"Can I stay over at your house this weekend?"
Suga lowers the water bottle from his lips. "Huh?"
"You see," Daichi says, wiping the sweat from his brow and dropping down onto the bench. "My parents are visiting my aunt in Kanagawa, so I figured we could hang out."
He does remember Daichi mentioning this before, weeks ago, but he'd been under the impression that it was a family trip. "I thought you were going too. Weren't you supposed to be looking at a college down there or something?"
"Yeah, but I don't want to go. I never wanted to go."
Somehow—his stomach twists with those barbed-wire words burden, useless, bothersome—Suga doesn't believe the captain. He's doing this because he doesn't want me to alone. Suga's mind fills with Daichi's words from last night. "I'll be here for you, Suga… I'll be here. I won't let anything else happen to you, I promise." Suga blushes just thinking about it and thinking about everything that he had confessed. He stares hard at the water bottle in his hands.
"Look, you don't have to stay just because of me, Daichi. I'll be fine," the setter sighs.
"I want to stay," Daichi reaffirms, glancing over his shoulder at the team who are starting to grow restless as the break stretches on longer than usual. "Besides, my parents left early since I said I wasn't going. They're already gone. The only thing is that they were kind of pissed. So they said that if I was going to stay, they weren't leaving me money for food—that I had to use my own money I have in savings, you know. So, uh, you'd actually be doing me a huge favor by letting me stay over." He ends with a small, hopeful smile.
Suga knows what he's doing, trying to make it seem that by agreeing, Suga is helping Daichi more than the other way around. The petty part of him appreciates the sentiment.
"Okay," he says and they both stand. "I've just got to tell my parents."
"Your mom said it was okay if you said okay," Daichi says.
This surprises Suga. He'd been joking before about his mom adopting Daichi, but it seems like they're a lot closer than he thought. They obviously talk about him when he's not there. It's weird, your best friend and mom talking without you, right? It irks him slightly.
The setter shakes his head. As long as Daichi keeps his secret as promised then it doesn't matter whom he talks to.
"Also, Asahi invited us to go to the planetarium on Sunday. It's free for students that day and he really wants to go. What do you think?"
He thinks that it'll be crowded—full of wandering eyes and accidental bumps. He thinks that both eating out or packing a lunch sound like stressful, and therefore bad, ideas. He thinks a planetarium doesn't sound like that much fun anyways. But then he thinks about how he hasn't gone out with friends in more than two weeks. He thinks about Asahi inviting him and Daichi suggesting it, even after everything, and he thinks that if he's going to hang out with anyone at a crowded planetarium, he'd rather it be with his two most trusted friends. He can't stay wrapped up in his blanket forever.
"Sure," Suga says, knowing his friend is watching closely, and has been since last night. They didn't get the chance to talk much after Suga made Daichi promise to keep everything he'd said a secret because Asahi and Noya showed up then. They all piled into the car, Suga told a lie about why he'd been out there, Daichi called everyone else, and then they took the vice-captain home.
"Really?" Daichi asks hopefully. "We don't have to."
We. The word doesn't slip past the gray-haired boy. Relief battles the guilt that he feels at Daichi's inclusion of himself when it comes to their plans for the weekend. Because of what happened, the dark-haired captain doesn't want to let Suga feel lonely. Or perhaps he wants to question Suga further.
Suga doesn't want his friend to dig too deeply into his story because there are parts he left out and parts he doesn't want to say. Like when, how, who, where. It's easier this way. He can avoid angering Nakamura-sensei.
And he's thinking about him again—thinking about the threats whispered in a silky voice. Suga doesn't want to be consumed by thoughts of him. Damn it, he doesn't want to. I'm going on Sunday, he decides determinedly. I'm going on Sunday and I'm not going to think about him.
I'm going to have fun.
I'm going.
"Yeah," Suga replies with a smile. "It sounds like fun."
Daichi smiles back, relief washing over his features. "Let's get back to practice then."
Before he can call out to the others, Suga interrupts him with a light elbow. "Don't forget to apologize to your parents. This trip was planned a long time ago and I'm sure it was hard for them when you canceled last minute."
