Work Text:
Planet Earth,
5 October 2150 D.C.
As the sun goes down between the mountains - peeking through the garbage piles, rays and beams are steadily making their way up to its bystander, perched on the high hill, waiting for it to pass, wondering if the other fellow feels it too. A realization dawns on him, as he watches intently the last few rays, as he feels them gently peeking on his skin, on his dry-parched lips, on his hair, on his hands. His steady metallic companion emits a flebile noise that gets swept off by the wind. The sand, unapologetically, unmerciful, unrestless, gets in his eyes. A dry tear carves his cheek. He turns around. No one greets him back.
And though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose.
Eleven.
His name is Atsumu Miya. He repeats it, daily. As he slowly but sturdly wakes up, when the first rays of sunshine meet his closed eyelids and he mutters off some stupid blabber about Osamu failing to wake him up.
He repeats it as he closely inspects Wall-E, his robot companion, rusty from the hours spent scrimmaging through trash, weary but still able to power up under the relentless sun.
Given how hot it is, Atsumu figures that summer it's on its way. And boy, would he love to actually know that! But it’s not like he can remember everything from before. He remembers his name though. And that’s something, he muses.
“Wanna go catch some fresh air, Wall-E?”
“Wall-E.” Wall-E answers. Pretty straightforward.
Atsumu supposes it’s the closest version to a yes he will ever get.
When you get so long without human contact of any kind, you definitely start imagining things; especially if you stare long enough at your robotic companion with his sturdy eyes and perplexed expression. As if robots could show expressions or feelings; Atsumu isn't sure about that. He thinks, suppressing a yawn, that Osamu would definitely know that, given how enamored his twin is with robotic stuff anyway. Atsumu, on the other hand, had always been more into the practical aspects of life; growing a garden while their mother supervised? Definitely a hundred times funnier than spending the afternoon deciphering useless strings of code for a new robotic enterprise.
Growing a garden was anyway a thousand times better than listening to their mother blabber about the importance of grammar and studies in general. Who needs any kind of degree when your whole village is about to be exported to a new planet, since the one you’re living on is too far gone?
Osamu is the smart twin anyway, Atsumu always retorted. Osamu's going to be the one who will bring earth back to health; no matter how hard it is. Osamu is the smart twin, anyway.
Wall-E starts squirming; Omi the cockroach, whom Atsumu named after their school teacher, has started to tickle him. It’s their morning routine: meaning that it’s time for their walk. Maybe they’ll find some ivory-coloured substance that can resemble water and they can wash themselves off. The sand has been relentless these past few days, the heat almost unbearable.
It’s a normal, sunny day on Planet Earth. It’s the kind of weather Osamu hates. He likes the coldness of the winter best, when the snowflakes are dancing around you - the both of them running breathless towards the other, never minding the cold. He prefers it over the stickiness of the humid, the scorching sun which goes under your skin.
Up into the hill where the first few rays of sunrise greet them, there is a single signature. It's made with charcoal, pressed ferociously into the rock.
A strange sight, between mountains of litter and abandoned pieces of furnitures. An anomaly - piercing through the faceless scenery.
On the rock, in a shaky handwriting, a few letters only.
As they pass by, Atsumu is hit by a single, piercing thought. His mother, carefully pinpointing their mistakes, explaining the rules for a good speech; the past tense, is the one you use to talk about things that happened in the past.
But Atsumu is always making a big mess out of these things. The things that belong to the past. That’s what his mom used to say.
So he stumbles, because he realizes; he buried him, he had tucked his covers the day before. His twin brother is a thing of the past.
And what about him? Is he a thing of the past too?
A sharp pain heavies on his chest. Before he knows it, Wall-E tugs at his hand and rushes him to move forward.
His name is Atsumu Miya, he remembers. He repeats it. He moves forward.
Ten.
What no one actually tells you when you live in a world that is already doomed, is that things you actually took for granted - or, at least, that your parents regarded as certainties - can become the most unobtainable thing, the object of the most unfulfilling enterprise. That a single cough, a single instance in which the air leaves one's lungs abruptly, can change the course of your entire life.
Take, for example, medicines for your long-sick brother, who is suffering from a severe case of pneumonia, or what resembles one. What can you call it, when you scrabble from tents to tents and find neither medicines or helpers? Pneumonia to the utmost degree? Given the fact that you both live in a world which is so doomed, so full of intoxicating gasses. What does it leave you with, if not a heaviness that sets down on your shoulders, weighing on your entire being.
So Atsumu tucks him in, with the covers up his chin so he can feel less cold - even though it’s hot outside and he hates the heat -; he makes the closest things to a broth he can muster, stealing supplies from abandoned shelters from the closer towns. He stays with him, holding his hands, powering through the endless nights of fear. And he prays, even though he doesn't believe in anything anymore - he never did. He just believes in this earth; that same one who intoxicated his brother's lungs - that makes it impossible to breathe. And he wonders.
He stares at their joint hands, and he reminisces their adventures together, the new ones to come. And he wonders.
Nine.
