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The smell of antiseptic spray clogged up Osamu’s nose, making him wince. Despite it, he held down on the handle, letting more drip out. His arms were getting strangely tired from overexertion.
“Ya’ve cleaned that area twice now,” A familiar voice called out to him. Osamu glanced up to a similar face glaring at him, clean fingernails tapping against his water bottle.
“I needa clean over where ya’ll sat.” Was all he responded, dragging the overused rag over the spot where the spray was. He glanced over at a nearby stool and noticed an MSBY sweater hanging over it. Someone must’ve forgotten it.
Atsumu wrinkled his nose, “It smells more like a damn hospital than a restaurant.”
He simply huffed, resisting the urge to throw the damp rag at his brother. Despite the teasing words, Osamu could still sense the worry between breaths. The restaurant was quiet; the street lights outside turned on as the night sky appeared, the open sign turned around, the usual bright lights in Onigiri Miya dimmed down.
He rolled his eyes, “Well, hospitals are clean.”
Atsumu, being the awful person he was, slammed his water bottle onto the bar. Osamu prayed (for this twin’s sake) that it wouldn’t leave a mark. “You know, ya don't hafta make this place spotless every night. It's a restaurant, not a fuckin’ surgery room.”
A shrug, “If people are gonna eat here, it better be spotless.” Any remnant of the antiseptic was gone. The rag did actually reek of a surgery room, and Osamu resisted the urge to scowl. If only wiping away the past were as easy as cleaning a damn countertop.
The longer he stared at the piece of cloth, the more Osamu’s chest tightened. The dirty rag began to rearrange its form. Suddenly, it was an apron on a kitchen counter. A kitchen counter full of ingredients and cutlery. Cutlery with two pairs of hands on them. Someone was next to him, humming under his breath with the song playing on his phone.
“‘Samu, pass me the green pepper?” The memory echoed.
“Already? Ya sure ya cut the mushrooms properly?” A pang of nostalgia mixed with regret hit him, which made him tighten his grip on the damp rag.
“My apologies, chef!” The atmosphere in the kitchen felt warm.
A knife was dropped back onto the kitchen counter. Long arms wrapped around his waist, lips on his clothed shoulder, “You can go check ‘em out and make sure.”
“‘S fine,” He muttered back, a light flush on his cheeks, “Thanks for cuttin’ em, Rin-”
“Sunarin's probably forgotten ‘bout cha by now. No need to stress.”
Osamu cleared his voice, rolling his eyes once again at the stupid attempt at a sarcastic joke. He needed to start taking Advil before his brother visited. Just as a precaution.
“Mind yer own business, asshole.” He spat back, eyeing the metal water bottle. It was MSBY-themed. Of course.
“Ya know, I can tell when something’s eatin' at cha, idiot.” Atsumu yawned, scratching at his undercut. The tightening feeling in his chest refused to dissipate. “Spit it out.”
Osamu sighed, the storm of emotions beneath his calm exterior threatening to explode out of him. “Nothin’. Just cleanin’. That’s all.”
Just cleaning, just pushing the memories away.
“I can tell yer thinkin’ all poetically. Stop that! Why won't cha just talk ta me, Samu? It’s about Sunarin, right? So–”
“I don't need ta talk ‘bout it. I just need ta forget.” Osamu pleaded. Yet, Atsumu, persistent as ever, refused to let the subject rest. He threw the rag on the floor, making a mental reminder to throw it out later. He began walking over to the corner of the bar.
“Hey, today’s a special day, ain’t it?” Atsumu pushed. “Five years with Suna.” Atsumu’s reminder hung in the air, a heavy pause following. Osamu’s movements faltered.
“Was.” The word lingered in the air. Osamu paused. The mop now in his hand tightened.
Atsumu twirled the MSBY-themed water bottle in his hand, his gaze fixed on the bar as if searching for answers. “He would’ve loved this place tonight.” He added, “He always liked goin’ out ta restaurants at night. Shame he ain't here.”
Osamu's jaw tightened, his focus intensifying on the task at hand. “Well, he's not here, so let’s not talk about him.”
“Stop actin’ stubborn,” Atsumu countered on the verge of pleading.
“I’m not,” Osamu insisted, his eyes avoiding Atsumu’s probing gaze.
Atsumu sighed, leaning forward slightly. “Ya are. I hate seein’ ya like this, Samu. Lemme help.”
