Archive of Our Own

I’m standing on the last road for today
It’s like this every day
In this big world

- Kita Shinsuke, in his unreleased song 'SIMPLE'

1:37 am

The time read on Atsumu’s phone as the elevator of the building opened to the floor he had clicked the moment he entered, letting his feet take him to a room that he knows the interior now by heart. His bleached hair with hues of blond and purple was hidden in a beanie and the hood of his hoodie, his face that was breaking out from the constant use of makeup covered with a black face mask — hiding him from the outside world and letting him have a moment of peace.

He carried a plastic bag of snacks and drink, filled to the brim because he knows that people who usually stay up at this hour is either insomniatic, filling their bellies with food while watching a movie, cramming a coursework, or been up since the morning and has yet to eat a single proper meal the whole day because they were pulled with what they were doing. Something in Atsumu tells him that he’s right.

Looking at his manager’s text of coming home before 4am to get some sleep before his 7am schedule, his footsteps heard through the empty hallways as he trudged forward. Soon enough, a door that was illuminated with blue lights from the inside came into view, a muffled sound of clicking was heard and the shape of the person inside was seen looking through various monitors (as said by how their shadows darted from one side to another).

Atsumu knocked, knowing fully well that he wouldn't be heard. He waited a total of three minutes before he let himself in, his hand reaching forward to grab the doorknob and twisting it — unlocking the door that lead to the room where the magic happens.

Music instruments were scattered all around the place, the blue LED lights and large monitor serving as the main source of light. Music equipment were placed in front of the monitor, with wires tangling from years before — but were tucked meticulously and properly away from an outsider’s field of vision. In the middle is a man, with noise-canceling headphones on top of his ears, who has been busy fiddling with the different buttons and settings (Atsumu ignores the fluttering of his heart as he realizes that they’re using the headphones he had gifted him this Christmas). His silver hair dipped with ebony ink was glowing so ethereally that Atsumu still freezes as soon as his eyes land on him. 

He placed his backpack on the couch near the door, muttering a soft “ Shitsurei shimasu.” Walking towards the busy male, Atsumu placed the plastic bag on the spot next to the synthesizer before tapping their shoulder. “Kita-san, take a break.”

The older male jumped slightly at the tap, taking the headphones off of his head and onto his neck. Kita blinked owlishly at the new addition to his studio, his brown eyes darting from Atsumu to the monitor to check the time. Atsumu smiled and took a seat, watching amusedly as the latter had not realized how fast the time had flown while he was busy in his own little space bubble of beats and tunes.

Kita Shinsuke — a trainee-turned-producer under their entertainment as soon as he had learned how to create a simple beat all on his own. Atsumu had met him five years ago, back when he was just in his early teens — full of dreams and hopes. Kita had been a trainee longer than he was, being in the company for a total number of two or so years before Atsumu joined. Over the course of their years, they had been grouped and hung around each other to be called as friends. Atsumu confided with Kita about his insecurities and doubts while the latter opens up about dropping as a trainee to pursue being a producer — a feat that Atsumu noticed brings fire in the latter’s eyes that nothing or nobody has ever done.

In the end, Kita did push through with his wish — the calling of creating music was far more loud than the calling of standing in the same stage as Atsumu. Although hurt that he wouldn’t be sharing the stage with the person who had stood by his side through thick and thin, Atsumu also knew that Kita wouldn’t be as happy as he was at this moment if he had stayed and ultimately debuted with him. 

There was something that sparkled in the latter’s eyes when he showed Atsumu's debut song, eyebags decorating their eyes and everybody could tell he hadn't been sleeping in order to finish the song. Atsumu fretted but as soon as he heard the music, he knew just why Kita had forgotten his sleep. The track had been meticulously crafted to fit Atsumu’s image, the upbeat track worming its way into his entire being. Up to now, he wonders what Kita was thinking when he created the track, too scared to find out but too curious for his brain to let this question go.

“Oh. I wasn’t aware of the time.” Kita said, turning his head towards Atsumu before trailing to the plastic bag in concern. “You know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Atsumu scoffed, opening the bag and digging through it before perking up as he took out two drinks — one strawberry milk for Kita and one banana milk for himself. Placing the drink into Kita’s hand, he struck his straw in his and took a sip. “Kita-san, you’ve been holed up in this studio the moment you’ve entered the building. If it wasn’t for Ami-san and Tori-san, you wouldn’t even have eaten anything. So if anything, you should be thanking me since I’m feeding your poor stomach.” Atsumu pouted, sipping his milk while trying to give Kita a stern gaze.

”If this goes on any longer, I’ll have to call in back-up in the form of your two competitive cousins.”

At the mention of his cousins, Kita grimaced and finally relented on Atsumu’s request (more like command, if he was to be very honest). “Please don’t call Kou-chan and Ei-chan.” He pleaded, taking a snack from the plastic bag — a matcha pocky, a combination he likes. 

“Then don’t overwork yourself.” Atsumu said firmly, not skipping a beat as he took out one of the snacks from the plastic bag as well — a custard flavored KitKat. He munched happily, pointing one of the wafers at Kita accusingly. “You know how Semi-san is when either you or Bo overwork yourselves.”

