Mitobe is the only living human being to witness Imayoshi's morning routine.
Imayoshi gets up, slips off the sleep mask he wears every night, and stumbles into the bathroom, his hand over his eyes even in the dimness of their bedroom.
Imayoshi doesn't turn on the bathroom light, but in the darkness manages to find the eye drops where he left them last night. He puts two drops in each eye, hissing when the prescription liquid makes contact, holding them shut with his fingers for the count of ten, then blinks rapidly before letting his eyelids fall closed again.
Imayoshi brushes his teeth with his lids firmly closed to give the drops more time to coat the surface of his eyeballs, and only after all this is done, does he put on his glasses – after unwrapping them from the case and cloth they've rested in all night – and opens his blood-shot eyes for the first real time of the morning. He combs his hair carelessly, looks at Mitobe and winks, and then closes his lids over those elusive smoky orbs.
Mitobe feels honored to witness these moments before the sly man is at his best. There is a vulnerability in those seconds that speaks volumes about the trust they've built between the two of them.
Mitobe launches the allergen app on his phone and sets it for Tokyo. The cedar pollen level is extremely high. He shows the dangerous number to Imayoshi, who simply grins like allergies are nothing more than a rival to beat.
"That's life in Tokyo, Rin, and just another reason I want ta get back to ya and Osaka full-time."