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Kim Sunoo admired Nishimura Riki the moment he laid his eyes on the younger.
It was the last week of March, a couple years back, when he had just finished his training for Hapkido and the rain started pouring just when he was about to cross the pedestrian lane. When the dance instructor saw him, she offered to let Sunoo stay in the studio until the sky cleared; she recognized Sunoo’s get up and assumed he was an athlete. She feared that the cold rain would stiffen his muscle or speed his heart rate and would put him in danger or ruin his athletic journey. Sunoo, who had no umbrella and who still needed to wait for his best friend, Jungwon from the same dance class, decided to stay.
And there’s when he first saw Riki—dancing as if he has been dancing his whole life, or maybe even all of his past lives too, teaching the younger kids the steps they couldn’t quite get. He moved as if dancing was all he knew, as if it was the air he breathes, as if it’s the only thing that brought him peace. With a small smile showing up genuinely and a cold gaze maintained, Sunoo admired him for his passion and earnestness for dancing.
Riki wasn’t looking then, but Sunoo was—and he saw.
During their last year in high school, Riki was officially included in the lineup for the first five players of their school’s basketball team. They would often train after school hours, then they’d stay a bit much longer to clean up over the court they used.
It was the day before the inter high season that he first saw Kim Sunoo—talking to four of his teammates, Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, and cheering them on.
“Just do your best and enjoy the games! It feels more special like that. Winning is just a bonus.” He says and the other man beside him, Jungwon, excitedly agrees. “Tsaka, don’t injure yourselves din pala! Babalian ko kayo ng buto kapag nagka-injury kayo, sige,” He nags, but it certainly lifted a burden off his seniors.
Riki shakes his head. What a long and violent way of saying they should take care of themselves, he thinks to himself. He slings his bag to his shoulder before turning back to head to the exit—well, until Sunoo calls for him.
“Nishimura!”
He stops his tracks and turns his head slightly; not enough to see his whole face but only for his peripherals to see the small group.
“Good luck! I-cheer din kita bukas.” Sunoo giggles before looking back to one of the older men.
Riki whips his head back, a little over 90° together with his torso, and Sunoo wasn’t able to witness that.
Kim Sunoo didn’t look back that day, but it’s okay. Nishimura Riki did and acknowledged anyway.
Then their story began.
What started as admiration turned into lingering glances and shy smiles—most often unreciprocated because the other has his eyes elsewhere. Maybe the other was looking at the bulletin board for announcements, or maybe one of them was watching dance covers on youtube, or maybe…one looked away the moment the other began to turn to his direction.
They weren’t looking to see, but everyone else, along with the universe, was there to see how their friendship unfolded.
Sunoo rests his head on Riki’s stomach, the other five slow dancing over a 2020 kpop summer song near the bonfire. They looked silly, but it really made all of them happy.
“Hyung,” Riki calls, making Sunoo look at him with doe eyes. “Naalala mo ba nung team building natin sa DebSoc?” Sunoo nods, fragments of their past resurfaces his old mind.
“When we were partnered ba, tas we had to tell the things we liked about each other?” Riki nods. “I remember sabi mo, you liked my smile. I never got a chance to ask you if that was true.”
“Partly, yes.” Riki looks away. He looks at the small crashing waves kissing the foot of the shore. A part of him wants to run after them, maybe meet them halfway, just to get a chaste kiss from the ocean. Or maybe he just wants to run away from the topic that he, himself, has opened. He’ll never truly know.
“Partly?”
“I like a lot of things about you, Hyung.” He starts before finally bringing his gaze down to meet those of a fox’s. “I like how you have a bizarre way of saying take care, or I missed you, I love you, or I’ll always be there for you.”
He remembers it clearly, how Sunoo can never say those words directly—how he’ll find an odd, and probably threatening way of addressing his affection.
Sunoo never says I’m right here for you, but he does say, “Ba’t umiiyak ka mag-isa, dapat by pair.” Sunoo never says I miss you, but he will tell you he’s alone and he’s about to die out of boredom. Everyone knows how he says take care— “Pag nadisgrasya ka, ako mismo papatay sa’yo, sige!”
And when he says I love you, it’s never those three words. It’s always simplified in the most vulgar word in the Filipino language if possible— ”Putangina ka!”
But Riki also does know, contrary to what he said earlier, that if you asked Sunoo of whether he loves any of his friends, he will simply smile, tip his head in the direction of the object of his love, admiring them softly while saying, “Siyempre naman, mahal na mahal ko ‘yan!”