Suga doesn't know what possesses him to say this, but as soon as it's out of his mouth, he's aware of how it sounds—chiding Daichi for staying behind when it's all really for Suga's sake. The setter begins to prepare an apology in fact, but Daichi's smile widens into an unexpected grin. Suga is taken aback. He was sure he overstepped his bounds.
"Go on and lecture him some more," Tanaka laughs, coming up behind the pair, baring his own rakish grin. "We've missed your motherly ways, Suga-san. There was no one to keep Daichi in line."
"Oh," is all Suga manages while Daichi responds to the second year with a look that sings, I'm imagining drills and laps to punish you with right now.
"Okay." Daichi claps his hands together loudly. "Let's get back to it."
Morning practice flies by after that.
It's strange, having someone know, having one person around whom Suga doesn't have to pretend to be completely fine. He can let his guard down for a second and just breathe. It's not something he ever truly believed a possibility before today. Maybe there's truth in his mother's belief that talking can stem the hurt just as surely as band-aids can stem blood from a cut, because he feels different after his talk with Daichi last night.
Everything is going smoothly and the band-aid holds all morning. Then, at lunchtime, he hears Nakamura's name on the lips of a pair of students sitting close to him.
"Nakamura-sensei has really been piling on the homework lately, hasn't he?"
"It's so brutal. I'm dying."
"Me too! I hear he's in a bad mood since wife left him. They'd barely been together three years."
"So, he's taking it out on us? Damn. We need to find Nakamura a new wife so he'll go back to the old Sensei."
"Or at least a good lay."
"Ha, would you be willing to take one for the team?"
"No way! No way!"
The conversation devolves into giggles and whispers, Suga setting down his chopsticks and leaning back in his chair. He'd rather he heard nothing. He doesn't want to know anything about his teacher's personal life or consider any petty excuses Nakamura could have but never bothered with. He starts to feel sick at the way these students fret over their homework and the way they speak so nonchalantly about sleeping with a teacher.
You don't know anything, he wants to shout at them.
Just as he stands, fists clenched but resolve wavering, Daichi reaches their desks, carrying drinks bought from the vending machine. The captain hands over a bottle of water.
"Hey, Daichi," Suga says. "Let's get out of here."
"Sure."
X
When Daichi opens his eyes that night, he chokes on his initial panic at not being in his own bedroom. Then his brain catches up and he realizes he's in Suga's room. The panic doesn't completely dissipate as he soon notices that Suga's not in bed. Where? Daichi barely turns his head and catches sight of the silver-haired boy sitting on his desk, a hand pressed against the dark windowpane. The captain can't decide whether the atmosphere here tastes melancholy or hopeful. Suga seems so far away, and he's not sure if that's necessarily a bad thing, given the circumstances.
"Suga?" Daichi sits up, wiping the remnants of drool from his chin. It must be cloudy out because there's barely any moonlight. He blinks, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness, the other boy's silhouette the most distinct thing he can make out.
Suga doesn't seem surprised to hear Daichi in the slightest, and his voice is completely even when he says, "It's weird." He turns but the captain still can't see his face clearly.
"What is?" Daichi asks nervously.
"You, knowing. I thought someone finding out would be the worst thing ever. But it's not," Suga replies. Walking over to his bed, he throws himself down and sighs. There's a silence in which Daichi doesn't know how to respond, or even if he should. "It's just weird."
"Do you—?"
"Daichi," Suga says while looking up at the ceiling, hands clasped together on top of the blankets. "Let's have fun this weekend."
What is this resolve? He heard it this morning, and again at afternoon practice, and now. Is happiness something you can really decide to feel? Daichi thinks maybe happiness is something they've all taken for granted until now. He supposes it doesn't always come easy.
X
They spend Saturday inside, watching television and playing card games. They've just finished binge watching the first season of a shitty harem anime when Suga looks away from the TV to analyze the cards in his hands and discard pile between where he and Daichi are sprawled out on their stomachs. He bites his lip and picks up from the draw pile.
