the little things
It's exactly three o'clock in the morning.
Nijimura is on his way back to Japan after visiting his family in L.A., who all are apparently applying for their American citizenships, not even thinking to at least notify him. He'd gone out drinking with his friends the previous night, and now he's starting to regret it a little because he hasn't had much time to sleep, but not really. He is currently trying to muddle through the hour-long layover in San Francisco with minimal distractions to keep him busy, and he doesn't really know whether if he's succeeding or not. He yawns as he scans the schedule board, and learns, with dismay, that his connecting flight to Narita is delayed.
The airport is very nearly silent, the scanty number of passengers in sight either nodding off peacefully or staring at the ceiling in deep contemplation of the universe. Nijimura is bored out of his mind after watching the nth plane taxi to and from their assigned runways, but he can't afford to fall asleep just in case he misses the boarding announcement or something sad like that, so in a drowsy haze, he thinks of the last time he'd seen Akashi, during exam period before he'd left for America.
The last time he'd seen Akashi wasn't altogether a pleasant memory, but it was still kind of entertaining, even if it was at his own expense. Nijimura must have been living a tragedy or something, because he's pretty sure that he'd almost developed hypothermia at the time and he might as well have been starring in a Shakespeare play, considering what had transpired. Long story short, though, Akashi had called him late at night for some obscure emergency - he had hung up before Nijimura could really answer the phone, but why else would he call at that kind of time - but he didn't answer the door, which left Nijimura resorting to pathetically standing directly underneath Akashi's fifth floor balcony, glaring up at an angle to catch a glimpse of Akashi. Just because they've become pretty good bros doesn't mean that he could just ignore Nijimura like that - in fact, becoming pretty good bros should be discouraging this type of behaviour. (Bros isn't quite the right word to describe them, and frankly Nijimura doesn't know what would be the right word to describe them, but close enough.) He could even see Akashi's back through the glass door, bent over a lamp-lit desktop probably staring at his laptop.
By the time Nijimura had finally gotten his attention by throwing pieces of gravel at his balcony door, Akashi had leaned down and answered his inquiries with, "I must have accidentally dialed you, I'm very sorry" which didn't explain anything at all, to be honest. How does a person accidentally dial someone without even noticing, anyway, is what Nijimura would like to know. Maybe Nijimura was overreacting a bit, but it wouldn't have been as infuriating if he hadn't looked so otherworldly blinking down at Nijimura with moonlight in his unkempt hair and shadows shrouding half of his face, practically glowing in a silvery light. He didn't even invite Nijimura in for all his efforts.
Nijimura doesn't exactly know why, but he's been thinking of Akashi an awful lot lately. Maybe it's because he always finds himself preferring Akashi's company over his other uni friends', or maybe it's because Akashi had been the only one that offered to pick him up at Narita airport. Nijimura isn't the sentimental type, but still. It's kind of touching.
He feels content thinking about Akashi, though, thinks that he likes Akashi a lot, maybe too much, but it feels right, so maybe he should tell him that. He is ready to hit 'send' once he's done typing out his incoherent feelings in a text, but thinks better of it at the last second because his thoughts are probably too murky for a proper confession; his thoughts even feel heavy, how is that even possible - or maybe it's actually his head that feels heavy, who knows.
Nijimura chances a look at the time, and curses inwardly, because he's too exhausted to curse out loud. Also, he doesn't want to wake the baby who'd cried the entire duration of the flight from L.A. He really doesn't have anything against babies, but his head was beginning to ache even without the aid of a wailing baby.
He composes a new message for Akashi instead. The light emitted by the screen of his phone kind of hurts his eyes, but Nijimura fears that if he closes his eyes, they will stay like that permanently.
What are you up to right now
He doesn't expect an immediate answer, because Akashi's probably very occupied with being productive, so he attributes that as to why when he receives a response after barely a minute, he feels stupendously giddy. To be honest, he's kind of reluctant to formulate a plan of action for a confession, because this is all ridiculous and will end badly in many aspects - but then again, it makes him overly happy even though it increasingly feels like his head is about to shatter with every pulse of his heart, so he feels like he should address it eventually.
Completing the latest project. You are still in San Francisco, correct?
Nijimura huffs, no, he's obviously texting Akashi on the airplane, but Akashi does have rhetorical tendencies, and they're kind of endearing. He checks the time again and sees that it's still about half an hour until departure.
Yeah I am, you still picking me up right? The public transit would be a horrid experience also taxi drivers make me feel awkward
Nijimura kind of wonders if his eyes will be okay, they feel so rigid in his eye sockets - he's not even making sense anymore, what's life coming to - so he decides that closing his eyes won't be the end of the world. His phone buzzes in his hands a short time later.
Of course. Was your plane delayed? I presumed that you would have already boarded half an hour ago.
Nijimura types a reply and closes his eyes again, waiting for Akashi's response. Somehow, Nijimura makes it through the rest of the layover like this, falling half-asleep and waiting on the next message to startle him awake.
