Archive of Our Own

Denial

Grief feels like an enormous wave that’s easy to perceive. A person will just give up on it as they watch it come closer, expecting it to crash into them. But it envelopes them for a second with a fake sense of security. However, once it completely envelops the other and crashes into them, it’s suffocating, painful, and most certainly, forever. 

Suna always prided himself in being stoic, but he never claimed to be a winner against fights with his feelings. He didn’t know that navigating through a relationship was like learning how to swim: scary and uncertain, before it could slowly turn into a natural movement as he let his body blend in with the body of water, like waves crashing into each other. Suna also didn’t know that grief felt like being left to swim in the Atlantic with no materials nor a boat, at the mercy of the sun, excruciating. Or like the storms that resemble the turmoil inside of him. 

He wished he wasn’t fond of memories. “We don’t need memories”, yet his phone gallery says otherwise: funny instants, intimate moments, giggles as he aggressively (but not really) kissed his neck, tickled him, hummed to parody music playing as they somehow slowly danced to it. It was cruel watching it all back when he no longer had access to those moments, not beyond his phone, not when the soil above a grave was separating them layer after layer.

He was walking back from the cemetery. This day, he allowed a few tears to escape him after ensuring he was alone. If only these few tears could water the older bouquet of flowers. He replaced the withered and dead ones with new blooms, replaying before him a quick cycle of life that somehow moved slower than his love story. He hoped for a miracle to renew the story – their story that had long ended.

His phone vibrated again as he received an email. I should block this fucking ad , he thought the moment he read it 

“”No need to move forward, as you can bring them back! You lost a lover, a friend or a family member? With our newest Android, you only need to give us the required information. With the government's authorization, we will send you back the rest of your soul.

With us, let’s build memories forever. “”

Moments of desperation resemble a mirror reflection mocking its owner. When one’s body gives in to the temptation of quick comfort, desperation gets painted in satirical ways. Because Suna knows that grief is part of life, the intensity of his feelings was just a result of the same amount of love he gave. But as he closed his Gmail app, he was faced with his wallpaper, and he felt the walls he envisioned around him close up, then crumble and rain down on him. 

Suna was an athlete and had put enough money aside. He would’ve summoned the devil back if it meant getting his lover back. It would be ungrateful to refuse a gift from the heavens if all it meant was to give earthly money in exchange. 

So he started reading about the product. 

Suna Rintarou did not part well with defeat and loss. As someone who only did what was necessary, engaged with what he deemed essential and reacted to what was worth responding to, he held everything in his life dear – silly moments he considered essential, the warmth of a certain someone he marked as a new daily sensation. If there were a way to get his old life back, he would pay with his life and more. And more than anything, he would wait, even if it meant waiting for almost a year for his other half to be brought back to life, for the ‘continue’ key of his life to be pressed.

Minutes they turned to hours, then days, then weeks. 

He still visited the cemetery frequently, but his tears ceased to fall. An ounce of excitement mixed in with fear lingered in his body. He had to remind himself that even with the Android, his lover’s body would still be buried. But would that even matter if his soul is back to him? Damned be his lover’s body if all it did was to pull them apart. For a while.

A long while to his liking. 

His patience extended beyond the seas, and the waves that were once suffocating him now felt like a constant shoulder pat as to tell him his wait would end soon – that the ghost in his home would stop haunting him and soon come back alive. 

He would get everything back. That was what he had convinced himself when he made the purchase. He had repeated it to himself when he faced the mocking reflection in the doctor’s office to implant his heart’s detector. 

“This ensures that the Android will stop living as you do. After all, this is an offer for you to avoid living your life carrying grief with you. However, the world must continue, and people must leave a place for others. Bringing back the dead does not make them immortal. Otherwise, we would just lose our humanity.” 

Suna then wanted to snarl and tell the doctor that he contradicted himself, but he decided to stay silent. All he needed was for the love of his life to return to his arms, even if it meant not getting back all of him. Androids are not ensured a hundred per cent compatibility, but almost. Even if he could not get his money back by any means, it was a sacrifice he was ready to make.

It was his only fuel those days when he woke up and went back to sleep. So when he received a message saying his man would be brought to his doorstep, he jumped. It was a feeling that only possessed him once in his life when he was waiting for Nobutoshi to come to pick him up on their first date. Suna rushed to his bedroom, hitting his toe on the bed corner in return, earning a minute or two to agonise in pain. 

He felt like he was trapped in an out-of-body experiment. Despite all the meetings he did with the licensed psychologist to prepare him for this moment, he still felt unsure. Was he genuinely getting him back? His body was overflowing with joy to the point that his bones hurt. He found himself zoning out on his bed – their bed. Only when his bell rang was he shaken out of it. 

Two men he didn’t recognise were standing in front of him. One of them looked out of it, and the other had a more professional attire. 

“Suna Rintarou?” All he could manage was a nod. He felt his phone vibrate briefly in his grip, but he ignored it. 

“I’m here to ensure you have received your order - well, partner in this case.” The odd man touched the earplug he had. “You can activate him,” he said before facing Suna again. “He may be out of it for a few days as some of his memories will be flowing back, but it takes a while, so don’t feel worried about that an- 

“Wait.” he finally found his voice, except he wished for all of this to be a sick joke. “This is not Nobutoshi.” His voice grew frantic as he kept looking back and forth between the two men before him. The other one, bleached blond hair with brown roots, had started to shift in his place. “I would assume he’s- but- he is not my Nobu-”

The other man gazed at him, maintaining a stoic expression before speaking again, “We did warn you that he may not be completely compatible. Resurrecting the deceased without alterations is beyond human capability, sir.” He cleared his throat again before reorganising the papers in his hand. “I hope you’re aware that there is no refunding policy. Before I go, I just need to point out that he is as human as he can be, so treat him as one. I apologise if his looks are a bit altered, but I am sure he is still the same deep at his core.”

Before Suna could argue more, the other man started walking away, leaving behind a confused man and a shattered other. He looked at his phone before offering the other man a word.

“There appears to be a reproduction error, as a product has been dispatched to you. We sincerely apologise, as it seems that your order was not properly processed. This led to the creation of an AI that was intended for another customer, who did not complete the purchase and subsequently cancelled it. We do not know the extent of the error. Therefore, it may be possible your order just has a different body. However, as there is no product refund policy, we can only apologise. Know that although this is a mistake, it was mentioned in our policies, and any lawsuits coming from you would only result in an unnecessary waste of time. Keep your heart open to love.”