“Like he doesn’t do it himself. If it wasn’t for Ken, he’d be staying up at this hour like me.” Atsumu heard Kita grumble before munching the match pocky, hiding a soft snicker at the jab the older did on his guitarist cousin. He plopped the wafer on his awaiting mouth, munching it with a happy hum as he looked through the expensive equipment and the notebook in front of the producer.

He let curiosity get the best of him, scooting closer to get another look at the sound equipment. “What’re you even working on, anyway?” Atsumu asked, bumping his shoulders with Kita to get his attention. This action led Kita to promptly swat his shoulder softly, enough to create distance between the two.

“It’s the comeback song for KiZune. Management says they’re ready for a new concept for this comeback, so Keito has been coming in and out of this studio to help with the track.” Kita said, dusting his hands away from the equipment before resuming with the track, taking a sip once in a while as Atsumu watches in fascination. 

Atsumu let out a chuckle, leaning on the chair and turned his gaze from the monitor to the producer. “Ah, so that’s why Ryota-san was insistent on staying so we could go over the choreography for one of their b-sides. Poor kid was shaking nervously as we went through the steps together.”

Kita lets out a laugh, covering his mouth with one of his hands while his eyes crinkle in that adorable gesture that makes Atsumu beam happily. “Probably. They received the news two days ago, so I’m sure everyone is both nervous and excited for their comeback.” Kita said, his hands lowering from his mouth and digging through the plastic bag for another snack. Atsumu then subtly pushed the plastic bag closer to the snowy haired male. “I’m guessing the boss told you to co-choreograph their title track once again?”

“Naturally.” Atsumu proudly says, flicking his bleached hair suavely — earning a snort from the producer. “I finally found something I love more than performing on-stage. Just seeing the group and songs I choreographed just makes me proud, y’know? I bet you feel that way too when one of the songs you produced wins number one on the music charts. Even more so when you won Producer of the Year.” He teased, elbowing the other gently.

When Kita had decided to pursue the way into becoming one of the best producers known in the industry today, Atsumu still went on and eventually debuted as a soloist with a song that was one of Kita’s first creations. Kita doesn’t know that Atsumu had begged and pleaded with the producer to let Kita produce his debut song, even going as far as telling them he won’t push through with the debut if he won’t be singing a song that was made by the older’s practiced hands. A bold move for someone who has yet to debut but he got his wish anyways — which was honestly a good move on the company’s part, as not only did it blew up from the internet the moment it was posted but Atsumu had been dubbed as the monster rookie of that year with the song. It’s still one of the most covered songs to this day, a good five years after its release.

It had been at the peak of his career when he started choreographing the songs they got him to sing, reaching out to the man behind his moves so they could infuse both of their ideas. Soon, he was credited with choreographies and opened a channel for his own dance choreos of western songs. It took another two years for the company to debut an idol group for Atsumu to choreograph a dance to the track single-handedly — which by far was met with praise from his fans and the group's fans alike. This established his role as one of the best dancers in the ever competitive music industry.

Atsumu, who was known in the industry as the man who debuted and hailed as the monster rookie back in his first year, is now known as an all-rounder with a great charisma that could make any man and woman swoon from his gaze alone — a gaze that not only can render anyone speechless but could convey a thousand of words into it. 

Despite the fame and fortune that came with his debut and succeeding years, Atsumu never failed to mention how thankful he was for the never-ending support he got from both his fans and staff — often mentioning them on his winning speeches and lives. One in particular that caught his fans' interest was Kita’s name.

The first time that it happened, there were numerous rumors and even an article news post about the alleged ‘girlfriend’ that produces Atsumu’s songs. Though Atsumu was told to lay low, he had asked the producer’s permission to tell how they met and all, not wanting to do it without the latter’s permission. After a lot of internal debates and weighing the pros and cons, Kita had relented — thus the next time someone had asked about the alleged rumor about Atsumu’s girlfriend, he was relieved to finally tell the world just who Kita Shinsuke is to him.

Positive feedback was the reaction of many to the story of Atsumu and Kita’s friendship, though some of them speculate they are something more. Even his twin brother, Osamu, had raised his eyebrows as soon as Atsumu had sat down and started talking about the producer on the rare event that their schedules lined up and had went back to Hyogo to spend some much needed time with their family — a sentiment that their parents also share, if the knowing looks they exchanged were any indication.

Despite the increase of fame in Kita’s name — from both as a producer and Atsumu’s friend since trainee years —, he was still private about his life. Kita rarely shares his achievements online and most of the fans respect that. Afterall, seeing just how much Atsumu had to go through at the cost of his fame was enough for Kita to be thankful that he had chosen his path instead of debuting — as the sense of privacy was still intact and kept away from the scrutiny gaze from the public’s eyes. 

“Success is the product of our struggles and failures mixed with determination and perseverance.” Kita said, handing out a pair of headphones towards Atsumu. “Whether I did win that award or not, seeing as how people enjoy the music I created is enough for me to call it success.”

Atsumu chuckled, taking the headphones from Kita’s outstretched hand and placing it over his head — securing it on top of his ears. “You’re so humble, Kita-san. You’re making me feel like I’m a shallow man for enjoying the validation of the awards I get.”