Wall-E' sounds are always the strangest ones. Once, is the screeching of its long-worn tires, fighting the sand. Another time, it’s his giggle, squirming from the cockroach (Wall-E has always been ticklish and boy, they would take advantage of that). His robot companion, which both him and Osamu were gifted to in what feels like another lifetime altogether, is actually a funny companion. His robot companion is something Atsumu has been referring to, more and more now, as a someone. As a friend, too. Of course, Atsumu talks to him; it started when he couldn’t find any medicine left for Osamu and he was only getting worse, heavy and pained breaths fighting against one another, and Atsumu's mind going perilously haywire as he realized. Back when he couldn’t find a single reason to justify what he let happen. Wall-E, in all of his incomprehensible way of speaking, is a good confidante.
Atsumu is an older brother, even if it’s only for eleven minutes. But still, eleven minutes are very important.
It’s the minutes Atsumu counted down when he was watching him suffer, after a violent cough that scraped the air from his lungs. He was suffering, and Atsumu could only stay there - totally helpless. So he counted them down, one by one. Locking his eyes into his, trying to make sense of it. When they both had a fever and used to wake up in the middle of the night, dragging their feet up to their mother's bed - together because they did everything together -, and their mother, silent and apprehensive, saying that if they were feeling anxious, they could count down the minutes together. Her hands on their foreheads, tucking them both in and sitting at the edge of the bed so they could be more comfortable. Counting sixty seconds, so they could sum up to a minute. Their labored breathing coming to a less erratic pace, their mother smiling - gesturing to scoot closer. They never made it to sixty, always fell asleep and woke up in a daze, the day after. Their mother' smile, the faint light of the moon.
It’s the minutes he had counted down when the last ship was leaving the ground, and he was still very sure of his decision. When he had turned, from his carefully-picked hiding place, and had known - before even turning - that Osamu had stayed behind. They had simply looked at each other, preparing themselves for everything that was about to come. Together, because they did everything together.
Eleven minutes are very important.
“Wall-E. Can you count down to eleven?”
“Wall-E” Wall-E answers. But he also tries to nod, or so Atsumu thinks. So they start counting together, Omi the cockroach leading the way.
They are preparing for their usual enterprise today. Finding some shelter from the scorching heat, trying out new zones of the land and seeing if something has grown in the spots they already tried out. The thing is, water is something that is not exactly easy to come by when planet earth is doomed. So, Atsumu has decided to test the soil with other kinds of methods, and if some part of land particularly sticks out, he's going to use a little bit of water from his storage. He can’t risk much; it’s not an indefinite supply. But he has to: it’s the only way to put his guilt at bay. If he can find even a remote piece of ground in which soil can be cultivated, vegetables can grow, and a garden can flourish, well, maybe, maybe, everything is going to be worth it.
Right?
His name is Atsumu Miya and he is an older brother. He is on a mission: along with his companions, he’s going to find some place on planet earth where he can grow vegetables. And when he does that, that feeling that weighs down his chest so achingly is going to be gone. He is sure of it. His name is Atsumu Miya. He repeats it daily, otherwise he will forget. But he doesn’t even know what day it is: Osamu told him to keep notice and keep counting, but he quickly forgot. He has Osamu so why bother. Why bother? As long as Osamu’s around, he doesn’t need to keep count.
So he repeats his name everyday; but he no longer remembers which day it is.
Eight.
Deep down, he knows it’s a dream. He is actually aware of it because it’s a scene from his past, and he has been seeing it non-stop for what feels like eternity now.
They’re in their kitchen and their mother is preparing a batch of onigiri. She turns around, waves back at him, showing the ones with the extra tuna. And he knows that if he were to open the door, or climb on the window, or shout his lungs out, nothing would happen. He has tried that many times over. So he stays outside, watching the scene unfold - waiting for the worst part to come. And even if he knows what’s to come by heart, the pain never fades. Not by one bit. So he stays there, staring at a younger version of himself - like a million times before.
He watches as Osamu races him to the kitchen, grabbing as many onigiri as possible, stuffing his face so Atsumu can’t have the ones he wants - but he’ll get them, ‘cause Osamu is just pretending to pick up the ones with the extra tuna. They bicker about it, throw a few punches. Then Osamu looks at the window, then outside the window, and Atsumu is convinced that he is staring directly into his soul. And his heart breaks all over again. And it aches. God, how it aches. He just wishes it would stop. And it breaks, again and again. Before he knows it, he’s yelling unintelligibly, to the point Wall-E starts blabbering “Wall-Es” hysterically.
He wakes up in a pool of sweat, and he realizes that he actually fell asleep in a shelter near the area they started exploring a few weeks ago. And today’s expedition had gone well; they will need to come back and actually water the soil, hoping for the faint chance that it can actually grow some vegetables.
But still, the dream is painfully vivid behind his eyelids, at the back of his skull. Endlessly repeating itself, again and again.
He starts counting down to eleven; eleven - it’s Osamu's face now, ten - it’s the night he decided, and Osamu promptly followed, nine - it’s the moment he realized, eight - his face, disfigured with pain, air leaving his lungs and never coming back-
He snaps from that train of thoughts only by slapping his face too.
