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“What’re you doing?”
Haruka hadn’t intended for his question to come out sounding so judgemental, nor had he intended on startling the other boy so badly. It certainly wasn’t like he had any ground to stand on when it came to hobbies. Haruka’s only hobbies, at present, were fighting and eating. Neither of which the peanut gallery that was Kotoha, Nirei, and Sakae claim count as actual hobbies. Something about Haruka’s approach to said activities and some other stuff that he didn’t remember since he’d stopped listening.
Suo had jumped a little in place and cursed with a wince, startled by Haruka’s sudden and overtly aggressive question. A small bead of bright vermilion was unveiled on the tip of Suo’s finger as he pulled his hand away from the back of the weird white circle he’d been holding. The sight of it spurred Haruka into motion again, ducking into their cramped bathroom for the first aid kit. Less surprising than it used to be, Suo let him bandage the prick in his finger without complaint.
“It’s called embroidery,” he answers once Haruka finishes and is gathering the bits of trash. He looks down, at the white circle in his lap, and won’t meet Haruka’s eyes. “All of you kept on about me and hobbies.” Suo says it like he’s pouting, but the tension in his body reads that he’s angry.
He watches Suo’s fingers curl against his legs, the fabric of his pants gathering in his fists. It used to be so hard to read Suo, Haruka acknowledges that part of it was that Suo didn’t let himself show anything. That displaying emotion like this, letting himself be seen and read openly like this was a huge concession. Haruka acknowledges that Suo has been keeping up his end of their bargain. So now it was easy to see that Suo was upset
Haruka decides to try a tactic he’s seen Kiryu use with success rather than blunder his way through an apology-turned question. “What’s that,” he flops down next to Suo and presses their shoulders together, “and what's it gotta do with that circle thing?”
He ignores the way Suo stiffens at the contact, the way his breath hitches a bit. Instead, Haruka lets Suo have the moment he needs to adjust to the touch and pretends it’s to allow him to think of how to answer Haruka’s questions. The tension in Suo decreases, slightly, as he sighs.
“It’s,” Suo begins with a steady but annoyed voice, “a form of art, I guess, where you decorate fabric with colored thread or yarn with a needle.”
Haruka presses closer, genuinely curious. “That doesn’t seem like you’d enjoy?”
Suo is rather famously bad at art. Much to Momose’s continually growing bewilderment and the general amusement of their classmates. His vice captain has always taken the teasing and questioning with good humor.
“It’s not,” Suo’s voice is soft. “I can do all the stitches just fine, but it only looks nice if I follow a pattern.” Haruka watches as Suo runs his thumb on the wooden edge of the circle.
He feels so far away despite being right next to him. The distance makes Haruka feel like they’re suddenly back to that awful night months ago. Suo’s eye and smile dead, even as his body continued to go on, and Haruka being unable to breathe past the realization that leaving him would be like personally signing the death certificate. Bright, kind, and silly Suo Hayato had been left behind in Makochi that night when Nirei had tried to stop Suo and in his place… Cold, calculating, and empty Sun Fei had stepped in. Haruka only regretted a little that he’d had to hurt Suo in order for the other boy to return to himself.
He leans his head against Suo’s, ignoring the echoing memory in his ears of the other boy crying from that night. “You don’t make any sense” He mutters, staring blankly at the muted colors of the thread already in the fabric. “Why do something you don’t like?”
“Sometimes…” Suo trails off, taking a deep breath that shakes as he exhales. “Sometimes it’s more about keeping my hands busy, sometimes it’s about the memory.”
“Memory?” The colors are fuzzy blurs now, Haruka’s stare becoming unfocused as he mulls over his own memories and Suo’s words. “You ain’t doing this as some kind of weird penance are you?”
“Before I was at-“ Suo cuts himself off. The tension is coming back, so Haruka presses against him harder. It makes them topple over. Neither make any actions to move. “Before,” Suo says in a firmer tone but still quiet, “the aunties taught me. Pretty things made by a cute and pitiful face sell well. Or so they said.”
Suo sounds tired in the way old memories that aren’t necessarily good or bad tend to make a person. His heart beats under Haruka’s ear, steady and quiet like Suo had a tendency to be. It speeds up as the silence begins to stretch on, audibly outing Suo’s emotions to Haruka. It’s a little embarrassing to be laying like this and in any other circumstance, he’d have pushed away and created distance.
Somehow, it feels different with Suo. “Nun’ of that tells me what the white circle is,” Haruka grumbles.
This close Suo’s laugh feels loud. It makes Haruka feel warm, a different warm from the usual burn of embarrassment that Suo usually causes.
“It’s called a hoop, Sakura-kun,” he says through the giggles that are still bubbling out of him. “The wooden part is a hoop that holds the fabric taut, it makes it easier to work the needle and thread through.”
“That sounds made up,” Haruka declares. Mostly to feel Suo laugh again, but also to get the other boy to keep talking.
He likes listening to Suo talk, his voice is smooth and soft when he’s not being an antagonizing little shit. It’s nice like this, though. Suo’s voice rumbles and echoes in his chest right along with his heart beat.
Suo begins, “If you let me-“
“No,” Haruka interrupts petulantly, “explain your grandma hobbies from there.”