.
.
.
Nijimura is immensely relieved at the prospect of only having to drag one small suitcase around because the baby had started crying again on the flight, and once she'd stopped another baby had carried on the job for her, which meant that the bags beneath Nijimura's eyes are starting to get out of control.
Akashi is late, Nijimura realizes after retrieving his luggage and checking his phone. He waits, feeling annoyed even though he should be grateful that Akashi is coming to pick him up at all, but he decides to attribute that to his lack of sleep.
When Akashi does arrive, it is almost an hour later. He is carrying an umbrella as he greets Nijimura, raindrops clinging to the clear plastic.
It's raining heavily when they make it outside. Akashi flicks the umbrella open, and for a moment, Nijimura is content to just stand there beside Akashi, watching rivulets of rain traverse across the expanse of the canopy.
"Akashi. I have something to tell you," Nijimura says.
"Yes?" Akashi turns slightly to face him, expectant.
Nijimura opens his mouth, but suddenly no string of words that comes to mind sounds right. The beginning syllable of a word hangs in the back of his throat, but it's plumed out soundlessly, cold air and silence.
Maybe he should've actually planned beforehand, but it's too late to be upset about that now. Anyway, it's not like his brain had been capable of planning prior to this, so he probably shouldn't be too harsh on it for not allowing him the chance to wisely think things through. Maybe he could lie and say something totally insignificant, but what the hell, whatever, that's backing down and Nijimura won't stand for it.
Nijimura breaks his train of thought in lieu of watching Akashi watch him, observingly, like he's some sort of specimen in a research lab. It's a bit freaky, and Nijimura would tell him to stop if he is any less fond of those creepy eyes, which he is not.
"What are you doing?" he asks instead, suspicious.
"You were awake very early in the morning," Akashi admits without falter. "You were saying?"
Nijimura fixes him a withering look, partly because of his slightly scathing comment and partly because Nijimura experiencing sleep deprivation is so much better than Akashi experiencing sleep deprivation. Akashi doesn't seem to get the message.
Akashi reminds him a bit of Tatsuya, for some reason. Nijimura comes to the conclusion that maybe he has just formed a strange correlation between Akashi and Tatsuya because they're both very invasive in his mind. He thinks of Akashi so often that he's starting to think that it's become a habit of his, much like how he had thought of Tatsuya's prettiness every other hour or so when he'd been younger. And he even thinks that now, Tatsuya's really pretty - maybe he needs help, this doesn't seem very natural - which is absolute blasphemy because for one, he's trying to confess to Akashi for goodness' sake, and for another, this is what he ends up saying out loud. He realizes a second too late, only after the words have already sounded in his ears and, unfortunately, Akashi's too.
Nijimura cringes, hard enough that he hopes it will distort space and time and somehow the clock will have wound backwards by the time he opens his eyes again. When he does, though, Akashi is still staring at him expectantly, like before, only with the addition of a faint note of perplexity in the set of his brows. Nijimura steels his nerves, fills his mind with the adorable hint of confusion that is very much out of place in Akashi's expression, and manages to make it slightly more awkward by blurting, "but you're prettier?"
This isn't even a confession anymore; if Nijimura had to assign it a name, then this was shameless flirting (though on his part, he does feel a lot of shame). If he can throw aside how sorry the confession was, though, then at least he gets the satisfaction of watching the transformation of Akashi's expressions, puzzlement melting into surprise into rumination. He does have to give Akashi credit, to some degree, for not giving him oneof his amused looks, since he feels like his entire body is flushed red like a human traffic light and he really, really wishes that he could teleport away to the other side of the world right about now. That three-in-the-morning layover is starting to seem very appealing.
"What I mean is," Nijimura tries again, maybe to clarify, he doesn't really know, but his mind, at that very moment, decides to collapse in on itself because in all honesty, he really doesn't know what out there in existence would salvage this situation. Maybe a black hole, but black holes probably can't be counted on. "What I was trying to say is-"
"I understand, Nijimura-san," Akashi cuts in, which thankfully saves Nijimura from further embarrassment. They stare at each other for a brief second, blankly, and then Akashi cracks a crooked smile, though it kind of resembles a grimace in Nijimura's opinion. Anyhow, it is excruciatingly beautiful and Nijimura feels his heart skip the painfully stereotypical beat. His messy thoughts flicker to Akashi's old smiles from during middle school, tinged with a childhood sweetness that sits pleasantly in his memories like frozen strawberries on his tongue in the summertime, and back to the Akashi standing before him. He thinks to himself that he is still quite the same - that this is still the same insufferable brat smiling the same insufferable smile. It's very worthwhile considering all the suffering involved, he decides.
Nijimura waits for the anticipated explanation that usually follows a statement like that, but it doesn't come. "Do you, now?" he prompts, but it sounds too skeptical.