“Wall-E. Count with me now, would you?” And he asks so frantically, he is sure even Wall-E can perceive the fear behind its words.
“Wow. So you really talk to the little guy, huh?”
Seven.
So, his name is Atsumu Miya. He knows this. He is just trying to recover from a nightmare, by counting down to eleven. He knows this. What exactly is he unsure about is where the voice he just heard is coming from. And why is there a guy at the door of his shelter now? Is he seeing things? Atsumu’s face must definitely betray all of his bewilderment because the stranger starts laughing. And his laugh… God, his laugh is the most natural thing Atsumu has heard in a very long time. It feels like spring, and it’s sunny as much as the stranger’s demeanor is. His hair is the color of the sunset, Atsumu’s mind provides. And his face is handsome as well, though he doesn’t exactly see him that clearly at the moment. Must be all the light that gets caught in the cabin, and the sunset which bleeds into his hair.
Atsumu is too stunned to even speak. He mutters a “who are you” under his breath, but he is sure the guy couldn’t have possibly heard him. The stranger must sense it though, because he quickly provides an opening.
“My name’s Hinata Shouyou, by the way. And you I-only-talk-to-my-robot-type are?”
His gaze is piercing, in a way. Atsumu feels his eyes digging a hole into his soul. It has been such a long time since he spoke with a human. Probably, since that day.
“Name’s Atsumu Miya. But call me Atsumu, they all do that anyway so they can recognize-” He stops right there. The stranger - Shouyou-kun, actually - doesn’t seem to mind it. “I mean… Just call me Atsumu, anyway. It’s fine by me.”
“Okay Atsumu-san! There’s a little bit of water beside you.” Atsumu turns and it’s actually there. How considerate.
“Thanks.” Water feels reinvigorating. Suddenly, the few strands of the dream start fading away. He feels his head is clearer now. He turns again to the guy, but he seems to be in a hurry.
“I need to go now! But I’ll be back. See you around, Atsumu-san!”
See you around? Is this another one of his dreams? But Shouyou-kun seemed very real to him. And that laugh. He couldn’t forget that sound even if he tried. It was pristine. Like a river, flooding with water. Gentle, like his mother’s. Funny, like Osamu when he finally gets some codes right and starts laughing like a crazy maniac.
Atsumu takes a scan at his surroundings, and even if he doesn’t exactly remember how and when he fell asleep, he does remember that today’s expedition was a very good one, up to the point where they had decided to come back the day after to try with water. They had decided as in Atsumu decided, Wall-E just Wall-ed and Omi the cockroach just looked at them with the most singular bored expression his own kind can muster.
If they’re lucky, it’s really the breakthrough they needed.
Atsumu feels the smile rapidly creeping up on his face, lifting the corners of his lips up. But he can’t help it. He has always had a thing for sunny boys and bubbly laughters.
Six.
When they come back later that evening, Shouyou is already there. He looks more vivid now, like in the way the moon glides him with its light and contrasts with his own, natural one. He is sporting an easy going smile, a hat perched perilously on top of his head. He seems relaxed. When they reach his side of the hill, where their attempt at a garden stands in front of them, he seems proud too.
When he speaks, Atsumu feels like he is walking on cloud nine.
“So… It’s a garden, huh? That’s what you’re trying to make?” His questions are inquisitive, but gentle. He seems genuinely interested in the process.
So while he busies himself with the soil and the water, carefully calculating how much to use for every single square, he starts telling Shouyou all about it.
“Yeah, it is. Or it should be one, anyway. Even when they deemed earth uninhabitable, I just thought that they gave up on her too fast. You know what I mean?” He nods, gesturing for him to continue.
“So yeah, it’s a garden. But it’s much more than that. This is living proof that the earth can still make things grow.” He trails off as he inspects a very much dying leaf that it’s turning a strange shade of yellow. “Hopefully, anyway.”
Shouyou just laughs at that. That sound has already become Atsumu’s favorite thing in the whole world.
A new routine starts taking shape; he wakes up, talks to Wall-E, scratch a little of its rust off and brings Omi the cockroach with him, and then starts making its way up to Shouyou’s mountain - he started calling it that way but Wall-E doesn’t seem to mind so why change it -; he prepares his things for the day and Shouyou just stays there.
He seems content, although pensive. His clothes don’t change that much, but Atsumu realizes that his own clothes haven't really changed at all in weeks, so he is not in any place to judge. But he wonders what exactly Shouyou does, or at least did, before meeting up with him. Hyogo’s little village was the last one to ship to the moon, and he was sure he and Osamu were the only humans around, or at least in Japan.
One night, when the first green leaves are actually showing up into the garden, and the flavors of a good soil permeate the air, he finds the courage to ask.
Five.
“So, what do you wanna ask me, Atsumu-san?”
If it weren’t for the fact they are probably the only ones around the whole earth and they are desperately trying to make something edible grow from the ground, he would definitely find it odd. Like, other than being so incredibly good-looking (yes, he noticed, and it’s not like you stop noticing stuff like that if you’re living during the end of the world), but he’s also funny, witty, laughs at his jokes - Osamu never actually laughs at his jokes, he makes fun of him and that’s it -, and he can read minds too now?
