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It’s quiet under the shade. Few students mill around outside but most of Karasuno High’s student body enjoy their lunches indoors, avoiding the sunshine in favor of friends and air conditioning.
Daichi sits under the cover of a cherry blossom tree, branches expanding far and wide overhead. A cool breeze fans his face, a welcoming change to the warm weather. His lunch sits in front of him, unwrapped and untouched. His appetite is there, stirring in the depths of his stomach, a steady rumble in his gut. But nagging first-year jitters keep him from digging into the bento box his mother so-lovingly packed for him.
High school shouldn’t be any different from middle school, he chides to himself, staring woefully at the food that calls his name. Sure, there’s the older students to worry about. And a new homework load to take home every day. And making new friends after saying goodbye to all his old ones from middle school. And the possibility of not making the team this year, which would be a major disappointment, seeing that he’s attending Karasuno for its volleyball club and all. And—
Stop. Daichi forces his anxious-running brain to brake and see the bigger picture. It’s only his first week here. There’s plenty of time to adjust to high school life. It isn’t all going to go to shit in the span of a day.
At least, he hopes not.
“Hey! This seat taken?” The question stirs Daichi from his thoughts, blinking away white spots from dazed eyes as he lifts his head to the one who spoke.
The sun is beaming above, creating a backdrop of blinding light against a kid who’s grinning just as brightly. An angel, he thinks absently, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the overwhelming vision.
“Uhm, you okay?” Daichi forces himself to open his eyes again, squinting up only to find the boy right in his face, a confused pout highlighting his features. He notes the silver hair and a small mole under his left eye that disappears a little when he smiles again. Daichi notices these things and instinctively jerks away at how close in proximity they are, sputtering something super-intelligent as the boy leans back, grinning toothily at him.
“Huh?” It’s not nice to stare, he absently reminds himself as the other boy snickers at his obvious misfortunes.
“I was asking if this seat was taken.” The boy points to the grassy spot next to Daichi, as if it was the last empty chair in the cafeteria, and he’d managed to save the seat specifically for the boy. Which would be kind of weird, since Daichi only met this boy once, during yesterday’s volleyball team tryouts. When his only response is to stare mutely, the boy shrugs and plops down next to him anyway.
“Lovely day today, isn’t it?” He chirps, still wearing a bright smile as he unpacks his lunch — a personalized bento, similar to Daichi’s, but with a little extra flair to it in the form of a cute panda-shaped onigiri — and settles against the trunk as if he was meant to be there all along.
Daichi’s sluggish mind tries to keep up with these turn of events, noting that someone wants to willingly sit with him during lunch and strike up a conversation.
Right. Conversation. Talking. Speaking. Speak. Speak, Daichi, don’t leave him hanging. He racks his brain for conversation topics and a name to put to the smiling face in front of him.
“Ah… Su... Sugawara? Right?” Daichi winces at the word choice but his worries are smoothed over as the boy's eyes light up at the simple recognition, nodding rapidly as he sticks out a hand for Dachi to shake. He obliges, though a bit regrettably, as Sugawara gives a firm but fast handshake, nearly pumping his arm out of its socket. At least, that’s how it feels to Daichi.
“Yeah! Sugawara Koushi, at your service!” Daichi does his best to follow with his own introduction, albeit less enthused, but nonetheless kind. With introductions out of the way, the two boys settle back against the tree, falling into a surprisingly comfortable silence as they munch on their lunches.
“So, do you think you’ll make the team?” Daichi glances up at Sugawara’s question, mouth too full to answer, and he violently chews his food to reply in a timely manner. Sugawara beats him to it. “I think I will. I think you will too. And that other kid that was at tryouts too. Maybe he can sit with us next time!”
Next time? Daichi blinks in surprise, eyes widening as he watches Sugawara babble about something else, waving his utensils in the air. The light reflects off his silver hair whenever he moves and it catches Daichi’s attention every-so-often. Huh. Sugawara thinks that there’s going to be a next time? God, Daichi hopes there will be a next time. This guy is kind of fun to be around.