Keep your heart open to love . How ironic, the same heart that Suna felt squeezing in his chest the very moment. His heart was left open to bleed. 

Suna Rintarou did not think he could experience grief again so soon. To think a heart already torn apart once would know the way of breaking enough for it to hurt less, but it just hurts more as adding salt to the wound. He felt his throat closing up, and for a moment of delirium, he welcomed death. It was when he felt arms holding his shoulder and gazed into the other man’s brown eyes that he came back to reality. He was saying something, except Suna could not hear him. It was already too loud in his head, and he wanted everything to stop. 

“Are ya okay?” It was the first time he heard his voice. It should’ve been Nobu’s voice . It should have been his arms holding me, and I should’ve been hyperventilating because I was overwhelmed with happiness. Suna was overcome with the same feelings that washed over him when his lover’s death was announced, and now that it was announced again differently, all he could feel was anger. He was angry at himself, the world and the guy in front of him that could still be his man, in a different body. 

But Nobutshi never had a Kansai accent. It could be the body owner’s. “I’m never getting out of this waiting game.” He shouldn’t allow himself to be angry just yet, because the man in front of him could still be his lover, and until his memories are back, he will learn to love him in his new body.

He forgot that he was still being held by him. As if he had any space to worry about Suna when, according to what he was told, he doesn’t remember anything himself. His hands were warm. Was he really an android? If only he looked like Nobutshi did, he would’ve had all his life back in order. 

“What do you remember?” he found himself asking. He felt awkward around him. It didn’t feel like he was around someone he knew most of his life.

“Huh? Eh- I don’t know?” The other guy looked panicked for a second, but it disappeared quickly. “I don’t remember much, but since y’er here, it must mean ya do! I do know I love volleyball.” 

Suna’s heart stopped for a mere second before it started beating frantically. Nobutshi never played volleyball, but Suna did. Maybe his love for volleyball is due to its link with Suna. There were a lot of maybes, but he would oppose any other possibility because the man in front of him had to be his partner.

He had a wistful smile on his face before he steadied himself and opened his door more. “Your name is Nobutshi, and don’t worry, you’ll get your memories back in a few days.” he could get used to this. He could love him again in this appearance.

“I don’t think that name fits me.” 

Suna did not think much of that comment, not when he invited him into his home, not when he gave him his bed and took the couch, not when he barely got a wink of sleep. He was afraid, yet excited. The faster the other rested, the more likely he was to remember faster and Suna yearned for a familiar middle ground where he didn’t have to be the only one holding onto their memories together.

He kept thinking of all possibilities, convincing his heart repeatedly that love is indeed not blind, but it could still be adjusted. His memories drifted back to what he claimed to be the loneliest day of his life when they buried Nobu, and he had to come back home to an empty home that used to be more than just built walls. If he had to ignore the changes in his partner to fall back into his old routine, he would do just that.

He remembered only noticing their time together running out once their clock had stopped ticking. Then, to avoid feeling it ever again, he had reset it as if it had never stopped. His heart would accept it faster if he just ignored all the changes. What was important was that Nobutushi was back.

Suna did not think much of his comment, even when he revisited their old moments together. He should have. The following morning, he accidentally broke his favourite coffee mug when his Nobutshi woke up and told him, “My name is Atsumu”. His guts wrenched at the sound of his morning voice speaking four words he could not ignore, destroying the bit of hope he had been latching onto.

He was not even permitted a day to live in ignorant bliss in his newfound denial.

Anger

“No.” he didn’t move despite being surrounded by shattered pieces of his ceramic mug. He didn’t even blink despite his vision going blank momentarily.

“The fuck ya mean no?” His eyes flickered to gaze into Atsumu’s eyes. His nose scrunched up as he tried to keep his face from mastering a frowning expression. He looked easy to rile up, which felt like another slap in the face because Nobutshi was a calm man, never biting more than he could chew. 

Suna was angry at the world, the man before him, and himself. Because now, he was grieving all over again. He wanted to be cruel but did not know where to channel his feelings.

“Nobu… you’re remembering wrong.” His voice was foreign to himself, detached from all forms of emotions. Maybe he was still in denial after all. People claimed before that Suna always looked neutral, a man hard to read, yet he felt stripped out of his cover right now, left to the cold breeze.

“Ya can’t deny me the only truth I remember.” Suna was still looking at the man, trying to hold onto his foolish hopes that this was just… What, a glitch? He’d remember who he truly was if he slept it off. The only error here was ordering a dead man back to life. He watched as Atsumu went to collect the broken pieces on the floor. “I don’t know who Nobutshi was to you, but I will not be answering to that nam- Ouch,” 

A small part of Suna wanted to ignore him, but as his finger started dripping blood, he could see Atsumu’s face better. He was angry, but there was panic lurking behind his eyes as if afraid other feelings he had been masking would soon spill along with the blood. 

I just need to point out that he is as human as he can be, so treat him as one.

He walked around the broken mug to reach for the first aid kit, then kneeled to treat the other man’s shallow wound. He was still irritated, but until he came up with a solution, he had to keep him in a good state. Maybe there is a way to get a refund. “I will not be calling you by any other name. I asked for Nobutshi. If you want to blame someone, blame whoever has wanted you back, but not enough to complete the order.” Words left his mouth faster than he anticipated, and he felt Atsumu’s hand freeze between his palms. He was afraid to make eye contact, but he had to when he heard the other man chuckle. “Ya really are an asshole. Good thing this Nobutshi didn’t have to put up with you twice.” 

They were both hurting. He knew that. He shouldn’t say anything else to make it worse. Suna stood up, letting on a cold, detached ‘fuck. you.’ slip his tongue before he turned his back and left the house. At first, he didn’t know where he was going. He just let his body take the lead. He needed to escape his home and escape his own skin if he could. For the first time since what felt like forever, it felt suffocating. His mind kept drifting back at Nob- Atsumu’s expression as it crumbled when the words left his mouth. He regretted them; of course, he did. Suna Rintarou was mean but never cruel. It must have been frustrating for the other man to be trapped in a new reality without any recollection of his old life. But Suna was full of rage and fury. He found it hard for him to give a fuck. All he wanted for the past few months was to grasp a sense of control over his life again, but all his choices resulted in a complete loss of any control he had left.  

