i luv sunarin

oh , how you would go back to the days you had your grandfather. what a privilege for others to still have theirs and you , stuck with the empty space he left you with. what were you going to do with the emptiness , what could you use to fill it with ? how you wish he communicated with you better.

time cannot be reversed , it doesn't work that way just because you wanted it to.

there are things you can never have. yet you still wished for the impossible , sometimes.

before your grandfather passed away when you were 12 , he always asked why you never replied to his messages. he lived in the same house as you did , you were confused at that and about the messages. you had never received on your small phone that your father gifted you , it was only for emergencies. you never knew what he was talking about until he passed away and your father took a look on his phone just to see that he actually did messaged you , just on your old number. you never received those messages.

he had messaged you pictures of your cats sitting on his lap or at the side of his leg , his breakfast , lunch and dinner along with random pictures of your cats' behaviour. it had been years ever since he passed away , and you thought about that one messaged where he asked why you were not answering. perhaps you were hallucinating about it when you were first grieving.

it was hard to process what loss was as a twelve-year-old. six years before his passing , you lost your grandmother. you were six years old when you had a tantrum because you just realised she passed.

even as an adult now , you still couldn't digest grief properly. it was still hard losing some loved ones and you knew if they were still here , life would be really good. it'd be selfish to ask for that but you couldn't help it.

you were starting to forget their faces and voices , which pained you and costed your happiness – slightly. you tried picturing their faces many times without looking at your phone , you couldn't find any traces of them in your head. those unreplied messages resided in your head , owning the corner of your mind. this could be an exaggeration but you could die from this grief.

it's like your mind had deleted them to fit more memories to come. you could see their empty spot being occupied by cats or critters. it's like life knew that was their spot. life was miserable.

however , you didn't need to be.

you visit your grandparents more often than not. you would leave flowers you think they'd like and sometimes , stories. you would talk about your day and what your family was up to , most of the time.

usually , you visit at a specific time. when the sun was about to set , just to soothe your mind knowing that they're witnessing this , too. perhaps , sitting and watching the sunset was the closest thing you'd have to seeing them.

however , there this one specific day you bumped into a man.

it was kita shinsuke ; your classmate for three years in high school , captain for the volleyball team , disciplined and attentive. he was allegedly feared by his own teammates , as he was somehow strict. yet , as you bumped into him — all you saw was the softness of his face.

"oh! i apologise for bumping into you," you bowed down as you apologised. the man looming over you was enchanting. it felt like flowers bloom when he was present.

"don't worry , it was me who was not paying attention. i should apologise for that," he bowed down while his eyes shut closed. you shook your head , denying.

"i didn't pay attention! it would be who should apologise."

"i insist."

at length , after much consideration , you nodded.

the both of you awkwardly stood in front of each other while looking around as if you're trying to find something. you were just acquaintances , nothing too serious or too loose. the path that you were standing in lack cement and more of gravel , made noises below you as you shuffled your feet.

he noticed this and decided to speak up first : "i should go. i have errands to run," his voice slow and soft , his legs already moving to leave the spot.

you nodded while giving him a small wave , bidding him goodbye.

"have a great day," said you , eyes casted downwards.

he mumbled out a reply but it was distant. you never see him again until a few weeks.

a flower appeared on a garden somewhere.

~

you had never solicit anyone when it comes to grief or moving on , believing in soliloquies are much better. it is only you who could listen to yourself better. often times , you didn't need any solutions. you just need a listener.

yet , most people never understood that.

it was hard to scour the grief that has built up over the years and impose yourself to throw it away. a certain smell sometimes would trigger the nostalgia and some certain food tasted just like how they cooked.

that's why , you came back to the cemetery one evening. you decided to not stay until sunset but instead brought some flower seeds. it's like your love growing for them each day just like the flowers. the flower seeds are a metaphor to you.

you crouched down in front of your grandmother's grave first , pulling out the flower seeds from your tote bag. the seeds were native wildflowers , you thought about giving back to nature as bees would hang around at the flowers. you hoped that all life will feel the love you're pouring out through the flowers.

a sudden noise made you stopped what you were doing.