The air between them grew heavy, and Osamu felt the weight of his brother’s concern pressing against the barricade he'd built around his heart when it came to Rin. His hands clenched around the mop.
“I don’t need help. I needa move on,” He muttered, the words trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “Ya couldn’t do anythin’ in the first place. I need ta move on. And apparently, so do ya.”
Atsumu’s expression tightened, the frustration and helplessness etched across his face. “Fine.” He spat back, hating the defeat in his tone, “But, I’m still here for ya, even if ya don’t wanna talk.”
For a moment, the rigid lines in Osamu’s features softened. “Thanks, Tsumu. I’ll be fine.” The access was acknowledged with a nod, a silent thanks for the lifeline Atsumu offered, even if he wasn’t ready to fully grab onto it.
Atsumu sighed. “I gotta head to practice early tomorrow. Take care of yerself, alright?” He began packing up, his eyes lingering on Osamu.
“Yeah, yeah. Go be a star on the court or somethin’.” Osamu’s response was gruff. He glanced back down at the floor, watching the mop sweep across the floor.
As Atsumu continued to gather his belongings, clearly unable to shake the concern for his brother. “Call me if ya need anythin’, Osamu. Seriously. I love ya.”
As Atsumu took one step towards the door, Osamu felt a slight regret pinch him in his stomach for not opening up. But despite it, he maintained his guard. “I won’t. I love ya too. Just go.”
The door closed quietly behind Atsumu with the ring of a bell, leaving Osamu alone in the dimly lit space.
Osamu’s grip on the mop tightened, his knuckles turning white as he scrubbed vigorously at the floor. The worn handle dug into the calloused skin of his palms. The rhythmic sound of the mop slapping against the floor became a relentless echo, a sound with the tightening of his chest, which stubbornly remained.
Everything about him was awfully stubborn.
He hated it.
Thankfully, the physical exertion was a decent release for the pent-up frustration.
Internally, Osamu repeated a mantra, the words a whispered plea to himself.
“Move on.”
“Just move on.”
“Please.”
The antiseptic smell permeated the air, seeping into his pores, a constant reminder of the need to rid himself of whatever the fuck was going on inside. The acrid scent mingled with the restaurant’s silence.
Osamu just wanted to go to bed.
As he maneuvered through the dimly lit restaurant, his back ached. His hands were dry. The refrigerator in the back continued to quietly hum.
He passed by the fridge and saw the calendar stuck to it. The date leaped out at him, an anniversary he wouldn’t be able to celebrate, even if he wanted to. His movements became more mechanical and rigid.
The doorbell interrupted the quiet, signalling someone’s entrance.
Osamu’s irritation spiked, anticipating Atsumu’s lingering presence. He knew he should’ve locked the door once he left.
A conflicted emotion wrestled within him; he mourned for his brother’s presence, yet a part of him wanted anyone but Rin. Because Atsumu kept reminding him of Rin, and the reminder was a relentless ache that refused to fade.
He hated it.
He hated this.
“Tsumu, get out!” Osamu called out, his voice cutting through the quiet space, expecting the usual argument to follow.
However, the silence that followed made goosebumps rise down his back.
Osamu released his grip on the mop, its bristles now abandoned on the floor, as he slowly made his way out from behind the onigiri bar.
His brows furrowed as he waited for a response. He opened the small door and walked onto the customer floor, his steps cautious and deliberate.
He really wished he had locked the door.
He braced himself once again for Atsumu’s retort but was met with an unusual and profound silence. The air hung heavy with the silence, and Osamu’s unease deepened, an unsettling feeling settling in the pit of his stomach, which did nothing to appease the tightening in his chest.
Osamu frowned. He scanned the dimly lit space, searching for any sign of his brother, but the quiet persisted.
When he finally looked down, the sight awaiting him was not his brother.
It was a German Shepherd.
Osamu came to a pause, looking down confused. “Uh, hi?” He stammered dumbly, his eyes fixed on the canine before him.
The dog, as if just realizing Osamu’s presence, perked its ears up and back, entering a defensive stance. The sudden change in posture made him freeze, realizing that any sudden movement might scare the fragile creature even more.
Osamu stopped moving, holding his hands up in a gesture of non-threat. Slowly, he lowered himself, attempting to catch a better look at the animal. The German Shepherd’s fur, longer than most, hinted at its time on the streets. Its size suggested a younger age, and its thin and weak form tugged at Osamu’s heartstrings, making his chest tighten painfully. No one deserved to be starved of food.