Grief comes in waves, born from the dysfunctional heart of a tormented ocean, each one pulsing differently from the other. At times, the first waves come suddenly and quickly, going away faster than a person would feel like they hallucinated them. Other times, before coming to terms with the change of weather and the first wave, a person is quickly enveloped by a second wave, coming roughly, making one feel helpless in the hands of liquid, unstable and drifting away from the shore, unable to stand on their feet. Losing the sense of a stable land is infuriating, and before anger is processed, a third wave comes, even if seen from afar. This time, a person would just give in to helplessness. What can a small body do versus an enormous body of water or feelings that come crushing at once?

He was angry at himself, but the world was already punishing him enough, and as a result, every time he thinks of it, he gets more resentful of Atsumu, of what he could’ve been. 

As a last resort to console himself, Suna opened his phone and reread the whole contract. He was royally fucked. Despite it being a long procedure, he must’ve been in a state of daze to not notice how entrapping it was. If he was to think about it any longer, he’d find himself having a meltdown in the middle of the city, although there was no one watching.

Suna Rintarou, at the age of twenty-seven, wished he was not the protagonist of his own life. He wished to be a bystander, existing with no subplots or complexities. Instead, he was stuck in a cycle of losing his important keys at every step like an ill-fated prey leaving clues for its predators to follow.

He no longer had a sense of time nor belonging because, in spite of leaving in the early morning, as he truly stared ahead of him, he could see the sun slowly setting, and he dreaded the fact he had to go back to that place. His lover’s grave feels more like home.

Trying to find a solution to a problem he can’t yet acknowledge was not achievable. When he stood in front of his house, Suna felt like he was intruding in his own house, but when he opened the door to see Nob- Atsumu jump off his seat to meet him halfway, only to freeze in the middle as if he was both uncertain and full of a grudge, a sick feeling of gratefulness washed over his heart for a second. Although he immediately regretted it, he was glad he was not alone in this cruel predicament.

Although he was not to blame, Atsumu was the only person Suna could blame.

And so he did.

“What are you doing here?” whatever expression Atsumu had was replaced with one of confusion. Suna knew his question had no answer because the other had no other place to go. But he was only human – an angry, grieving human who kept on losing, and angry people are not rational nor nice. He wanted to make him feel unwelcome, but seeing his expression crumble for a millisecond before it got replaced with one of fury was enough to make him regret speaking again.

Suna Rintarou regretted a lot; signing the contract, believing it may work and being controlled by his emotions in such a raw, naked manner. 

Whatever Atsumu was about to say before died at the tip of his tongue. He just tsked, looking at the other with a lot of bitterness as if to blame him for his own existence. To him, Suna was a beautiful man he did not recognise at first, like a rare flower blooming in a foreign garden, only for him to step on, ending the bit of beauty and hope left in him as a flower left without its peers, hoping for another to bloom only to meet the end of a dirty shoe. 

But for Suna, Atsumu was like a flower blooming out of its season, resulting in killing all the flowers that deserved to exist around it because he is an invasive species taking away all warranted life for the price of his own, even if he was not the one to plant it, Suna could still feel soil cover his fingertips.

“Ya think I want this? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now! I don’t remember anything yet except my name and how to function as a human being. I don’t even know yer name! I didn’t ask for this. I am also grieving.” He was explosive, Suna noted, but he had to tune down his voice in his head. It was overwhelming. He was getting used to the echo of silence within the walls of his house despite hating it for imposing suddenly, yet now he felt the ground vibrate at Atsumu’s voice. 

Be that as it may, Suna was still searching for Nobutshi in Atsumu, even if it was a small percentage and he was growing furious at every second that passed as it seemed to dissolve into nothingness.

He was feeling unkind. As Atsumu seemed to look for a response, Suna decidedly stayed silent. He did not know whether it was to spare him any harsh comment or to punish him. The fake blond appeared to be one to fight-and-solve on the spot, which was naive of him. There was no solution to this problem because his existence was pertinent to it. 

Suna lifted his gaze to look at him, a cold and ruthless small smile shaping its way on his face. Without a word in response, he just walked past him towards his room and closed the door.

And Atsumu did not follow. His house fell into complete silence; for a moment, he thought he had imagined everything that had happened in the previous days. He did not let his angry tears fall, although Suna could not say the same about the other man. After an hour of unpleasing blessed silence, he heard sniffling in the next room. 

Guilt crawled under his skin, and he had no energy to redirect his anger into anything else. 

Bargain 

As flowers wither, so did his anger. 

The first week or two felt like a warzone. Suna tended to grow silent when he was angry, yet he found it hard to not be dragged into Atsumu’s screaming matches. However, after various inutile rounds, he started to notice that the other man was more frustrated than angry. 

“I wish I wasn’t brought back, although I don’t even remember being gone. I know being back is a mistake. Yer life is messed up. I saw the disappointment ya carry with ya, and it’s my fault, and I’m stuck here because I no longer have the life that used to be mine.” He sounded tired. It has been a week and a half since this predicament, and Suna only went back home to fill the fridge, but he spent most of his days away, and Atsumu spent most of his days alone in a house that wasn’t his. Even when he got chunks of his memory back, he was left with it alone until he believed he imagined all of it.

An apology was at the tip of his tongue, yet that day, Suna decided to stay silent. His feelings were clashing between the remnants of anger and guilt, and he didn’t want to speak until the voices in his head calmed down. 

His apology presented itself in small actions. At first, he threw his old phone at Atsumu. “I cleaned everything. It has my phone number. I wish whoever put you back together did not take away your ability to use smartphones. If you are about to burn the house down or in…dire need, I guess you can give me a call… under the name Suna Rintarou. It is also connected to Wi-Fi, but I advise you to keep your internet presence limited at the moment. Just… use it to get yourself back up to date with what is happening worldwide.”

They did not speak much after. The second time was when Atsumu ate the pudding he kept in the fridge for himself, denying it when asked about it. 

“What do you mean you didn’t eat it? We are the only people in this house!” Suna was getting annoyed, but Atsumu’s expression froze. 

“I have a twin.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t eat- what?” he whispered in a detached way. Then he massaged his temple as if he had a headache. 

“Our bickering right now… it reminded me of a blurry memory of me arguing with a copy of myself over pudding. I know it sounds stupid, but.” he squeezed his heart, visibly in pain. Suna panicked a little, taking careful steps towards him, but stopped midway. “Don’t ya worry. I’m not in any physical pain, but my chest is tightening. I may be having a panic attack.” He cleared his throat again, trying to take in a deep breath but failing. He was trying to act like he got everything under control, but the shaking of his hand and his unfocusing eyes were telling a different story.