The thing is, Atsumu had been meaning to ask. And he tried a couple of times, he really did. But then, the soil started responding well, and they - namely, Wall-E - dug out some seems and they really started the preparations for the garden. So he got swept up by the moment! No one can blame him.
Also, Atsumu is sixteen years old. They celebrated their birthday together, it was a week before the departure of the ship which would have taken the Hyogo village on the moon. So who can blame him if he wants to spend some more time with Shouyou-kun, even if it’s at the expense of his own curiosity? Yeah, Shouyou-kun seems a little off sometimes. Like his sunny and joyous self gets swept away and he gets quieter and quieter as the minutes go by. But then he gets funny again! So, no one can blame him. Atsumu is having the time of his life. Sure, the earth is still doomed and they are all busting their asses off - do cockroaches have asses anyway? - only to prove with empirical evidence that the earth is still livable. But still, he couldn’t ask for more.
“Atsumu-san?”
He turns and he sees Shouyou’s hand waving at him. Right, he had just asked him a question, after all.
“Is everything okay?” Not only is he gorgeous, but he is also gentle.
“Nothing on my mind, Shouyou-kun. Just wondering where you came up from, you know?”
Well, Atsumu wasn’t exactly planning on saying it out loud. “You know, sometimes… it seems like you’re in your own world. Is something bothering you?”
That was a nice save ‘Tsumu.
“’Samu, shut up now. Like you could do any better.” He trails off, and not long after he realizes the mistake he just made.
Shouyou just turns his head towards him, looking at him funny.
“So…” Shouyou starts, albeit tentatively. “Osamu? You mutter his name a lot while you’re working.”
“Osamu is my twin brother.” Atsumu quietly adds. He feels Shouyou’s gaze directly into his skull. Like if eyes had powers, they could pierce through him. He starts picking at some green leaves, trying to buy some time. Soon enough, Shouyou speaks again.
“And where is he now?”
And the thing is, Shouyou just asks. Tentatively. Gently. Every other adverb you can think of, that encompasses the care in which Shouyou just asks.
“He’s gone.”
It’s the first time Atsumu said it out loud. When he feels the darkness descending upon him, clouding his senses, he is not surprised. Last thing he remembers, before drifting to oblivion, is Shouyou’s smile, and the faint touch of his hands on his forehead.
Four.
Shouyou looks tense. The fact that Atsumu’s mind provides this incredible piece of evidence is proof enough of his well-being. He tries to get up, but a firm head shake makes him stall.
“No way. First, you drink this. Then, we can talk.” There's a little glass of water on the bedside table, near its little bed. How funny it is that this is where they first met.
“Isn’t it strange that we are back here? Me on the bed and you as my knight in the shiny armor?” He tries to wink, but Shouyou’s expressionless face doesn’t betray anything.
“Not so shiny, but it’s not like we can fight the sand, right?” Atsumu’s voice sounds strained to his own ears too.
Shouyou just looks at him, unnaturally quiet. “Drink”, he continues, “then we can watch the moon together.” And he just stands up and goes outside.
Atsumu feels like some monumental part of the equation is missing.
Soon enough, Wall-E and Omi are at its side, Wall-e screeching fantastically loud, and Omi just passively looking at him.
“Did you miss me, Wall-E? I was just gone for a couple of hours.” He moves to clean off its rust, a motion so automatic his hand does it by muscle memory only. If he notices that Wall-E doesn’t need any washing up, because he has just done it, he doesn’t think further on it. “You must have asked Shouyou to clean you, right? Good boy.” Wall-E just Wall-es. Omi the cockroach just stands there, watching them with its usual aura of superiority.
When he feels he has regained enough strength to stay up, he moves towards the end of the shelter. It’s deep into the night, the moon shines brightly, casting its light on Shouyou-kun.
The bright-orange hair now is less shiny, but no more enticing. The freckles, ever-so-evident, are exactly where Atsumu is used to stare at them. And Shouyou is there to greet him, a quiet smile on his juvenile face.
“My knight in the shiny armor, uh?” He moves to sit close to him, sharing the blanket he brought from inside. Shouyou just scoots closer. Their elbows are touching. Atsumu pretends not to notice, so his ears don’t get as red as Shouyou’s hair - they probably already did.
“How did you find me, that day? Was it Wall-E? He can be very loud when he wants to.” Atsumu turns, and Shouyou’s eyes are on him, ever-so-magnetic.
When he answers though, his eyes get a little bit sadder. “I didn’t find you, Atsumu-san.”
“You did! You saved me that day.” Atsumu still doesn’t grasp what is going on. And why Shouyou seems so off.
“You asked me before. Where do I come from.” Shouyou’s hands take his, covering them with his own. “The thing is… I don’t know. Not where I come from, because I remember bits from my life from before. But, where did I come up from?” He turns slightly, still grasping his hands. “Well, Atsumu-san… I think you know that already.”
