Chapter Text
Sawamura Daichi sighed through his nose as another irritable shopper bumped against him in the busy store. He closed his eyes and recited the mantra that had been in his brain on repeat since he entered Nekoma's.
I like this girl a lot. I am doing this for her. I like this girl a lot. I am doing this for her. I like thi-
Someone else knocked into his shoulder, hard. Daichi glared at the woman, who scowled back at him. He could feel a vein pulsing in his temple.
Nekoma's, a high end department store in Tokyo, was holding a massive, store-wide blowout sale. When Daichi had heard about it from his roommate's latest fling, he figured it would be a great opportunity to get a gift for the girl he was seeing. They hadn't been together long - they hadn't even put a label on their relationship yet - but he really liked her and wanted to get her something nice.
After being pushed around by too many aggressive moms, Daichi regretted everything. With dead eyes, he watched two women nearly get in a fist fight over a pair of boots that were 80% off. That did it for him. Sawamura out.
He set off briskly towards the exit when he saw the gloves. They were quite nice, and the sign proclaiming them 50% off was nicer. They were perfect, and there was only one pair left. Daichi made a sharp turn, cutting off a woman who squawked in indignation. With determination not unlike a cat stalking prey, Daichi grabbed them.
Unfortunately, someone else did too.
Daichi blinked in surprise as his tunnel vision zoomed back out and he realized he was not the only person who was holding the gloves. Another man blinked back at him, likewise surprised.
"I'm so sorry," he said, smiling. "It's crazy in here! I was so focused on getting what I wanted and getting out I hadn't even realized you grabbed them!" The man's wide, hazel eyes crinkled when he smiled again. Daichi was speechless for all of one second until he realized the other man was making to leave.
"Now hang on," he said. The other man turned back around, the fluorescent light flickering over his silver hair. Daichi made the objective observation that he was quite attractive, and the subjective observation that it was entirely unfair of him to be that attractive in such a terrible atmosphere.
"We grabbed these at the exact same time," Daichi reasoned. "It's only fair that we both have an equal chance of having these gloves."
"How do you propose that?" the man said, smiling bemusedly. Daichi flagged down a passing attendant.
"Excuse me, do you have another pair of these gloves anywhere?" he asked politely. The attendant looked like she was fighting against rolling her eyes.
"No, I'm sorry sir, everything we have is on the display," she said. It was probably the same thing she'd been reciting all day.
"Do you have an extra storeroom? A basement?" Daichi pleaded.
"No, we don't, sir." She smiled forcefully. "We do not have space for extra stock - which, as I'm sure you're aware, is the sole reason for our store relocation and today's sale. Now, if you'll excuse me." The attendant left before Daichi could say anything else. Daichi felt a little guilty because the poor woman had probably been harassed too much throughout the day, but he was mostly disappointed. He had hoped there would be another pair of the gloves for the man.
"Ah, well it was worth a shot," the man said. Daichi hummed in agreement.
"Well, I'd like you to have these," Daichi said, making the decision. The man's mouth fell open slightly.
"I can't do that!" he said, eyebrows furrowing slightly. Daichi grinned.
"Sure you can. I'm not going to take them," he said, replacing them on the shelf. "So they're all yours." A smile spread over the man's face, and Daichi couldn't help but think about how pretty it was.
"Ooh!" A hand shot between their two bodies and snatched the gloves off the shelf. Daichi's face dropped in shock. An elderly woman with beady eyes looked at the gloves in her hands gleefully.
"You can't have those!" Daichi cried out, grabbing hold of one of the gloves without thinking. The woman's sharp gaze locked onto him and Daichi resisted a shiver. He gave her his best glare in return.
"And why not?" she snapped.
"Because they're ours!" Daichi said, glancing over the other man, who was biting his bottom lip ferociously, the corners of his eyes scrunching up.
"Oh really?" the woman sneered. "Who are they for?"
"My girlfriend," Daichi growled, at the exact same time the other man piped in, "My boyfriend!"
