Chapter Text
Yaku blinks at the reflection in front of him that mirrors his own movements.
He tries to smooth out the random curls that poke out of his hair, which ultimately ends up fruitless as always. He doesn’t mind it though, half being too tired to reopen the already packed up hair gel, and the other half is getting his attention caught by the last remaining appliance in the empty bathroom.
Chalking it up to Noya forgetting to pack this up when he finished his shower this morning, he glances at the hair dryer sitting atop the counter. It has run its course throughout the two years, either the paint that had been chipped away by accident or the rigid switch that gets more frustrating each time he tries to use it. But, he is still unsure whether to throw it out or not. The soft surface is still the same when he first used it, which he can’t help but smile at the thought of.
Though he certainly wasn’t back then.
When he first set his eyes on it, the promising yet cheap hair dryer was bought in a rush, along with other sets of household appliances. He took his advice from the senior that once shared the apartment with him, “Buy less, choose well, make it last.”. He always had a way with words, as expected by a linguistics major (maybe he remembered that quote exceptionally well since he is a linguistics major).
Although he was knowledgeable in all different kinds of dialects, he didn’t chat with Yaku that much for the duration of Yaku’s freshman year. But despite having different schedules and different interests, they still respected each other.
When he graduated, the responsibility of this apartment was laid onto Yaku’s shoulders. He spent the first few days reorganizing the place, decorating it to make it slightly less vacant than it was. He was used to the solitude, the empty bed across from his own was a reminder. But once in a while after he came back from the bustling university, he felt asphyxiated by the silence inside.
He bought the hair dryer right after he posted a message on their university forum about finding another roommate who would be comfortable with sharing a room. He diligently replied to each question asked, while also checking to see if anyone is compatible with him and his routine.
One particular user caught his attention amongst the many: Noya Yuu. The name didn’t click with him the first time, rather, it was the description under his profile, “Volleyball enthusiast” it said, along with “travel the world” listed under the interests section. Doing a slight calculation of their ages, he was near certain that this is the same “Noya” in Karasuno.
What an odd twist of fate, he thought, considering the possibility of living with an old friend.
After that, the few messages exchanged turned the possibility into reality. Nishinoya was scheduled to move in a week before the new semester starts. Recognizing each other, they were looking forward to the day, but it didn’t stop the small doubts that grew on the back of Yaku’s mind. As the days narrowed, he calmed himself by telling himself that the Nishinoya he knew was chaotic, but was, and hopefully still is, a reliable person. He quickly double checked his estimated arrival time, and vacuumed the house just a little more thoroughly.
The stash of towel weighing on his hands was the last thing he worried about, considering the fact that a man with two mid-sized luggages and a travel backpack appeared at his door soaked in the pouring rain outside. If he told him that he was just swimming in the beach with his clothes on a second ago he would’ve believed him. For a second, he didn’t even recognize the short, brown haired man bashfully greeting him. He guessed he never saw him with his hair down before.
“I’m really sorry for the trouble,” Nishinoya said, still standing at the foyer when Yaku returned to greet him once more.
“It’s alright, just make sure to try your best to dry up before coming inside.” Truth be told, compared to the shinanigens that the Nekoma volleyball club pulled, this is relatively mediocre on the migraine scale. But-
“You want to take a bath after, right?”
Although the man in front of him was diligently wrapping himself into a mummy with the towels, the waves of chill air from the air conditioner was on the edge of sending Yaku into a sneezing fit, and he wasn’t even the one who was soaking wet. A nice warm bath would be pleasant for Nishinoya to say the least, and it would mean that it would be less likely for him to deal with his new roommate catching a cold.
“If you are comfortable with it then yeah, absolutely!” A radiant grin plastered Nishinoya’s face, even with drops of water drizzling down.
“Okay, the left nob is for the temperature and the right is for the volume of water, and remember to lay down a mat before going out of the tub.” Yaku guided Nishinoya into the bathroom while he listened with the same enthusiastic attitude as before.
“Alright, I got it. Thanks!” He thanked him once more before closing the door. Nishinoya said that he himself could clean up the mess after, but Yaku already grabbed the hair dryer from the bathroom and was ready to do it anyway.
He spent the rest of the evening mainly drying out the backpack, as it was the most soaked Thankfully, nothing electronic or expensive was in there. A while later, Nishinoya rejoined him to clean up with the scent of jasmine surrounding him, stemming from Yaku’s shampoo and body wash.
He lent the hair dryer to him when he came back. Apparently, Nishinoya didn’t think that it would be raining when he arrived.
“Why didn’t you buy a cheap umbrella then?”
“I thought the distance was enough for a sprint. I also didn’t realize the route would be so exposed to the weather until it was too late, of course. That’s when I just started bolting towards here.”
He is not full of himself per se. In Yaku’s eyes, he is more like a ray of sunshine unapologetically confident with his grin.
“Well, the summer weather here is subject to change more often than Miyagi, so you have to be prepared at all times.,” Yaku said.
“Yes sir!” Nishinoya answered with a voice that Yaku couldn’t tell if he was pretending or not.
“Wh-What are you saying that for?” He tried not to get flustered when he heard the familiar phrase. Maybe the old habit of being a co-captain hadn’t been so far removed from him as he thought.
“Ah, thank you for helping me unpack as well. I really owe you at least two dinners at this point.”
“It’s fine, I’m supposed to be your senior after all.” Kuroo would’ve said that the demon senpai has gone soft, but he will argue that he was never that bad to begin with. (Well, Lev was an exception.)
“Then I’ll let you lead the way.”
Staring back to the hair dryer currently in hand, he is reminded that he really needs to finish packing.
Once he seals it away into another box on the pile, he turns back to their shared room. It is already almost empty, the old decorations that they hung up, the panoply of small figurines they collected. It stings on his heart a little, seeing it all gone.
“What are you packing? Did I miss anything?” Yaku finds himself asking.
“Ah! You’re back!” Noya lifts his head and pauses from what he was doing. “Nah, you didn’t miss much, just finishing it up…What took you so long? Is the grilled fish last night that bad?”