He smiles and then turns his head on the moon. The moon stares back at them. Atsumu stares at their joined hands.
“You disappeared right after I was feeling better. But then you appeared, again and again, just when-”
“Yeah” Shouyou interrupts him, hooking his eyes on him, a faint smile on his face. “Just when you needed me.”
“Do you- like… Are you even real?”
It can’t be, Atsumu is sure. He remembers Shouyou’s laughter, his hands, tightly wrapped around his, his face, his eyes, his hair, the color of the setting sunset-
Before he knows it, he’s running like his life depends on it, distancing himself from Shouyou and Wall-E and Omi and everything that constitutes that garden and his dream.
They were getting so close! His feet are stomping one into the other.
They were gonna get vegetables! His lungs feel on fire.
It was gonna be fine! He gasps for air, looking for solace, consolation.
It was gonna be worth it! The air leaving his lungs - the life leaving his face.
This can’t be happening! His face - his twin's face, his own face - disfigured by pain.
When he looks again, he finds himself at the hill where he buried his brother. Trying to catch up with his breath, he stops, touching the grave, the signature he made with his own hands. How could he have forgotten?
Together, because they do everything together.
Minutes pass, and when Atsumu turns his head around, he is not even surprised to find Shouyou there. When he is about to speak, Shouyou stops him in his tracks.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you. And it’s not like I wasn’t frightened when I realized.” He scratches his head, shyly. He extends his hand, tentatively. Atsumu just grabs it, like it’s muscle memory. He can feel it. Bit by bit, the anger melts away.
“So…” he continues, gesturing for the blanket Atsumu brought with him in his silly attempt at running away. “As I was saying. I think that yes, I am real. But also, not at all.”
“Do you realize that what you’re saying doesn't exactly make sense?” He can’t control the angriness in his voice, the fear that latches its sentences together.
“You’re the one to talk? You just stormed off!”
“I was shocked, okay! You would be shocked too if you realized that the guy you’ve been spending time with it’s like-like- a ghost, or something!” Atsumu stutters. “Are you a ghost?”
“I don’t know, okay?! Do you think that if you ask something like that, one is just gonna say yes and that’s it? How am I supposed to know?!” Shouyou’s face gets so hot when he’s angry that Atsumu can’t help but smile at him.
And sooner rather than later, they find themselves laughing it off, poking at each other with all of their strength.
“You said you’re real, but at the same time, not at all?”
“Right, I mean… I have memories, you know? But the thing is, I didn’t remember earth to be like…” he gestures to the mountains of litter surrounding them. “like this.” He looks resigned.
“So doomed.”
“Yeah.”
They stay quiet for a bit, the quiet sounds of the night as their only companion.
“It looks to me that you’re a ghost.”
“Aren’t they supposed to be linked to a place, or whatever? I don’t even know where we are!”
“We’re in Hyogo.”
“Hyogo? I was from Miyagi!”
“So you’re a ghost and you’re probably bad at directions.”
“Don’t you understand?!” At that, Shouyou grabs him by the shoulders. “I only exist-” and he scrolls him, “when you need me.” He looks resigned. “The first time I appeared- the first thing I remember from here… is the one after your nightmare.”
“Seems like we’re linked by some strange fate thing and all.”
Shouyou’s face is now the same color as his hair. But he smiles.
They stay like this. Elbows barely touching. And if they both turn as red as a tomato, the light of the moon illuminating only their profiles, no one is there to point it out.
(On the rock, in a shaky handwriting, one name, only. Osamu Miya.)
Three.
A new routine starts taking place. Namely, they just acknowledge that Shouyou is a ghost, and talk about it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Shouyou insists on telling him that he is not a ghost, but Atsumu doesn’t mind him one bit. Better to think ghosts exist - and I mean, the earth is doomed so why would it be that strange - than to think that Shouyou is some high-crafted metaphor created by his rotten mind.
They exchange questions, trying to determine when Shouyou lived, and how he died. He says he remembers dying, though it was not at an early age - I had a great life, I’m sure of it! -, he speaks fondly of Natsu, his sister, and how they played together at…
“What’s the name?”
“Volleyball, Atsumu-san! It’s volleyball.” And then he gestures, like the crazy ghost he is - or presence or whatever - and he talks about it all, about the time the earth was livable although full of smog, when plastic was ever-present but the danger was overlooked, when he was playing the sport he loved for a living. He has all kinds of stories, Shouyou-kun, and Atsumu is just happy to listen to him talking.
Sometimes, when they tend to the garden all day, Omi silently judging, Wall-E helping with anything its long paws can better reach and grab, it feels like they had been doing that for a very long time.
“He looks like someone I used to know.”
“Who, Wall-E?” At that, Wall-E spikes his head up high, fully intent on listening.
“No! Omi the cockroach!” Wall-E’s head turns down immediately. Melodramatic robot.
“Like right now, he is just silently assessing the situation… He reminds me of a teammate. He had such a wicked spike! And he was so silent. But deep down, you could tell he cared about us.”
“Spikes… so… a wing spiker?”
“Yes, you’re getting to it! I don’t remember his name though…” And he looks so sad, Atsumu has to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks and hold him close.