The silver-haired man laughed, rolling his eyes playfully and shoving Atsumu’s shoulder. “I’m not saying you’re shallow for enjoying the validation that comes with those awards. You earned it, afterall. I’m just saying that I find a sense of accomplishment when I see at least one person enjoying my music.”

The dirty blond haired man chuckled, leaning forward so he could peer over what Kita was doing at the music equipment. “You’re always ahead of how people should think, makes me wonder if you’re really a year older than me. You sound more grown up than some of the staff here, if I were to be very honest.”

Kita snorted, hitting Atsumu’s shoulder while he fiddled with the application that was open in his computer. Taking a sip from the strawberry milk and a bite from one of the pocky sticks, Kita turns to Atsumu. “Hey, can you listen to this track? I’ve been playing with it since two days ago, but I can’t seem to find out what’s missing.”

Nodding his head, Atsumu listened closely as Kita pressed play on the application in his computer. Silence was heard until a heavy beat dropped, a track that was clearly made to be more on the EDM side instead of the acoustic ones that Kita was known to give to the idol group. He closed his eyes, letting the track fill his ears with harmonies that signify a heart wrenching tale that he has yet to hear for the words were still locked inside the confinements of paper and ink, right underneath the plethora of plastics filled with clothes and necessities inside Kita’s bag. A notebook stained with smudges of ink and scratched up words that would undeniably make any person listen to the meaning of the song, stopping them in their tracks at how versatile and different each soundtrack sounds, yet was produced by a single person.

In moments like this, Atsumu lets his mind wander to the "what could’ve beens’ and "what ifs" scenarios where Kita had pursued his path and stood with him by the debut stage that he had once dreamed of, once upon a time — back when their young minds thought that they could conquer the world once they had achieved all the fame and fortune, never realizing the prize of those words really was.

Yet, seeing the wondrous smile right dancing its way on Kita’s lips — the twinkle in his eyes that shined brightly as soon as the track sounded just right — and how the melodies fit right into one song — made Atsumu stop his train of thoughts in voicing out his questions of ‘ Did you ever regret choosing to forgo the trainee life to pursue your way into becoming a producer?’ and ‘Are you happy with what you have now, Kita-san?’. 

Who was he to deny Kita of what he truly wants, or of what he is passionate about? Atsumu was someone who was confident in every single aspect of his life — with all his skills and achievements to back him up, how could he not? —, but he was never selfish to any other person but himself. He was not selfish enough to want Kita to stay in a path that he clearly doesn’t have his whole heart set on. So the moment Kita, cool and rational Kita Shinsuke, came to him to talk about his decision to drop the trainee life nervously, Atsumu can only give him a soft smile that everyone knows is reserved for the people who he truly cares about deeply and a happy ‘Go for it, Kita-san!’. 

And now, a good four years since that day, Atsumu could see just why Kita opted to become a producer rather than an idol like he originally wanted to. Despite the extravagant life and the fame that comes with being an idol, it was no secret that every detail was now in the scrutiny of the public — even their past relationships and personal lives was a cost at the price of this job. Idols were made to fit in the standards of the public, whether it be beauty standards or dating standards. Rules were strictly followed and thus, for some times, freedom of speaking their minds and hearts were something they couldn’t do. Everything was monitored, from their interviews down to their public posts on their personal social networking accounts. 

Atsumu snapped out of his reverie, the melody from the track seemingly lacking a certain element that disrupted his thoughts from going far into his head. “Can you rewind it on this mark, Kita-san?” He asked, pointing at the time stamp where his gut was telling him the song was lacking something. Mentally cheering himself to get their complete focus on the track Kita was letting him listen to, Atsumu watched as Kita rewinded the track and played it again — listening to the beat as the track progressed.

Soon enough, Atsumu reached over to pause the track, taking the earphones off as he turned towards Kita. “That part sounds off, rushed even. I’m not sure if it’s because of making it look cool or something futuristic, but it doesn’t sit well with the whole song in general.” Atsumu says, his hands coming up to show how the whole section seems off. “I’m not sure if you wanted to match the lyrics but maybe this part could be eerily silent then suddenly the bass drops. Like, ten ten ten tenen bam ten . I think we can make that moment a ‘breathing moment’ for the kids after an intense choreography for the chorus.”

Despite his gibberish words that every choreographer has a knack of understanding, Kita listened seriously and was looking at Atsumu with a focused look in his eyes — considering every word that came out of Atsumu’s mouth, despite the fact that the latter not being well-versed in music production. “I think I get what you mean, let me fix it.” His golden eyes shifted from Atsumu’s brown hued once to the monitor, his hands already shifting on the mouse and keyboards as he played around with the elements on that certain part. 

The blond watched, his fingers reaching towards the snacks to grab a packet of mochi and took a bite while his eyes never strayed away from the physique of the older man. Atsumu watched as Kita’s face remained cool, calm and collected while his eyes expressed words that only people that are close to him could decipher. People always wondered just how could such a man, who was known for his typical stoic face and collected demeanor, be friends with Atsumu, an idol that was cheerful, loud and overall exuberant by nature. 