Akashi is giving him a weird look. "Of course. Although, I'm curious. Who's Tatsuya?"
"Are you trying to change the subject?"
"You brought him up," Akashi points out, matter-of-factly. Nijimura had always hated the way he can so easily make a point. And the fact that he can't really argue against it.
"You can't just ruin the mood like that," he says, even though he's being a bit of a hypocrite, and starts to say more, but Akashi flashes him a crafty smile and in an instant Akashi's face is suddenly tenfolds closer than it was a few seconds ago and Akashi's lips are on his. Upon finally grasping the situation at hand after a hysterical moment of shock, Nijimura almost fears cardiovascular overexertion to the point of some kind of frightening and possibly fatal malfunction. But he kisses back anyways; like all decisions, there are the flip sides of the coin - but at the very least, he's sure that this is one that he won't regret.
Time seems to simultaneously pass and not pass at all in their little world, enveloped by a barricade that seems to be incapable of being trespassed by anything at all. Except for the rain - Akashi's fingers are threaded through his hair and brushing his jawline and the umbrella is on the ground by their feet, rainwater clinging to Akashi's lashes like morning dew to grass blades and his dampened hair plastering to his forehead. Nijimura has to close his eyes before they start to sting.
"You are so cliché sometimes, did you know that?" Nijimura tells him, embarrassingly breathless, once they part. They're both thoroughly drenched by now. "I don't even know what to say."
"Am I?" Akashi asks in such a rhetorical manner that Nijimura has to wonder if he's conscious of how often he does it or if he does it on purpose. (He probably does it on purpose.)
"Let's see," Nijimura says, "kissing in the rain, making me re-enact Shakespeare while you ignored me? I had to throw pebbles at your window the other day."
"Seeing that you could only provide two examples to support your argument, I'm not so inclined to believe you. Besides, you don't seem to dislike it," Akashi tells him almost innocently, if Akashi could be called that, and Nijimura has to refrain from initiating a tussle involving Akashi's hair, but he does let himself glare.
Akashi breathes out a foggy cloud of vapour, cheeks a flustered red. Just the wind, Nijimura convinces himself, and resolutely prevents his eyes from drifting to Akashi's lips. He wonders if maybe Akashi does this on purpose, like with everything else, because he is pretty sure he wasn't this weak-hearted before. The rain cascades down like tiny slivers of glass, pricking chills into his skin. He shivers, watching a small tremble run through Akashi's body as well.
"Idiot," Nijimura breathes, and lets fond chastisement weave into the word, "you're going to catch a cold."
"Idiots don't catch colds," Akashi tells him - Nijimura briefly wonders who Akashi had learned all of this sass from - but evidently takes that as a cue to shuffle his feet to stand nearer.
Nijimura snorts, and bends down to retrieve the fallen umbrella. "You know, for all this cheesy romantic shit, it's kind of freezing. If I get sick, it's your fault."
"You won't get sick," Akashi says, voice shuddering blatantly, reinforcing his point so effectively. Nijimura rolls his eyes.
Droplets of rain drips off of the edge of the umbrella, joining the pitter-patter of the drizzle. They stand in a dazed silence for a while, during which Nijimura's thoughts keep straying to how unpleasant his shirt feels against his skin and how nice it would be if maybe they could share more body heat, before Akashi says, "thank you, Nijimura-san."
Nijimura was really hoping for something that leaned more towards a proposal for handholding. "It's amazing to what extent you're able to botch the atmosphere. What are you even thanking me for?"
Akashi blinks up at him, but he doesn't answer, like Nijimura should already know the answer. Nijimura doesn't know why he's expected to know, but then again, maybe he does, because he thinks that Akashi is not some cryptic mystery of the universe, thinks that Akashi is not so hard to understand if he is willing to try, thinks that maybe Akashi had always been patiently waiting for those willing to try.
"I should thank you, too, you know," Nijimura sighs, and he knows that it's true, that he can't count the number of things that he would like to thank Akashi for, collected in his heart and expanding, second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour.
Akashi nods, eyes soft with collected bits of happiness, says, "the wind is picking up. It would be in our best interest to hurry back."
"We're already soaked down to the bones, Akashi. What difference will it make?" Nijimura reminds him. Akashi tilts his head to the side, and his lips curve up at the corners.
He tentatively leans into Nijimura's side, and fleetingly, Nijimura thinks of the boy back then, the boy who was a better captain for their team than he would ever be, and of the boy who willingly sat watching from the sidelines, watching the inevitable.
"The timing may not be the most suitable, but welcome back, Nijimura-san."
"Yeah, the timing really sucks," Nijimura says, and looks at the slippery cobblestones under their feet, at the fierce red of Akashi's hair. He reaches up to pat his head. Just like old times. "Welcome back."
A/N: written for Basketball Poet Society's rarepair battle; edited it a bit (but not really b/c i'm lazy)
only thought tbh is i should be doing hw why am i doing this