"His boyfriend," Daichi corrected, as the other man said, "His girlfriend." Daichi shot the other man a look.
"Our... boyfriend and girlfriend," he finally settled on.
"Uh huh," the woman said dubiously. "And how exactly does that work?"
"That is a very good question," Daichi said slowly, hoping his voice wouldn't crack. He cast a meaningful glare to the man, who stared incredulously back.
"We are in a polyamorous relationship," he said, without breaking eye contact with Daichi. "Our third partner is genderfluid, and often refers to themself as either a girl or a boy." Daichi felt his eyebrows creep up in surprise, before he schooled his expression into what he hoped was appropriate.
The woman gave an experimental little tug of the gloves, but Daichi held firm.
"Fine! Take them," she said, rolling her eyes magnificently and walking away, muttering something about 'kids these days.' Daichi met the man's eyes once again, before bursting out into laughter.
"That was magnificently quick thinking," he praised the man after catching his breath. "How did you come up with that?" The man grinned at him.
"I'm taking a course on gender and sexuality right now," he explained. "It's actually really interesting, but I didn't think it would be practical knowledge that I would use in my day-to-day life."
"I'm glad I could help," Daichi chuckled. "And to reward your save, I would like to give you these." He held out the gloves to the man.
"No, I can't!" he immediately protested. Daichi took his wrist and pressed the gloves into his hand.
"I insist," Daichi said. "I really don't need them that much." The man's hand was warm against his. For a moment, they watched each other, both unwavering, and then the man finally relaxed, taking the gloves.
"Thank you," he murmured, smiling softly. "Isn't there any way I can repay you?" Daichi grinned.
"Do you like coffee?"
---
Daichi frowned at the monstrosity in front of him.
"I don't really think this counts as coffee," he said lightly. "It's more like dessert." The man leveled a stare at him from across his own pile of whipped cream.
"It's delicious," he said. "Also, I'm paying, so hush up and drink your dessert."
Daichi opened his mouth to protest, but the man cut him off.
"Ah, no, don't even think about it. It's a thank you for letting me have the gloves." Daichi squinted at him, but the man seemed resolute.
"I suppose that's fair," Daichi conceded. "After all, I do have to go out and find a new gift for my girlfriend."
"These were for your girlfriend?" the man cried, looking aghast. "I can't keep them now!"
"You have to," Daichi laughed. "Otherwise this won't be your treat." The man's eyes flickered, searching for something in Daichi's face, before he slumped down in his seat.
"Ugh, you're impossible," he finally said, bemused.
"Yes," Daichi agreed. He took a sip of his coffee, and then moaned in delight.
"This is amazing," he gasped. The man smirked, raising an eyebrow at his enthusiasm. "I don't normally have much of a sweet tooth, but this is incredible. How on earth did you find this place?" The man tilted his head to the side, tapping a finger on his chin.
"It was the English name that drew me in first," he said. "Serendipity Cafe - it's such a nice word, serendipity, and it's actually one of my favourites."
"Why?" Daichi asked, genuinely curious.
"It means 'a fortunate accident,' and I just feel like there's something really beautiful about that. Mind you, I don't really believe in accidents," the man admitted. "I believe that fate is behind everything." Daichi couldn't help but be a little skeptical.
"Oh?" he asked. "Fate, predestiny, everything is already laid out for us? We don't have any choice in anything at all?" The man frowned a little, considering.
"I think we make our own decisions," he said finally. "Fate is just there to give us signs, to point us in the right direction to the choice that will make us happiest."
"Signs from the universe," Daichi mused. "Fortunate accidents. Like Christopher Columbus accidentally discovering the Americas when trying to reach here."
"You're getting it," the man looked delighted. "Like that scientist who discovered penicillin."
"Fleming," Daichi told him, then quirked an eyebrow. "Like Daichi and the gloves." The man pressed his lips together, fighting a smile.
"I don't think I know that one."
