Work Text:
with atsumu away at the japan youth training camp, it’s one of the rare moments that osamu gets to walk you home alone.
there’s a warm breeze blowing in the air, and even though the sunset paints the evening sky in golds and oranges, he thinks it’s your smile that shines the brightest. you’re just talking about school, as you always do on your walks home together, and you’re way too preoccupied with recalling the events of your day to even spare him a glance, but osamu can’t help but look at you, more interested in how your features glimmer in the glowing sun than whatever you’re going on about.
“‘samu are you even listening to me?”
“sorry, i got uh–distracted,” he tells you, tearing his gaze away from your soft lips. “what were you saying?”
“i was saying this is our last year together,” you huff, turning away from him once again. “we’re leaving soon, and i don’t know if we’ll be able to talk to each other much after we graduate.” you hang your head, now focusing on the rocks by your feet.
“you think we’ll see each other again someday?” osamu asks, feeling a tight knot in his chest.
“who knows,” you whisper, your lips curving up into a small smile, “but whenever we do i hope you’ll still remember me.”
and he does, because how could he not? how could he ever forget you? even though you’ve said your goodbyes, even though you’re miles away from each other, and even though the years go by without any contact, osamu remembers you in the littlest of ways.
he thinks of you when he’s coming up with new recipe ideas, remembering how you used to love chicken katsu. he remembers to grab a bowl of ramen every october 5th because you once told him how you’re supposed to eat noodles on your birthday to live a long life. he remembers you whenever he eats takoyaki—how you used to never wait for it to cool down, too worried atsumu would steal it away from you, and how you always ended up burning your tongue.
and osamu remembers you, ten years later, when he hears the chime of his doorbell ring and sees you standing at the entrance of his little shop.
your hands fly up to cover your gasp, and you run up to hug him immediately, not bothering to hide your excitement.
he’s quick to catch you in his arms, but the feel of your body on his suddenly has osamu feeling very self-conscious. he’s positive that his hair is incredibly flat, having been under a cap for hours on end. he can feel how heavy his bags are under his eyes, and he doesn’t even want to think about the way he smells after cooking all day.
“i can’t believe it’s really you!” you beam at him, not seeming to mind or notice any of his worries, “it’s been so long, oh my god!”
“y-yeah,” he stammers, ruffling some volume into his hair, and when you finally let him go, osamu’s quick to rip off his food-stained apron, hoping to look just somewhat more presentable in front of you. “what are you doing around here?”
“i moved here not too long ago and i work around the area. i was gonna pick up some dinner before heading home when i saw onigiri miya and thought of you…” warmth spreads across your cheeks, and when you look around to see the dim lights and the chairs propped upside down on the tables, you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed by the way you barged into his restaurant.
“i guess i’m a little late though,” you chuckle nervously. “i’ll just grab something from 7/11 later, i live right by there.”
“no, wait!” osamu chimes in, ushering you to the barstool at the counter. “stay right there.” he disappears behind the curtain but is back in an instant with a plate in hand. “here, have some of this. a customer ordered it online an hour ago but never came by to pick it up.”
you quirk a brow at him.
“you haven’t seen me in how long, and the first thing you do is give me leftovers?”
osamu snorts, a sense of ease washing over him with how quickly you jumped right back into teasing him, as if an entire decade didn’t separate the two of you.
“hey that onigirazu is our most popular item. if you don’t want it—”
“i was just kidding!” you whine, grabbing the plate from him. there’s a baked chicken katsu sandwiched in between the rice and seaweed, and you sigh when you take a bite, tasting the tonkatsu sauce on your tongue.
“mm, ‘samu, this is so good! that customer doesn’t know what they’re missing,” you tell him, happily chewing on your food.
“glad you like it,” he says, a soft smile playing on his lips. “you mind waiting for me a bit? you can keep eating, i’m just gonna finish cleaning up and i’ll walk you home after. you said you live by the 7/11 right?”
his sudden offer makes you choke a bit, and osamu is already grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, chuckling at the fact that you still had the habit of eating too fast for your own good. then again, trying to keep up with him and his brother might do that to you.
“you really don’t have to,” you cough, giving your chest a few good smacks. “you’re already feeding me, i don’t want you to go out of your way.”
“it’s fine, i’m headed that way anyway.”
he isn’t, but you don’t have to know that.
because as lucky as he feels to bump into you again after all these years, osamu doesn’t want to leave everything in the hands of fate. besides, what are a few extra miles when he gets the chance to be with you again?
there’s a bit of a chill in the air, but you’re still as warm as ever, welcoming him back into your life with open arms. strolling through the streets of hyogo takes him back to high school, and he reminisces about the times he used to walk you home after school.
he remembers the times you used to spend together, how you used to make him laugh, and how your laugh used to make his heart flutter. he remembers how radiant your smile was, and still is, illuminating the streets even in the dark of night. and being here with you now, with you smiling up at him underneath the soft glow of the street lights, osamu remembers how much he’s always wanted to kiss you.