. It’s annoying and I hate it and I kind of hate you. 

“You know, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he says. 

“I know,” his father replies. “I’m sorry, Rintarou.”

“Cool. Stop calling Mom.”

And then he hangs up.

Last week, Suna turned 28 years old. He didn’t do much on his actual birthday besides answer a few congratulatory messages and get drinks with Washio and Komori, although they actually didn’t drink very much because the years before 30 are when the human body forgets how to handle massive amounts of alcohol. Also, he hadn't really been in the mood to get trashed.

But the feeling of urgency that sometimes comes with growing older has taken a grip on his mind, making him feel as if he’s running out of time to do everything he needs to do.  He doesn’t know what those things are though. It’s beyond unreasonable to expect him, or anyone, to have all the answers, which is something it took him a long time to realize. So it's okay that he doesn't know everything. As long as he knows a few things, he's all set. 

Suna stretches his legs out, feeling his muscles tighten as the rest of his body follows, tensing for just one moment before relaxing completely. Unlike the bitter wind outside, Osamu’s living room is toasty and warm. A little too toasty, to be honest, but they both get cold easily so this works perfectly for them. Osamu slides down from the couch to join him on the floor, sitting with his legs folded. 

“So?” Osamu asks. 

“So?”

“How was your birthday?”

“Nothing special,” Suna shrugs, “I just had a little crisis about my bones deteriorating.”

Osamu snorts. “What a weird way to say yer worried about getting older.”

“Osamu?”

“Hm?”

“I’m a lot happier this year than I was last year.”

“Rin?”

Suna ignores the confused frown he receives. “I’ve decided to abandon my self-destructing ways,” he jokes, but he’s not really joking. “I had a girlfriend, Aina, do you remember her?”

“I don’t wanna hear about one of your exes,” Osamu frowns a lot harder, “but, yeah. I remember.”

“She’s an ex for a reason,” Suna points out. “The breakup wasn’t messy, but it was mean. She stormed out and called me a miserable bastard and said I should learn to leave people out of my messes.” He holds a hand up at the indignant sound Osamu makes. “She wasn’t wrong, honestly. And that’s fine. I like to think I’ve grown since then.”

“Damn right you have,” Osamu growls, irritation clouding his voice. Then, softer, “You have. And I’m happy for ya, Rin. You deserve to be happy.”

Suna smiles. If there was one thing he loved about Osamu, it was his unshaking confidence in the things he believed in. Sometimes it failed him, but he clung to it, and made sure that you could hear it when he spoke to you. He’s so earnest, so honest, it hurts. 

“Are you happy, Osamu?”

“I think I am, yeah. When I think about the past, it doesn’t feel as heavy anymore. Before, it used to weigh down my brain until I felt like I was gonna explode from the pressure. There was always a knot in my chest and it grew every time I had to spend time in the same room as you.”

His eyes look like they’re watching a scene from the past that Suna can only imagine. He doesn’t know what Osamu’s side of the breakup looks like, and he probably won’t know anytime soon.

“Now, though, the knot is mostly gone. No offense, but seeing you in doses over the course of this past year has been so helpful.”

“None taken,” he laughs softly. “I’m glad.” 

Osamu turns towards him, then, a more serious look in his eyes, and it startles him for a moment to have piercing steel staring him down.

“It’s helped me realize that ‘m not just holding on to old feelings for you. I still like the way ya smile at me, and the weird ass ways you describe things, and I still don’t like when you hum to fill up awkward silences, and I still look forward to seeing you whenever yer in town,” his gaze softens, “I love you, Rin. Whatever we have going on now doesn’t have to change, but I love you. And I wanna keep being happy and growing with ya. Is that okay?”

“Did you have to steal my thunder?" Suna whines, earning him a laugh and a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he grins, toothy and wide, and as always, Osamu is the prettiest sight Suna’s seen.

“‘Is that okay?’, he asks. ‘Is that okay?’ Of course it’s okay,” Suna sniffs, rubbing under his nose with one finger. “I’ve learned since the last time we dated. This time, I have the communication upgrade.”

They both burst out laughing at that, a full, deep laugh that has them leaning on each other for support. Maybe they lean on each other just for the sake of being close too. 

“I promise,” Suna coughs, trying to catch his breath because he is serious about what he’s trying to say, “I promise to properly say goodbye whenever I have to leave. When we fight, I won’t just assume that we’re on the same page. When I’m unsure about something, I’ll tell you. When I’m upset, I won’t bottle it up and wait for you to figure it out and adjust to my tempo. I won’t decide things for us anymore.” 

He grabs Osamu’s hand and takes it into his lap, looking at him fondly and is pleasantly surprised to see the same fond gaze directed at him.

“I want to love you the way I do in my head. The way I’m supposed to, in a way that tells you I love you as much as you love me. Is that okay?”

He doesn’t really need to hear the answer as Osamu pulls him closer, until they’re all tangled up in each other’s laps, but he smiles as Osamu presses a soft kiss to his chin and says:

“Of course it is.”