Despite what many people believe, Atsumu sees Kita as someone who had been through the turmoil of his life — through the ups and downs, the thick and thin, the highs and lows. Kita was someone who had proven time and time again that he would always support Atsumu, lending him a shoulder to cry on, berating him if he sees fit in what Atsumu has done, and chasing away the demons that plagued his thoughts when all the negativity and hate became too much to bear.

Kita Shinsuke may not be what most people perceived him to be, but Miya Atsumu was glad that he had the privilege to see him as what he truly is.

Atsumu had seen Kita smile that can rival the sun with how bright and warm it was; how Kita laughed like the sound of rain after months of drought; how his eyes crinkle while he shows him a series of meme photos that his fans had compiled every time he guest stars at a variety show; how his nose scrunches whenever he sees Atsumu by the cafeteria, munching on the lunch that makes his cheeks bloat up like a hamster. 

And most of all, Atsumu loves the way his eyes sparkle with emotions and hidden words that were left for them to decipher. How his golden eyes glinted with mischief while he participates in the occasional ‘make Atsumu embarrassed’ during the rare times they all hang out with Suna, Osamu, Akagi, Aran and Ren. How his golden eyes sparkled with fondness as he sits in the entertainment building’s coffee shop while spending a much needed time with Semi and Bokuto, both of which would often be in their usual ‘ steal Semi’s lyric book and expose how much of a simp he is for a resident doctor ’ game (Bokuto’s words, don’t blame Atsumu!). Or how his gaze softens as he whispers words on his cellphone as a theater actor with gunmetal eyes that makes his cousin melt calls him ever so often to discuss the plans that they have for the rambunctious actor and social media influencer.

Golden eyes meets his own copper ones, a hint of nervousness hidden within the depth of the latter’s irises as he gestures to the headphone sitting on Atsumu’s shoulders — a clear sign for the idol-slash-choreographer to put it on as the producer had finished adjusting the part to Atsumu’s suggestions. The blond idol grinned and removed the headphones on his shoulders before placing them on top of his ears. Giving Kita a nod, he closed his eyes as Kita pressed play.

Atsumu was not a music producer in any way, shape, or form. He expresses his emotions through the power of his execution of the choreography he made. The feeling of amplifying the raw emotion from a song into bodily movements was simply exhilarating to the dancer. He couldn't and wouldn't change it for anything else in the world. However, as he sat next to the man whose hair used to be snowy white with charcoal tips, listening to his song, Atsumu wonders if this is how Kita feels when he creates a song out of nothing.He knows just how hardworking the older man is, maybe even parring against his very own. Atsumu saw the hasty scribbles as Kita reached for any spare material to write on because they were grabbing a cup of coffee in the entertainment company’s cafe when a sudden inspiration struck the older male, who was now writing beats and lyrics that made absolutely no sense from an outsider's point of view. 

That is, until Kita had written, produced and altered it into a song filled with a myriad of emotions and feelings that seems to overflow with the vocals of the designated singers and their intricate choreography. 

Atsumu never told anyone but he's sure they know that creating a choreography to go with Kita's songs was one of the best things he's doing with this job. Even more so when Kita had asked for his opinions, regardless of having no knowledge of music production or lyric crafting. His earnest expression, mixed with emotions such as anticipation and abrupt attentiveness, brings chills down Atsumu's spine as he's reminded of the fact that this right here is Kita's passion — and Kita was more than willing to share it with him.

He let out a happy smile, far softer than the ones he shares in live broadcasts and variety shows — one that Atsumu usually reserves for his friends and family. Listening to the beat, his head banging to the rhythm and his fingers drumming to the heavy thump of the drums. Everything was placed meticulously well, as expected from a work done by Kita Shinsuke. 

"Everything's perfect, Kita-san!" He said, beaming happily, hoping that the producer would acknowledge that fact as well. Atsumu looks at the producer, eyes beaming with pride and joy while the rhythmic beating of the track fades into nothingness — hoping that the one sitting before him could see the genuine and honest expression on his face. 

Kita, after waiting patiently and fidgeting on the seat of his chair, gave him a small smile that conveys a lot of emotions, Atsumu’s very own multiplied by a thousand. He let’s the older male save the track, exhaustion finally making itself known to both of them as the blaring light of the clock by Kita’s table registers: 2:53 am.

Far too early to stay locked in the confinements of the studio and far too late for them to even consider working more.

“Kita-san,” Atsumu whined, a gesture that would surely make Suna tease him and rile him up if he was ever in the room. “It’s time to head back. It’s nearly three in the morning and I know for sure you’ll ‘wake up’ at 4:30 am to head back here and work on the track once more.”

Kita’s cheeks flushed as Atsumu called him out, a rare sight for the producer indeed — as it was always the other way around. Chuckling ever so lightly, Kita relented and checked if everything was saved before turning the computer off, making Atsumu let out a quiet celebratory dance as he too stood up from the chair. Atsumu took the bag of snacks, placing it inside Kita’s bag — he did buy it for the older male, so it was only fitting for him to take it home with him. Kita playfully rolled his eyes, letting Atsumu do as he pleased — knowing fully well that the blond has tricks up his sleeves and the plastic bag full of snacks will always end up at his house one way or another. “You should go home, you don’t have to wait for me.”