"I think I lost a few brain cells from that," Daichi says.
"I think it's only fair that we watch a reverse harem now."
Daichi suddenly laughs and Suga glances up from where he's been rearranging his cards to see Daichi shake out his shoulders and lay all of his cards out in front of him proudly, leaving one to discard. "Rummy!" he announces. "What's that, now? Four to two?"
Pretending to be disappointed, despite being glad for the company, Suga says, "Stop kicking your legs like that, Daichi. You're way too excited over one game."
"Let's have a rematch then," Daichi says confidently. "I'll make it one more win." And he goes and does that eye-crinkling smile that both hurts and warms Suga's heart. He sits up and collects the cards while bobbing his head to a song that must be stuck there, fingers deftly shuffling the deck, cards sliding perfectly into place.
None of the cards go flying, which is what would happen if Suga tried. A part of the vice-captain admires the control that Daichi wields over them while also treating them gently. Daichi's hands that can hit powerful spike and serves. Hands that sting red when slapped hard with double high fives. Hands that slide effortlessly through their owner's dark hair. Hands that withstood my iron grip in that playground tower yet also had touched my face so softly that day in the hallway.
Daichi's hands are kind of beautiful.
"Want me to teach you?" Daichi asks, yanking Suga out of his reverie and pulling his gaze upwards. He'd been staring. A blush rises to the surface of his face.
"Yeah," Suga responds quickly. What are you doing? Why are you thinking about these things right now? Do you have a hand fetish or something, Koushi? "I'm no good at shuffling."
So, the dark-haired captain spends a good ten minutes trying to teach Suga how to shuffle, but Suga just can't manage it. The setter laughs it off, they put on an equally ridiculous reverse harem, and end up playing Spades and then Poker.
"This is so bad," Suga says after the fourth episode.
"I still can't get over the fact that she fell for that twins excuse."
"Well," Suga starts, prepared to argue just for argument's sake, when he decides it's too much effort. "Well, yeah, it was kind of dumb. At least the music's good."
He feels himself growing tired—not physically, but mentally—and all he wants is to hold desperately onto this easygoing feeling. Happy. Comfortable. Light. Content. They're such great feelings. I want to stay here, he thinks resolutely. I want to stay in this moment, with this person, with these feelings.
If every tomorrow is like this, I think maybe I can stop fearing that day.
I think maybe I can find myself again, if every tomorrow is like this.
"Koushi, Daichi," Suga's mom calls, appearing at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm in the mood to bake. Do you want cookies or cake?"
"Can we help?" Suga pipes up, pretending to not notice his mother's surprised look.
I'll do anything to hold onto this feeling.
So, after washing hands and two minutes of Daichi trying to explain that he has no cooking skills whatsoever and would be better suited to just watch, both teens find themselves leaning against the middle counter wearing obnoxiously frilly aprons. They agree to make cookies and cupcakes.
"I'm going to teach you. It's going to be fine." Suga pushes a bowl toward Daichi and his own mixing spoon. "Will you get two eggs from the fridge?"
"I forgot, you're a really good cook, aren't you?" Daichi says.
Since he was fourteen, he's been making his parents breakfast every morning. Remembering the peaceful air of morning, the sun just barely a soft glow of an idea in the sky, coaxes a smile out of Suga. He shrugs, trying not to think about why he hasn't touched a pot or skillet in weeks.
"Everyone in this house cooks," he says.
His mother tsks. "He's so humble. He's really a wonderful cook."
Daichi does everything he's told. Still, he manages to lose an eggshell in his flour, spill the said flour while trying to locate it, and drop his spoon a total of three times, sighing after each incident and shaking his head.
Suga laughs and after the third time the wooden spoon clatters to the floor, asks, "Aren't you supposed to be skilled at receiving?"
"Volleyballs and spoons are completely different."
"Well, you didn't have to spill all over the place," Suga sighs. He pulls aside his apron slightly to show them the flour that has spread down the side of his pants leg. "Look at this."