In an instant, Suna lost him because Atsumu was now sitting on the floor, trying to pull himself together, but a hiccup kept interrupting his inhales. He went down with him. 

“Err… Atsumu, I am going to touch your hand, okay? Try to… to synchronise your breathing to my squeezes, okay? “ he felt useless because he never knew what to do in such situations. 

He tried to breathe calmly along with his squeezes, but this also allowed him to look at the other man. For all his loud and feisty bravado, he resembled a lost, cornered fox now.

He has a family somewhere. Of course, he did. Suna felt stupid for forgetting the basic rules of this situation; he was as human as he could be. He had a family, people who cared for him, a past, a present and a potential future. 

Suna Rintarou was still mad at the whole situation, but he could still acknowledge he was treating him like trash, ignoring him the whole time even when he was in need of human connection and having Suna be the only human he ‘knows’. 

Guilt chewed his insides, but he focused on his own breathing as he tried to help Atsumu out of his head. 

When he eventually calmed down, they didn’t speak out loud. They went to sit on the couch, and Suna opted to make them both tea. For someone who claimed to act intentionally indifferent towards the other man, he was surprised to find himself making tea for him, just like how he would have made it for Nobu.

He set it in front of them, glaring at the two mugs. 

“I’m tired of constantly fighting, Suna-san.” it was Atsumu who broke the silence, even if he sounded like he was imposing and overstepping his boundaries by just speaking. 

Suna nodded his head before he realised the other man was looking the other way and couldn't see him. The whole mood was fragile, Suna couldn’t guess whether he was embarrassed by the panic attack he just had or if he just couldn't bring himself to look at him. He understands if he was resentful towards him. “Yeah…. You can call me Rintarou, by the way… with this whole situation, there’s no need to add any honorifics. We were- we are probably the same age.”

Atsumu turned to look at him now. Silence settled again between them, less awkward, less tense this time. “I’m sorry it wasn’t the person ya were waiting for at the door. It’s weird ya know. I don’t feel like I’m not in a human body. I feel the pain and all the touch like I remember feeling before.” 

“They told me you’d age like any other human would. You’re a perfect replica of your human self.” he regretted not having a civil conversation earlier. The words he spoke before while being angry and hurt still haunted him.

“I wonder if it would feel any different to see my own brother, my twin and know we’re no longer identical.” He leaned to hold the mug. Atsumu was fidgeting while harbouring another panic attack. “I wish my stupid memories would stop just showing me snippets. All of it-, it feels  like nothing belongs to me.” 

Suna wanted to console him, but he felt unworthy of doing so. He was not his friend; he was barely an acquaintance by force and had been cruel to him for the past weeks. It may not have been going his way. He may never get back Nobutshi, but he can work to find a way around it. If he was blinded by his rage and negative feelings the whole time, then he could fix this.

If he was getting suffocated by all the ropes around his neck, then all he needed to do was to cut them out. 

The man beside him was no villain, and he did not deserve to receive all his pain along with his own. Suna did not need to dim the lights in his eyes as they were already flickering in the face of the darkness he faced at the moment of rebirth.

“I’m sorry too… I didn’t mean to treat you the way I did. You didn’t deserve to be in the face of my irrational emotion-

“What the fuck? I accept yer apology, but don’t call yer emotions irrational. Y’er grieving… I’m sure Osam- oh. His name is Osamu.” A sad smile made its way. “I’m sure Osamu was also grieving when he… thought of doing what ya did.” 

As his eyes glossed over, Suna was grateful Atsumu wasn’t looking at him. It felt good to have his feelings acknowledged, even if by the one person who was at the other end of them. If only he could do anything in return. 

“I’ll help you find him.” 

“Huh? Ah… I don’t know if that is necessary. He didn’t finalise his purchase after all, so we can’t know if he wants me back.” He knew his feelings were not unfounded. It was partly his phone for being harsh with his words in the modesty of his fury. 

“To go through most of the procedures means your brother loves you a lot. I went through the same procedures, remember? Him not finalising the order could’ve had many reasons, but I doubt any of them revolves around how important you are to him.” Atsumu’s eyes seemed hollow as the possibility of his brother not wanting him was engraved in his mind as a bleeding wound refusing to heal. 

“I… I’ll be the one in direct contact with him if we manage to find him. That way, you can avoid facing any unpleasant reaction from those you’re fearing." He didn’t know who he was doing this for, Atsumu, who seemed in desperate need for his brother the moment he remembered him or for himself to atone for his previous sin of trying to resurrect his Adam. 

If Suna’s eyes were glossed over, Atsumu skipped that stage and just started crying. ”Thank you, Suna- eh, Rin-” a hiccup interrupted him again, and Suna smiled. “Sunarin isn’t bad either.”  

They were both two messes that were brought to collide.

A quiet calm settled over after as each sipped on their tea, and it felt like a fresh start, which seemed to be too much for Atsumu. “I would’ve preferred if we cavemen from different tribes were forced together than to be like this.” 

Suna stared at him, dumbfounded. He did not even know what to say to that. “I preferred you when you were silent because how did your thought process take you there?”

He blushed with embarrassment and then groaned. He did not mean to speak out loud as he was just thinking of nonsense to calm himself, but he was easy to read because the next thing he heard was Suna chuckling.

If they were to be asked how they moved past their anger,  neither of them would come up with an answer because once they talked, tides stabilised as though the storm was all hallucinated. That did not mean they moved forward from their rage and pain, but it was directed elsewhere. 

As days went by, they learned to walk around each other.

Moving past a relationship that only consisted of screaming matches did not come naturally to them. They still fought, Atsumu biting more than he should’ve, and Suna practised silence as a punishment for both of them. He knew it wasn’t healthy, but walking around Atsumu wasn’t easy. Despite that, he was actively trying to change.

“Do you want to go out to eat? I don’t think you’ve gotten out ever since you…got here.” Atsumu observed him for a while, not saying anything or moving. “I mean… you can’t stay in my apartment for the upcoming years. You’ll get bored… it’s better to familiarise yourself with the area, with me… that way, you can go out alone later.” Suna was getting unsure if it wasn’t for Atsumu’s small nod that was followed by a grin that enveloped his facial expression. It made Suna feel slightly warm. It was probably the first time he smiled genuinely with no sadness or snicker behind. 

What a tragic man, not that he was any better.

What Suna didn’t count for was the awkwardness that going out with Atsumu entailed. He knew it was intended to be a means to get to know him better, but to have a full-grown man to his side that he was unfamiliar with and incapable of striking up a conversation with was making his hands sweaty. 

