Work Text:
fletching
noun
fletch·ing ˈfle-chiŋ
: the feathers on an arrow
also : the arrangement of such feathers
“Want to go to the library to study together?”
Sakusa Kiyoomi’s voice cut through the quiet of the dorm room, a familiar calm in his tone, the kind that hinted this was just another thing they always did together.
Atsumu Miya, however, was already fiddling with his archery gear, the sound of arrows rolling in the case as he picked them up and set them aside. “Nah, I’ve gotta fix my arrows,” he muttered distractedly while getting something from his drawer.
Sakusa raised an eyebrow. “Fix? They broke? What did you do to them?”
Atsumu sighed, slumping slightly. “I’ve got to fletch my arrows. The fletches need to be done before the tournament. They’re mostly torn right now.”
“Fletch them?” Sakusa repeated, frowning slightly in confusion.
“Yeah,” Atsumu groaned, dropping a set of yellow feathers onto the table. “It’s a boring task, but I’ve got no choice. If I don’t get them done, my arrows won’t fly right.” He picked up a bare arrow shaft and eyed it thoughtfully. “But man, it’s such a hassle.”
Sakusa tilted his head, intrigued. “What’s so important about those little fletches, anyway?”
Atsumu leaned back, letting out a short laugh. “Have you ever seen a plane fly without wings, Omi? Same thing with arrows. Without fletches, they don’t have stability. They fly wildly, wobble, lose direction, and just crash.” He twirled the shaft in his fingers, his voice softening. “The fletches, they’re like wings. They make sure everything stays steady and ideally hit bullseye.”
Sakusa, still intrigued, walked over to the table, examining the setup. “What’s that? What exactly is it that you have to do?”
Atsumu grinned, glad to have an opportunity to explain something to Sakusa. “Alright, let me show you.”
He grabbed his busted arrows and laid them out. “So first thing’s first, you’ve got to pick your colors for the fletches. Colors that are easy to see through a scope. That’s why you’d usually see neon or bright fletches. Next, you’re gonna want them ‘ta be lined up in a specific way. It’s not just about looking pretty. It’s about balance and aerodynamics.”
Sakusa raised an eyebrow, not really interested in the color choice, but Atsumu's enthusiasm made him want to pay attention. “Do you still have green like last time?,” he said, almost without thinking. “Red arrows look kinda meh.”
Atsumu laughed, but when he looked at his supplies, his face fell. “Well, guess what? All I’ve got are yellow ones.” He tossed the pack onto the table with a sigh.
Sakusa suppressed a smile at the sudden change in mood. They looked more gold. “Yellow’s fine,” he said with a shrug. “As long as it works.”
Atsumu got to work, lining up the first shaft and marking it with a silver Sharpie. “Alright, Omi-omi. First, you need to mark your arrow. You need three lines: one for the nock, one for the left wing, and one for the right wing. You have to get the fletches in the right position, or they won’t fly straight.”
Sakusa nodded attentively as he grabbed a second arrow and carefully drew the lines Atsumu had described. “Got it,” he said, following Atsumu’s instructions.
Atsumu turned his attention to the next step, pulling out a pair of incredulously large scissors. He gingerly picked up a strip of double-sided tape and set it on the edge of the table, eyes narrowing as he focused on the arrow. “Now comes the tricky part. You need to cut this tape precisely, thinner than you’d think, just enough to fit on the side of the line you drew on the bare arrow shaft and stick it in place without making a mess.”
Sakusa watched intently as Atsumu’s steady slender fingers, gripping the scissors. The blades snipped through the tape in practiced movements, yet Sakusa could still see the careful attention required to cut it to the exact size needed. After a few quick snips, Atsumu handed the scissors to Sakusa. “Your turn,” he said, holding out a fresh strip of tape.
Sakusa hesitated for a moment before taking the scissors. He clumsily cut the tape, trying to match Atsumu’s exacting standards. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. The tape was thinner than he expected, and any mistake would be disastrous. “This... takes a while, doesn’t it?” he asked, almost incredulously.
Atsumu glanced over at him, eyes gleaming with a rare intensity. “Yeah, it does. But I’ve been doing this for years. It’s just second nature to me now.” He smiled faintly. “If I’m not distracted, I can finish it in about forty minutes, no sweat. But it’s all about focus and getting it right. You mess up, and your arrow won’t fly straight, and that’s the last thing you want, especially in a tournament.”
Sakusa couldn’t help but be surprised at how time-consuming the task was. It felt so intricate, so delicate. He had never given much thought to the small details that went into making an arrow work the way it did. “I didn’t realize it was this much work...”
Atsumu shrugged. “It’s not that bad. You get used to it. It’s just one of those things that takes time. And, hey, I’ve got my rhythm down. It is what it is.”