"You don't? Let me sum up," Daichi said. "Our hero, Daichi, goes out in search of a gift and finds a perfect pair of black gloves. Only, a fortunate accident occurs and he also comes across a lovely, attractive young man... with a boyfriend?" The man looked down before flicking his eyes back to meet Daichi's.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Boyfriend. And you have a girlfriend? The one the gloves were for?"
"Well," Daichi amended. "Sort of. We're not really official yet, but yeah. It's pretty much there." The man nodded a little awkwardly, but smiled. Daichi returned the smile. "Okay," he said.
---
It was dark by the time they left Serendipity Cafe. Daichi's arm brushed against the man's and he told himself the shiver was from the chilly evening air.
"I hope you enjoy those gloves," he said, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence. "It wouldn't be my go-to gift for a boyfriend, but hey, you probably know yours better than I do." The man smiled cheekily.
"And what would you suggest?"
"Well," Daichi said, feeling a little bolder. "If I were your boyfriend, I'd want you to get me golf clubs."
"Golf clubs?" the man smirked, hailing a taxi.
"Yeah," Daichi said. "Hey, you should give me your number," he added, before he lost his nerve.
"You think so?" the man asked, the taxi pulling up to the curb.
"Yeah!" Daichi said, a touch too enthusiastically. "I mean, I had a great time tonight, and you are very attractive, so yeah. We should exchange numbers in case."
"In case?"
"In case of life, y'know? What if I want to do this again, but I have no way to find you?"
"Then if we're meant to meet again, we'll meet again," the man said, simply. He gave Daichi a small smile. "It's just not the right moment, right now."
"Oh, come on," Daichi said. "Everything fit together! Fortunate accident, right?"
The man laughed, looking down at his feet.
"I don't even know your name," Daichi said softly. The man's eyes flitted back up to his. "Let's start from the beginning. I'm Daichi." His eyes searched the warm hazel of the other man's. "What's your name?"
"Goodnight Daichi," the man said. He leaned in, and gave Daichi a soft kiss on the cheek. In the stunned silence that followed, he got into the cab and drove away into the night.
Daichi's hand floated up to his cheek, where he could still feel the warmth from the man's soft lips. He blinked a couple times.
"Are you trying to drive me insane?" he bellowed at the retreating headlights. A couple walking hand in hand jumped, looking nervously towards him.
"I'm so sorry," Daichi said, holding out his hands in what he hoped was a non-threatening manner. The couple hastily kept going.
Daichi let his breath out heavily. There was no point in hanging around on the street, waiting to catch a chill. He made his way to the closest metro station, shivering as a cold wind whipped through him. He burrowed into his light jacket a little deeper, and went to wrap his scarf around himself.
There was no scarf hanging off his shoulders.
"Of course," he huffed to himself.
It seemed colder on the walk back to Serendipity Cafe, possibly because the silver-haired man was no longer beside him. (Other potentials included the lack of scarf and wind that cropped up, Daichi reasoned.) He was grateful for the warmth when he entered the cafe, and quickly caught the attention of a server.
"Excuse me, did anyone happen to return a scarf here?"
"No, but you're welcome to check upstairs," she said kindly.
Daichi took the steps two at a time, rounding the corner to where he had been sitting. He stopped short at the sight of the man, holding the bag from Nekoma's and Daichi's scarf. They blinked, surprised by each other for the second time.
The man walked up to him, holding out Daichi's scarf. Daichi huffed out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Hello again," he said.
"Hi," the man replied. He wrapped the scarf around Daichi's neck, thumb barely brushing against his skin. He looked up, ever so slightly, into Daichi's eyes and shrugged, a small smile creeping up on his lips. Daichi swallowed.
"Come do something with me," he said, hoping he didn't sound as breathless as he felt.
"What do you want to do?"
"Anything." Daichi definitely sounded breathless.
The man gave him a coy smile.
---
"I'll have you know, I haven't done this since I was a kid," Daichi protested, wobbling along on his skates. Beside him, the man pushed himself along with smooth, graceful strokes.