"Sorry, Suga," Daichi says, biting back his laughter.
The gray-haired setter pulls his apron off. "You sound like Yamaguchi," he says before muttering, "I'm going to change."
Upstairs in his room, he glimpses his reflection in a small mirror sitting atop his dresser. Suga pauses. The mirror is something he's had face down since the day after, his own reflection something he couldn't really bear to be confronted with daily. Daichi must have touched it last night or this morning. The mirror catches his attention, though, not because it is standing upright again, but because it reflects a genuine smile on Suga's face. A smile completely his own and not an act put on for anyone else. When he was alone. When he wasn't thinking about it.
Hmm.
When Suga reenters the kitchen his mother, father, and Daichi have their backs to him, all standing close. What are they doing over by the sink? It dawns on him and Suga strides to the counter and crosses his arms in exasperation.
"Mom! You're not supposed to eating the raw dough!" Suga chides. "Dad! Daichi! I leave you guys for two seconds…"
"I wasn't eating anything, Koushi," his mom says unconvincingly, turning around and wiping her hands on her apron.
"Neither was I," Daichi says after he swallows.
"Nope," his dad adds in.
I'll do anything to hold onto this feeling.
X
"Wow, this really is cool, Asahi," Daichi exclaims.
"Did you agree to come expecting it'd be boring?" Asahi asks, grabbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. His expression instantly morphs into one of excitement as the line they're waiting in moves forward. "Just you wait. This next room is great."
Just as expected, there are a lot of people here, from small children with their parents to students their age. So far, when he's busy looking at whatever exhibit, he's fine. Suga's thoughts don't wander and he's able to enjoy himself. But in transitional times like these, when their group is waiting in line for the next exhibit or being shepherded from one room to another, the lights seem to blaze above him and Suga becomes hyperaware of his body and especially his skin. It's like there's a spotlight shining directly at him and his outer layer is withering underneath the intensity.
He knows it's irrational. He knows there's no danger here. He knows no one's watching him and therefore breathing shouldn't be any more difficult than normal. He knows this.
Yet, any calm feeling can be abruptly and wholly overshadowed by anxiety.
I'll do anything to hold onto that feeling of contentment from before.
Standing in that line under the lights of the hallway, waiting to enter into the next room, Suga realizes that he has to fight tooth and nail to achieve any happiness. He must fight against these thoughts in his head that say things like "give up," "this is all you are," "trying is pointless," "you don't deserve to be happy." It's really hard convincing himself that all of these things are false, but he has no other choice than to give it his best shot.
Suga stops himself from looking around and instead focuses on his friends. He asks, in genuine curiosity, "How many times have you been here?"
"I used to come here all the time with my dad. I don't know why I stopped." Asahi's eyes glaze over with nostalgia as an idle smile plays across his face. "There's always something I learn that I missed the time before."
"So, you know all about constellations and stuff?"
Asahi releases a self-deprecating laugh. "Not really that much in depth. Just the basics, you know?"
"Like what?" Daichi prods.
"Let's see," the ace says, brows scrunching up in thought. "Japan is in the Northern Hemisphere, which makes a difference in what constellations are visible. Also, it being fall affects it too. So, Andromeda, Aquarius, Capricornus, Pegasus, as well as circumpolar ones like Cassieopeia, Perseus, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor are visible. Some others too."
Suga mutters, "Just the basics?" at the same time Daichi asks, "Circumpolar?".
"Ah, yeah," Asahi mumbles. "Circumpolar constellations never rise or set, so they're visible year-round. That's not to say the others can't be seen, it's just…nevermind."
The doors open and finally they're let into a dim, half-circle room with a dome-shaped ceiling. The front of the room sinks in a shallow decline. The chairs are like those of a movie theater, but the rows are curved like the room and arranged in rings facing the walls. People start filling up the bottom rows as they file in from the top. Suga follows close behind Daichi, letting his gaze wander up to the ceiling, unable to judge just how high it is.
"Is this going to be a movie?" Daichi asks, falling into the seat beside Asahi, leaving the aisle seat for Suga.