“It’s fine, Shouyou-kun… tell me more about that feint thing you mentioned.”
And so they go. They water the soil, surrounded by mountains and mountains of litter. They guard their creations, Wall-e providing the music and Omi providing the judging looks. And they laugh, they talk, reminiscing about the bits of Shouoyou’s past he can still make out, and Atsumu’s past too. And they go on.
A few weeks go by, and a few vegetables start sprouting out of the ground.
Two.
“Shouyou-kun.”
“What?”
“Would you have done it? If you were from this era, I mean.” It’s a quiet night, and the tiredness of the day makes way for the most burning questions, the one you only ask when it's pitch-black outside.
“…left it all behind, just went on a ship and moved on to the next thing - the moon, for example?”
Atsumu's painfully aware that his voice betrays every bit of the anguish he feels. Shouyou must definitely sense it, since he takes his time to answer.
“I mean… I don’t know? It feels like the earth actually needed someone to believe in her, you know what I mean?” He gestures at the vegetables they just dug out from the ground. “And, when I was young, well, no one believed in me and in my dream. Until someone did.” He gets lost in his thoughts for a moment, as if reminiscing about a particular instance in time. “But he didn’t just believe in me. It’s like… he saw me. And I can’t ever forget that feeling. I never will.”
His eyes are teary and glossy, and Atsumu, again, has to resist the urge to wipe the tears from his face, to touch his freckles and count them down, one by one, to hold his face in his hands and forever with him.
“What I mean is-” and Shouyou turns to him, ever-so-slowly. “...is that you’re doing the same, here. You still believe in this planet, in the soil. You believed that this earth could still be a hospitable place, and you just proved it. Isn’t that wonderful? That you never stopped believing in it.”
One.
Hold me close, and hold me fast
They have a celebration!
The joyful occasion is Wall-E digging out the first vegetable, Omi the cockroach inspecting it minutiously, Atsumu and Shouyou just jumping up and down, a mix of disbelief and sheer joy.
They hang the little lights Wall-E had saved for the occasion, one of the first things him and Osamu salvaged from their room, and try their best to enjoy what is actually the fruit of a long-endured labor.
Wall-E is asleep fairly soon, and Omi just runs into the dirt and towards its cockroach family which they are now certain he keeps hidden somewhere safe because he doesn’t want Atsumu to find out.
The crisp air of the night makes a good scenery. If this was a normal life, and not a survival-one lived on a planet on the verge of collapsing, and if Shouyou was just a guy, and not a ghost or whatever it is, this could definitely count as a date. A very good one, indeed. And Atsumu is content with the thought as well. He would have never thought that he would live long enough to have a date with someone as fantastic as Shouyou.
“I’m not a ghost, you know?”
The evening is chilly, and the blanket serves its rightful purpose.
“You’re not a ghost, then.”
It's become a game for them. Every once in a while, they’ll remember it to one another.
“So who are you?” It’s Atsumu’s turn to ask the obvious question. It’s time.
Shouyou avoids his gaze and points his finger far and far away, outstretched into the horizon.
“My name is Shouyou Hinata.” He says, tilting his head, playfulness in his eyes. “I was a volleyball player, once. I had a good life. I had a family, a sister, some great friends, and a boyfriend.” He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“That’s a first. You never mentioned the boyfriend.”
Atsumu stops in his tracks, unsure of what to say next. He can feel something rapidly shifting.
“You remembered something.” It’s not a question, just a statement. Atsumu can read it in his eyes.
“I did.”
“What?”
Their faces now are just a few inches apart. “I can’t tell you”, and Atsumu can feel his breath drawing closer, their foreheads barely touching. Atsumu can count his freckles one by one. It’s eleven of them.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“Atsumu-san.”
“Shouyou-kun.”
“Ask me what I am.”
“I won’t.”
“You will.”
“Nope. Why now?!”
“Because I’m asking you to. We don’t have much time left.”
“What?!”
Atsumu’s bewilderment seeps through his words. What were a few inches separating them, are now a few meters. He starts pacing on the hill. It would be an hilarious sight, if it wasn’t for the fact that time is indeed working against them.
“Where do you think you’re going? Are you leaving me too?!”
The last question is a scream that reverberates through Shouyou’s rib cage.
“It’s not like I know everything. But I just know that you need to say it. So we can all move on.”
“We?”
“We.”
“You say you’re not a ghost, but you have memories from your past.”
“I do.”
“You say you only appear when I need you.”
“I do.”
“Because I can make you appear?” Atsumu points at his heart, then at his head. Shouyou grabs his hand, points his finger at Wall-E, silently witnessing their whole exchange. “Because he can. And he does.”
“So you’re a memory.”
“Probably. Or I’m just a boy, who knows. Does it really matter, ‘Tsumu?” Shouyou’s eyes are such a sweet color. And he’s so close now, he can feel his heartbeat.
“I don’t know what to think anymore.” You never learnt how to think ‘Tsumu, that’s the issue.
“Your head is really a fantastic place, that’s for sure.” Shouyou’ smile is wide and open.