Once the tape was in place, Atsumu moved to the next step and removed the white side of the double sided tape. He took the plastic fletch carefully and positioned it over the arrow shaft, making sure it was aligned with the lines Sakusa had drawn earlier.
Atsumu then stepped behind Sakusa, his presence shifting from casual to focused. He gently placed his hands over Sakusa’s, guiding them into the right position. “Hold it like this,” Atsumu said softly, his voice close. Sakusa could feel the heat of Atsumu’s chest against his back, the pressure of his hands as they steadied his. “You have to make sure it’s perfectly aligned. If you rush, it’ll be off, and the flight’s all messed up.”
Sakusa’s heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t move, letting Atsumu’s steady hands guide his own. The sudden closeness was disorienting, but the calm focus in Atsumu’s voice made him focus more on the task than anything else. He didn’t think Atsumu would have such a presence when teaching something so seemingly simple. Quite the contrary to how the usual Atsumu is that Sakusa knows.
After a few seconds, Atsumu stepped back, giving him space to work. “Now, you attach the fletch like this,” he said, watching Sakusa carefully. “Not too hard, just enough pressure. You want it to stick, but you don’t want to bend the plastic of the fletch. Take your time.”
Sakusa nodded, his mind still reeling from the sudden physical proximity, but focusing now solely on the task at hand. Each movement became more deliberate, each placement more precise.
Atsumu’s voice was softer now, but still filled with that same quiet intensity. “The fletch’s placement is everything. You can’t afford to get it wrong.”
Once the fletch was attached, Atsumu moved to the final step, wrapping the black tape around the base to lock every fletch into place. “This part’s easy,” he said, more relaxed. “But it’s just as important as everything else. If you don’t do it right, the fletch can come loose.”
Sakusa followed suit, his fingers steady as he wrapped the tape. As he finished, he looked up at Atsumu, who was already picking up the next arrow. “That wasn’t as hard as I thought,” he said. “But it’s still a lot of work for just one arrow.”
Atsumu grinned. “Yeah, it’s tedious. But once you get the hang of it, it’s just part of the process. And trust me, when I’m done with all my arrows, it feels pretty damn satisfying.”
After a few sessions, Sakusa had become much more adept at fletching the arrows. Atsumu didn’t have to guide his hands anymore. They were working side by side, both absorbed in the rhythm of the task.
As the process went on, Sakusa looked up at Atsumu, who was snipping another strip of tape with ease. “Hey,” Sakusa spoke up, his voice a little more relaxed now that he had some confidence in his own abilities. “Do you mind if we play some music?”
Atsumu, who had been focused on the arrow, paused and then grinned. “Sure, I’ll bring it up.” He pulled out his sierra blue iPhone 13 Pro Max from his pocket and handed it over to Sakusa. “You can choose something,” he said.
Sakusa raised an eyebrow as he accepted the phone. Already unlocked to Spotify, and his eyes immediately landed on the recently searched section. To his surprise, the recent search list was filled with purely Eminem songs. “Eminem?” Sakusa raised an eyebrow.
Atsumu scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah... Bokuto and Shouyo were messing with my Spotify while we were training. They’re obsessed with him lately, so now it’s all Eminem tracks. I don’t even remember half of these songs.”
Sakusa chuckled quietly, then shifted through the tracks and saw an intriguing option. “How about this?” He picked 斜陽 by Yorushika and hit play.
Atsumu gave a satisfied nod. “Nice choice.”
Sakusa knows that’s the new release of Atsumu’s favorite artist.
As the soft melody of the song began to fill the room, Sakusa reached for the grey Jellycat penguin — Nugget, Atsumu’s penguin — and tucked it under his arm. The stuffed animal pressed against his side, subtly stabilizing his hand and helping him focus as he continued fletching the arrows.
He worked silently for a few minutes, the music lulling him into a steady rhythm. The peace between them felt almost complete — the steady snip of scissors, the rhythm of fletching, and the soft hum of music filling the space. Atsumu’s patience wasn’t just steady; it was soothing, like the song’s soft refrain. It didn’t just guide—it calmed, like a balm for the mundane. His patience wasn’t fleeting; it lingered like a gentle hum, turning every task into something that felt whole, felt done.
When they finally finished, Atsumu leaned back and stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh. He gave Sakusa a look, his eyes a mix of quiet triumph and something else, something unspoken. Without a word, he reached out and took Omi’s hand, his fingers warm and certain as they brushed against his. With a gentle, deliberate movement, Atsumu pressed a soft kiss to the back of Sakusa’s hand, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary.
Atsumu’s gaze flicked up to meet his, a mischievous yet unguarded glint in his eyes. “These are the hands that fletched my arrows. Thank you Omi,” Atsumu murmured, his grin playful but his tone unshakably sincere.
Sakusa, caught off guard, felt the moment sink into him, the weight of Atsumu’s quiet affection hanging in the air between them. For all the chaos outside, in this small moment, there was nothing but peace.