“No you idiot, you left the hair dryer in the bathroom. You’re not going to take it with you?” Yaku sits down with him in front of the open cardboard box.
“Nope. I did consider it though, but it would take too much space, and there might be days when I won’t be able to use it.”
Yaku hums in agreement. He has seen Noya multiple times drying his hair with only towels, which Yaku is unable to do; he always finds the leftover dampness frustrating.
“Are you?” Noya asks.
“I don’t think so, it’s a bit too clunky at this point, I sort it onto the donate pile though, I think it is still usable.” There is no point in holding on to it, he thinks. Even though it is filled with memories.
He peers over the box to see clusters of leftover decorations occupying the space. He can make out the few posters, some paintings that were gifted to them, and a wooden carving that he can’t pinpoint what creature it was supposed to be. On top of all of them was a small lamp.
“You're not going to use the night light anymore?” The lamp is still the same as the first time he saw it even with a close up view.
“Yeah! I think I’m finally able to sleep without it, so might as well give it to someone who won’t.” He says proudly.
“I really thought that you’re going to keep it though, considering how you were so attached to it when you moved in.”
“Was I? I don’t really remember.” Noya ponders at the thought, suddenly silent as he is seemingly sucked into memory lane.
Yaku would have thought he had broken him if he saw him in this state three years ago, where he is quiet, focused, like he was on the court pinning down where the ball is flowing. He has seen Bokuto broken down in court countless times that it’s more or less what you would expect when you are against Fukurodani. With Noya, it’s different. Maybe completely opposite from Bokuto, not just with how they behave.
Maybe… maybe I can get through another one, he thought. He had just finished reading for one of his assignments, yawning at the idea of staying up for another hour. The little study area was his favorite place to visit at times like this as he could always feel the peaceful aura surrounding him.
When the ambiance of the city noise had toned down, Nishinoya walked out from the bedroom inside.
“Hey Morisuke-kun, I'm going to bed now,” he said with a small rasp in his voice.
“Oh, um, sleep well Yuu-kun.” His name rolled off Yaku’s tongue with a pause in between that was a tad longer than how the other had said it.
This had somehow become a habit between them since Nishinoya moved in. Both in a rush for the first few days, they were content with collapsing onto their beds when the day drew to its end. But soon enough, Yaku returned to his original routine when the exhaustion had dissipated. Nishinoya would often be the one to say goodnight first and Yaku would still be in the study area working on assignments or watching random videos to relax after a grueling day of volleyball practice.
This time when he turned around, Nishinoya was carrying a ball shaped light in his hands, while trying to find words.
“Is it alright if I put up a night light on the bedside table?” he blurted out, instead of going back in.
Yaku felt his eyebrows quirk up on their own. A night light? He’d never used one personally before, although growing up with two younger brothers, he wasn’t unaccustomed to the subdued hue of light in their shared bedroom.
“I’m fine with it, but do you know where the plug in is?” He asked.
“Yep!” Nishinoya paused a second after his cheery response, the expression softened before adding, “You’re going to sleep soon?”
“I’ll… I’ll go to bed soon. You don’t need to worry about it.” A smile escaped from Yaku, which seemed to have convinced Nishinoya.
“Alright, goodnight!”
“Goodnight.”
Ultimately, the exhaustion creeped up to Yaku. He switched off the lights, and let the darkness enter all around their small apartment.
Nishinoya was covered around his duvet when Yaku entered the bedroom. Ironically, the brightest place in this house right now was here. He let himself sink into his bed while staring up to the ceiling. It reflected the golden hue from the night light, while the wardrobe distant from the edge of his toes remained its wooden tone.
His mind wandered through countless trivial matters before he turned aside, facing the other bed.
He looks so small, Yaku thought.
Perhaps it was because Nishinoya’s hair wasn’t protruding from his head like what he is used to. He wraps the duvet around his arms, with his eyes closed with no burden in sight, really feels like another person, other than the eccentric self he is. The hair, he can tell, was soft as silk just from his eyes. It shimmered from the reflection of the night light, especially the dark blond strand, where it was dyed into orange. His sharp jaw cutting between the jaw and neck, an iota of envy flew across his mind at the sight.
Eventually, Yaku caught himself staring too long at the man across the room, but still didn’t look away.
‘What is he dreaming about?’ was the last thought that he could remember before drifting off into a dream of his own.
He couldn't remember what he was dreaming the next morning, as it was interrupted by blinding light that shot across his face.
“WAKEY WAKEY!” A roaring voice rang through his ears, tearing away the last hope of going back to sleep.
He instinctively covered his head in the pillows and ducked his head away from the window. He could somehow feel Nishinoya staring directly at him, possibly with his foolish grin taking up his entire face.
“So… bright.” He blinked his eyes open, but ended up getting assaulted by the light.
“Good morning Yaku! The sun is shining, the birds are singing, it’s such a beautiful day already.”
“What time… is it?”
“It’s… 7 am. Wow, on the dot actually.”
Yaku rubbed his hands across his face. This, also, had somehow become a recurring situation these past few mornings. At first, it was mutual to wake up early and finish whatever they were going to unpack. However, Yaku was never a morning person to begin with,, Nishinoya, on the other hand, seems to be not only an early riser, but also a loud early riser.
“It’s still so early. I want sleep,” he stubbornly declared, covering himself back in the duvet.
“C’mon it really is clear skies out there, after breakfast we can go out to explore the city.”
“I don’t want to,” he yawned, then added, “Please just let me sleep for a few more minutes.”
“Ahh, alright, I’ll see you later.” And with that, Nishinoya left the bedroom as energetic as ever.
Yaku was left alone in the silence of the room. He had hoped that this is not a habit of Nishinoya’s, ‘helpfully’ waking up the nearest person after he opens his eyes. It was more and more obvious to him that he needed to tell Nishinoya someday that it was, in fact, not a very helpful habit of his. Especially for Yaku, who is less of a morning person than most owls. But in the comfort of his bed, he couldn’t think of anything but drifting back to sleep.
Until days of recurrence made Yaku unable to talk himself out of it.