"Don't be silly," he admonished. "You're doing great."
"Says the guy who looks like he was born to skate," Daichi huffed. "How did you learn to skate so well?"
"My mom," the man said, smile turning fond. "I haven't seen her in forever."
"You're not from Tokyo originally?"
"Nope. I'm actually just finishing school here. You?"
"Born and raised. What do you miss most about your hometown?"
"Mmm, home-cooked meals," the man grinned. "No one makes mapo tofu as spicy as my mom does. Favourite movie?"
"Top Gun. It's an old American movie, have you seen it?"
"Of course I've seen it," the man scoffed. "It's terrible." Daichi rolled his eyes.
"What is your favourite Tokyo moment?" he asked.
"This one's pretty high up there," the man said, blushing slightly. "Favourite sex position?" he shot back, his demure countenance gone in a second.
Daichi choked on his spit as the man grinned deviously at him.
"You can't just ask that," he protested, face red.
"Sure I can!" he said, skating back away from Daichi. His eyes twinkled mischievously. "My favourite sex position is-"
His feet went out from under him and he fell on the ice, bashing his elbow off it. Daichi winced.
"Are you okay?" he called as he carefully skated over. The man sat up, wincing.
"That's what I get for trying to be smooth," he groaned, rubbing his arm and allowing Daichi to pull him up. Daichi grinned at him.
"You flatter me," he said. "But seriously, is your arm okay?"
The man groaned as Daichi tugged up the sleeve of his sweater.
"The good news is you probably won't have to amputate it," Daichi teased. "But it is a little banged up so you're going to be sore for a couple days. And I can help you get a bandage on the scrapes."
"My hero," the man gasped, pressing his good arm to his chest as he allowed Daichi to lead them over to the benches.
After taking off their skates and collecting their jackets, Daichi led them up to a bend in the park that overlooked the outdoor rink. Snow began to drift down around them softly.
"You know," Daichi said, as he smoothed the bandage over the scrape. "You have an awful lot of freckles."
"Really?" the man quipped. "I never noticed." Daichi laughed.
"You know what I meant," he said.
"Yeah," the man said. "I get them from my dad's side of the family. We all have these moles - they've been passed down through generations. It's our curse," he sighed.
"I think they're great," Daichi said. His finger traced the lines that would connect the freckles, before frowning.
"Is something wrong?" the man asked. Daichi traced his finger over them again, before looking up in delight.
"No," he breathed. "This is Cassiopeia."
"I really hope that's not some disease," the man said grimly.
"It's a constellation," Daichi said, laughing. "Here." He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and found the pen he always kept there. He gently traced the lines between the freckles on the man's arm, making the simple constellation appear in dark strokes.
"The story was that in Ancient Greek times, there was this queen, named Cassiopeia, who was very beautiful and very vain. At some point, she made one simple mistake and offended the gods. Poseidon punished her by hanging her upside down on her throne in the skies, for eternity. And her constellation is still there today," he finished, recapping the pen. "Just like your freckles, passed down through generations." Daichi looked up, mouth going dry and how close he had gotten to the other man. "She made one tragic mistake," he said, swallowing.
"And paid for eternity," the other man breathed. He smelled like cinnamon.
Daichi smiled softly, and leaned back a little. His hand came up and brushed a snowflake from the man's hair. The man puffed out a little bit of air, eyes never leaving Daichi's.
Daichi leaned forward and pressed his lips to the man's arm, right over where it was starting to bruise.
---
"I can't believe I'm doing this," the man said. "I don't know how you convinced me."
"Please," Daichi laughed. "It's fate that you would fall for my natural charm." The man rolled his eyes, but smirked.
"Here," he said, holding out the phone number written on a scrap of paper.
"Thank you," Daichi said primly, going to grab it.
A delivery van barreled past them, stirring up the snowflakes in the air, and yanking the number from between their fingertips.
