Work Text:
Hinata [11:11]
U ARENT SERIOUS!!!!!!!! U ARENT SERIOUS
Hinata [11:14]
U ARENT SERIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
●●●
‘I’m sorry if this sounds a little insistent,’ Hitoka says for what feels like the ninth time. It might really be the ninth time, actually, because she knows that sometimes she repeats things when she’s nervous. Well, Hitoka’s nervous a lot of the time so it’s not about that either; it’s more like there are different types of nervousness. There is This Customer Looks Grumpy, then there is This Customer Looks Drunk, then there is also the very bimonthly sketchbook submission nervousness, so it’s not like she’s nervous about everything all at the same time. Well, most of the time. Sometimes she is nervous about everything all at the same time, like something silly she said six months ago and what silly thing she’s going to say at breakfast tomorrow. Okay, but the kind of nervousness where she repeats things to confirm them is, well, the confirmation nervousness. Making sure she has next Thursday off with Kuroo-san, or asking a professor if twelve point font is really what they want because they usually ask for ten point. ‘But you are sure about this?’
‘Yachi-san,’ her residence head says with a little smile, shaking her head, ‘you make this sound like I’m the one getting a pet.’
Hitoka laughs and ducks her head, adjusts her beanie over her ears a little better. It’s almost noon, so the sunlight is actually a little rich instead of being just for show where it streams in through the window. It’s getting stronger too, day by day, as January eases into its latter half and winter slowly, slowly starts to leave. The head’s little office is as friendly as the rest of the residence itself, and Hitoka knows she doesn’t need to confirm anymore, but it isn’t exactly a small decision.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I just wanted to make sure of the policy.’
‘The policy’s definitely on your side,’ the residence head says. ‘As long as he isn’t disturbing anyone else, there’s absolutely no problem.’
Hitoka nods quickly at that, earnestly. Of course she’s going to make sure that she doesn’t create any sort of disturbance for her neighbours; they’re all lovely people and often slip cute notes under her door and knock in the afternoon to ask if she’d like a share in the big lunch they made (even though Riko-san is maybe not the very best at cooking, Hitoka always thinks it’s the thought that counts more than anything else; and anyway, there’s nothing that a little bit of grapefruit juice on the side can’t fix, even quite majestically over-salted ramen). And there’s also the one boy down the hallway with the blue-eyed dog whose name she can never remember (the boy, not the dog, but well, Hitoka doesn’t remember the dog’s name either, it’s something like number two or number three) and honestly if they’re quiet enough that she can barely remember them properly, the least Hitoka can do is make sure that the new addition to her household is just as quiet. She would hate to bother anyone.
‘Yachi-san?’
’S-sorry!’ she says, head snapping up. ‘I’m listening!’
‘You just need to sign here.’
The decline of January is something she can feel on her skin when she steps out, too. Before, it was always so cold that the sunlight really did feel like an intangible pale yellow over her surroundings, just barely there, just enough to actually make things visible. Now, she can feel its warmth. It’s weak, but it’s there; almost like a wash of watercolour, so thin that you can’t tell it apart from the paper, but present in the texture all the same. Almost as if she could reach out and tell the difference in the warmth between sun and shade, and she probably will be able to a couple of weeks from now, when it’s warm enough to remove her gloves.
As it is, January is in decline. It’s been the new year for a good few days now, and Hitoka, who likes to see change, no matter how small it is, thinks that it’s about time she did something a little new with her time and life. Little and new are both operative words, and the thought makes her smile as she adjusts her bag over her shoulder and makes her way in the direction of the shelter. The smile is little, but new, too.
Me [12:29]
Very very serious!
Hinata [12:29]
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHEN?? RIGHT NOW???
Me [12:32]
Right now! I’m almost there!
Hinata [12:32]
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAA
AA
AAAA
The doors of the shelter still have little paper snowflakes all over them, a garland hanging over the top of the frame and even two little silver bells tied to the handles. Hitoka knows the layout almost by heart now, which is not the part that makes her laugh; the part that makes her laugh is that she knows it so well that she remembers the locations of the different decorations; the little Christmas tree still in the corner of the reception area, the Santa figurine on the main counter, the posters of all the puppies in red and white hats. It also makes her laugh because she supervised the instalment of half of them, hands on her hips and all hesitation gone for a couple of hours.
The bells tinkle almost inaudibly as she pushes the door open, but she catches them all the same. And when she looks towards the reception area and spots the telltale yellow of Yamaguchi’s sweatshirt, she doesn’t even lose a moment before smiling and waving.
●●●
It's only been a month, but goodness, do puppies grow. Hitoka shouldn't be as surprised as she is given that she's been visiting the shelter almost twice a week ever since she first came here with Matsuoka last month; she's seen the little white thing go from a little white thing to a slightly-less-little white thing to the good few kilograms of fluff and over-excitement that she's currently struggling with. Maybe she's just noticing it all over again because she knows she's going to take these good few kilograms home with her today.