“It is?” Atsumu can feel the warmth, radiating from him.
“It is.”
Shouyou takes his hands into his, bringing them to his lips. “Who cares if this is all a dream. Who cares if we wake up, and remember nothing of it. Who cares if the earth does collapse on itself in the next few months.”
"One day, you’ll remember. I'm sure of it.”
“I will?”
“And we’ll meet again, sooner or later.”
“We will?”
“We will.”
“Wall-E,” Shouyou whispers, “Music.”
Eyes on eyes - locked; hands in hands - slowly.
They are dancing.
If you look close enough, you’ll see a boy, his metallic companion, an unenthusiastic cockroach. You’ll see a botched out garden, dug out to its extremes. You’ll see an earth which is so full of intoxicating gasses to never be breathable; toxic, for every living being. You’ll see a boy; dehydrated, on the verge of collapsing.
But if the boy thinks he is dancing with another boy, let him be. Let him be.
...when you press me to your heart, I’m in a world apart...
Zero.
“Shouyou-kun.”
“I’m here.”
“I think I’m ready.”
“Tell me, then. I’m all ears.”
“I know.”
A pause. Wall-E' screeches stop.
“‘Samu’s death is my fault.”
“You know it’s not.”
“No, listen- it’s my fault because I am his older brother. I was supposed to look after him. But he died. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“You couldn’t have done anything about it.”
“But he stayed here… he stayed on earth, because of me. Because of my dream. And then he didn’t even live long enough to see the results.”
“You know if he was here now, he would tell you to stop sulking like a baby and move on with it.”
“Yes, ‘cause my face looks terrible when I cry.”
“It kinda does.”
“SHOUYOU-KUN!”
“Just kidding.”
“mpfh.”
“‘Tsumu.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not your fault. You have to know that. You did your best, okay?”
“He still died.” It's not your fault.
“But you did your best anyway. And you believed in him. That counts for something.”
“Shouyou-kun.”
“Tell me.”
“Is this really the end?”
“It probably is.”
“Can you stay with me, just a little longer?”
“I’m afraid… I’m afraid I have to go now.”
And Shouyou’s voice is strained, tears clogging up his words.
“This part… this part is the one you do on your own. But I’ll be watching you, okay? And even if you can’t see me, I’ll be here.” And he points at his heart. At his hands. At his mind.
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
🥀
He stares at the moon and the moon stares back. It’s not a moon, it’s a planet. It’s the planet Osamu was supposed to live on. He smiles.
He stares at the moon and the moon stares back. It’s not a moon, it’s a star. It’s the star that maybe Shouyou was destined to inhabit.
A solitary tear carves his way into Atsumu’s face. It reaches his dry-parched lips. It’s salty. Atsumu remembers his mother wrapping his favorite tuna-onigiri around its nori. Her troubled face, realizing that the two of them were going to stay on earth, to give it one last chance. Atsumu remembers: this is what being a human feels like. He had forgotten. He now remembers.
He stares at the moon and the moon stares back. He stares at the immaculate blue-deep sky, which feels impossibly large and so unbelievably wide, and screams all of his frustrations and dreams. He remembers now.
He stares at the moon and the moon stares back: what does he see in it? He sees hope, he sees his brother’s dreams and his own, his mother’s laughter, Shouyou’s sunny smile.
He stares at the moon and the moon stares back. He understands now: he is the last inhabitant of this world. Maybe I did something good, he wonders. Something right.
Maybe, I can meet them all in another version of this life. Maybe, I can run with Osamu with no fear of gasoline and lungs’ infections. Maybe I can be happy. Maybe I can have a dream, again. Maybe I can achieve it. Maybe I can smile, holding Shouyou’s hand under the pouring rain, waiting for a bus to take us home. Maybe, we can spend our lives chasing a volleyball in a stadium, rather than sunlight and good soil for vegetables. Atsumu thinks, maybe.
Drifting off into the unknown, Atsumu thinks he’s happy. A smile on his face and on his face reflected the vague and opaque roundness of the moon.
Beside him, the screeching sound from its robotic companion, keeping him company, for one last time; steadily drifting him off to oblivion. Quietly - at the same time of his heartbeat.
This is the story of the last inhabitant of the planet earth. Of his missing half, of his newfound half. This is the story of a boy who didn’t want to be alone anymore.
This, is the story of a life.
Maybe, Atsumu thinks, my next one can be a happy one. Maybe, he thinks, I can look for Shouyou. So he promises: one day, I’ll be coming for you. Just you wait.
Atsumu Miya’s decease is on a hot and humid day on planet earth. It’s October the fifth, 2150.
He has been the last human registered on earth for a year. When he dies, he does it with a smile.
He stares at the moon and the moon stares back, holding its promise: one day, a new life will come and it will bear you no harm. Just your twin and your family and your dream. And you will find your tangerine-haired boy. And you will love him for a whole lifetime.
And you are never going to be alone. That, is a promise the whole world is willing to fulfill.
And so he goes. And so the earth loses his last, faithful inhabitant.
And so it goes on.