"No!" Daichi yelled, whirling around, trying to catch the number before it was gone. He spun back to the man, whose face was as serious as Daichi had ever seen it. "That didn't mean anything," he said. "Please give me your number again!"
"I can't," the man said, walking past Daichi, who turned again to keep up. "That was clearly a sign from fate," the man reasoned. "Fate's telling us there's a reason we shouldn't be together."
"But if there's a reason we shouldn't be together," Daichi reasoned, "why did we run into each other again?" The man's brow furrowed.
"I don't know!" he said. "It's not like it's math, or science, or something where there's a perfect answer. It's just a feeling!"
"What if you're wrong though," Daichi pleaded. "What if it's all in our hands, but we walk away without telling each other our names, or our numbers, and then we never see each other again?" The man tapped his fingers against his lips, before his eyes lit up and he pointed at Daichi.
"Let's take it out of our hands, then."
"What?"
The man rummaged around in his bag before pulling out a pink pen and a 1000 yen note.
"Here," he said, a little breathlessly. "Write your name and number on this." Daichi looked down at the money, and then back up at the man, who nodded encouragingly. He scrawled down the information, and handed them back to the man who was nearly bouncing with excitement.
"Perfect. Wait here," he said, and then ran across the street to a vendor, narrowly avoiding a guy on a bike.
"What are you doing?" Daichi hollered, watching the man buy a pack of gum with the yen that he just wrote his number down on. After getting his change, the man winked and gave him a little wave, before walking away.
Daichi stood frozen for three seconds, trying to figure out what just happened, before racing after the man with a wordless cry. He ignored the honk from the car that almost ran into him, only focusing on the silver head that was waltzing away.
"You can't just do that," he wheezed, once he caught up.
"And why not?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow. "When that 1000 yen note makes its way back into my hands, I'll be able to call you. Fate will take care of it. And when you hear me talking on your phone, you'll know it worked out just like it's supposed to." He turned away again and kept walking. Daichi stared at him, before trailing after him doggedly.
"At least give me a chance too," he pleaded. "Or, let fate give me a chance? Either way, it's only fair if we send something out in the universe with your name and number on it." The man looked at him critically.
"That would be fair. What else do I have?" he said, going through his bag again. Daichi waited impatiently.
"Oh," the man breathed. "That's perfect." He pulled a battered book out. It was a first edition Japanese translation of Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities. Daichi eyed the book, and then looked back up at the man, who started walking away again.
"I don't understand," Daichi muttered.
"When I get home tonight," the man explained patiently. "I'm going to write my name and phone number on the inside cover of this book. And then, first thing tomorrow, I'm going to take this book and sell it to a used bookstore. If you ever get your hands on it, you'll be able to call me!"
"But how do I know you're actually going to do it? Shouldn't you tell me which bookstore you're going to sell it to, so that way I can check?" Daichi asked. The man squinted at him, before laughing.
"Nice try, but no," he giggled. "That's the beauty of the game, you see? Now, every time you see a bookstore, you'll have to go in and see if it's there!" Daichi stopped in his tracks.
"I think you're actually quite the sadist," he said. The man turned to him and smirked.
"Possibly," he said, making to leave.
"C'mon," Daichi pleaded. "You don't have the most incredible night of your life with a complete stranger, and then just leave it up to fate." The man whirled to face him, determination in his eyes.
"Come with me," he said, dragging a bewildered Daichi across the road and into a hotel.
---
The lobby of the Karasuno Hotel was nicely furnished and blessedly empty. The man pulled him over to the left row of elevators, pressing the call button excitedly.
"Stay here," he ordered, before darting across to the set of elevators on the right side and pressing their call button. Daichi's feet shuffled to follow him, before the man waved him back to his side. "I said stay!"
Confused, and more than a little scared, Daichi followed his instructions.
"Now," the man said, straightening up. "We're both going into these separate elevators and choosing a floor. If we happen to choose the same one, we'll know we're meant to be together."