"Kind of," Asahi says. "You'll see."
There are only two small doors, on either side of the top row. One is the door everyone came through and the other is perhaps one used by workers. As the seats begin filling, the level of chatter in the room rises, though it's all unintelligible to Suga. He starts rubbing his fists against his thighs, brown eyes searching for nothing really, ears full of muted whispering. More waiting. If it would just start already.
Suga feels a hand on his. He freezes initially and so does Daichi, but then he breathes and opens up his fist for Daichi to hold. Daichi's warm fingers wrap around Suga's lightly. When the captain glances over, his expression asks, Are you okay?
Suga nods.
A friend holding another friend's hand to quell the anxiety brewing in his chest. Or, a hopeful someone trying to comfort the boy he loves. Suga can feel the weight of Daichi's hope in his hand. He's known about his friend's romantic feelings for almost a year now, but the dark-haired boy never spoke them aloud, so Suga pretended not to notice. He secretly dreaded the day when Daichi would build up the courage to confess because the gray-haired setter had no idea what he felt in return. He used to think a lot about how he'd respond if confessed to. He once again contemplates the scenario.
After everything that's happened, the idea of 'him and Daichi' has become even more confusing to consider. And maybe it's selfish of him—holding Daichi's hand now, spending so much time together this weekend, letting the captain hold him while he cried in that playground, all the while knowing how Daichi feels. Maybe he shouldn't be doing this. Because—
He doesn't know, he doesn't know, he doesn't know how he feels. All he knows is Daichi deserves someone…better.
It's true, having Daichi close calms his breathing. It helps him focus on the real world instead of bad memories. And Daichi does this all without realizing—this steadfast, brown-eyed wing spiker whom Suga's known since First Year, yet sometimes it feels more like forever.
But Daichi deserves someone untainted.
I'm thinking stupid things again. Stop. Besides—
The room plunges into pitch blackness, evoking a couple of quickly hushed cries from children. There are a few moments of breathless silence. And then stars spill out all around them. On the walls, on the ceiling, some slightly different colors and slightly different intensities, the tiny lights dazzling against the previous darkness.
It's like someone scoured the night sky for these elusive diamonds and locked them up in this dome-shaped room. It's so realistic, and so beautiful. Suga's eyes are as round as dinner plates. He leans forward to catch a glimpse of Daichi's and Asahi's reactions just as the narrator begins to speak, detailing the early stages of Earth's life.
The visuals zoom in and out and twist around as the narration continues, making it feel like they're flying through the sky. This, at once, evokes a feeling of incredible minuteness underneath the vast blanket of thousands of stars, yet also one of immense power. Suga's grip tightens and loosens with each new constellation that is featured, many of them those that Asahi had mentioned. He feels like a little kid, sitting at the edge of his seat.
It's so beautiful. Suga's struck with the desire to gaze up at the real stars.
X
"Thanks for inviting us, Asahi," Daichi says as they follow the throng through the halls of the planetarium. "That was really cool."
Suga feels lighter heading out than he did walking in. He doesn't really know why it's easier to walk and breathe and think. "I had fun. Thanks, Asahi, Daichi."
"Suga," Asahi says quietly, and then both he and Daichi are staring at the setter with a mixture of surprise and relief. Suga feels himself begin to blush under their gaze, so he raises his hands to wave them off, not knowing what to say. Jeez.
One of the walls in the entrance hall catches his eye. The entire thing, floor to ceiling, is a mural painted with the same stars they've just witnessed in the movie room. It's massive and spectacular and Suga doesn't know how he failed to notice it on his way in this morning. Weaving through the crowd, he makes a beeline for it.
"Guys," he calls over his shoulder as his friends hurry to follow. "Let's take a picture. You have a good camera on your phone, right, Daichi?"