“Let me walk you home, Kita-san.” Atsumu said, opening the door and waiting for Kita to join him outside. “So I know I don’t have to take out my sleeping bag and camp in your studio like that one time you refused to go home.” He half-teasingly cut Kita off, letting him know he could and would do it. 

Kita lets out a soft laugh, stepping out of the studio and locking it. “I still can’t believe you actually did that, if I were to be very honest.” He said as they walked down the hallways and into the elevator. Both males fell into friendly teasing and bantering as they entered the elevator, continuing in hushed voices as the door dinged on the ground floor. They quickly bowed at some of the staff working the graveyard shift before exiting, the calm wind caressing their exposed skin softly. 

The walk towards the general area of their neighborhood was both comfortable and light, with both Kita and Atsumu talking amicably while simultaneously jabbing teasing remarks here and there. Although the air stilled as their conversation slowly faded into the night, it was a comfortable silence that accompanied them as they padded through the road in the dead of the early hours of the morning.

At times like this, Atsumu lets his mind wander on topics he dared not think of in broad daylight. His mind was still up and running miles and miles, filling it with thoughts and questions — despite the fatigue his body feels from staying up at the silent hours of early morning. He stole a glance at the person beside him, the thoughts of his cousins entering his mind before he even knew it.

The Siamese Cat Cousins, a term coined by Kuroo Tetsuro on the rare occasion he was able to join in their hangouts (after all, he is one of Japan’s well-loved soloists with a leading international fashion brand that requires him to go out of the country), were famous for their success in the showbiz industry: Semi being the guitarist and songwriter of the band, Oathkeeper, that won the Album of the Year award in the recent JM&E Award Show; Kita being the well-known producer that collaborates with various artists and has won Producer of the Year on the same award show, albeit a year before; and Bokuto being one of the household name in the acting industry, bagging the Best Leading Actor for the drama that went viral on the internet due to his spectacular acting. All cousins are talented in their own field, something that he knows Kita is proud of.

Yet, Atsumu can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that Semi would sacrifice his time sleeping to go out of his way to pick up the resident doctor (who apparently is the muse for the early heartbreaking songs Semi was written for the band during their early years) and have a midnight snack at a local ramen shop before dropping him off to the latter’s apartment. Nor will he ever get used to the fact that Bokuto had literally cleared his schedule to take care of a certain gunmetal-eyed theater actor when he found out that the latter had a serious case of the cold. He could never fathom why Osamu insists on bringing homemade bentos for Suna on the days when he’s having a photoshoot for a magazine; he never even made one for Atsumu! That traitor!

Indeed, despite all the sacrifices people around him had made in order to do something that would benefit others, Atsumu had never seen any ounce of regret in their faces in the aftermath of those events. Semi only sipped his cup of coffee whenever Kita and Bokuto met up at the cafe in their entertainment building. His eye bags were a clear indication of why the espresso was required in his daily cup of cafe latte; Bokuto accepted the scolding and punishment with his head held high, accepting responsibility for his actions even though the people could clearly see in his eyes that he would not hesitate to do it all over again if necessary.Atsumu stopped counting the times he had to remind Osamu of the time before the latter rushed out of the room, cursing both Atsumu for interrupting his time with Suna and himself for not being mindful of the time in general (he didn’t need to, seeing as he was his own boss, but the Miya twins prided themselves on the amount of discipline they had (despite what it may seem) — the only regret Atsumu can feel that is radiating on his brother is the regret of not being able to smack Atsumu’s annoying face due to the time constraint, with the shop being 30 minutes away from the company building. On occasions like these, Atsumu likes to wear that playful grin that he knows annoys Osamu, maybe occasionally sticking out his tongue as his brother hurriedly passes by him.

Seeing how people around him act, Atsumu wonders if that is what being in a relationship is like. Both parties are sacrificing something to make ends meet, a feeling mixed with both pain and joyful emotions that cuts deep into their souls, and the endless amount of dedication, communication, and trust put into their partner and vice versa. His mind was truly an endless void, spewing thoughts and questions to which he had no answers.

Stealing another glance at Kita, his thoughts drifted from their friends’ relationship to his own relationship — specifically, the relationship between him and KIta.

It has been six years since he walked through the doors of their designated practice room and introduced himself to his fellow trainees, six years since he had mistaken Kita for a girl on his first day and continued to think so until they were grouped together (as trainees were grouped according to their genders) two weeks later, and six years since they formed a stable foundation that led to this special friendship that Atsumu holds dear.

He could imagine spending his life with Kita, be it platonically or romantically. Atsumu may be an oblivious knucklehead, but he’s not oblivious to the fact that Kita is loveable, that anyone can and will fall for the silver-haired, charcoal-tipped male beside him. Atsumu knew that despite what hurdles they may face, whether they are the destined pair in the end or not, their friendship would always come first, that their friendship would prevail despite the turbulent waves of their journey. Both males have built a foundation since their early days as trainees up until this day that no earthquake can break this type of relationship they have with each other.

But was Atsumu willing to risk it all? Despite the facts presented to him, Atsumu is still human and has doubts and fears. What if he did take a chance, yet Kita didn’t feel the same way? What if he had misread everything all along and broken the strong foundation of their friendship just because of that?