“This tree can be our hangout spot. It has great shade and the blossoms in full bloom are an extra bonus for us. It’s totally the perfect place,” Sugawara adds, pointing high above their heads, palms reaching up to catch the few petals that flutter to earth from a weak gust of wind.
“Yeah. I’d like that.” Gratitude bubbles in his chest as Sugawara begins a story, pausing repeatedly to swallow his food as he reanimates a fellow student’s misfortune battling against an absolutely cruel vending machine. Daichi only half-listens, nodding at certain cues while he studies Sugawara. The boy is bathed in warmth and gesturing wildly as he speaks, and Daichi can’t help but laugh. Sugawara grins impishly, leaning back to laugh with him, and the child-like sound echoes off the cherry blossom tree’s branches and flowers.
Familiar faces greet him with bright smiles. He’s trudging the rest of the way up to the base of their tree, to their hangout spot. They don’t own the cherry blossom tree, not by any means, but Suga likes to argue that they claimed this tree for themselves and turned it into something special.
“It’s sentimental,” He protests, whenever Daichi or Asahi questions his reasoning. They go along with it because, in some sense, it is sentimental. This tree bloomed with their friendships.
Daichi takes a seat across from Asahi and Suga, setting his lunch aside and placing handwritten class notes on his lap. Flashcards and pencil shavings litter the soft ground in between the three of them. The small stub of Asahi’s pencil brings Dachi up to speed on how their study session is going.
Suga lays on his back, one arm draped over his face to shield his eyes from the sunlight that filters through the greens and pinks of the tree. Every once in a while, he recites something off the flashcards Asahi holds. English, Daichi thinks. They have a test on Thursday, which none are looking forward to.
This extra studying is meant to help them, but Daichi has a feeling none of them are actually learning anything. Not on empty stomachs, at least.
“Let’s take a break,” He suggests five minutes later, after Asahi reports that his pencil is no longer usable. The tiny stub looks pitiful in his large hand and Daichi almost feels bad for it.
“Excellent idea! We were losing more brain cells instead of gaining them,” Suga exclaims, waving the notecards around before tossing them into the air, a light breeze scattering a few of the cards across the yard.
“Suga! We need those!” Sputtering in surprise, Asahi scrambles after the runaway cards, while Suga gathers and cleans up the rest of their study supplies, suppressing his giggles.
“It’s not like those questions were hard anyway,” He calls after him, the edge of his voice coming off smug, but mostly playful.
Daichi watches in mild exasperation as the squabble unfolds, quietly letting Suga take his notebook. He waits another minute before starting to pull out designated lunches. Asahi plods back to their spot, a bit more bedraggled than before, clinging tightly to his notecards. “Of course it’s not hard for you, Suga. Have mercy on those who are still struggling with some of these terms.”
Daichi chuckles and holds out bento boxes to keep the peace, gently shaking them as if they’re treats for his dogs. It’s an odd sentiment for his friends, but he can’t help and think that this description is an accurate representation when Suga all but pounces to snatch his lunch away from Daichi’s hands. Asahi accepts his more gracefully, and the three boys settle into a comfortable silence as they open their bentos to inspect the contents.
“Here.” Suga shoves the blue box back into Daichi’s hands without another word, prying the other lunch from his grip before Daichi can even offer his in return.
Asahi glances between them, down at his own lunch, then back up at his two friends.
“Do you want some of mine?” Daichi jokes, holding out his box towards Asahi, who shakes his head and opens his own lunch to inspect the contents.
“You’re missing out on my mom’s food,” Suga mumbles through a mouthful of rice, cheeks puffing up as he grins cheekily. He’s practically glowing in the daylight. Daichi half-wonders if he’d burn if he tried to touch Suga.
“My mom’s food is just as good.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what all kids say.” And the bickering and jokes continue. Daichi huffs out a laugh. His friends sure are something else.
The rest of lunch is uneventful. Suga recites more note cards. Asahi asks for a new pencil. Daichi wishes for more time.
But English and other classes wait for no one. Asahi leaves first. They bid him goodbye, and Suga lends him a pencil for an extra boost of confidence and luck.