“Eh, so did you remember anything else?” It hadn't been a full minute since they left, or maybe it had been ten minutes, but time seemed to be dragging for him. He couldn't bear the silence.

Again, Atsumu didn’t answer for a while. Suna followed his gaze to see him staring at a mother lecturing her children, who were now helping her carry the groceries.” before he gave in to longing, he turned to face him. “Huh, What did you say?” He didn’t give him time to repeat himself, like a delayed radio. “ Oh, nothing much. I remember snippets of my childhood and high school, but nothing I can hold onto… I can’t even remember how Osamu looks right now.” 

“I would say not so different from how you’re currently looking,” he said, hoping that would offer some reassurance. Looking at it this way, Suna no longer knew who was in the worst situation. As much as his memories of Nobutshi hurt (they don’t hurt as much anymore), they are still precious to him. Pain is a sign of the love given, proof that he lived through these memories. Losing all of it would force a reset that would shake his world.

Going out with Atsumu rendered Suna more confused than he originally was. He did not find it in himself to hold the baseless grudge he claimed to have rooted within him. Not when Atsumu was re-experiencing many of his firsts with him, although tainted with a yearning for his old life. Suna didn’t know this man, but that didn’t stop him from secretly taking a few pictures of him smiling at the ugly fox plushie in the shop or him tripping over his own feet whilst that video accidentally captured that moment. He welcomed the emotion.. It was almost endearing how Atsumu would turn to yell at him, holding no heat behind his words, whenever he did something embarrassing if he weren’t at the receiving end of it. 

He still didn’t represent an ounce of Nobutshi’s character, but the longer the day stretched, the more he realised he didn’t want him to. Maybe all his resentment before was because he was still searching for someone else in him. He was almost glad Atsumu was the polar opposite of his lover because if he had even a hint of resemblance, it would have driven Suna to madness, to the point where he might forget who Nobutshi ever was.

Or who Atsumu is about to become.

The day quickly turned into days. Nothing much changed except the feeling of familiarity coming from Atsumu’s body whenever he stood beside him. Nothing much changed as clouds went through their life cycle, followed by rain that soaked the land, except for Atsumu, who slowly crawled into his life, not filling any gaps but rather creating a new place for himself. Looking at him was like glaring in the eyes of his mistakes, essentially due to how he acted when they first collided. Seeing him now, Suna realised as annoying as he could be, Atsumu did not deserve any of that. And for that, he felt guilty. 

He was slightly grateful to have Atsumu be annoying, as odd as it can sound, because it was a sign that he was presenting himself as he was more.

Days turned into weeks, and despite Suna having to go back to work, he was glad he got to go out with Atsumu when he could. He would have been worried about him if he was to be left at home, only waiting for him to get back. Going back to work also helped with their relationship. Neither realised how important it was to have time separately for reasons other than arguing. It felt like they were building their friendship on more stable ground. This also made their weekends more fulfilling as they fell into a routine they knew was only temporary.

“Do ya want to order food?”

Suna looked up from his laptop. Getting interrupted in the middle of his game was a dangerous move, but he had a grey screen either way, so it didn’t matter. He shrugged, muttering a ‘sure’.

“I’m craving fatty tuna, but this shop doesn’t do deliveries because it’s a bit far.” His disappointment was contagious because as ‘defeat’ flashed on his screen, Suna stood up. “You can still order it. I’ll drive there to pick it up. My treat, not that you have any money on you.” He was joking, but for a second, he tensed, afraid he may have brought up a sore subject. They both know Atsumu can’t currently do anything besides existing. Luckily, he just pouted for a second before grinning. “Thanks, Sunarin! I’ll wait here like a princess.”

His eye twitched at the nickname before remembering he allowed it in a moment of vulnerability. It was his fault, really.

The shop was on the other end of the town; no wonder he'd never heard of it. Stepping in, he had to rethink whether he had drunk water or not in the past twenty-four hours because he was seeing a replica of Atsumu– a tired, brown-haired replica, wearing the face of grief along with the same face in his house. 

Depression

He stumbled, unsure of how to move forward. His conversation with Atsumu flashed before his eyes. He promised him he would help find him, but it wasn’t meant to happen so soon, so suddenly. If he held back his tears at the entrance of an onigiri shop, no one was there to witness it and stand to testify. Seeing Osamu working while being worn out and clouded by invisible thoughts was painful. He could practically feel Atsumu’s ghost lingering in the air. He never truly sat to think about it, but seeing his brother made him grasp the reality of Atsumu being dead. The only time he dwelled on it was when comparing him to who he considered to be his other half, his lover, but what are twins if not two different lives born from one, an authentic copy of each other? Did that mean Atsumu felt this way too but hid his emotions behind a brave façade because he felt trapped, with no one else to rely on except an already broken man? 

His chest tightened. It was so random, unprompted, but he was experiencing grief all over again and so fast, for Atsumu this time, despite knowing he was ‘back’. It was odd to be now grieving a man whom he had initially known who died once when they first met.

As his hands shook, he was grateful to have given Atsumu a phone after their truce. The other man picked up at the first beep, and for a moment, Suna felt grounded. He was back. He was brought back to reality. He couldn't remember what he said to Atsumu. He didn’t understand why it felt like Atsumu was comforting him. However, if he stopped to listen, he’d hear the other hiccuping while trying to maintain his composure. 

Suna wished he could be there with him, even if he probably wouldn’t know what to do if he was.

“Would you- should I talk to him now?” Glancing back at Osamu, Suna felt reluctant but also unwilling to let the other man continue feeling miserable. It was a mixture of empathy and an acknowledgement of Atsumu’s reflection in him, and that gave him an odd pang in his heart. They worked hard to rectify what Suna messed up at the start. Even though it wasn’t the same person, he felt like a culprit. Osamu was an integral part of the story, and if it hadn’t been for him, this situation may not have happened, or he may have been stuck with someone else.

He didn’t hear what Atsumu said but didn’t need to. He didn’t know if he’d have the courage to come back here in the future. Suna no longer wanted to play games with fate.

As he walked towards the counter, he started feeling unsure. How could he even approach such a situation? 

“Hello, welcome to Onigiri Miya. Are you going to order to eat here or get your takeaway?” Miya, is that their last name?

“Eh, hi, I’m here to pick up an order.” he shifted uncomfortably. “Miya-san, I’m… also here to talk to you about something important.” He couldn't hear his own voice compared to his heartbeats that were growing louder than thunder in the middle of June, unexpected but destructive. 