His heart wrenched in pain from the mere thought of losing Kita and their friendship all because of one simple question.

“Atsumu?” Just as if sunlight had risen from its hidden nest, Kita’s voice cuts through the darkest corners of Atsumu’s mind, eradicating all the negativities that Atsumu’s brain had conjured against the sudden silent idol. Snapping his eyes towards Kita, Atsumu sees the concern and worry swimming in those golden eyes — which sparkles like a golden fluorescent moon underneath the warm streetlight.

Kita had also stopped walking, probably taking notice how Atsumu had faltered and halted — if he’d seen the blond’s expression, Kita wouldn't voice it out.  

“O-oh.” Atsumu stammered, shaking his head and proceeded to walk to where Kita was standing. “I think this is exhaustion catching up on me. My mind falls asleep while standing and all.” He scratched the nape of his neck, a nervous habit he had developed in his early childhood years and was one of the endearing traits his fans love about him.

A cloud of doubt passes through the producer’s eyes, a concerned frown weaving its way through the snowy haired male’s lips. However, given how Atsumu was working on a new choreography and practicing for a guest show performance — and even took the time to make sure to take care of the producer — Kita had relented and nodded his head then started walking towards the apartment complex.

Atsumu was glad Kita didn’t question him any further, for he was too afraid to utter the words inside his mind — too afraid of the questions lingering at the darkest corners.

"Kita-san." Atsumu breathes into the still air of the early morning, the gentle breeze brushing his face in assurance of the unknown feeling in his stomach. The man in question turns to him while they walk, the silent question in his gaze conveyed while his mouth stays silent. It still baffles Atsumu how far they have learned from each other, from their odd quirks down to the raging emotions hidden in their eyes..

“Will we still be friends, 10 years for now?” The sandy blond with golden irises asked, his head tilting towards the sky as they neared the apartment building. The stars were never that bright against the blinding lights of Tokyo — one of the downsides of being an idol, Atsumu decides one day while staring at the sky through the moving car’s tinted window. Back in Hyogo, he would often go to a clear path by the backyard and gaze at the dazzling lights above them — back when they were in their early years of youth, back when the only problem was scraped knees and dirty clothes. 

Hearing the chuckle from the reserved producer, Atsumu looks back down to Kita’s gaze. “What brought this on?” the soft voice asked, its melodies chiming through the silent streets and cold air of the early hours of the day. An amused expression flashes on Kita’s face, his eyes glinting so fondly that Atsumu felt the beat of his heart stopping.

Feeling a flush on his cheeks, he turns away from Kita’s gaze. Pocketing his hands, he shrugged. "I’d like to think that our friendship is something people desire to have — that no matter how many may enter our lives, it’s just so unique and so..." He trailed off, expecting his brain to come up with words to describe his friendship with the older female, only to be rendered speechless by the fact that not a single word, out of all the 1,025,109 letters in the languages he knows, had come to mind.He looks at Kita, hoping that the older one knows that the sheepish smile on Atsumu’s face was an apology for not continuing his sentence.

“If I were to be honest, I wouldn’t have an answer until after those 10 years, ‘Tsumu.” Kita replied, entering the apartment complex and walking to the elevator. He had always been a realist, preferring to take facts and garnering all the possible outcomes of those facts. 

“But if I would allow myself to wish on uncertain things, I would wish for us to be.”

The response brought a small smile on Atsumu’s face, only to be multiplied as he turned his head to see Kita offering a smile of his own. It was just a small smile, even smaller than his own, but the emotion behind Kita’s eyes and the words that he had uttered was enough for the idol to feel the rush of his own feelings —spiraling down his soul and into his heart, waiting for him to let them burst through his chest. The sense of warmth that only Kita could emit was indeed something that Atsumu treasured, but it was never rare to those who knew Kita, —for Kita was always a caring person, a person whose words were rare but held deep wisdom beyond his years. 

Kita Shinsuke was reserved, silent and a man of a few words, but he was never cold, not even on days when he should’ve been.

As the elevators dinged at their floor, they shuffled out of the tight room that was now too hot for Atsumu and his reddening cheeks. They continued walking, their shoulders bumping into each other while Atsumu’s hand brushed against Kita’s own. Gentle caresses and lingering glances were exchanged while they walked in silence through the long hallways of the building.

Atsumu turns to the window to catch another glimpse of the twinkling orbs of fire in the sky — which despite the height of the floor, was still not bright enough like the ones back in Hyogo. 

“Do you regret it?” Atsumu asked Kita, his eyes never straying from the window. He can feel the stare that Kita is surely giving him at the back of his head, burning through him as if allowing Kita to burn through his skin and skull to unlock what was inside his mind. He let out a shiver at that thought, the whole prospect of laying his thoughts bare and vulnerable to anyone was something he never tried with anyone — but the thought of doing just that to Kita felt empowering, and just so right. 

Atsumu continues, “Leaving your hometown in Hyogo to venture into the training life at such a young age when you could’ve been enjoying the bright night sky back then?”

As soon as that question left his mouth, the silence became deafening, ringing in Atsumu’s ears while Kita stopped on his track. Atsumu’s eyes never strayed from the window, too afraid that he had stepped at an invisible line that no one had dared to. Despite the foundation of their friendship, there are bound to have some boundaries, and Atsumu was known to neglect them from time to time. Was this one of the moments?