"what are you doing there?" a voice so familiar spoke up behind you. or to be specific , above you.

"trying to plant flowers..?" you shrugged , too lazy to turn around. bare hands touching the soil as you digged into it to place the flower seeds before kita crouched down as well to stop you.

"at least wear gloves," he said before turning to look at you to stare into your eyes. weirdo.

"i don't have any and i can just wash my hands," you rolled your eyes and continued , pushing his hands away to do so.

"if you don't worms are going to crawl in between your nails."

"WHAT—"

you jumped up and accidentally hit kita on his chin.

"that was NOT real , right? you're messing around," you pointed accusedly at him.

one brow raised at this , shaking his head. "what if i'm right?"

"that's a myth for children, to scare them off."

"no , it's not."

"yes , it is."

"can we stop playing this fighting game? it's childish."

"YOU are childish !"

glaring at each other before you decided that you lost. it was definitely a myth but you're going to find gloves now or he will never let this go.

"fine , help me find some gloves."

"no need , i have extra here in my bag."

"why the FRICK you didn't say earlier?"

it was his turn to shrug , "i didn't feel like saying it."

"seriously?" you grimaced at him before dragging your feet towards the grave once more. arm stretched towards him as you said , "can you give me the extra gloves?"

he smiled and that smile didn't reach his eyes yet it was soft. the small smile felt like it was the sun , it brighten your view to the point it was slowly killing you.

'who do you think you are smiling at me like that?'

you thought to yourself.

"sure , isn't it easy to just listen and obey?"

"obey? you think i am some sort of slave?"

"i didn't say that , you did."

"you are one odd man," you said as you shook your head in disbelief. glancing at him once again before working on your flower seeds. what a day.

another flower appeared on a garden , somewhere.

-

helping your parents run a restaurant wasn't easy as you thought it would be. you still remember confidently saying you'd be able to help them and not break a sweat. now , you're sweating buckets.

never underestimate opening a restaurant or shop.

they exquisite ramen that local people loved and always came back for it. you've seen a regular customer eating at this restaurant for breakfast , lunch and dinner! you were thinking they have an addiction to this place.

you have also seen the same customer brings in multiple different girls each visit. all your parents and their staff could do was shake their heads at this man each time he smiled sheepishly. if the girls are constantly different , then he ought to stop because he might be the problem here.

numerous people have entered your family's restaurant and had you never seen kita shinsuke here. somehow , one a random tuesday , there he was.

standing confused at the front door , looking at the menu that was printed on the door. you could see his silhouette move before the door opened and there was the man who intrigued you so much until you couldn't sleep at night.

sighing before shouting , "welcome !"

his head raised quite immediately after hearing your voice , probably shocked to see you behind the counter. he strode from the entrance to where you were standing before taking a seat on one of the empty stools.

his hands clasped each other as he ordered a tofu hamburger and iced tea.

"tofu hamburger , huh?" you said , before turning around to make his order. he stared at you for a while , noticing that you looked calm here. your shoulders relaxed and wasn't strained by stress , your posture looked soft instead of cranky.

a small smile appeared on his face as he noticed this , acknowledging that this place was your safe haven.

"yes , it's my favourite."

you focused on making iced tea first , scooping up ice from the freezer and taking out a coaster from the drawers using your free hand. the coaster was handmade by your siblings , they get crafty sometimes. your parents decided to put them and some people actually asked whether it was on sale.

your parents , of course — had to say yes. technically , they put your siblings for child labour after. well , nobody needs to know about that.

you gave the iced tea to him when it's done after a few minutes and his fingers brushed yours. cliche , but it made your heart skipped a beat. hell , you could hear yourself mute the world and the only sound you could hear was from him sipping mindlessly on the drink.

a short answer from him earlier , you realised. it seems that he wasn't talking much , perhaps because there were customers around or he didn't have much words to use. it's not like those customers loved to eavesdrop , although the older folks do , mostly the younger ones don't. they're too busy focusing on their own businesses.

which was why you assumed he was probably trying to find things about you so that he could poke and tease you. that wasn't the case , though.

