On the couch, Atobe sat with one leg crossed over another, an elbow on the armrest and his head propped up by his fist. His free hand leafed through a book that was on his lap. It looked as though he was completely immersed in his reading, but it was difficult to tell.
Tezuka did not wait for an answer or an indication that Atobe had heard him. He stepped back into the small kitchen to check the kettle. "Tea?"
That roused Atobe's attention. He nodded, but did not even look up when Tezuka sat down a mug on the table, using a magazine as a coaster and the tab of the teabag dangling from its brim. The mug was pink and said DIVA in silver letters. It was a gift from Gakuto, Atobe had explained when Tezuka saw it for the first time and raised eyebrows. He learned many unexpected things about Atobe over the months, that he could take such a joke was the least of them. Perhaps the most surprising fact of all was that Atobe's hair naturally curled outwards. Although this was not unusual in itself, Tezuka used to think Atobe deliberately dried and gelled his hair to give it that little flick. On some days, when Atobe actually had to struggle to keep the curls down, Tezuka's mind still boggled.
Finally Atobe looked up from his book, uncrossed his legs and reached for the tea, pulling glasses off when they became steamed up. He disliked being seen in them, but he only needed them for his long-sightedness when he read, and contact lenses were too expensive in the long run.
One could say that Atobe Keigo became a very different person after his father's company nearly went bankrupt. The Atobe Tezuka came to know no longer lived in a mansion, nor kept horses, nor wore expensive clothing. This Atobe wore university hoodies like everyone else (it was because he was the deputy president of the Student Union and had to show his dedication to the university, Atobe had said in explanation), cooked for himself and did his own laundry. He never talked to Tezuka about it, but it was obvious that denial would not get him very far and Atobe had enough pride and sense to not go down that route.
And his pride was one of the things about Atobe that had not changed. Along with the fact that he hardly ever thanked or apologised to anyone, and that he still spoke as if he owned the world, particularly at Student Union functions. (He and Tezuka had received the same number of votes in the election. Clapping Tezuka on the back, Atobe said he would leave the hard work to him, it did not matter as long as everyone knew he was the deputy only by choice. Later Tezuka was told by Oshitari that what happened to his shoulder several years ago still bothered Atobe, and to this day he still wondered if this was the reason for Atobe to not call for a re-vote as he was entitled to do.) In a sense, Atobe had been stripped bare, but the man inside remained intact. Very few friends left his side and none laughed about his university hoodies. If anything, he became closer to his friends because he finally understood the life of a normal student.
And also the very imperfect world, Tezuka thought to himself, recalling the front page of the tabloids in the morning. Atobe's mother had filed for divorce, seeing no point in staying with a "penniless" husband, the reporters described. Atobe had not yet said a single word about it.
Atobe was reading again, glasses perched on his nose. Sitting down nearby, Tezuka saw that his housemate was actually reading a textbook. Trying to distract himself, probably.
As if he had detected Tezuka's gaze, Atobe sighed, not looking up. "I don't want to have to talk to you."
Tezuka could understand that. Right now, who Atobe needed were Kabaji and Oshitari, who could just listen without offering advice, and hold their tongues when Atobe cursed his mother to hell. Tezuka would not be able to stop himself from trying to talk Atobe logically through the whole episode, point out facts that Atobe already knew but was going to ignore just for today. Atobe hated it whenever Tezuka did that. But Kabaji and Oshitari were in Osaka and would not arrive until the weekend.
He got up to his feet, took his mug and silently headed back towards his room. It would not be nice to make Atobe feel pressurised to talk.
"Tezuka."
Atobe was "Keigo" and Tezuka remained "Tezuka". He was "Keigo" to everyone now, for the simple reason that he requested to be called such. Tezuka could see why.
Tezuka paused and wondered what Atobe was going to say, after a day of silence. "Yes?"
"Get me some more tea."
"Get it yourself."
Atobe lifted his gaze from the book. The annoyance in his eyes was gone in less than a second, replaced by amusement. "You really are an unlovable person."
I know. Tezuka did not deign that comment with a reply, but he sat back down. He could just watch, and be quiet. Atobe looked down at the open pages on his lap again, eyes skimming over meaningless paragraphs, the fist that propped up his head clenched tight and shaking. His other hand was still, and he did not turn a single page in the time that followed.
Tezuka sat silently and thought about everything that made Atobe who he was, everything that he had witnessed, the real Atobe he did not come to know until all the outer layers withered away to reveal the one who wore his hoodie everyday.
And then Atobe closed his book and stood. He eyed Tezuka, Something was on the edge of his lips, but he did not say it.
In the end, that was all Tezuka could do. His legs were stiff when he got up; they must have sat for a long time.
"I'm going to bed." Atobe announced, but as he walked past Tezuka, he stopped. "Tezuka."
There was always something about the way Atobe said his name that made Tezuka uneasy. It was like some sort of a purr. He waited to see what Atobe was going to say.
"That's my hoodie you're wearing."
"It's mine."
"No, it's mine and you've been wearing it the last three days."
"Ah. Perhaps it got mixed up in the wash." Tezuka took off the piece of clothing and shivered. It was too cold to be wearing just a t-shirt.
"Are you stupid or do you think I'm stupid?" Atobe's brows knotted and his eyes narrowed.
It took Tezuka a moment to find some words. "I'll wash it for you."
"You know that's not what I mean."
Tezuka said nothing.
"Why didn't you do anything?" There was something in Atobe's voice. Emotion, Tezuka realised with a start. "You don't want to look like you're taking advantage of the situation. You don't want me to think you're pitying me. You don't know how I feel or what I'm thinking." Atobe answered his own question.
There was nothing left for Tezuka to do but lie. "It was an honest mistake. I'll put it in the wash now."
To Tezuka's surprise, Atobe chuckled. "Whose hoodie do you think I've been wearing for the last three days?" And he laughed as Tezuka's eyes widened in realisation.
"You really are stupid." There were things he wanted to say, but he would not be Atobe if he said any of it. But he could call Tezuka stupid for deciding to watch over him the way he did. They stared at each other for a moment, before Atobe cursed under his breath. "Damn it." He reached forward, as Tezuka stayed frozen and too shocked to move, and his hand paused in the air for a brief moment before he decided it was fine to touch Tezuka's hair. "So stupid and so unlovable."
The subtext was obvious this time. Tezuka took a deep breath to calm himself. "So what are you going to do?"
"What else?" The trademark half-smirk found its way to Atobe's lips. "Make you take out the trash, of course."