Feeling the silent tic of the clock’s hand, his mouth opened to apologize but was silenced when Kita’s voice broke through. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t regret it once in my life, because I did. Almost packed up my bag and left to go back to the time when the cityscape wasn’t home and the stars shined brighter at one point.”

Atsumu finally turns to Kita, who had also opted to stare at the twinkling lights from the window. The look of longing wasn’t exactly clear in both his expression and eyes, but Atsumu has known Kita long enough to know that the older feels a sense of yearning for a childhood that he never had.

Curiosity was something that Atsumu was known to have, even back when he was in the early stages of youth. He was the one asking questions about anything and everything, always trailing behind his parents while his eyes widened with child-like wonder. “What stopped you, then?” 

“I found a star that shines brighter than those in Hyogo.” Kita turns to Atsumu, an emotion swirling beneath his irises and for the first time, Atsumu cannot decipher them. “So bright that it even puts the sun and moon to shame.”

Something in Kita’s voice sounded foreign to Atsumu’s ears, like it was the first time he heard the producer say something so raw—so vulnerable. Something child-like yet so mature, a paradox that the world was known to have. But that shouldn’t be the case— Kita Shinsuke bleeds his feelings through the power of music, through the words written with paper and ink; with beats that harmoniously mashed together to form some sort of symphony. Atsumu felt these raw feelings when he heard it while dancing, hoping that his talent could convey the emotions behind these words, this beat, this masterpiece.

So why was it like it was Atsumu’s first time hearing Kita voice out his emotions when he had years and years of dancing, practicing and even singing his songs?

And why was Kita looking at him like that? Something indiscernible and intense, with the force that makes Atsumu jump into the rabbit hole and let himself freefall into the depths of the unknown entity, the guarded part of Kita Shinsuke.

“What is it?” Atsumu breathes, inhaling air that was snatched from his lungs the moment his golden eyes lock in with Kita’s own amber ones. His throat felt the aftermath of hands clawing his skin, despite the fact that none of their hands was remotely close to it. How could such a gaze that holds so much emotion? Too much that it also had impacted an outsider to lose his breath and mind just by the glimpse of it.

Kita chuckled, shaking his head before turning to the window and looking at the cityscape below them. "Not really the right question to ask me, ‘Tsumu. It’s more of a who than a what. " He smiled ominously before walking in the direction of their apartment. "And frankly, given your reputation for ruining your comeback, I have no intention of telling you just yet ."

The idol couldn’t help but chuckle at the teasing banter that left the producer’s mouth, his feet matching the pace as he settled beside Kita once more. Atsumu rolled his eyes as he shifted the backpack on his shoulders, bumping it into Kita’s before teasing him back. “Don’t tell me that star is Semi-san~”

”I know that you all joke about us ‘Siamese cousins’ being like the glowing balls in the sky, with Kou-chan being the sun, me being the moon and Ei-chan being the stars. And heaven knows how it fits us in some ways. But no, it’s not Ei-chan. He’s not my star whose light cannot be paralleled by any of the glowing orbs of light in the sky.”

They both laughed as they stopped by Kita’s apartment door, with Atsumu covering his mouth so as to not wake the other residents up with his laughter. Letting the few minutes of youthful bliss where they neither had no cameras rolling around them nor managers breathing down their necks as they work, they slowly calmed down until the sounds of their laughter faded into the night.

“Go to your apartment and sleep, ‘Tsumu.” Kita said, lightly pushing Atsumu towards his own apartment a few doors down. Atsumu knows that Kita wouldn’t step inside his own apartment if Atsumu was still outside, preferring to wait until Atsumu had unlocked his door before unlocking his own. A habit that Atsumu tried to remove from him, but has now accepted as one of the things he can’t change. 

“I’m going, I’m going.” He chuckled, letting his feet guide him until the door to his apartment is now in front of him. Atsumu took out his keys and slid them into the lock, turning it until he heard the familiar click. Before opening the door, he turns to Kita, who was also unlocking his door. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you found that person Kita-san. He’s truly lucky to be your star.”

Kita froze, his hand hovering on the doorknob, as if debating what he should do. At least, that’s what Atsumu could see from where he was at, as Kita had bit his lower lip while his eyebrow furrowed in confusion. As he opened his door, what he heard from the older male made him freeze, his eyes snapping towards Kita, only to see him entering his apartment and locking it from the inside. 

His heart was pounding like a drum banging in front of his ears, his chest clenching so fondly. The butterflies in his stomach rumbling so furiously and the ringing of the snowy hair with ink-dipped tips male’s soothing voice still echoing in his ears.

“Yeah, you sure are. Sleep well, ‘Tsumu.”

All the negative thoughts that he was thinking before, the doubts, the insecurities, the fear, all vanished the moment he heard Kita say those words. Atsumu wanted to run, open Kita’s door, and have him repeat those words over and over again, hoping that by that time, his mind would finally make sense of all the moments they shared together over the last few years.