"you look calm , here. i'm happy about that ," he said with soft half lidded eyes. he was still sipping on the drink , the cup halfway empty. yet , he looked genuine when he said that so your assumptions went away like the wind.

you still remember what your grandfather said : "i will never be able to find anyone like your grandmother."

oh , to be loved like that. you thought good men had evaporated , carried away by the wind and lived elsewhere. somewhere you couldn't and would never reach.

yet , after seeing the soft look on kita shinsuke's face — you thought otherwise.

hence , you were glad his tofu hamburger needed attention so you turned around to tend to it. there was no way he should see your flustered face , it was burning up like you had a fever.

"thanks," you mumbled. you could feel him smiling like an idiot.

as the tofu hamburger was cooked , you prepared for it with slight shaky hands. you were quite intimidated by the magic he had on you. who was he ? meddling with your business in life all of a sudden when the both of you were never close back in high school.

hell , you never really glanced at each other. all you did was focus in class and sometimes talk to your friends. relationships or boys weren't in your head much back then. sure , you had your crushes here and there but none of them mattered much.

you practically gave up when each time you liked someone , their darkest evil secrets were revealed and that pulled you away. you dodged a bullet each time it happened.

it was odd that after years of high school , he appeared right back in your life and acted as if he was a close acquaintance. to you , he was just some classmate.

but to him , you were a flower in a profusion of weeds.

he had noticed your kindness and he was in a trance each time you laughed. at first , he thought of it as a small crush or a slight admiration he held for you.

slowly , it turned into something bigger.

second year of high school was the year he didn't dare to call the feeling , love. he realised he grew soft-spined and it felt like his life somersaulted into a ditch. also , he realised this when he started soliloquy in his room.

he thought he was going crazy.

when he reached third year , he gave up on confessing and decided to just love you from afar. to some , this might be a waste. but to him , nothing was a waste if you're the one pouring love.

his grandmother had said , "you would always have more love even if you have poured out too much," and that was what kept him with this hunger of loving you.

a few weeks before bumping into you , he actually had seen you visiting the cemetery more frequently. shrugging off immediately after seeing you , not wanting to hope that you'd visit more. he felt guilty for using his grandmother to see you more but she was the one who told him to always pursue what he liked.

although , his grandmother had always been the one giving advices and he'd been following them. so far , nobody else had given him too much advices like she does.

on the day he bumped into you , it was on purpose. he didn't know how to greet you properly like a normal person. although it was on purpose , he actually stumbled over a rock that was half buried.

he prayed so that he didn't accidentally hurt you to the point he actually started a monologue in his head while you were staring at each other awkwardly. also , he thought he was gazing at you lovingly but he thought again that night that maybe he looked like a deer in headlights or maybe a creepy goat.

he had never wanted to delete his existence so bad.

it was a coincedence that after a few weeks of bumping into you , he had gloves in his bag because he had just finished shopping for gardening tools. he had enjoyed instagram and tiktok too much to the point he saw a familiar guy making videos of tips on how to garden. turned out it was actually former volleyball captain of shiratorizawa.

immediately , he messaged the man personally to get to know more about gardening. they actually had went out a couple of times to talk about vegetables and food at osamu's onigiri shop.

enthusiasm was what he felt when he saw you holding a pack of native wildflower seeds. he was glad the person he admired so much actually cares about nature. he knew he liked you for a reason ! (and many)

he never figured out as to why he liked you so much. whether it was because that one time you paired together for a project and you were one of the benevolent people he had ever met. maybe that one time you selfishly gave your money to help him out at lunch or maybe when you wished good luck each time you had tests.

he was zoning out before you snapped your fingers. he immediately blinked his eyes and looked up at you. you raised your brow at him , pointing at the food.

"does my tofu hamburger looked ugly? that's why you're not eating?"

"no , no. i was just thinking about something," he grinned at you whereas you squinted your eyes.

"thinking about what?"