"You're actually insane," Daichi grinned. The elevator dinged behind him, and the doors behind the man opened. They both stepped into their respective elevators.
"When the door closes, you choose a button."
"I don't understand this," Daichi said nervously. The man smiled so widely Daichi couldn't help but smile back.
"You don't have to understand. You just have to have faith." The man looked down. He grabbed the Nekoma bag hanging off his arm, and launched it across the lobby to a very surprised Daichi, who managed to catch it.
"Hey," the man called, bringing Daichi's attention back to him. "It's Suga."
The elevator doors started to close.
"My name's Suga."
---
In his elevator, Sugawara Koushi took a deep breath. If they were meant to be together, fate would bring them together. He closed his eyes and pushed a random button. When he opened them, the ring around 23 was lit up.
He tapped his fingers that weren't holding the single black glove anxiously against his bag, as he went up floor after floor. His heart was pounding when the doors finally opened to reveal-
Nothing.
Suga swallowed his disappointment. There was always the possibility he could still come, so Suga waited and watched the elevator. He fiddled with the glove. He sat down on the floor in front of the elevator. He waited some more and fiddled some more. Finally, he sighed through his nose and stood back up.
Daichi wasn't coming.
He reached forward and pressed the call button. After a moment, the left elevator dinged open. As he made his way back down to the lobby, he couldn't help but feel crushed. He thought he had felt a connection, a real connection, with Daichi. Persistent, silly, handsome Daichi.
He didn't think he would hurt this much.
The air was cold, and he shivered as he drew his coat further around him. He hailed a taxi, and then drove off into the night.
---
The elevator doors shut and Daichi swallowed nervously. He couldn't mess this up. He hesitated at the buttons, hand dancing around them, before punching the 23 button.
He looked into the Nekoma bag that Suga - Suga! - had tossed him. In it lay a single, black glove. Daichi chuckled to himself. He was sure that Suga was thinking that the gloves needed to make their way together as well.
With a ding, the elevator doors opened and Daichi looked upon the devil.
"No, no no," he said. "I wasn't supposed to stop at this floor." The devil's father gave him a weird look as he shepherded his son into the elevator. "Uh, we're going up here," Daichi said, giving the devil-costumed child a look.
"It's fine," the father replied, completely misunderstanding Daichi. "Takahiro likes to ride either way."
"Ha!" the devil cried, smashing as many buttons as he could.
"No!" Daichi bellowed, aghast. "You can't do that!"
"Hey, man, calm down," the father said, looking at Daichi like he was crazy. Daichi felt a little crazy. "He's just a kid."
Just A Kid hissed at Daichi.
With a bump, the elevator stopped, flashing between two floors. "Looks like we've stopped," the father unnecessarily commented. The devil grinned, hissed, and growled again. Daichi was begrudgingly impressed with his commitment to character. The pencil moustache was a nice touch.
Daichi rubbed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. He almost poked an eye out when, with a bump, the elevator started moving again. When they hit the next floor, Daichi leapt out to look for Suga. There was no sign of him.
He rushed back in the elevator just before the doors closed. The father gave him a concerned look. With a deep breath, he summed up the situation as best he could. On the next floor, the devil rushed out to check with him.
"Is she here?" he cried.
"Nope," Daichi yelled back. "In, in, in!" He decided that maybe the devil wasn't so bad.
At the next floor, a black tie party got in the elevator. The devil enthusiastically told them about Daichi's predicament, and they all helped look for Suga before getting off at the next floor. The devil and his father were off at the next one.
The next floor was number 23.
Daichi was bouncing on the balls of his feet as the doors opened to reveal nothing but the lingering smell of cinnamon. Without stopping to think, Daichi hurtled back into the elevator and punched the button for the main level. When he reached it, he tore through the lobby and out into the night air.
"Suga?" he called frantically. A couple people looked at him strangely, but Suga was nowhere in sight.
Daichi made his way home, a little disheartened and a lot disenchanted, just like the lonely glove in the Nekoma bag in his pocket.