Atsumu’s worn-out reflection was confused, but he nodded anyway, telling his co-worker something. The second, stretching into minutes in Suna’s universe was thought to serve him as a chance to rehearse what to say, except he was still not ready. He wished he could say, ‘You’re alive, the you that lives separately from you is alive, the you that’s another person is alive’, but he just followed him to another table, although he wished they were in a more private place. “Can we… go somewhere more private? It’s a sensitive matter.” he hoped the urgency was evident in his voice. 

Osamu was not a big talker, but he still wore- an annoyed expression as quickly as his brother. “Who are you?” 

Shifting uncomfortably, Suna finally met his gaze. “This is about the Android program.” Watching the other’s expression harden, he knew he had not said the right thing.

“Are you here to harass me about not go-” 

“No, gods, no. It’s complicated. I- you see, I am also a customer or eh- I don’t even know what to call that.” a sense of shame washed over him. He talked about it for the first time in the past few months. He treated Atsumu like a dirty secret for the longest time ever, or maybe it was just himself and his grief that he hated. As exhausted and tired as Osamu seemed to be, Suna didn’t want to admit it, but he was stronger than him. 

Sensing the discomfort oozing from him, Osamu nodded and led him to his office. 

Sitting facing him, he felt like he was back to the therapist's office, and he wanted to confess all his feelings. Like a sinner, someone seeking help, or a criminal, his tongue was tied for a while. 

Resigning to reality, as there was no right way to admit such truth, he spoke. His voice started unsure, uneven and lacking breath, but he spoke. He did not know how to do any of this right, so he just started from where his memories took him, when he was visiting the grave of someone he didn’t think of for a while. He chuckled as tears slid down his cheeks like words telling the rest of the story, filling the gaps he couldn’t confess. 

Osamu listened, or at least it looked like he was until he crumbled and fell and looked more identical to Suna’s turmoil than Atsumu’s face. His eyes refused to call Suna a liar, not when he glared at the closet behind or when he blinked without opening back his eyes for a minute, waiting for the voice that told the story to finish it, to paint a new reality that felt like waking up in a lucid dream, seeking reality that’ll never be reached anymore.

"So... Tsumu is... he's back?" It was the first time he had spoken since they entered the room, his voice sounding as though he hadn't used it for a week, or perhaps it was the vulnerable, genuine tone that lay dormant behind the facade of bravery he believed he was wearing. He couldn't comprehend how fate could make such a mistake, crushing one man's hopes only to comfort another who hadn't even won the fight. Having Atsumu back when the man before him had done everything felt like being crowned the winner of a race he had come in last.

Suna nodded, feeling better now that the weight was shared with someone who remembered not only his own history but also the history of another. “We can go back together, or I’ll wait for you to close.”

“My job can be damned if it ever stood as a barrier between me and my brother. I already lost him once. My heart won’t be at ease until I punch his shoulder and feel it’s real.” he stood up, walking next to Suna. “I didn’t know you had enough faith in him to believe he won’t burn your house down.” Osamu looked nicer now and more approachable. “I may look like I’m holding it together, but I could pass out if we don’t leave now. I’ll call my partner on the way…” 

He went to tell his co-workers something, but Suna saw how his hand slightly shook as he handed over the keys. Osamu was frantic, but he was absorbing that. He understood that it wasn’t the place nor time for such feelings to overflow.

Suna’s thoughts took him back to Atsumu, and he wondered how he was fairing. It must be agonising just to wait, incapable of doing anything else. 

Driving back was an out-of-body experience, and Suna did not even notice that Osamu still packed the fatty tuna. The latter did not waste a second to grab his phone and start telling the story to whoever was on the other end, imperfect, in snippets, holding his tears, but whoever was at the other end seemed to soothe him, even if it took the whole ride. Did Atsumu need such comfort? Who would listen to his imperfect storytelling?

Suna did not know why his train of thoughts kept circling back to Atsumu, although it shouldn’t have been surprising since he was a primary piece of the puzzle – a puzzle that was already finished and put together. He blamed it on guilt because he realised how badly he treated him, and he felt he’d never do enough to atone. Suna was a man of many secret, silent ambitions, and love was one of his many goals in life, although people around him who didn’t know him well would call him a mediocre player with no future for a happy love life as he didn’t seem like he’d even seek it. He proved them wrong until his love life was tainted with the marks of death, impossible to wash off. But love was one of his ambitions in life, so he fought to have it back. However, spending months grieving, only to make a choice that reset it all to zero, only for him to have a constant rebuttal with fate, grow angry – super angry and mean, but although he was still seeking love, he didn’t think much of what started it all, of who drove him to do all that; Nobutshi.

He didn’t have time to think of it before, but thinking of his past lover no longer hurt. Maybe it was because now his heart was full of shame. He shouldn’t be hard on himself. He knew he shouldn’t. He was in pain, but it still weighed down on him.

“We’re here.” He finally spoke, parking. Osamu was still on the phone.

“Okay, I’ll call you again as soon as- yeah. Bye, Aran, love you.” hanging up, he exhaled as if brought back to reality. He looked at Suna as if unsure, as if to beg to stop time for a while, for him to recompose himself. 

But he didn’t need to, because Atsumu wasn’t even inside the house. He was sitting on the stairs, shaking his legs and resting his head between his hands. He didn’t notice them at first, nor did they, not until Osamu spotted him and stopped in his tracks. 

“Tsumu..” he didn’t say it loudly, Suna believed he imagined it, but it was enough to get Atsumu’s attention.

Osamu’s knees wobbled, losing all strength he desperately tried to hold onto, falling on the floor. He sobbed quietly as the other’s arms wrapped him in a tight hug. “I had to come back. I can’t let ya beat me into being happier.”

Whatever Osamu said was barely understandable, but Atsumu seemed to understand him just fine. Although tiredness made Osamu look ten years older, at this moment, he seemed like a younger brother getting put back together by his sibling. 

“Y’er too big for this world Tsumu… you’re supposed to be the one between us two to live longer.” Backed away from Atsumu, who towered over him, he stood back up on his feet. He took his time to stare at him before he started poking him. 

“Stop, ya know I’m ticklish.” 

“You feel real, you’re really back.” Or maybe he was just losing it, his tears still falling. Suna thought he’d feel envious seeing this, but he was just warm all over. It felt right seeing them two gain back some of the glow in their eyes. He could feel something inside of him falling back to its place just watching the brothers reunite.