"you."

another flower appeared on a garden , once again.

-

that night , you rolled yourself in bed and slammed your pillow into your face roughly. you screamed while your body rocked back and forth.

"WHAT was that?"

you couldn't sleep and it's already 12 a.m. tomorrow evening , there was a festival and you had to help your parents open up a stall there. you hoped to not see him there but you knew he'd always be wherever you are.

maybe with his stupid former volleyball teammates. they're not stupid but since they're all associated with him , you thought they were. the most infuriating part of this all was he just ate his tofu hamburger as if nothing happened! you thought the man was wicked for doing that to you because how dare he?

the moment he indulged in his food , you took off your apron and left the counter. the next staff was coming in for his shift anyways. you didn't look back into the restaurant once you exited.

but you could feel his eyes glancing at your form.

you knew it was him because there was no one else who could give you that goosebumps despite the day being warm and sunny. he was the sun and the ice at the same time. cold , most of the time and bright for certain occasions.

'what am i going to do tomorrow once i see him?'

the evening came by fast and the next thing you knew was preparing ramen at your family's stall. your dad was making beverages and you hated that he was focusing on iced tea because that was what kita had yesterday.

"honey , what's on your mind?" your mother asked , hands still busy with chopping vegetables. yet , her eyes stared right into your soul , demanding an answer.

"mm , nothin'. it's just been tiring," you sighed as you stacked bowls. suddenly , your dad interrupted.

"tiring? the festival was just about to start and all you did was carry vegetables!"

you glared at him before pouting. "well , i am not tired physically. just emotionally."

"why so?"

"it's nothing too important , later on i'll talk about it—"

"excuse me , is the stall ready?" a voice oh so familiar appeared. you could see his shadow glooming over your vegetables , it appeared there was more than one person was standing. oh , you were right.

looking up , there they stood. kita shinsuke and his former teammates. there was the miya twins , aran — whom you knew so well due to his politeness and patience , suna — the guy who always had videos of the twins fighting and you assumed he made money from them.

somehow , there was only four of his friends in front of you. usually , you would see him with ginjima on his instagram story. perhaps he was busy and couldn't make it to the festival.

anyways , it wasn't your business to care. you didn't care who he was with or associated with. at the moment , all you wanted was to run away and hide. maybe change your identity and move to another country. japan have the organisation to do that , to let people evaporate. you thought about it sometimes and especially after yesterday.

"oh , yes! we are ready. what do young men like you would like to have?" your dad was really friendly when it comes to his customers. maybe that's why they were hooked onto your restaurant.

your mother smiled softly before patting your back , "just enjoy today's festival , okay? we have staff coming over soon , you can go and have fun. okay?"

you hoped you could have fun with these feelings scattered all over the place. still , you smiled at your mother before turning back to your vegetables. trying to ignore the man in front of you who had a strong energy immersing from him.

naturally , you'd go explore the festival but knowing he's here — you don't really want to. your stomach started to grumble as if you needed food when you literally devoured 2 bowls of ramen in depression.

however , it's actually the anxiety built up overnight had just started to react. luckily , people had started to crowd the festival so nobody could hear your body crying out loud.

they were waiting and got distracted by watching your dad making their orders. you didn't know this but your dad had a hunch you were troubled with one of these boys because you were too quiet to his liking. he knows his daughter.

on the other hand , kita watched your fingers gripped the chopped vegetables a bit too roughly. he loomed closer towards you , leaning closer to watch. you could feel his sudden presence , pouting slightly and lifted your head up to make him see it.

he noticed it and smiled. it was evening and it felt like the sun had shone through his skin making it translucent. you stopped chopping the poor , abused vegetables to finally gaze into his eyes.

"what do you want?" you said , tone lowered so that his friends couldn't eavesdrop. it would be dangerous if they heard you. they're just a few meters away from you , you couldn't take any chances. you're glad your father was keeping them busy.

"why did you run away?" he stared at you with a resting face. he had a mean resting face.