“I don’t know why you won’t just leave me alone.” He half shouted, the venom in his words unfiltered as he was still half asleep. It was Nishinoya being his loud self again—he just never quit being so talkative in the morning. Yaku thought about talking to him about it before but never found the right moment. Perhaps this isn’t one as well, but he was just fed up with the noise and just wanted to sleep in peace.
“Can you not disturb me when I’m clearly sleeping? It’s not even the start of the semester yet and I already have to wake up at this time and you just won't be quiet for one second,” he ranted about what was straight out of his mind.
The room was tense in silence for a moment, Yaku didn’t see what expression Nishinoya had as he was laying down facing the other direction. For a split second, regret began to form in his stomach.
“Okay… um, I’ll see you later then,” he heard the other whisper so hesitantly that if he had not listened to it with his own ears, he wouldn't have believed it was Nishinoya who said it. Perhaps it’s because he had expected Nishinoya to yell back at him. That’s why when Nishinoya drifted away from the room silently he felt hollow, along with the same asphyxiating feeling that he had when he was alone in the same room a year ago.
He couldn’t fall asleep after that. Instead, he was imagining the expression his roommate had from before. Was he angry or mad? Or just general dislike. What was he thinking? Does Nishinoya not want to talk to him now? Is that why he is so quiet? He pondered over the possibilities inside his head, not wanting to step out of the room.
I need to “wake up” eventually. Yaku sighs. Whether his roommate is angry or not, talking this through with him now is better than not confiding his thoughts with him.
When he did exit the room, the smell of fish, and oddly enough toast, was the first thing that caught his attention. A few plates were placed on their dining table, as Nishinoya was eating breakfast when he took notice of Yaku.
“Hey-” They both greeted each other at the same time. Nishinoya giggled at their shared reaction, partially clearing off the invisible tension inside of Yaku’s head.
“I’m sorry… for saying that earlier,” Yaku sheepishly apologizes, after he sat down on the opposite side of the table as Nishinoya’s.
Nishinoya didn’t speak for a few seconds, just observing Yaku with a blank expression. Yaku can’t pinpoint what exactly about Nishinoya being inexpressive is unnerving for him. The deafening silence? His sharp gaze? Or is it because this is contradicting with the image of Nishinoya he painted in his mind- passionate and exuberant?
Yaku tenses as he braces for the worst. Each beat of his pulsating heart is loud, slowly counting along to the seconds that went by without a reply from Nishinoya.
“Hey, it’s alright,” Nishinoya said suddenly, with a bright smile plastered on his face, just as bright as the morning sun.
Yaku blinked at the other man as he remained still. Was he forgiving him that easily? Or is this some sort of trick? But Nishinoya isn’t the type to-
“Hello? Earth to Morisuke?” Nishinoya asked as he peeked his head forward. The close-up of Nishinoya’s face snapping Yaku out of his thoughts.
After a few more confused blinks he finally spoke, “You're not mad?” He blurted the question out. It was probably not the best reaction to an acceptance of an apology, but it was on the forefront of his mind and he couldn’t stop it.
“Ah, I’m used to that response when I was with my teammates.” Nishinoya said, nonchalantly, as he sat back in his chair. “I should’ve been more considerate, I didn’t think that I was stressing you out. I was just too used to waking up early and the training camps made me have a sense of responsibility to wake people up,” he said with a rueful smile.
“I still should’ve worded it better. Sorry for being too cranky when I woke up. I’m more of a night person, as I think you can already tell.” Yaku chuckled as Nishinoya laughed.
“To be honest, I was a bit thrown off when you got mad. But I should apologize as well for being too noisy in the morning.”
“They do call me the demon senpai during high school.” Yaku mumbled. He was not entirely proud of the name that was given to him.
“Oh I remember that nickname.” Nishinoya’s face shone in recognition.
“You do?”
“When I asked Ryu and Daichi whether or not to move in with you, they did say that you were quite the demon senpai in Nekoma.”
“This has to be Kuroo’s doing.” Yaku could feel the heat under his neck creeping upwards and he covered his face with his hands. The thought of other volleyball players hearing Kuroo’s sly remarks could always make him flustered like a small cat trapped in a corner.
Nishinoya laughed at his reaction, and despite himself, uncovered his face and began to giggle alongside him as well. It was a fine morning, Yaku decided.
“I cooked you breakfast,” Nishinoya said after he wiped his tears away.
Yaku felt his eyes widen on their own as he gazed towards where Nishinoya was, a plate of eggs and toast was placed neatly on the side of the table. Dragging it towards himself, the egg was fried fine, where its edges were sizzled to a pleasant brown, laying over a golden crusty toast. Yaku’s mouth watered at the baked smell steaming upwards. It’s possibly better than what he would normally cook for himself.
“I know that you like western breakfast more so I tried to recreate it.”
It ended up being the best breakfast he had since he left his home.
“Morisuke-san, MORISKE, MORIIIISUKEEEE!”
Someone is jerking his shoulders left and right when he gradually phases back into current time. Meanwhile his ear is also blasted by the thundering shout from the same man beside him.
Yaku covers his ears to protect them from being further damaged by Nishinoya. “Okay okay, what is it?”
Nishinoya lets go of his grip as his head still spins from the shake.
“What were you thinking about?” Nishinoya asked, this time not as loud as before. But still with a curious gaze.
What was he thinking just now?
“Oh, I just remembered some old memories. You looked really peaceful whenever you slept with the night light on,” Yaku put his hands down as he recounted. He remembers how Noya’s lips will always curve upwards when the night light illuminated, how with each sleepless night he will gaze over to him, wondering about how he is always just as bright as the light, how he had to control his urge to smile whenever he was smiling.
“I used to be afraid of the dark, you know.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! I’ve told you I was a scaredy cat when I was young right?”
Yaku nodded in agreement—he did tell him. He couldn’t imagine the Noya now screaming out his lungs just by riding on a bike and with the more he knew about him, the secret to Nishinoya’s courage, he discovered, was experience.