It was a small, frail creature, clearly scared in the unfamiliar surroundings of the restaurant, but it was probably drawn in by the lights. Osamu felt a surge of empathy.
He didn’t know much about caring for dogs, but there was someone who did.
His chest remained tight, not just from the unexpected visitor but also from the flood of memories and emotions that the sight of the dog stirred within him.
He didn’t know much about caring for dogs.
But he knew someone who did.
His chest was still tight.
The room held a soft warmth as the dog curled up on Rin’s lap on the floor, still casting wary glances around the unfamiliar surroundings with its big brown eyes. Osamu’s gaze lingered on the scene, the fragile creature and Rin’s gentle demeanour striking a chord within him.
“Sorry fer callin’ ya down so late,” Osamu muttered, his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. The floor was cold against his butt.
Rin’s smile remained gentle, a reassurance that extended beyond the furry presence in his lap. He ran a soft hand through the dog’s too-long fur, a comforting gesture that seemed to soothe both the animal and the tightness in Osamu’s chest. “It’s okay,” Rin replied, his attention shifting between the dog and Osamu. “He was worth the short trip here, right, bud?” He leaned down, pressing a brief peck against the dog’s head.
Osamu nodded, a strange mix of emotions settling within him. “Yeah. A he, huh?” He refused to be jealous of a dog.
Rin chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving the dog. “Yeah, a boy. I can’t believe he pushed the door open himself. Poor guy.” He cooed quietly.
As Rin spoke, Osamu couldn’t help but notice the tenderness in his voice. Dogs had an odd way of bringing out this softer side in him, a fact that Osamu was intimately familiar with. He didn’t want to think about the other reasons behind those rare moments of vulnerability.
“I’m not surprised ya still got all that dog gear on ya,” Osamu remarked, attempting a lighter tone.
“I’ve been wanting one for a while. I also picked some stuff up on the way,” Rin explained, his attention shifting back to Osamu.
“Thank you,” Osamu said a bit too quickly. The vulnerability of sitting on the floor of his restaurant with his ex-boyfriend on the day of their anniversary caught him off guard, unsurprisingly.
“For?” Rin inquired, his eyes searching Osamu’s. He looked comfortable in his hoodie and sweatpants.
Osamu took a moment to collect himself, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue. “Fer bein’ here. I woulda freaked out if it weren’t fer ya.”
“You know I got your back,” Rin reassured, his gaze steady. “Nice place you got here, by the way,” He added, his tone shifting slightly. Osamu wondered if Rin knew what day it was. He didn’t want to ask.
“Thanks,” And suddenly the tightness returned. He didn’t want to talk about the restaurant, not after what it caused. Not after the arguments, the yelling, the fucking breakup. His chest tightened. “I, uh… I, I remember yer parents use ta have dogs ‘round,” Osamu remarked quickly, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his beating heart. “Even in retirement, right?”
Rin nodded. If he noticed the conversation change, he didn’t show it. “Yeah, they love having them around. My sister’s looking to foster one now that she's got her own place.”
Osamu’s gaze drifted back to the small dog nestled on Rin’s lap. He seemed a bit tired.
A shadow of longing crossed Osamu’s face, “I wanted a dog when I was younger. But Ma was allergic, so it was never an option. Tsumu n’ I used ta play with the street dogs, hopin’ one of ‘em would follow us home.”
Rin’s expression softened, “I guess… life has a stupid way of bringing things full circle,” He mused, his hand still gently stroking the dog’s fur.
Osamu’s gaze shifted from the dog back to Rin, the vulnerability of the moment hanging in the air. The tightness in his chest persisted in the unspoken words that hovered on the edge of his tongue. He took a moment to collect himself.
“Yeah,” Osamu finally replied, his voice softly acknowledging Rin’s words. "Full circle, huh?”
The dog, seemingly attuned to the subtle shifts in the room, raised his head and nuzzled against the middle blocker’s hand. It was as if the canine understood the unspoken conversation between the two men, offering a silent comfort. Rin opened up his hand, revealing a treat as the dog yipped excitedly and ate it quickly.
A brief silence settled between them. Osamu hesitated, his gaze flickering between Rin and the dog.