"when?" you said as you pretended to not know what he's talking about.

he hummed at you before standing up straight and properly. "so you want to keep on running away?"

"i didn't ran away. i'm not even running away—"

"then why are you being awkward? we were fine yesterday , no?"

"we've always been like this , right? we're not even friends. i didn't even know you that well back in high school ," the statement from you made his eyes casted downwards before nodding.

"i respect that you do not want to be friends," he pursed his lips into a tight line. he realised he never put any labels to whatever you were having. this whole time he thought you guys were friends or maybe more than friends but not more than lovers.

your eyes blinked furiously at his response , clearly not expecting that answer from him. he was respectful to everyone but after a few times of 'hanging out' you thought he would argue back.

the both of you broke your gaze on each other when your father bid goodbyes to his friends while handing them their orders. he took one last glance at you before turning away and following them , blending in the crowd.

from the loud noise of the speakers and people , you could feel your heart cracked. it shouldn't bother you , right? this was what you wanted.

a flower did not appear on a garden that day.

that night , it was kita's turn to struggle to sleep. usually , he never had any problems with his schedule regardless of any occasions. somehow , tonight was the night he struggled to sleep. kita shinsuke was finally slipping from his disciplinary.

not really , he knew he'd be able to come back after whatever dance he was dancing with you. it seems that he was the only one absentmindedly dancing on the dance floor like a madman. maybe he was one.

laying down in bed and looking up to the ceiling , made him feel numb. feeling helpless with what he's going through and he didn't have his grandmother by his side. it was terrible to not have the person you cherished the most be there with you. or be there for you.

after years of admiring you , it may have come to an end. he'd never stop respecting you and your wishes but he wished he was one of your wishes. he wished his face was the one you hoped to see in the future. he wished it was him that you think about every night but he felt like he was selfish for asking this.

suddenly , he remembered this one song from faye webster and its lyric , "i'm here regardless of the pain. don't ever tell me to go away , from you."

he never listened to that song again after , thought it wasn't that relatable much. but , he thought again about that song and the lyric that got stuck in the back of his head. scrunching his face in pain as his head was in it too much , he decided to roll over and sleep.

perhaps , that's better than trying make up a conclusion.

-

a few days had passed , you visited the cemetery again. it felt like there was no other right places you should be other than here. walking pass the garden beside the cemetery , you ignored the way the flowers sway following the wind.

you wish you could follow the wind , sometimes. maybe the wind would know where to bring you instead of where you were — a dead end. why did kita left you just like that ? did you say something wrong ?

it was true after all. you never had labels for each other , seeing him occasionally didn't mean you were friends. you were just acquaintances just like back in high school. but it felt like there was some strings pulling you towards him instead of away from him.

had you known that he wanted more , you would've not been here. these past few weeks felt like how it was when you were classmates. near yet not too close you could feel each other's scent. there was distance between the both of you yet you were never really far away.

kita was never a part of your life , so why was he now ?

your feet stopped at the gate of the cemetery as your eyes landed on a figure not so far away from you. his outfit was different. usually , he'd wear a white shirt and brown pants he loved to wear to the cemetery.

however , he wore a blue shirt and dark blue pants. the colour was melancholic and as if symbolising one's sorrows. was that what he was feeling at the moment ?

your dragged your feet towards him instead of your grandparents' graves. for once , you're not going towards them and they might be clapping for you wherever they are. maybe , it was time to migrate to a new garden.

it's not like you're supposed to leave the garden you worked with your grandparents , there were numerous species of flowers in your garden. some symbolised happiness and good news , some disappointment and departure.

maybe , you ought to grow a profusion of flowers with someone else. maybe , kita was the right person for it.

"hey , kita."

he didn't turn around to meet your eyes , it was you who were behind him instead. this time , you weren't offering gloves like he did.

you offered your hand to let him hold and he finally turned around. his right hand twitched as if wanting to grabbed yours but he didn't.

sighing , you dropped your hand. the hem of your shirt was gripped by your hands instead , not really wanting to show the disappointment. yet , he could see it in your eyes.

while your eyes casted downwards , his eyes stared at your half lidded eyes. he saw his figure and he thought about how you see him. was he beautiful in your eyes? did you want to capture his heart and hug his soul like he did?

the love he felt for you was stronger than the disappointment he had and he decided to focus on that. "why are you here?"

his voice made you look up to meet his eyes , making you feel even more guilty. his face held a thousand words unspoken and you rue the day you said those words to him.

