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School was over, but Umemiya stayed back on the rooftop — tending to the potted plants that lined the far wall. The late afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the tiles, and the cool breeze made his hair sway slightly.
He crouched down, trimming a stray leaf from the edge of a tomato stem.
Then— “Tch—”
A sudden sting.
He looked down. A thin red scratch marked the side of his hand, right along the knuckle — not serious, but enough to sting from the edge of a clay pot.
He sighed, brushing dirt off his pants and standing up slowly.
⸻
By the time he pushed open the door to the nurse’s office, the school was nearly empty. Only faint sounds echoed from outside — voices, a basketball bouncing somewhere.
Inside, it was quiet.
Suo Hayato was there, standing by the medicine shelf, neatly restocking supplies into labeled compartments. He turned just enough to see who entered.
“Umemiya-san?”
“Yo,” Umemiya lifted his hand lazily, showing the fresh cut. “Rooftop accident. Clay pot’s fault, not mine.”
Suo said nothing but walked over instantly, already picking out cotton, antiseptic, and a roll of gauze from the drawer.
“Sit.”
Umemiya dropped onto the edge of the nurse’s bed without protest, sighing. His posture slumped slightly — not from the wound, but from everything else. He didn’t even try to cover it this time.
Suo knelt beside him, cleaning the cut in quiet precision.
“Still gardening after school?” he asked softly.
“Mm. Got lost in it,” Umemiya replied. “Didn’t realize I was tired ‘til now.”
Suo glanced up at that — only for a second — then went back to wrapping the bandage carefully.
When he was done, he sat beside Umemiya. Neither spoke for a moment. The room felt still.
Then Suo said, quietly:
“If you want to rest a bit, I don’t mind.”
Umemiya turned his head slightly. “Huh?”
“You can lean on me,” Suo said plainly, shifting his shoulder just a little. “Just for a while.”
Umemiya raised an eyebrow, amused. “You offering your shoulder like it’s some kind of deluxe pillow now?”
Suo didn’t even blink. “Better than pretending you’re not exhausted.”
Umemiya snorted softly. But he didn’t argue.
Suo’s voice lowered — quieter this time, just above a whisper.
“You always let people lean on you, you know.
Let someone do the same for you… once in a while.”
Umemiya didn’t say anything.
He just… closed his eyes. And slowly, quietly… rested his head on Suo’s shoulder.
The moment felt heavier than it should’ve been.
But also — warm.
Suo didn’t move.
Until he felt it — fingers brushing against his.
Then… a soft grip.
Umemiya had unconsciously taken his hand in his sleep.
Suo looked down at their joined hands.
And held on.
Because for once, Umemiya wasn’t the one giving comfort.
He was receiving it.
And Suo… was exactly where he wanted to be.