But the growing silence of the morning greeted him and exhaustion made itself known with how sore and tired his body feels. Taking one last glance where the ashen haired male stood a while ago, Atsumu opened his door and slipped inside. His body seemed to be in autopilot as Atsumu never registered removing his shoes or forgoing his backpack. Only the feel of the soft mattress and the pressing of his clothes registered, his mind slightly waking up from a daze as he stared at the unbothered ceiling above him.

Does that mean— But Kita-san never— Then again, maybe he did— Surely, I’m not that oblivious, right?

Thoughts and questions flooded Atsumu’s mind; gone were the depreciating ones that plagued the deepest corners of his brain as he lay awake in bed in the dead of the night. This time around, these thoughts can only be answered by a certain producer with snowy hair with charcoal tips and soft eyes, who has an obsession with rice and strawberries, and the habit of spending all of his time locked up in his studio to produce another groundbreaking record that would surely make the music industry bend to his will.

The stillness of the night never felt so warm for the blond, never felt so cozy. Atsumu always dreaded sleeping in his apartment, missing the confinements of his family house in Hyogo with his dad cooking in the kitchen while his mom chattering in the countertop while she worked. Despite living in Tokyo for years, he never quite felt that Tokyo was where he would stay, among the bustling crowds and the blinding lights. A city that rivals New York for the title of "The City That Never Sleeps," with its wondrous lights and shining buildings. 

Miya Atsumu never felt like he belonged to the city, but  in some twisted way, fate decided for him to collide with someone who’s familiar,  someone who closely resembles home.

Who knew home was not the two-story house built with wooden furnishing and marble tabletops , but instead, was silver hair with blackened tips with golden eyes that sparkles in the golden hour light and lips churning up into a smile that rivals all the sun, moon and stars combined?

Shaking his head, Atsumu turns around to take his pillow into his arms before smashing his face in it. How could I think that when Kita-san said he found the brightest star, he meant me? Not when he smiles like that. A thought passed through his head, the depreciating voice booming while he pressed his face even deeper into the pillow.

And before his thoughts could venture into a downward spiral, leading to a mess of feelings of disappointment and stupidity, Atsumu heard the familiar ping from his pocket. His hand automatically reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone as he turned around to check what it was. The light that flashed before his eyes blinded him, causing him to squint as he saw the white sign of the time reading 4:23 am. He typed his password, only to be greeted by a message that caused Atsumu’s stomach to catapult into a rush of emotions.

자기야 ♡
4:22 am

Goodnight, ‘Tsumu.

Ignoring the fluttering of his heart at the Korean name Suna had replaced in Kita’s contact info due to a dare (and he kept it just because!), Atsumu smiled at the thought of Kita bundled up into his sleepwear (that he changed into) while typing this message. His cheeks warmed at the prospect of Kita always ending his day with a simple goodnight text to him, whether he was awake to receive it or not. Atsumu wasted no time to type out a response.

Achumu Miyuuh
4:22 am
Gnight, Shin! Sleep well~

Atsumu laid the phone on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling, debating whether he should ask now or later (or you know, never ask and live peacefully with the what ifs and what could’ve beens). Taking a deep breath, he gathered up the courage to send another text.

Achumu Miyuuh

4:25 am
Hey, Shin?

It didn’t take long for Kita to reply.

자기야 ♡
4:26 am
What is it, ‘Tsumu?

Achumu Miyuuh
4:26 am
Is it me?

He stared at the screen, watching as the three dots appeared and disappeared from the screen, as if Kita was also debating if he should answer or not. The whole thing was edging the blond idol in between being anxious of the outcome or simply dreading it. It seems like hours had passed, when in reality it was only five minutes, when Kita finally replied.

자기야 ♡

4:31 am
I dunno, is it?

As he saw the reply, Atsumu already had one in mind. Typing out the message, he didn’t wait for another minute to send it.

Achumu Miyuuh

4:31 am

I hope it is.

Seconds seemed like minutes, as Atsumu bit his lips and stared at the frozen screen in his hand; nothing had changed. No new reply, no three dots. Could Kita have fallen asleep? It couldn’t be, Atsumu made sure to reply as fast as humanly possible. But then again, it was so early in the morning and both of them were fighting exhaustion and fatigue to text each other.

자기야 ♡
4:37 am
Let’s talk tomorrow, my eyes are dropping now

Achumu Miyuuh
4:38 am
The usual place?

자기야 ♡
4:39 am
The usual place.

At the last message, Atsumu locked his phone as a fond grin made its way into his lips — placing the phone on the bedside table. He can’t seem to wipe off the beaming smile on his lips as Kita neither confirmed nor denied the allegation, though it was heavily hinted that it was the former of the two. Taking one pillow, Atsumu hugged it, pretending it was the producer in his arms instead, as he drifted off into sleep.

And who knows? Maybe he dreamt of the small, homey, and cozy ramen shop owned by an elderly couple, who had seen the boys grow into men right before their eyes. The couple had joyful smiles on their faces as they eyed Atsumu and Kita’s intertwined hands on the table, with the taller of the two silently handing out a 2,000 yen bill and a kiss on the forehead to the other.

And maybe the next day, it would become a dream come true for these two. 

This feels so right
Everything is good when just you are here

- Miya Atsumu, in his debut song ''Good To Me'