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The house hasn’t been lively in a very long time.
There’s the occasional noise from his neighbors—laughter from the family next door, frustrated shouts from the couple downstairs—but otherwise, Sakae has learned to live through the silence. It's the same silence that soon turned into a constant, almost deafening ringing that he can’t get out of his head.
It’s the same kind of silence that only drags him deeper in his own thoughts, until he feels like he’s drowning. It gnaws at him when he tries to distract himself, punches him in the gut when he wants to convince himself that he’s fine.
But Sakae has grown used to the quiet, used to living by himself. But the thought of being all alone haunted him. There was nobody for him to welcome home, no one to wait for him at the end of each day.
His house hasn’t felt like a home in a very, very long time.
Maybe that’s one of the reasons he found himself inviting Haruka back again. And again, and again, and again.
It was a little strange at first; having someone else inside his house, let alone someone whose guts he hated at first sight. Sakae shouldn’t have judged him so easily, but it didn’t take long for him to find out that Haruka never took it against him.
Instead he lets Sakae drag him back to his house time and time again, eats the food Sakae cooks, wears Sakae’s clothes, and pays respect to Sakae’s family altar. They watch TV a lot, but there are also nights when they just sit together. Homework is a common activity, and there are times when Haruka asks about Sakae’s family—what were they like, how did he grow up—and just listens, and listens, and listens.
They still argue. Haruka gets riled up too easily, and Sakae finds way too much joy in seeing him get flustered. Sometimes, Haruka yells loud enough to clear out the ringing in Sakae’s ears.
It’s a welcome sound.
Their voices fill the air until well into the evening, when it’s time for Haruka to decide if he wants to go home or stay the night. Sakae already knows the answer, but he always asks anyway.
At some point, seeing Haruka walk around in his house like this—wearing his clothes, freshly showered with the scent of his soap and shampoo, praising Sakae’s cooking—has somehow become part of Sakae’s daily life.
One toothbrush becomes two again, one pair of slippers becomes two again, an extra towel that’s always out, a drawer in Sakae’s room that’s now emptied out to store Haruka’s own clothes. He rarely wears them, but they’re there, just for the sake of it.
Sakae’s house hasn’t felt like a home until that night Haruka stayed with him, and for the first time in a while, Sakae caught himself feeling something he also hasn’t felt in a long time.
“What’s gotten you so deep in thought?” Haruka asks.
Sakae looks up from the pot that’s simmering on the stove. “It’s nothing, it’s—,” he pauses when he sees the way Haruka’s eyebrows furrow. “It’s just not as quiet as it used to be.”
Almost instantly, Haruka bristles. “Hey, you keep inviting me here—”
“That’s not what I meant. I—,” Sakae tries to think of a way to tell Haruka everything that’s been running in his head, everything that’s been sitting on his chest for weeks now without accidentally pouring his heart out and making a fool of himself. “I just— I’m really glad you’re here. With me.”
“Oh,” Haruka visibly relaxes. “I told you, it’s no big deal. Besides, you make great food, so I think you’re the one doing me a favor.”
Sakae actually breathes a laugh at that, turning back to his stew. “At this point I might just ask you to move in with me, if that’s the only reason you keep coming over.”
There’s silence again, and for a moment Sakae fears he’s said something wrong, that he’d crossed a line. But when he looks up again, Haruka is staring at him with his mouth agape and his face as red as a tomato.
“I— you— we—,” Haruka tries to start. “You can’t just say that! What if I get the wrong idea?” Haruka pouts, cheeks still pink as he shyly looks away from Sakae.
Sakae almost drops his ladle. He can feel the heat rising from his chest to his neck, up to his face. He’d only half-meant what he said, but Sakae certainly did not expect Haruka’s reaction.
“But, would you want to?”
Sakae’s ears burn hot as he asks, but Haruka’s own ears are red, too. When he turns to Sakae again, he has that same look in his eye that tells Sakae his answer every night to the question if he wants to sleep over.
It’s the same, but Sakae waits for his answer anyway.
“If you’d let me.”