“I didn’t entirely get over the fear of darkness when I moved in. The days after you stopped sleeping early, the anxiety of it followed me here. That’s why I asked you if I could set up the night light.”
And the experience was forged together. At least, that’s what Nishinoya would tell him.
“Looking back now I was really selfish for waking you up. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I wanted you to be able to sleep early as well.” Nishinoya said, more sheepishly than normal with one hand scratching the back of his head.
“I did try to sleep early a few times.”
“And those were the times I felt the easiest to sleep.”
“I didn’t think of that, but it’s nice that I’m able to help you,” Yaku beamed, comparable to Nishinoya’s.
“I don’t mind it anymore. So thank you, Morisuke-san!” Nishinoya clings his arms around Yaku’s neck, bringing him into a tight side hug, making him fall onto his shoulders.
All he feels is warmth and Nishinoya’s jasmine scent that surrounds him, his mind went abruptly numb from the unexpected embrace. For a second he wants to chase the warmth, finding out whether it’s from himself or the other. However, he fights off his urge to melt into it and signals Noya to pull away. He got it as always and let him go.
“Let’s get back to cleaning up.” His face is probably flushing red at this point, he doesn’t mind it, at least as much as he used to. He can see Nishinoya still grinning on the floor as he stands up. Nishinoya follows him soon after- In more ways than one.
They packed up the night light and continued to work on the rest of the room.
They circle around the bare room for one more time. He finds a sharpie under his bed, one that is apparently his since Nishinoya denies it’s his. He even lists out loud of all the miscellaneous items he purchased throughout the three years one by one, yielding no conclusive results. So Yaku tucks it into his backpack and promptly carries on, ducking under the low surfaces that even they are too tall to enter, and peer over the high shelves while tipping toes. However, he isn’t able to find anything else that is left behind.
Yaku is just about finishing his corner when Nishinoya seems to have found something.
“WAIT! Is this what I think it is?”
“What is it?” He asks, as he takes one final look under the wardrobe. It is empty, so he stands back up.
“Look! It’s the loyalty card. I found it under the drawer, it must’ve slipped out,” Nishinoya exclaims.
“From the restaurant?” Yaku slides over to get a better view of said card. It is indeed the card that they were collecting stamps on. The corners are worn off from the constant usage, it was also a bit dusty, but it can’t be helped.
“It looks like we have two more meals before we can complete it,” Nishinoya sighs and flips the card over.
“Do you want it?” Yaku asks as he rests his arms on Nishinoya’s shoulder, nudging around to find the perfect balance between them.
“I don’t think I will use it.” His gaze moves from the card to Yaku’s.
“But you don’t want to throw it out?”
Nishinoya doesn’t answer the question. He checks the card again, the once twenty blanks now only have two. Yaku works his eyebrows up in question, but let’s Noya finish his thought.
“Do you remember the first time we went there?”
Yaku snapped the door shut as soon as he stepped inside, blocking out the grueling late summer air. It was approaching October yet Tokyo’s temperature remained plateau. He brushed off the last bit of sweat to appreciate the breeze coming down from the air conditioner.
“Morisuke-san!” Nishinoya appeared from the corner, wearing a shirt that had a bold calligraphy of ‘unmatched audacity’ printed across it.
“Hi.” Nishinoya was holding a piece of flier as he approached him. It didn’t seem like he had showered yet, which likely meant that he just came home.
They remained friendly after the semester started. Yaku would often wake up with an empty bed next to him. But each day he would either find Nishinoya eating breakfast with an extra plate beside him, or a plate of eggs and toast sitting in the oven when Nishinoya had early classes. Nishinoya would also find a meal in their fridge with notes saying ‘If you’re tired you can eat this’ when Yaku had classes or volleyball practice at night.
“I found this around the campus today. It has a buy one get one free event going on.”
With a closer look, the flier was advertising a restaurant’s grand opening. Flashy donburi doodles scattered around the dark background, the address seemed close to the surrounding campus food districts. What surprised him was it wasn’t a brand that he recognized, and he was quite confident that he can name all of the big donburi franchises inside Tokyo.
“Have you seen this store name before?” He turned to face Nishinoya, searching for some sort of recognition or nostalgia regarding this store. Perhaps this is one of the popular shops from Miyagi.
“Nope! That is the fun part, it is a brand new restaurant, how exciting is that!” Nishinoya explained with a gleam in his eyes.
“A new restaurant…” he muttered.
“It'll be fun! We can go on a little adventure.” Nishinoya appeared to have caught the hesitation in Yaku, as he slapped both of his hands on Yaku’s shoulder.
He would admit he doesn’t enjoy experimenting that much, he had been living in the same city since he can recount the first memory, and with endless possibilities, in turn, he likes to go to his usual spots, where he felt most comfortable to be. But in the corner of his eyes, he could almost spot Nishinoya’s audacious gaze spark piercing through his mind.
“Fine, but don’t get ripped off by the obvious tourist traps again.” The defeated tone in his words was not holding up as strongly as he would’ve liked. There is more to gain than lose, he thought. Even if that means giving in to Nishinoya’s visceral ideas.
“That’s another reason for you to come with me as well!” he said with a smile that reached his eyes.
Nishinoya, Yaku discovered, is really good at persuading him.
Yaku had already taken him on an impromptu tour once, with the most famous tourist spots to get him familiarized with the city. All the messy subway lines and the most delicious Ice cream shop that he knew. (Still, Nishinoya thinks Gari-Gari kun ice pop remains unbeatable.) He blames himself for not warning Nishinoya before he bought a Skytree snowglobe when he got distracted by his old friends that were also around the area. It was a charming souvenir—Nishinoya said so as well—however, considering the price tag that came along with it, a warning beforehand would still have made Yaku more comfortable.
This time, only the final destination was known, calling them when their stomach growled. But they both knew that the time would not approach soon. This time, they had no direction mapped out as they traversed in and out of the maze that is Tokyo.
The first stop was the Taiko drum machine outside the subway station. They challenged each other on the hardest difficulty, as a test of their reaction abilities.
