"(Sixth. He loves you, too. )"


It's dark and quiet, as it usually is around this time of night. Kazuya isn't quite sure if he is fond of the solitude he finds then or if he misses the daytime and what it brings. There was a time when he didn't think about that at all but it's different now.

The sun shines bright in Kazuya's mind, warming him from the inside out. When did the moon and stars keeping him far off company at night become replaced by the sun, he wonders, his fingers gliding across the display of the vending machine. They halt for a moment as he feels something out of the ordinary, something intangible yet intense, something as invisible as much as it is familiar, even if it is a lot less attention-seeking than what Kazuya is used to. He almost smiles as he calls out to the dark which feels more comforting and less lonely than it has in a while.

"Oi, Sawamura, what do you think? Black coffee or chocolate milk?" Kazuya turns his head, less surprised than he should be to find Sawamura standing behind him, half obscured in the plentiful shadows. Even so, the weak lamplight spilling through the cracks between concrete buildings is bright enough to illuminate Sawamura's face.

Late nights seem to have a way of pulling what is hidden to the surface; Kazuya pretends not to notice the battle of emotions flickering across Sawamura's usually so open expression. The small jump he does, however, coaxes an amused smirk out of him. It wavers a little when Sawamura begins to come closer; if he resembled a skittish animal before, every trace of that insecurity seems to disappear with every step he takes until he finally stands right beside Kazuya.

He turns his attention back to the display, fingers poised. Sawamura is too close, too warm, too present, to ignore the answering heat he can feel creeping up his neck.

"I don't know how you can drink that stuff. It's disgusting."

Kazuya laughs, maybe sounding a little strained, as he finally presses a number combination and slides clinking change into the coin slot. It's an expected answer.

"How come you're out so late?" he asks, thankful that his question is followed by the tumbling of drinks down the vending machine and not a silence he isn't sure he can take. He's suddenly thankful for the lack of proper lighting. Bending down, he picks up the two cans and offers one to Sawamura. Sawamura doesn't react right away, face surprisingly closed off. It makes Kazuya nervous.

"Don't worry, that's the chocolate milk." he adds to attempt and hide this unreasonable nervousness. A few more moments pass; Sawamura's eyes are as bright as ever, if not as open, but still magnetic and making it impossible for Kazuya to look away. It's almost completely silent, except for the sound of soft breathing, a strange occurrence in itself where Sawamura is concerned. Even Kazuya's heart stills despite how close they are, but it's warm and, as cliché as it sounds, he can't deny that this, here right now, feels safe.

Because of Sawamura.

"I could ask you the same thing." he finally replies, breaking the silence but evading the question. Kazuya blinks, having forgotten what exactly that was. He says nothing in return, opting to open his can of coffee even as he remembers.

What else is there to say, what else except what he doesn't want this late night to reveal?

"You can't sleep because of nightmares?" Kazuya asks, unwilling to give an honest answer. Sleepless nights are something he has become an expert in, after all. He isn't looking at Sawamura but even so he can still feel that impossible to ignore stare directed at him. His question provokes no reaction and Kazuya can feel himself growing a little annoyed even as his mouth decides to let more words tumble out. "Are you worried about our next match? That's not like you. You're the one who never gives up, aren't you? Don't you want to be the ace?"

Kazuya finally looks up at that, expecting an inappropriately loud response given the time but instead finds Sawamura's somewhat glazed over gaze still directed at him.

Despite the toned down intensity, Kazuya has to swallow heavily. His throat feels tight and his heart is picking up in speed until it's not so quiet anymore. Heat pools in his stomach.

"Oi, Sawamura, if you're so tired you're zoning out you should just go to sleep –" Kazuya manages to say, even slipping in a tone of reprimand. For just a moment, he feels relief when it's evident by Sawamura's clear eyes that he's listening to him but then he speaks as if he hasn't heard a word Kazuya has said.

"I like you."

This time, Kazuya's heart stops in the same instant his lungs feel like all the air has been sucked out of them. His mouth is still open, words dying on his tongue and drying up just like his thoughts and nervousness. He's completely blank, the sudden silence mirroring his inner state.

"What?"

Just that single, croaked word is enough to shake Sawamura out of that strange trance-like state he seems to be caught in and he steps back. Kazuya immediately misses the heat, his body still somehow seeming to be able to realise this even as his mind is still catching up. Sawamura finally breaks eye contact, shaking his head a little.

"I – sorry – that shouldn't have –" he stutters, stumbling backward even more, his unopened can falling from his loose grip. Kazuya can't move even though he's beginning to get the sense that he should follow, a strange kind of urgency taking hold of him to keep Sawamura there. His chest flutters and feels light, but also hovering anxiously.

This silence isn't as pleasant or as natural as it used to be; it feels like pulled taut string, tense and as if waiting to be pulled or snapped, waiting to sing out a clear tune or an ugly sound of ripping apart something precious and fragile. It feels like walking on a tightrope.

And Kazuya still doesn't know what to do or say, only an increasing sense of alarm and impending loss if he doesn't act now.

"Sawamura." he finally makes his voice work, grating because his brain picked tonight of all nights to go on a holiday. He isn't particularly loud, he doesn't need to be when it's just them and off the field, but he finds this isn't what he needs to be like, not quiet or controlled but as honest as Sawamura was and always, always is. It's still enough to stop Sawamura in his tracks, enough to get him to look up and enough for Kazuya to see what it is that feels so fragile between them. He swallows yet again, but his throat is still too dry and his tongue too clumsy. "I-"

Another silence follows, one which grows heavier with each passing moment until Sawamura deflates, visible even in the dark, and turns his back on Kazuya. Just like that, his sun disappears and it may as well be dark without a moon or stars to lend their cold, sparse light.

How does one become honest after hiding for so long? Kazuya doesn't know but panic grows inside him and makes his chest go tight. He doesn't know but he has to.

Late nights exist for pulling out into the light what should be hidden.

"Wait."

Impossibly, Kazuya's voice doesn't waver but it feels stripped bare, vulnerable, because of what he is about to say or do, despite, or maybe precisely because, he doesn't know. It's enough to get Sawamura to stop and catches Kazuya off guard because of how much looser the vice around his chest gets. Neither moves, Sawamura staying half turned away from him, halfway toward him, clearly showing his indecisiveness. He needs a push in the right direction.

But is that Kazuya?

He can't speak, again, so after another moment or two, he bends down to scoop up Sawamura's chocolate milk from the ground.

"Here." Kazuya stretches out his hand, bridging half the distance between them with the can held like a peace offering. Another swallow, a crooked but real smile, small and tentative. "You dropped this."

And just like before, Sawamura takes a bit to reach out and take it. Their knuckles brush and he makes as if to recoil but suddenly Kazuya feels brave, and maybe it's the late night honesty, or just plain exhaustion, but he takes hold.

It feels a little rough and calloused but warm and dry. It feels safe and is strangely calming, no tightrope to balance, no vice to crush him. Kazuya's heart still beats fast but it's light. It's just handholding but maybe that's enough for now, for this night. This is as honest as he can be, he thinks, even as he bends in close enough to feel Sawamura's halting breath on his face. His own breathing speeds up in response.

He's been honest but can he be a little braver too?

Kazuya's smile widens as his lips press a whisper to Sawamura's ear before he leaves.

"Drink this before you sleep."

And if there's a hidden meaning behind his words – well. No one has ever said that honesty needs to be clear and simple.

It's enough to know that this is the kind of silence Kazuya leaves behind, along with promises of the future.