They ask a passerby to take a photo of them. Other people are also taking pictures in front of the mural, so Suga doesn't feel out of place, even if they're mostly girls. After the stranger passes Daichi's phone back, they all huddle around the screen to see the result. Daichi's grinning with his arms thrown over Asahi's and Suga's shoulders. Asahi's build and facial hair make him look intimidating, the camera apparently unable to capture how wrong that assumption is. Suga's making a peace sign, eyes brighter than he remembers seeing them lately. His looks at himself a second longer.
"I look terrible." His face is so thin and his hair's a mess.
"You look fine."
Asahi takes on a serious tone. "Guys, this is our last year. We only have a few more months to—"
"Stop right there," Daichi interjects. "Don't get all nostalgic. It's not over yet!"
"I know. I know—I mean, Suga started it with the picture."
"Suga didn't start talking about how it's our last year and everything's coming to an end and how we only have a few months to spend together."
"I didn't even get to that part yet," Asahi says, completely on the defense.
The setter glances away from their argument and notices familiar brown hair in the midst of the crowd unable to immediately recall who it is until they turn to their slightly shorter, dark-haired companion and the boy's profile comes into view. The Seijoh captain's expression is animated as he speaks to his friend, leaning in close enough to make Suga's curious gaze linger.
A dark blush spreads across the spiker's face as he scowls, and it's then that Suga sees their interlaced fingers. Are they dating then? Somehow it doesn't seem that farfetched to the vice-captain. But holding hands doesn't necessarily mean anything. He and Daichi had just been holding hands for just shy of forty-five minutes and they're not dating. But Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always seemed so close.
Oikawa rolls his eyes, the muddy brown orbs landing on Suga, recognition lighting them. His expression completely reconstructs itself into something more guarded despite the wide smile stretching across his face. Suga lifts a hand in a half-hearted wave, noticing how swiftly Oikawa drops Iwaizumi's.
Then Seijoh's captain is cutting his way through the mass of people, Iwaizumi a step behind.
"Karasuno's Third Years," Oikawa says brightly. "It's been a while."
"Ah, hi," Daichi says while Suga and Asahi nod pleasantly. "It's unexpected, running into you here."
"Well, Iwa-chan, here, doesn't believe in aliens," Oikawa says, voice scandalized as if saying Iwaizumi doesn't believe in something as simple as air. Suga can't tell how serious he's being. "So, I thought I'd bring him here to prove my point."
"Oh," Suga says when no one else responds.
The Seijoh ace hits Oikawa in the back of the head. "They don't want to hear about your alien theories. Nobody does."
"Ow. Well then, what about volleyball?" the brown-haired setter asks, expression sliding into something overconfident and smug. "I've been working on my jump serve. Once it's polished, I don't think even you can receive it, Captain."
Cocky as always. Oikawa is extremely skilled though, so if he says he's been improving his serve even further, then it can only be considered bad news for Karasuno. We can barely receive it as is. But Daichi is also highly skilled.
"Oikawa, don't be an ass," Iwaizumi scolds.
"I'll guess we'll have to see," Daichi replies immediately, squaring his shoulders. "I look forward to it."
Iwaizumi groans as Oikawa opens his mouth, rendering the setter's response unintelligible. The spiker says, "We're going to be late for the thing, Oikawa. We should get going." He shoots an apologetic look toward the Karasuno players.
"It was nice speaking with you. Tell Tobio-chan that I—"
"We're going, Shittykawa," Iwaizumi growls, forcibly turning Oikawa in the opposite direction, and calling over his shoulder, "It was nice seeing you."
They all seem to hold their breath until they see the pair from Aoba Johsai exit through the building's front doors. Then they head in the same direction.
"That was certainly interesting," Asahi says.
Suga nods and Daichi grunts in agreement.
"Do you guys want to come over to watch 'King of Basketball'?" Suga asks. "We can toss around a volleyball until it's time."
X
That night, Suga sits at his window again, staring out at the stars.
Circumpolar constellations never rise or set; therefore, they're visible year-round. They're always there in the night sky when you look up, shining despite time, despite distance, and despite the plight of some random person on Earth. Some stars are even dead, yet their light still reaches out, unaware or uncaring that they've been snuffed out.
Suga finds that incredibly admirable.