They haven't named him yet; Hitoka will never admit it out loud but most of the time she just calls him floof in her head. I wonder how the floof is doing today, and other things like that, which is a little complicated because all the puppies at the shelter are arguably floofs, but this floof is just a little— well, anyway. They haven't named him yet; just referring to him as him.
'Ready to take him home?' Yamaguchi says, and Hitoka smiles down at the puppy instead of him. The floof really is so much heavier than he was the first time she saw him, but no less enthusiastic. It helps that he's more or less beginning to fully recognise her; today, he yipped the moment she stepped into the room, scrambling all over to be let out of his cage. She wonders if he has even the remotest idea that he's going to live in a completely new place now. She wonders if he'll like it. She wonders—
'As ready as I'll be,' she says, looking up at Yamaguchi. He's spilled some sort of chocolate-y concoction on his sweatshirt; his effort to get rid of the stain is very visible and cute, and the little brown patch on the bright yellow is even cuter. In a way, it's like Yamaguchi is the personification of the changing winter sunshine. Warm, yellow, everything that reminds Hitoka of the friendliness of the world sometimes. When he grins back at her, his eyes narrow just a little bit; his smile revealing his teeth, freckles still in their smatters over his cheeks and nose. His ponytail is a little lopsided today.
There are some moments, more powerful than others, when Hitoka really wishes she could speak. She doesn't wish it with sadness or urgency; she just wishes it.
She can't say that deciding to adopt a puppy was a split-second thing; she usually gives at least a little thought to everything she does, especially things as serious as this. But in retrospect, given that she only came into the shelter for the first time a little over a month ago, it really does feel like she just woke up last week and decided that she wanted the floof to live with her, even though she had started considering it from the very first time she saw him. At any rate, she'd only told Yamaguchi about it last week, over stir-fry in the kitchen while the other boys sat outside bickering about what documentary to watch next. (Tsukishima-kun, who wanted something about the cretaceous period for the third time, was vetoed universally.)
'Really?' Yamaguchi had said, quite literally dropping the onion in his hands. 'You're serious?'
'Absolutely serious,' she'd replied. The look of surprise on his face had quickly changed to delight, and the rest of their cooking was basically a rapid-fire, mostly one-sided discussion involving Yamaguchi telling her all about the details of it, the care, the training (I mean, I could come over— yeah, I mean...) and accessories and diet, while she listened and chopped away at the vegetables.
She was serious; she is very serious about the little bundle in her arms. They're kneeling on the floor, Yamaguchi with his hands ready to catch the puppy at any time that he might want to escape Hitoka's hold, and the same sunlight coming through the high windows in parts. For once, Hitoka's attention is only one one of the puppies in the room (or well, maybe two) and it's like she's waiting for the full realisation to hit her in a few minutes. Her mother already said yes; the residence head already said yes; but starting today she will actually come home to this every day. It might not be that big of a deal to others, but Hitoka is eighteen and hasn't even been out of her house for an entire year yet.
It's exactly the kind of thing she wants to do. She's just grateful that she found a way to do it, really.
'What shall we name him?' she asks, and feels justifications bubbling up in her throat the moment she realises what she said. But the honest fact of it all is that, well, if friendship is a group project and good times are better when shared, then the question really is what shall we name him. And if Yamaguchi finds it strange, then she'll just cross that bridge when she comes to it. (Hitoka is sometimes nervous about everything all at once, and at other times, she isn't nervous at all.)
But Yamaguchi only clears his throat after a moment, grin softening a little, and he reaches out to scratch the puppy behind one of its ears. He frowns at its content whine, contemplating, and Hitoka waits.
Then Yamaguchi smiles again.
'I have an idea,' he says.
●●●
Hinata [15:09]
Bobby Pin.
Me [15:13]
Bobby Pin.
Hinata [15:13]
Bobby Pin.
Me [15:14]
Bobby for short! Or Pin! (≡^∇^≡)
Hinata [15:15]
when can i come see him.
Me [15:17]
Yamaguchi is coming over after his shift, you should all come together!!
It wasn't a split-second decision, because Hitoka doesn't take those for things like these. It definitely wasn't a split-second decision, but the idea that an hour ago her room was hers and now Pin has already decided that he likes the bunch of cushions piled up against the corner where her bed meets the wall, makes it feel like she just decided to change her life when she woke up one morning. And the thing is, in the long run she doesn't think it'll matter whether it was a split-second decision that didn't feel like one, or one that wasn't but felt like it anyway. Change is change no matter how it comes, and if January can go from the kind of cold where she thinks nothing will be warm again, to the growing hours of sunlight that February brings, then change will always, always mean moving forward.
Hitoka snaps a Polaroid of all that white against the saturated pink of her cushions, and considers sliding it under her neighbour's door after she airs it out.