“I also like how you put water on your sodas,” Riki stifles a laugh. “Reminds me I should take care of myself.”
“Aba’y gag—hoy! Ba’t mo alam ‘yon?” The older one can barely hold his laughter. “Akala ko naman walang nakatingin pag ginagawa ko ‘yun, baka sabihin nila para akong bata!”
His face heats up in embarrassment, remembering how he would first look around and make sure all his friends were busy before mixing his soda with water—it’s not that he’s health-conscious, he just doesn’t like the feeling of carbon fizzling in his mouth, so he tries to even it out through diluting it water.
“I tried it once, it changed my life. Kaya pala mas gusto ko ‘yung softdrinks sa fast food kasi natunawan na ng yelo.”
All along, he was seen and maybe he didn’t look hard enough to notice.
“Ano bang meron, why are you bringing all of these up?” Sunoo lifts himself and sits beside the younger.
The younger one looks at him, trying to settle in place before sporting a smile—which Sunoo was quick to catch. He doesn’t bring it up, though, knowing that Riki is insecure of how he looks when he smiles.
“I just never thanked you enough.”
“For what?”
“For being my friend, for being a kuya to me.” Riki’s line of sight can be traced back to the moon, captivated by its beauty, like the tides pulling up to its liking, even though he liked the sun better. “You know, when I said that it’s partly true that I like your smile… it’s because it always has to be paired with your eye smile.”
And Riki no longer had to explain further because Sunoo already knows it. He knows, on that split seconds that Riki had his gaze elsewhere, on those little moments that he was given chance to stare at the younger—he knows that ghost of a smile and it brings so much joy to his little heart.
“Whenever you smile, like, when you’re genuinely happy, your eyes disappear and it makes me happy, too.” Riki rests his head on Sunoo’s shoulder, feeling warmth rival the cool sea breeze embracing him. “It’s like you’re closing your eyes to escape reality and just dwell in happiness… sometimes I want to ask if you’d ever let me come with you.”
Sunoo’s heart wrenches with what he has heard. He knows, even without looking much into it, that Riki has been having a hard time. The younger was subjected to so much hate by the people around them—often because of his words being taken out of context or because people always choose to spare him the understanding.
Riki rarely smiles. He rarely talks about his life, even more so his feelings.
This moment of vulnerability shown to him, is a moment he would like to shield away from everyone. He likes this to be his and Riki’s only, a moment they can call their own despite being in a seven-membered friend circle.
“You don’t even have to ask, Riks.” Sunoo starts, before taking the younger’s hand gently in his, just like how one picks up a seashell straying ashore. “I love you, you know?”
Riki perks up, surprised by the sudden verbal address of affection. “I know! Can you please say it—”
“Don’t look at me, I’m not repeating that na.” Sunoo rolls his eyes, cheeks tinted crimson.
“Okay. I love you, too, Hyung. ” Riki kept his gaze on Sunoo, who still had his eyes everywhere but him. Even if everyone has their eyes on me.
Even when I make mistakes.
Even by the time you’ve grown tired of me.
I’ll always keep you in my heart.
Riki smiles slightly as unsaid words settle in his chest. He rests back his head on the empty shoulder inviting him in—always reminding him that he’s welcome.
A few moments pass and a comfortable silence envelops them together. Calming them along with the soft crashing of waves, the crickets singing nearby, the faint rustling of wind, their friends’ voices by the distance, the sound of sparks floating along the bonfire before its ultimate death—Riki feels home.
Sunoo rests his head on top of his own, “You can come with me.”
And Riki does.
He closes his eyes and melds his breathing to that of Sunoo’s.
Right then and there, the both of them formed a mutual understanding of their friendship.
They will never truly be aware of how much they mean to each other. They would feel enough to never doubt and question, but never truly know the fullness of his value. No matter how much time they spend trying to peek, no matter how hard they try to look.
And it’s okay— for the best things happen when we aren’t looking.
Isn’t that why we close our eyes and we wish? Or when we close our eyes when we pray? Or when we kiss? Or when we dream?
Isn’t that why the universe brought them together, when they weren’t searching for one another, in the first place?
Isn’t that why they love each other harder whenever they’re sure it’s only themself who knows?
Oh, well. Life is full of surprises and questions we can never really know if the answers we come up with are correct. But at least they need not look further, they need not look at all, because they know they will have each other’s back for a long long time.