“Watch this.” Nishinoya went first, he placed his balance lower and gripped the drumsticks tight, his hazel brown eyes widening as the song started.
“COME ONNNN!” He was doing well at the beginning, but gradually losing his steam when the song entered its wild stage, the red and blue dots flew across the screen in a flurry, Nishinoya hands were tearing across the drum as well, as if it was a reflex, hitting it at the moment his eyes caught the flying circles. Yaku gaped when he managed to catch up in the end.
“How did you do that?” Nishinoya was lying on the machine catching his breath, Yaku didn’t even know if the score was physically possible to achieve.
“My jii-san… used to be a… big fan of this game.”
A grin was tugging on Yaku’s face as he imagined a miniature sized Nishinoya and his grandpa hyping each other up. From what he had heard from Nishinoya’s stories, that rambunctious old man would probably destroy the entire machine if not careful.
“It’s your turn now, Morisuke. Don’t go easy on me.” Nishinoya said as he patted Yaku’s shoulders, firm and encouraging.
Yaku could see the sweat glimmer from Nishinoya’s forehead when he handed over the drumsticks with an exuberant grin.
“I would never.” He took the drumsticks offered to him swiftly, the grin on his face probably challenging Nishinoya’s.
The drum sticks were still warm from Nishinoya’s grip. Yaku held onto it, feeling the smoothness around it and hit retry, starting the music once more.
He fumbled during the middle, his hands grown weak when he saw the circles shooting across the panel. He took a deep breath and regained his focus, letting the adrenaline kick in. He gained a few more points after that, but still was far from catching up to the speed.
“That was amazing, Morisuke-kun!” Nishinoya cheered and clapped his hands once the game was over.
The loud noise made Yaku snap his gaze away from the machine, finding Nishinoya now standing closer to him than he thought.
“Took some warming up to do.” He turned to his score on the panel. In the end, Yaku was only able to get half of Nishinoya's score.
“You still won this one though.”
He smiled despite him losing, and almost coughed when the other man rested his arms on his shoulders.
“That is very good for a beginner player. With a little practice, I’m sure you will be able to catch on,” he said when strolled around again, hardly suppressing the excitement in his voice.
“I’ll pass on that” is what Yaku would’ve said, but didn’t. Not because Nishinoya was looking forward to it, but because he likes the adrenaline and the focus. Also, with Nishinoya around, the sense of competition with another libero was enough to make him excited for it as well.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Yaku said instead, wiping the remaining sweat from his forehead, and tried not to think about the sudden tightness in his chest when Nishinoya beamed.
During the way to the restaurant, they went around the shopping plaza looking for new knee pads. Under Nishinoya’s suggestion, Yaku picked a new brand due to his old one being slightly uncomfortable. They also went to the thrift store; browsing through the new items, Nishinoya bought one navy blue shirt that has pounder white calligraphy of “Climb higher to obtain a broader view”.
They browsed past store after store, and some made Yaku think that college students shouldn’t even consider the possibility of buying anything here. The overpriced coffee shops that cost twice as much as the campus convenience stores, the high-end stationary shops that sell products Yaku appreciates more on an aesthetic level than on a practical one, and the elegantly decorated tailor stores that he didn’t dare to set one foot in. Only with his sneaking glances could Yaku make out the suits that he wants to try on, anything more than that he is afraid he would turn impulsive and use up all his savings on them, so he kept on walking. Until one store caught Nishinoya’s attention once more they finally stopped in their tracks.
“Do you want to check that out?” He tugged on Yaku’s sleeves.
The floral decorations in the front stood out from the other boutique-esque shops. Taking a step closer, the variety of plants inside the shop became apparent. Just from the outside, he could see lanky cactus’ to chubby succulents, it was almost a forest. Yet unlike a natural forest, it wasn’t hard to notice that the plants were neatly organized into different sections by their types. Either by their color or their species. Still, the warm lighting and the woodsy decorations preserved the welcoming feeling that many other stores had lost.
“You want to buy plants?”
“What are you giving me that look for? It’s just plants,” Nishinoya said.
Yaku took a mental note to be less expressive in the future. For some unknown reason, the idea of Nishinoya and plants didn’t correlate in his mind—maybe because the thought of Nishinoya yelling at a fragile plant only made him feel bad for it.
“Since our landlord doesn’t like pets… we could just buy a plant!”
Nishinoya didn’t have any intention to have pets when he moved in, so Yaku wasn’t sure if he was just bargaining or secretly wanted a pet. Although, he was leaning on the former.
“We as in… getting a plant together?” Yaku raised his eyebrows in question.
“I thought you always wanted to have a pet.” Nishinoya’s grin had a hint of pink in his cheeks. Weird.
He had thought of getting a cat when he moved in. When his old roommate informed him that he couldn’t, there was slight disappointment in his mind, but that made him look forward to his life after college. He was certain he never told Nishinoya about it, though.
“Your phone wallpaper is a cat… you like cats right?” Nishinoya pointed out before Yaku could ask. He didn’t know if he should be surprised or glad, as he blinked for a few seconds before coming back to himself.
He agreed on the terms of buying only one plant, before Nishinoya got any idea of spending all of the money that he worked hard to save.
Yaku was studying a tag about leeks when he felt hurried taps on his shoulder. He turned to see that the hand was Nishinoya’s—no surprise there. However, there was also another person standing near that was blocked by Nishinoya. He peered around to discover that it was a brown haired woman dressed in uniform, who is almost as tall as him, but seemed to still be in her late 20s.
“You boys looking for something?” she greeted, with a warm smile that reached her brown eyes.
“Um… uh… Yes! I mean… Yaku! What are we looking for?” Nishinoya backed away from the woman and stiffly gestured to the other man.
He looked from the clerk to Nishinoya, and from Nishinoya back to the clerk. The woman seemed to find the situation amusing, from the way that she is biting back a laugh. Nishinoya was not any better, who is acting like an overheated robot.
He cleared his throat and said, “We’re looking for an easy plant to take care of that is not too small.”
”A plant that is easy to take care of but not too small…” The clerk adjusted her glasses, switching back to professional mode. “Do you live in an apartment? How much lighting is available?”