“Man, that was fun!” Suga links his arm with Daichi’s as they walk away from the tree. The sun shines around him once again, too dazzling to stare directly at. Daichi nods absently in agreement, squinting at his friend. He wonders if Suga’s always looked this nice under the shade of the cherry blossom tree.
It’s a fleeting thought, much like Suga’s constant pulling as the bell rings and they hightail it to their next class. Suga’s laugh is bright when they make it to math class with barely five seconds to spare.
Daichi thinks he might go blind because of his best friend’s contagious personality. On some level, that might not be such a bad thing.
Graduation day is bittersweet. People cry. People laugh. There’s hugs, and goodbyes, and see-you-laters. It’s a weird sensation, knowing you won’t ever go to high school again. Daichi’s unsure how to feel about it. Independent? Free? Alone?
It’s unknown territory. What’s after high school for someone like him? Summer. Friends. College. Future careers. Futures in general. Love, maybe. Marriage. Kids. A home. Endless possibilities.
The newly received diploma weighs heavy in his hands. It’s a fresh reminder of what’s just beginning for him.
What is in Daichi’s future?
He finds some of it under the cherry blossom tree, with a boy who’s been there from the start.
“You know, I always said this tree was sentimental.” Suga doesn’t look at him, eyes trained on what’s above. He wears a sad smile, silver hair ruffling in the breeze. “Just never told you guys why. It’s kind of silly, really.”
“What was silly about it?” Suga doesn’t answer, the smile turning bittersweet as he closes his eyes. There’s a quick inhale as he sucks in a breath through his teeth, and Daichi knows right away that whatever he’s about to share is important. The grip on his diploma tightens.
Suga exhales softly, fiddles with his fingers. He still won’t look at Daichi. It worries him, puts him on edge.
“This is the place I made my first friend in high school.”
Daichi blinks. Once. Twice. That’s it? First friend? Sure, it’s sentimental, he supposes, but why did Suga make such a big deal out of saying it?
Suga side-eyes him, the sun bouncing off his irises and turning them honey-gold. Daichi can feel the nervous energy from where he stands.
“That’s funny,” he begins, trying to make sense of the conversation. “This is where I made my first high school friend too. He’s pretty great, actually. Funny, witty, smart. A pain in my ass. The best vice captain a volleyball club captain could ask for.”
Suga snorts, hides his face in his hands, grumbles about how embarrassing his captain is being. Daichi laughs and playfully bumps his shoulder against Suga’s. They smile at each other, look away, clear their throats and fall into silence. Daichi’s voice fails him. He doesn’t want this moment to end. He doesn’t want to let go of Suga just yet. He grasps at slipping straws.
“Uh— Hey, Suga?”
Warm eyes flicker up, squinting in a sweet, more content smile. Suga stands there, silhouetted in the setting sun. Daichi’s heart squeezes deep inside his aching ribcage. An angel, he finally concludes. Everything’s led to this moment, where Suga outshines even the sun, more beautiful than the blossoms that flutter around them, more beautiful than anything precious on this earth.
Daichi feels like shouting this revelation from the very top of the tree branches.
Suga tilts his head to gaze overhead, eyes shining with mirth and a fading hint of bittersweetness.
Daichi stares, entranced.
“Yeah, Daichi?”
He’s tongue-tied. Nothing comes out. Words are lodged in his throat, pressed against his lungs, engraved in his brain but unable to be murmured into the sweet air.
A warm hand intertwines itself with his. It gives a little, hesitant squeeze, and he jerks his head to owlishly blink down at Suga’s gentle hand holding his own. A sign. A small sign that piles into bigger signs, more obvious signs, as everything clicks into place. Suga is grinning at him when he finally looks up, realization dawning.
Oh .
Daichi gives Suga’s hand a tight squeeze, a reassurance in the stillness. Comfort envelopes the two boys. Familiarity. Futures.
The cherry blossom tree stands before them, still as tall and gracious as ever, roots traveling deep and buds blooming wide. It carries a story, carries memories, carries love.
Graduation day comes and goes. Something pleasantly new unfurls beneath the branches and flowers.
