A/N: Here we are with another drabble! As you read on, you will see that all of these drabbles will eventually start forming a story of their own. I hope you like it!
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If there was anything Takeru Sasazuka hated more than the bunk bed his roommate bought, it was the fact that Shiraishi laid claim to the top bunk. Every night, Shiraishi would lean down over his bunk to stick his head in Sasazuka's bunk, only to ask pointless questions or to start a conversation that would be otherwise obsolete other than be used to stay awake. It was to the point that Sasazuka was honestly considering investing in ear plugs.
On the first night of it, Shiraishi had laid atop his bunk and simply asked, "Takeru, wouldn't a lethal dose of a drug just be considered a lifetime supply?" Another night, he had poked his head down into Sasazuka's bunk, hair flowing down below him and nearly touching the floor, to ask, "People claim that glasses make you look smarter, but don't you have to fail a test to even acquire them?"
Sasazuka didn't even want to think about the idea of entertaining such absurd questions, especially at two o'clock in the morning! He would always roll over so his back was facing Shiraishi, pretending to be asleep. Sometimes he wondered if his roommate actually bought it or not. Then again, he didn't care enough to know the answer to that. It would only be playing into Shiraishi's hands. And so began the late nights of suffering for Takeru Sasazuka.
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One night, after a long day at the office, Shiraishi struck Sasazuka with a question much earlier than he usually did. It was directly after they had gone to their separate bunks, making it impossible for Sasazuka to fake sleep.
Shiraishi, hung his head down into Sasazuka's bunk, eyes wide with curiosity, leaving Sasazuka no choice but to acknowledge the other man's presence. "Takeru, I have a question." He ignored the dramatic eye roll his roommate replied with and pressed on with what he had planned to say. "Do you think the action of clapping would technically just be you hitting yourself over and over in response to something you like?"
Sasazuka froze. Never in his life had he heard something like that. Who in the world would think up something so utterly ludicrous? What in the actual hell did that man's brain think of throughout the day? Who would actual think up something like that? He couldn't even begin to comprehend what Shiraishi was saying. Why that night, of all nights, did he have to ask something so ridiculous?
"Where did you even think of something like that?" he slowly asked. "What the actual fuck possessed you into thinking about what the action of clapping would technically be considered?"
A small smile played on the other man's lips. "Who knows," he carelessly stated. "But would you think that is the technical truth? I mean, you are repeatedly hitting a part of your body to show your appreciation, but for what? Who ever thought of something like that? What does clapping originally even mean? Who originally thought up the idea to clap to show our appreciation? Who was the first person to ever clap and explain that it meant the enjoyed something?"
"Don't do this to me," Sasazuka muttered, unsure of whether he was talking to his own brain or his absurd roommate. "What the fuck?"
"Well, let me know your answer whenever you come to a conclusion on it." With that, Shiraishi disappeared back into his bunk.
Sasazuka, however, suddenly felt as if he were a man possessed. He had been slightly sleepy before, but now that he was actually thinking about it, he was wide awake, energized, and craving answers. How had he fallen so quickly for Shiraishi's bait? As he began researching everything he wanted to know about clapping, he cursed his roommate in his head.
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After nearly two hours of research, Sasazuka had exhausted himself and found his answers he was looking for. It was well past midnight, but at least he knew what he wanted to know. He raised his leg and kicked the bunk above him, yet there was no response. Knowing Shiraishi was up there, he kicked again.
When he failed to receive a response a second time, Sasazuka stood on the edge of his bunk and peeked up into his roommate's bunk. Shiraishi was fast asleep, snoring softly. How the fuck had this happened? That damned bastard never went to bed so early! What was this fuckery?
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" the mint-haired man raged. "What the fuck, Shiraishi?! Why would you ask me something like that and then fucking fall asleep?! You're unbelievable!" After venting a bit more of his pent-up rage upon the sleeping Shiraishi, he laid back down in his own bunk and sulked.
While he hated the bunk beds and the fact that Shiraishi had claimed the top bunk, he now hated something even more. He hated the fact that he knew everything there was to know about clapping, but not as much as the fact that he learned all of that information for Shiraishi.