“Yes, but we have direct sunlight during the afternoon,” Yaku said.
“In that case, you can try kalanchoe.” The clerk gestured to them to follow along, leading them to the more colorful section of the store. He tried to snap Nishinoya out of his trance, at least he was still able to follow them without much difficulty, he counted that as a win.
They ended in front of a wide range of different succulents; some have bright vermilion flowers blooming at the top, some were short and only have chubby veraldecent leaves, and some even have leaves that seemed burned around the edges.
“Are these the plants that you were talking about? Kaylan-“
“Kalanchoe. Yes, these are indeed kalanchoes,” she said, eyes scanning over the plants. “There are many types as you can see, however they are all relatively easy to care for. They don’t need a lot of water, and just require decent sunlight. You can look around and pick a favorite if you like to.”
Yaku’s sight settled on one that has sparse lilac colored flowers jut out from the leaves, the thin scape wobbling when he picked it up. The flowers didn’t have any strong scent to it: the whiff of dirt was all that he could smell. He measured its height with his hands, rounding out to about one hand tall.
“OI, Nishinoya. Do you like this one?” He handed it over to Nishinoya, who was originally observing the plants on the higher shelves.
“Yeah! This looks nice.” He rotated it clockwise and counterclockwise, although his eyes were wide and clear, a faint blush remained on his cheeks.
“This one is called Kalanchoe pumila. The purple and pink flowers usually bloom during spring, this one is a sample that is kept inside a winter environment for the last few months. If you buy one of these, you will have to wait for… another four or five months,” she said on the top of her head.
Yaku gazed towards Nishinoya, expecting to find his flustered expression, he was surprised to see that he was looking towards him.
“I think this is the one,” Nishinoya said.
During checkout, The clerk gave them more tips on how to take care of the plant, and told them more about the symbolism. “The plant is usually a symbol for persistence and long lasting due to its ability to live without a lot of water,” she added in the end.
“Thank you for your help.” They bowed at the same time after she handed over the new plant.
“It’s my pleasure. You boys can come over if you have any questions or trouble.” She bowed as well, the same kind-hearted smile remaining on her face as they walked out of the store.
The sun was shifting downwards when they found their way out of the plaza, rendering the blue skies into all shades of colors, from the triumphant gold blending into sparks of crimson and violet.
Yaku hastily took a picture of Nishinoya in front of him, facing the sun on the crowded street. It didn’t capture the colors on Nishinoya’s body, leaving only a spiky-haired figure under the backdrop of a setting sun. He saved the photo and quickly tugged his phone back in, running up to the other man. His stomach is feeling empty now, and was sure that Nishinoya felt the same.
They arrived eventually. The restaurant was secluded in an alley, but not far from their University. He could come here more often, he thinks, if the donburi was good.
Nishinoya slid the wooden door open, revealing a quaint restaurant with no more than five tables, the warm lights surrounding the store brightening up the place. There were a few tables occupied, mostly students around their age from their appearances. The smell of salt and vinegar drowned his senses, accompanied with beer and fried food, as usual with these kinds of restaurants.
They chose the seat that’s near the open window, where the evening wind can enter with ease. A set of menus was already on the table, but the presence of an ordering machine didn’t seem to be present.
“There are not a lot of choices,” Yaku said. He flipped the menu around to see if it has a second side that he was missing—there wasn’t.
“That is one of our specialties,” a hoarse voice beside him enthused.
He didn’t know what he expected, a cute waitress that could swing his heart around? Or a middle aged woman who had a snarky attitude? He had seen both of these kinds of waitresses before, but a grandma waitressing at a donburi restaurant was a first, he would say.
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that in a bad way…” He could see that Nishinoya was watching him with intent. However, he wasn't sure if Nishinoya getting involved in this conversation would be like adding fuel to the fire. Thankfully, the granny replied before Nishinoya could say anything.
“We get that a lot,” she cackled, the lines on her face growing even more visible. “Even though we just opened last week!”
She was wearing a flattering sakura themed kimono with her silver hair tied up. Although with her age, the playfulness in her smile hadn’t disappeared.
“Alright young ones, what do you want to order?” She pulled out a clipboard from the side of the desk.
Yaku looked back to the menu. The selection wasn’t much; only three types of donburi and two types of udon, along with a few side meals and drinks.
“Hey Morisuke-kun, what do you want to eat?”
“One tempura donburi, one katsudon, a plate of stir fried vegetables and two beers.” The granny taps her pen on the pad with each dish that was recounted. “Is that all?”
Yaku halfheartedly rolled his eyes on the last one. On one hand, he had volleyball practice tomorrow and a bad hangover would be terrible for his record. On the other hand, he had never been one to turn down a drink in the evening, and his tolerance wasn’t horrible, in his own opinion.
Technically, he was restricted to only one meal that wasn't regulated per week, so why not go all out for once, especially if there is another person with you to celebrate.
“Yes, that’s all,” Yaku said, handing over the menus.
“Okay then, it takes a while for the old man to work around the kitchen these days.” She folded the menus under her pad. With her bold smile line slicing across her face, highlighting the roundness in her cheeks.
“Although, I can say it is worth the wait,” she said, pouring them tea.
“Do you and your husband run the place?” Nishinoya asked.
She chuckled at the question. “He said it is an ambition of his, following his father’s.” Traces of white steam vaporized from the hot tea cup as she talks. “His father never opened a restaurant in his lifetime. A shame, he was a wonderful cook, I still remember how his rice bowl tasted.”
She passed the now full cups back to the guests and straightened her posture. “I’ll stop bothering you young ones with my stories. It is all in the past.” she sighed. “Anyway, the utensils are in the cabinet, and if you need anything else you can ask me.”
They both nodded in response. Her eyes were bright once again when she ambled away from their table.
An old couple running a restaurant together made more sense than an old woman working alone, he thought. With the population gradually growing older, he didn’t know what to expect when he gets to that age. She seemed content with it, and that was what he ultimately wished he would be.