"i don't think we are friends because you didn't say or clarify anything. i thought the only thing we shared in common was grief," you took a deep breath before continuing.

"and we were never close back then. i was confused as to why we suddenly got close after not seeing each other for a long time?"

"i had always wanted to be your friend and talk to you. but i respect the fact that you only talk to girls so i assumed you would never have time for me simply because i am a man."

"seriously? i–"

"wait , i'm not finished. i do want to be your friend but i thought we don't have to clarify anything to be friends , right?"

"oh my , kita. you are bad at socialising," you huffed and slapped his chest. he held his chest while looking concerned and frowned.

"i am not , i think."

"if we are the way we are , i would just say we are acquaintances. not friends , because i don't know anything much about you."

his frown was even tighter , "really? do we really have to dig into someone's privacy to finally be friends?"

"no , just ask simple questions instead of saying eccentric stuff most of the time. and don't appear suddenly behind me. greet or make some noises before you just speak up," you sighed and crossed your arms.

"oh , i hope i never gave you heart attack."

"i am perfectly healthy , thank you."

you smiled at him before holding out your palm towards him. "we good?"

"yes."

he took your hand and the both of you went walked away from the cemetery , quite happy that you could move onto the next step of the relationship you have.

you were sure it was not quite a friendship nor a relationship but something in between. and you know you'll be able to work it all out together.

another flower appeared on a garden , finally having a place for itself.

"going to sleep?" he asks. you hum an affirmative sound, eyes already closed. he echoes it back.

he doesn't get off his phone, and the soft blue light emanating from the device keeps you in the limbo between consciousness and sleep for just a while longer.

long enough to feel him shuffle—minimal movement but it's easy to tell when you're all pressed up like this—angling his face toward you, then the softness of his lips when they kiss your forehead.

but suna is soft and he is warm, his hand is back to stroking your skin, and you're too far gone to know if it was real or a figment of the fondness you nurture for him.

you like suna rintarou a little too much at 3:29pm on the crowded train home, but you've found two empty seats to yourselves at the very end. you're by the window, dizzy with your eyes closed and your head on his shoulder because the lady across the aisle has enough perfume to suffocate the entire carriage.

the train ride is mostly quiet but the sun is loud and has no regard for your peace. it blares down on you even through the thin curtain that separates you and the glass window, like miya atsumu when he's been deprived of attention for a while.

your eyelids twitch, then a shadow befalls your face. when you peek an eye open, suna's got his big hand over your head like it's all just so casual. you tilt your head to look at him, but he only coaxes you back on his shoulder. you're not sure if he notices the heat of color on your cheeks, but he doesn't comment either way.

"go to sleep," he says, completely unfazed by the solar assault on his own eyes. "i’ll wake you when we get there."

you like suna rintarou a little too much at 8:18pm in the third set of a match that has dragged on for way longer than anyone expected. he moves like a blur on the court, and you're the always the first person to jump from your seat whenever he blocks a spike or lands a clean hit.

"sunarin!" you would yell, holding up a sign with his name in bold glittery letters, loud enough to drown out some of the miya fangirls.

suna would find you no matter where you are in the stands. he looks to you first every time, because catching that bright grin of yours is always better than raucous cheers from his teammates.

it's easy to categorize the neutral expression on his face as indifference, but you know him better than most. know that the slight quirk of his lips communicates something only you two can understand.

it's warm, so fuzzy that you don't notice the way the rest of the team follows suna's line of sight, nor the teasing and knowing smiles when their gazes land on you.