"Y'always have been such an ugly crier, Samu. Y'embarrassin' me in front of Sunarin," he turned to Suna and flashed him a cheeky grin. The latter turned around, feeling embarrassed, probably because he was put under stop in the midst of an emotional family moment. Yes, definitely because of that. 

They thought they’d have many questions to ask, but as the reunion happened, the world’s noise stopped. Suna felt at ease, but that didn’t last long as he realised what this meant. Atsumu did not belong to him. He wasn’t a friend he had all the time in the world to get to know and learn to have around. He was alive, and he was someone else’s brother and family.

Despite the fact that half the time they spent together was spent in tension, looking back at it, Suna wondered if he had ever hated him. 

Reliving their first meeting while the twins were coming to terms with the fact they didn’t lose each other, Suna froze. Revisiting his own memories felt like he was experiencing them for the first time, and he wondered what had changed. Was it the fact that Atsumu was now a friend? He spent the first few days denying his identity, forcing him to see himself as Nobutshi. That was not right, not even for Nobutshi. He bit his lips as regret seeped its way in again. He was happy until his last moment with Nobutshi, yet he found a way to create a miserable memory that links back to him with someone who wasn’t him. And now he’ll have to carry with him a bad memory of Nobutshi, Atsumu, and himself unless he finds a way to remember them differently.

A lot of his moments with Atsumu were filled with pain, even when they talked it through because Atsumu didn’t remember much. However, relying on Suna wasn’t all that bad. Reintroducing him to things again made him feel useful and appreciated, and for someone who felt his heart drown in waves of sorrow for the longest time ever, despite being in a difficult position, Atsumu managed to make some of that pain bearable and made his house feel less lonely. 

But Atsumu was no longer alone anymore, and he had no reason to keep contact with him. 

He sensed himself fade into the background, even after inviting the twins inside, even after making them tea – remembering Atsumu’s favourite, and even while answering back to them.

“Thank you for caring for my brother– and my carelessness, Suna san.” 

Smiling but not lifting his eyes to meet their gazes, he sipped on his tea, sighing. “You can call me Suna. Atsumu already butchered my name… and you have nothing to thank me for. I didn’t treat him right for a long while, thinking it would somehow save me from my own grief. And you did nothing wrong.” He looked at them, fixating on Atsumu. “The system fucked us over but… it’s nothing to regret. You got your brother back, and… I got a friend. If ever, it’s a happy accident.” 

Both of them stared at him in silence, but Atsumu broke it, groaning. “Did ya just indirectly quote Bob Ross?” 

“Shut yer trap Tsumu, ye have been telling me ye didn’t even remember yer name a few months ago, but ye remember Bob Ross?” 

It felt domestic, and Suna did not belong in this scenario. The Miya twins move past sorrows like a music beat, rhythmically and beautifully, like tragedy never struck home, like home was never gone.

They both cried a lot, then quickly settled back to bickering with no bite. Reminders of the past were evident on Osamu whenever he zoned out as if he couldn’t believe this was happening, worried that if he blinked he would find himself back in his shop kitchen, alone and brotherless. Atsumu must’ve noticed that. He read his brother in the palm of his hand. So he tried being louder, more annoying, more punching, and jumping around to avoid having the other zone out. It was a bond that carried through the invisible threads to alter destiny.

They ate the food Osamu brought at some point, which led to Atsumu talking for ten minutes about how Osamu makes the best onigiri and how glad he was to forget how it tastes to experience it again. Osamu looked at him confused, asking how he could even digest, only to shrug. Neither of them would understand how Atsumu was put back together, but it felt like he was never gone.

Hours passed, and the mood was getting comfortable. Osamu looked at them, noticing how the weird tension was finally dying out, and Suna’s secret glances at Atsumu carried less anguish. “I’ll get going. I think it may be too sudden for Atsumu to come with me now."He really wanted to stay beside his brother, but today was too much for both of them. “I’ll bring ya around tomorrow to familiarise ya with my house and workplace. Maybe it’ll trigger some memories.” He turned to Suna, smiling. “Thank ya again Suna. I hope ya don’t mind keeping this puppy for an extra few days until everything stabilises and I prepare a room for him.” 

“As long as he doesn’t bark at night.”

Osamu hugged his brother another time, exchanging his phone number with him. 

Once he left, silence settled in the room again, and Suna wondered if that’s how it would become once he was left alone again. Despite the predicament, Suna relied on Atsumu’s presence, but he couldn’t ask him to stay in contact with him. He probably only reminded him of bad memories. For someone who used to always speak his mind, the matters of the heart usually tied him down around his own tongue, unable to speak out the words unless they were in a teasing tone.

He was tired. His heart was tired. He had planned to ask Atsumu if he wanted to talk about today, if he wanted to watch a movie, to decompose all the emotions of today, but Suna was tired. He didn’t realise when he closed his eyes on the living room couch. At some point, he felt a faint touch that just helped push him to lay down fully before the weight of blankets covered him. He wanted to get up because he would be wasting time spent with Atsumu before he was gone. Suna was too foggy-minded to recognise the flying thought he had of how he was glad to end up giving Atsumu another chance in life because it had many implications. Osamu said it. He was full of life and too big for this world. Maybe that was why it was hard at first to get into Suna’s little bubble. But now that he shaped the latter’s life differently, he would get back to his own real life, leaving Suna with more of a void than before he showed up.

Acceptance

He woke up after god knows how long to see Atsumu sitting on the other end of the couch, texting, with Suna’s legs on his lap. He felt himself heat up as he dragged back his feet. He tried to speak, but his voice failed him, resulting in a choked whisper. Atsumu turned to him and slightly pouted. “Not only did ya ditch me, but ya hogged all of the couch. I had to squeeze my way in.” Why is he acting even more comfortable? During the period when Suna and Atsumu talked things over and tried to build a healthier friendship, they became at ease in each other’s company, but they still had actions that were considered awkward. Suna didn’t know when they moved past it, nor did he understand the other man. He did notice he tends to be tactile, but still. It always seemed like it was him who was tiptoeing around the other.

He took a moment to shake sleep off him, nuzzling more into the blankets that Atsumu must’ve covered him with when he fell asleep.  He observed the other man, who texted a bit more, probably with his brother, before he turned to look at Suna. As many moments before, the air grew still between. Atsumu seemed to be thinking of something as he stared at him. 

“I feel like the only time this was mentioned was when we were bickering, but do ya wanna tell me about Nobutshi?” Why was he asking about him out of nowhere? Suna hesitated, preparing for his mind to overwork and playback all of their memories together that turned bitter, except it didn’t happen. 