He took a sip of the hot tea, letting in the heat to fill up his mouth. It had a dash of matcha sprinkled in, enriching the original sweet flavor and the bitter aftertaste. The old lady was chatting with other customers now, a group of four, none of them he recognized. He probably should call his friends from Nekoma some time soon—everyone seems so busy these days, either with college or jobs. And he himself didn’t have energy as well, balancing volleyball and studying. He only spends time regularly with his roommate now, which is unavoidable, but…
The ceramic cup was getting hotter, burning his grip when he found out he had been spacing out too long. He reflexively withdrew his hands, blowing at his hands when he heard a familiar laughter.
Yaku can feel his left eyebrow lifting on its own. “It’s not that funny, you know.” He said in a deep voice, as he shook his hands in the air, catching sight of Nishinoya’s grin that he is all too comfortable with.
“Is the granny too much for you to handle?” Nishinoya said, wagging his eyebrows.
“You are not going to talk about “being flustered” when I had to save you in the mall just a few hours ago.” He took another drink of the tea.
“That is different. She is a woman of beauty and style.” He held his hands up and curled his fist as if he was posing for a photo shoot, beams of sunlight from the window casting his expression even more dramatic.
“The granny has style—the kimono fits her style and the hair is not bad…” He stopped himself before digging himself deeper in the hole.
“I didn’t know you were into that type,” Nishinoya said, face completely serious.
“Shut up you bastard,” he yelled.
Nishinoya’s giggle coincided with the notion of his thought implanted into Yaku’s head, blossoming into the heat emerging under his neck. “Fuck you.” He muttered, with a grin on his face.
“What was on your mind?” Nishinoya asked, with his chin resting on one of his hands, propping off from the table.
A few thoughts ran through his head, holding him back from replying instantly. He wanted to be frank; upon hearing the joyous chatter from the other tables, the option of weighing down the conversation didn’t sit right with him.
“Not much, only about how you would absolutely be fuming if a customer was bitching about the Lawson you work at.” So, he offered to pass the ball right back to him, alongside a smirk he thought that Kuroo would be proud of.
“WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN, HUH!” Nishinoya lifted his thumbs, pointing to himself. “Yours truly is a great employee, and would never ever be rude to any of my customers!” Tilting his chin upwards, he leaves one eye closed and the other squinted at Yaku.
Yaku’s smirk got bigger as he crossed his arms and leaned forward, applying pressure to Nishinoya on the other side of the table. “Why do I remember somebody was almost fired when you made a kid cry during your shift?”
“That…that was different.” Nishinoya’s gaze fluttered around for a second. “It’s not my fault that the little boy forgot to pay before leaving.”
Yaku had to stifle a laugh from the memory.“You are too scary looking,” he teased.
“Who thought working at a Lawson would require you to consult a neglected child. It was a good thing that the manager understood what was going on,” Nishinoya said, slumping down on the table.
“You’re still saving, right?”
“Yep.” He lifted his head to speak, lying on his arms. “If everything goes well I can start traveling once I graduate.”
He had told him once about his aspiration to travel around the world, when he asked him where to get a part time job. He thought he was planning to join a pro league that flies around to compete, considering his adept skills as a libero many teams would be glad to have him as a member.
“I guess I can’t convince you to not quit volleyball?” A part of him knew the answer already, knowing Nishinoya.
“Many people have tried,” he said, with a glint of recognition in his eyes. “‘The wanderlust in me is too strong.’ That’s what my grandpa always said.”
Yaku wanted to take a picture of this moment. Nishinoya's hair hasn’t changed one bit since they left their apartment, glowing under the restaurant's lights. He wanted to ask how he does his hair. Nishinoya’s cheek was squished between his head and his arms, it was…
“Hey, stop spacing out man. Are you okay?” Nishinoya’s hand waved across his vision, bringing him back to the conversation.
“I’m fine,” he said, however he can’t control the yawn that came out of his mouth.
Nishinoya’s eyebrows remained furrowed and didn’t pretend to be convinced.
Yaku sighed, he wasn’t deceiving anyone, not even himself. “Maybe a little bit tired.” That wasn’t a lie, it had been a long day.
Offering a reassuring smile, Nishinoya’s eyes softened.“Let’s go back home after this meal.”
“Oh yeah, what are you planning to do after you graduate?” Nishinoya asked, out of the blue.
After leaving only the barren bowl behind, Nishinoya had started taking swigs of beer from the glass. Yaku watched as the man’s face got progressively more flushed. He was cleaning up his own bowl, indulging himself with the egg-covered tonkatsu, which did not lose its crunchy exterior while maintaining the juicy interior. The soy sauce and egg flavoring the rice made it effortless to devour the meal, although he was no match in comparison to Nishinoya.
He took a sip of his own beer before answering the question. Bitter. “Volleyball, I guess. Don’t know where.”
“You haven’t signed to any team yet?”
Ah, the same question again. “I wanted to get a college degree first.” Nishinoya gave him a perplexed expression, one that he hadn’t seen in a long time. “What? Is it so surprising that I wanted to get a degree?”
“NO, not that… I thought you were capable enough to get it when you graduated high school,” he said, immediately realizing how it came out. “I mean since you are so proficient at volleyball I thought… Fuck, nevermindallthat, UGHHH!” His words were slurring together in the end, when he tried to cover his face with his hands, it only became worse.
“I know what you’re trying to say.” He leaned back in the chair, embracing the warmth of the alcohol. “I don’t want to stay in Japan either. The world is so big, it would be a waste if my whole life is stuck on this island.” Nishinoya went silent, his eyebrows that shot up spoke louder than any other words could. “A degree is also what I wanted, a backup of sorts.”
The beer wasn’t as bitter as the last time when he took another gulp, the sweet aftertaste mellowing in his mouth.
“I really like you, Morisuke.” Nishinoya whispered, in awe. The empty cups of beer were probably causing him to mumble out anything in his mind right now. The grin he had and a hum of affirmation were the only responses to him. Taking one last drink of beer, he asked Nishinoya if he was ready to leave.
The old granny gave them a paper loyalty card when they left, and thanked them for coming to a new store after she learned that they traveled just to get there.