🌹
Planet Earth. 2018 D.C.
First time they met again, after that over-the-top declaration that marked their first game against each other, Shouyou brought along a house-warming gift. A potted plant. He said he had passed outside the shop, took a look inside and decided that the dorm that he had never even seen needed a bit of colour.
Because he is a guy like that; he can convince Atsumu to do anything in the span of a minute. Atsumu thinks that he will always oblige. Shouyou is a guy like that.
So now, weeks after that first meeting, a glorious plant stands in the corner of the apartment. In all of its flourishing beauty and demanding attention - Atsumu tends to her, taking turns into watering her and then just looking at her. The whole team think he’s crazy. That, or him being completely whipped. Whatever. Plant looks admittedly good in the apartment. Atsumu’s still unsure about the name though.
(It brings some energy to the it. And it’s good to take care of her.)
Unsurprisingly, after a little bit of resistance, Shouyou convinced the whole lot of them to submit to the most endearing challenge a man can think of: the Disney-Ghibli movie marathon.
And now, here they are; last men standing against the darkness.
“You really liked it, uh?" Shouyou's voice betrays his ill-concealed amusement. "Don’t even try to deny it, I heard you whimpering during the movie.” It echoes in the apartment.
The weekly movie marathon for team building is the one at which Bokuto starts dozing off approximately during the first half of the movie - too much beer - and Omi shows up only to say that it’s disgusted by something in the apartment. He then proceeds to criticize the movie or start cleaning by himself and then exits before the first movie's credits are rolling, dragging Bokuto behind him. At the end of the night, it’s just Atsumu and Shouyou. Last men standing against movie-marathons that could make even Sakusa cry (if he’d really watch them).
So yeah, Atsumu is teary-eyed. It was a damn beautiful movie, so no one can blame him.
“I am sure you liked the bond between the main character and his brother.”
Atsumu nods, because no way on earth his crush can see his crying face. Osamu says it’s the ugliest thing he has ever witnessed.
“You liked it too, Shouyou-kun.”
“YEAH, of course! Wanna know what I liked the most?”
“Spit it out.”
He goes uncharacteristically quiet then, shifting on his seat. Atsumu can see his hands tugging at the fabric of the blanket, trembling. When he turns, his eyes are glossy, dazed.
“I can’t tell you.”
Is Atsumu imagining things, or is he shifting closer to him? He can hear the blanket' moving, although imperceptibly. One can never know.
“You can’t…?” Atsumu feels like some monumental part of the equation is missing.
When he turns, Shouyou is just too dangerously close at this hour of the night for his mind to properly work. Too close.
“I’m sure you can work it out.”
“Huh? What are you on about?”
“I am sure you can remember.”
Is he drunk too? He never pictured Shouyou as a light-weight, but he supposes that maybe he had a little bit much to drink. Maybe he can offer him a little bit of water to clear his head up. He seems a little bit off.
Speaking of, he should definitely water the plant later on. A little bit of check-up can’t do her wrong.
Shouyou's eyes go uncharacteristically wide. Atsumu stumbles, because he realizes.
Ah.
The moon really casts a serene light on his frame. It seems like only his freckles are visible. Then his jaw, his nose, his eyebrows.
His eyes - so sweet; his hair - so fiery.
“You liked the part about the promise, right?”
Atsumu can’t take his eyes away.
“I knew you would get it.” And at that, Shouyou’ smile gets so unbelievably wide. And serene. “Yes.” He continues, silently asking for permission to scoot closer. His hand on his heart. The room echoes with his heartbeat. It feels like it’s piercing through his rib cage.
“When at the end, you can see that he means it. That whatever happens, he is gonna find him again.”
So close.
“Like the one you made me, so many years ago.”
Too close.
Atsumu is sure his face is the same color as Shouyou's hair. He is glad that at least, the only source of illumination is the faint light of the moon, perched outside of their window like it’s waiting for something.
“Do you think the guy finds him in the end? The ghost, I mean?” He is so close now, he can really count his freckles. It’s eleven of them. He doesn’t know why he knows that.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think he does.”
It’s too late to think for his mind, so Atsumu does what his memory tells him to, what his muscles are well-trained to achieve. So he grabs Shouyou's collar, erasing the distance between them. He put his hand on his cheek, like he had been wanting to do for a whole lifetime. He strokes his cheek, he takes his time. When Shouyou meets his lips halfway, his body complies. Almost like muscle memory.
And so it goes.
Atsumu Miya, starting setter for MSBY Black Jackals; Shouyou Hinata, starting opposite for MSBY Black Jackals.
Eyes on eyes - locked; hands in hands - slowly.
Shouyou can teach him what he learnt in Brazil. They can’t know that already but he will be teaching him so many other things.
And so it goes: in the dim light of their shared apartment, on a wednesday night no different from any other. If you look closely enough, you’ll see a couple squeezing their hearts out. They are dancing.
Captain : Psst - Computer, define "dancing".
Ship's Computer : [WALL-E and EVE are seen outside a window in space, flying around]
Dancing. A series of movements involving two partners, where speed and rhythm match harmoniously with music.