Wait.

When did he last think of Nobutshi, wishing he was here? When did thinking of Nobutshi when seeing Atsumu turn into thinking of Nobutshi as a good part of his past? 

For the first time in forever, he told Atsumu about Nobutshi, and the other man listened, adding commentary when necessary, mostly to insult Suna’s mother, who stopped talking to him when he came out to his family. “My mom would take ya i-” he stopped the sentence midway, awkwardly chuckling. “Who would’ve thought I’d gain my memories of my mom back while insulting yers. Ha ha…” The light in the living room was dim as the only source was the kitchen’s lamp, yet Suna could still see Atsumu’s face redden a bit. He didn’t take him for a guy who’d be easily embarrassed, not when he was the same guy who won against a kid for the fox plushie one day when they went out to the same shop they visited on their first outing.

Talking about his ex-lover was not as painful as he expected it to be, and Atsumu was surprisingly a good listener. Suna felt heard, and that took a weight off his shoulders. Only for it to be replaced by the thought that this was temporary, Atsumu would soon leave him to live with his brother, and he needed to come to terms with it. 

“It’s kinda crazy how we’re basically tied together, right?” Atsumu was now fidgeting with his phone. 

“What?” 

“I mean, our hearts are connected, right? Y’er part of my life now, even if I’m not necessarily part of yers.” He was stupid. How could he have forgotten such an important detail? He so emerged in the thought of Atsumu being a complete, normal human who forgot how he got to be here to begin with. He is a human in an Android body, an Android with a heart that will beat as long as he does. 

Was that why he was feeling anxious about not seeing him again? He was just fooling himself; he knew the answer to that, but it was too early to acknowledge it.

“You’re lucky that I’m a healthy athlete. You’ll be living for a long while.” 

Their conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm after, and Suna got to know Atsumu a little more, with more information to store here and there.

Days came and went, and Osamu brought his boyfriend to Atsumu. Aran was not a man to shy away from the few tears that dropped off his face. He grew up with the twins; their mom loved him more, and his parents adored the twins despite still not differentiating between them.

Days came and went, and Atsumu clings more to Suna as both slowly heal from their initial missteps. Suna, forever carried by the ghost of his mistakes, apologised a few times more, only to end up smacked by Atsumu. The more comfortable they grew together, the meaner they became to each other, like a mean dog growing old and cranky, losing the effect of its threatening barks each day because, at the end of the day, it was harmless bickering: a means for them to move forward.

Days come and go, and Atsumu moves back with Osamu, after his room is finally ready. Claiming that the rent is not free, Atsumu couldn’t return to his old job, so he started working at the restaurant. Suna was happy for him. It was good to see him finally gain control over his life. A self-fulfilled Atsumu was a sight he did not think he needed. However, loneliness threatened to crawl its way back into his life as he saw him less and less. He made time for the twins as a new asset to his life. He ate at the restaurant a few times a week, even if it meant driving for a while after a long training day. Due to that new routine, he got introduced to many childhood friends and old co-workers, each having a personal breakdown. Atsumu was very loved, and the people around him worked hard to live with the new reality. 

“You look happier,” Komori said one day as they were changing back after practice. He was one of his closest friends on and off the team, but not close enough to confess to him everything that transpired. Suna felt ashamed and stressed, and he only sought solitude during that period. He probably did not notice how worried people around him were. He looked back at Komori, giving him a genuine smile. “The best I have felt for a while.” 

As days went by, turning to weeks, to a month, then two, he noticed he was no longer grieving death. The acceptance of loss and death introduced itself into his life slowly. Maybe Nobutshi was not meant to live beyond twenty-six years. Maybe Atsumu was meant to be shared with the world a bit more. He still visited Nobutshi’s grave whenever he could, but his time was now divided between that and spending time with the living. He made sure to narrate to Nobutshi about his adventures, his new friends, and Atsumu, even if that made him feel a bit guilty.

But he couldn’t not, because Atsumu wormed his way into everyone’s life – into his life, because Atsumu’s heart beats at the rhythms of his own heart.

He became part of his routine. Atsumu spent at least a day in Suna’s house, and as the latter grew closer to Osamu and the rest.in time, Atsumu and Suna started creating mischief, resulting in them getting kicked out of the shop regularly. Even if the instigator was always Atsumu, Suna was there to document.

He needed the memories. He needed to make sense of the feeling growing in his chest, slowly as plant roots claiming a garden their new home. Suna needed to figure out why he became more talkative around the other man

It was Valentine's Day. Suna hated that day, but he didn’t hate it much this year, not when he went to Onigiri Miyas only to be served heart-shaped onigiris and the plushie of that ugly fox. 

“It was very hard to get a second copy of that fox, Sunarin,” Atsumu complained. 

“Is this… your marketing strategy, heart onigiri... And ugly fox plushies?” A smirk was making its way onto Suna’s face, but he was still confused.

Osamu was passing by, bringing dishes to other clients. “That’s just Tsumu for ya. He fought… well, he said he fought another child to get ya a matching fox plushie. And I told him the heart onigiri looked like failed kidneys on display, but he didn’t want to listen.” 

He turned back to look at the other man, who was now crimson red. If he was to continue this way, Suna may end up killing both of them due to early heart failure. “Are you up for dinner tonight?” he asked, exasperated. 

“Are ya asking me out on a date, Sunarin? Are ya perhaps in love with me?” he laughed. He loved it when Atsumu faked his confidence. 

“You stole my heart, quite literally… don’t think of the technicalities though. Is that a yes?” 

Atsumu stuttered at Suna’s blatant flirtation, not really expecting him to join him in his banter. Suna couldn’t help but laugh at Atsumu’s hopeless state.

It was a yes. Several hours later, they found themselves tangled on the couch, watching trashy rom-coms with Atsumu’s warm hands rubbing Suna’s, who, for some reason, wasn’t bothered by how freezing cold he was.

“How are ya the human one? Yer hands are freezing.” he didn't notice that the other man was staring at him for quite a while, a contemplating look on his face. He did not seem to be listening to whatever he was saying, but the blush on his face said he was getting warmer.

“Oh my god, Sunarin, if you wanna kiss m- ommf.” he felt Suna smile into the kiss before pulling back for a short while. “I like you so much better when you’re silent.” 

“I doubt that,” Atsumu said before he leaned in for another kiss.

Maybe he will be just fine. 

Maybe they will be just fine. 

Because waves always end up petering out.

—-------The End ---