Yaku had a feeling that they would revisit the restaurant for many years to come, but it’s merely a hunch, when they stepped out of the wooden front door.
“What do you think about the symbol of “persistence and long lasting”?” Nishinoya said, dangling the plant in front of him as they were walking back to their apartment. The chill wind had come along with them into the dim alley way, as the sun had long set.
Persistence? That could be a lot of things. In his head, it could mean the passion he has with volleyball, or the goal that Nishinoya has of traveling around the world. He wondered about what life he would live in the near and far future, whether persistence is a trait that he would have, and to the other man walking besides him right now. As they continue to live, would their goals be long lasting, and would their friendship be able to last? Even if the time ultimately comes?
What he did know is right now, in this current moment, where he could wander inside of Tokyo for half a day, facing the random things that came his way, and be right beside a boisterous man that he couldn’t seem to escape from. But, he likes the now—however ephemeral it may be.
“I like it.” A faint smile appeared on his face, breaking off his rumination. The moon was shining that night, when Yaku lifted his head to admire the sight of it.
He noticed Nishinoya staring at him in the corner of his eyes. As he turned to see him, his usual grin appeared, dusted slightly pale under the moonlight.
“I like it, too,” he said.
Yaku wasn’t sure if he saw a vague shade of pink appear on Nishinoya’s face, as it was obscured by the moonlight, or if it was due to the beer that they drank. Nonetheless, he could see through the gleam in his eyes that the other man was thinking the same thing, when he felt a surge of heat from the biggest grin he saw on Nishinoya’s face.
“Of course, I do remember. How could I forget how embarrassing it is to cover for you at the plant shop,” Yaku nonchalantly responds, earning him a punch on the shoulder. It is not entirely painless as Nishioya’s punches come from his strong arms, but it’s not enough to form a bruise either.
Nishinoya crosses his arms, but softens. “I want to go back there again.” The wistful tone in Nishinoya’s voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Yaku.
“Don’t think we have time for that… It’s closed today and tomorrow.”
“Oi, I’m talking about after we move, you idiot,” he says while clenching up his left fist.
“You can go there any time.” He pretends to protect his already injured shoulder from Nishinoya as he sees his other hand that holds the card isn’t crumpling up the paper.
“No, it wouldn’t be the same if you don’t return as well.” Nishinoya’s hyped up irritation dissipates into a frown that tugs at Yaku’s heart.
“I promise you then, to go back there in the future.”
He wished that he could foretold the future; grasp at the countless threads that intertwined the boundary of time. However, he can’t—so a faint assurance that glazes over the tip top surface of one ever moving strand is the best that he can do.
“You should be the one to keep it, you will have more free time,” Yaku said, pointing at the card in Nishinoya’s hands.
Nishinoya brightened at that. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”
Yaku checked his watch: three thirty said the pointer on his hands,. iIt’s time to continue packing, leaving the essentials for the final day.
They run through the items on the living room list, primarily because there isn’t much of a living room to start with.
A dining table used to take up most of the space, along with its corresponding chairs. They had sold it to a local second hand store, leaving the wooden tiles to be the one that fills up the vacant space.
The shelves below the hanging TV were clear of any nicknacks, with a single exception.
“What are you going to do with the switch?”
“I’m definitely not going to keep it.” Nishinoya said.
The console was a gift from Nishinoya’s sisters to celebrate his 19th birthday, a gift that he was surprised by. Part being because it’s such an expensive present, and part being that they didn’t have any consoles growing up.
So when Nishinoya came back from his trip to Miyagi with a brand new switch in hand, the first thing he asked was, “Do you know any games that can be played on this thing?”
(He specifically asked for no combat games, although, Yaku didn’t know the reason why)
“But… I don’t want to give it away either.” He brought his hands to his chin, pensive while he stared at the switch.
“How about you put it at your family’s place. Then you don’t have to worry about it.” Yaku pointed out.
“Good idea.” Nishinoya took another closer look at the console, unplugging the plug from the socket and sighed. “That night when we played overcooked is one of the best nights of my life.”
“Why did I think pulling an all-nighter to play a game was a good idea?”
“It’s because you are easily manipulated.”
“That was a rhetorical question that doesn’t need any answering.” Sometimes his roommate is too like his old white haired half-Russian teammate for his own good, as Yaku cracks his knuckles to blow off some steam.
It was, however, true to a degree that when he suggested that Nishinoya could play overcooked, he should've given a few warnings such as: you will want to rip each other’s hair out while throwing fish, or over boiling the rice when you are too focused on the uncleared dishes. But the biggest “regret” he had was not trying hard enough to convince his one-braincell roommate to not speedrun the whole game in one night, and dragging himself along with him.
“Still, you were the one that ended up passing out on top of me right after the credits rolled,” Yaku says, watching the other man closing the package that holds the switch.
“A good pillow is always too good to pass off. Don’t you agree yakun?” Nishinoya bounces up from the ground, collapsing into Yaku’s arms and snuggling under his neck.
“Eh, not now…” He nudges the man clinging on him a few times. “We still have a lot to do today.” His neck tingles from Nishinoya’s steady breathing,
“Can I… stay like this for a little longer,” he says, voice muffled under Yaku’s skin. Each word vibrates across their chests.
Shifting his weight this time to secure his embrace, he breathes in the jasmine shampoo that he adores maybe too much. Nishinoya’s jacket was smooth when his hands slid around his back, distracting him from their pulsing veins.
The next day from their all-nighter, Yaku woke up to his roommate tangled on top of him. He was already awake before him of course, but made no effort on detaching from the man under him. A flustered “EEK-“ was all he heard when his gaze snapped to meet the other’s. As if the crow was startled by the neko, he jumped away without a warning. A force of his rationality impeded Yaku from pulling Nishinoya back down, upon seeing his cheeks turning crimson.
Now, he holds on tight into the other, capturing the warmth he let go that morning. He hadn’t fully confronted Nishinoya about it, but he knows he doesn’t need to.
“You really are a great pillow.”
“Alright that’s enough, get off of me.”