Rin, sensing Osamu’s internal struggle, offered a small, reassuring smile. “You’ve made something real good here,” He said, his words carrying a gentle encouragement. “You know… Despite everything.”
Dark grey eyes softened. He met his gaze. “Thanks, Rin. Means a lot comin' from ya.”
Rin’s smile deepened, and for a moment, the weight of unspoken words lifted. “You’ve always had a weird knack for turning shit around, even in the toughest times.”
“Yeah, well,” Osamu started, a small, self-deprecating smirk appearing on his face, “I can be stubborn like that.”
Rin chuckled, the sound echoing through the quiet restaurant. “Stubbornness is a good trait sometimes, ‘specially for you. Helps you push through when everything seems to be falling apart.” A light flush appeared in the dark lights. “It’s a good look on you.”
Osamu suddenly appreciated the distraction the dog offered. “Guess life’s got its own way of givin’ ya unexpected things.”
Rin nodded, the subtle understanding continuing to pass between them like a shared secret. “And sometimes, I guess… it just… brings you back to places you never thought you'd be.” Golden eyes took a quick glance around the place.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” Osamu admitted, his gaze fixed on a distant point. “Not after… all that.”
Rin’s expression softened, a mixture of regret and understanding in his eyes. “Honestly, I didn't expect to be here either.”
A pause hung in the air. The stray dog shifted on Rin’s lap, a reminder that he was there, too.
“Maybe this is a chance to start new,” Rin suggested, his voice carrying a note of hope. “For both of us.”
Osamu’s eyes met Rin’s once again, and everything lay bare. The dog, as if sensing the moment, let out a contented sigh, breaking the silence.
“Looks like he approves,” Rin teased, his tone lightening the atmosphere.
Osamu chuckled, a genuine warmth reaching his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, seems like it.”
Rin suddenly coughed harshly before letting out a shaky breath, “Sorry for leaving you when times were tough. You didn’t… I mean, I should’ve tried-” His voice cracked, letting his head drop.
“Don’t.” Osamu breathed out, “I gave up on us, too. It’s on me.” He responded immediately.
The dog whined, wanting more attention. Rin laughed gently, his eyes seeming to be brimming with tears. The gentle timbre of Rin’s laughter resonated, echoing through the empty restaurant once again.
Carefully, Osamu raised a hand, his thumb catching under his eyes and wiping a tear away. “Don’t cry in front of our child.” He muttered softly, smiling.
Another laugh, but more genuine. It was so heartwarmingly familiar. “Sorry, sorry. Uh, yeah, we should probably name him, right?” Rin’s eyes sparkled with a newfound lightness.
Osamu nodded, letting his hand fall slowly. He slid closer to him, trying not to get emotional over the fact that Rin still smelled the same. “Ya can choose, I don’t mind.”
“Hmm,” He seemed to be thinking hard, the dim lights reflecting off his contemplative expression, “How about Doorbell?”
“... Doorbell?” Osamu’s eyebrow raised. Unfortunately, the pup seemed to lift his head at the sound. A traitor already.
“Yeah! Cuz he… you know.” His golden eyes twinkled with amusement. Osamu wanted to kiss him.
“That’s so stupid… But I kinda love y- it. I love it. Good, uh, good name.” He panicked, trying to calm his pitter-pattering heart. His laughter mingled with Rin’s, and he never thought he would hear the sound so soon.
After a bit, Rin leaned closer to him, biting his bottom lip, “I’m glad.”
Osamu’s chest tightened, but not in a bad way. Doorbell was completely tuckered out, his small brown face resting on Rin’s thigh as he blinked slowly.
“Rin,” Osamu began with slight hesitation, “Ya don’t got practice tomorrow, right?”
He shook his head no. Golden eyes twinkled and seemed to yell so many words at him. He was hoping, begging for him to continue. To ask. To try. Because he wanted to try again. He really, really wanted to.
“Do ya wanna stay over?” He said quickly, “Um, we could go to the vet and get Doorbell checked out in the mornin’. If ya want, of course.”
“I’d love that.” It was so awfully soft.
“Yeah, I’d love that too.” Osamu couldn’t help but glance down at Rin’s parted lips.
I still love you.
I still love you too.
Doorbell's snores began to echo through the room as Osamu leaned in, brushing his lips against Rin’s. The dim lights in the restaurant seemed to glow brighter.