"i'm your first supporter, rin," you had said once upon a time, back when you were just children, your hands bandaging his scraped up knees after volleyball with the other neighborhood kids. "i'm your biggest supporter!"

years later and you're still watching him from the bleachers, still wearing that smile so bright it could rival the sun.

the match resumes, he goes back into position but his eyes remain on you for a second longer.

you like suna rintarou a little too much at 12:22am on a midnight snack run with the miyas, even though half your attention is divided on atsumu who keeps throwing pointed chuckles at suna because the convenience store cashier is not subtle at all.

maybe she doesn't need to care about subtlety when she's that pretty. every brush of her fingers against suna's as he hands her your shared items seems deliberate. you're standing right here—probably looking like chopped liver to a woman on a mission—and you don't know if suna notices her flirty smiles or if he just doesn't care, but that spark of irritation flares up inside you anyhow.

when he pulls out his wallet, you're still huffing internally, already picturing how this next minute could play out. she'd bat her eyelashes, put on a devastatingly beautiful smile and suna would cave because he's still just a man after all.

someone gasps—atsumu, likely—and you snap out of it just fast enough to catch the cashier slump slightly. she glances at you, and you're looking over suna's shoulders to find him fishing out some bills, but he's holding the wallet open for longer than you think is necessary. in the transparent photo slot is something you thought you lost a while back, a polaroid of you making a silly face at the camera. he's there too, barely visible peeking out from behind, but he was looking at you.

suna thanks the cashier politely and grabs the plastic bag from the counter. when he leads you out the door by your hand, you don't even need to look back to know it's atsumu who's squealing into his palm.

you even like suna rintarou at 7:12am on a cloudy sunday morning, maybe a little less than usual when he's pounding on your door like he's about to kick it down any second now.

"what the fuck?" you snarl when you catch him on the other side of the threshold. "i was sleeping!"

he's out of breath, his hair's all wind blown, that lanky figure of his leaning against your doorframe as if he’s about to pass out. even half-asleep, you know that he's not supposed to be here. no, he's supposed to be on a stuffy bus with the rest of his teammates on the way to a tournament in another city.

three hours away for three weeks. you already said your goodbyes last night, already sent him off with a handmade bracelet for good luck.

"i just…" he starts, but it comes out ragged because there's still not enough air in his lungs. he steps forward regardless, uncaring of your disheveled appearance—messy bedhead and your sleep shirt hanging off one shoulder—and pulls you all up into his personal space.

there's a sheen of perspiration on his forehead that you spot from this close. you hear the incessant buzzing of his phone in his pocket, but suna doesn't seem bothered so you don't ask. one of his hands finds the nape of your neck, not unfamiliar, but still quite foreign in this context that you haven't yet deciphered.

"i need to do something," he says, his voice much more even now. and you would ask question what on earth could he possibly need to do at the ass crack of a sunday morning, but his other hand finds the small of your back and you feel the butterflies again, rampant and insane.

"rin…"

then he's leaning in until there's no space between you at all. his lips on yours, tasting faintly of mint and the mango gummies you gave him in case he got carsick. the sky is still cloudy, but you're kissing him back and suddenly you don't mind at all that he almost broke down your door and disrupted your much needed day off.

you're dumbstruck when he pulls back with cheeks rosy and lips shiny, and his gaze is fixed on your mouth. sharp eyes now softened, pupils all dilated. you don't reckon you look any better.

what the fuck.

maybe the thought actually comes out in a dazed mumble because your best friend is laughing lightly, his hands still holding you close. "you're not coming with us this time," he says. "i'm gonna miss you."

and it's on a gloomy sunday morning in the threshold of your home that you realize, belatedly, despite all the signs and blurry lines and knowing grins from the miyas, that suna rintarou likes you too.

maybe a little too much.

artist!reader with skater!suna who is determined to befriend you after your brief interaction. he waits at the same steps of the art building until your classes finish, skating up to you when he spots your familiar figure. he attempts to strike up a conversation by commenting on how "serious" you always look, and it's then that you bite back with a witty retort and he grins.

"took you long enough to talk to me."

artist!reader and skater!suna who both hang out at the skatepark together one afternoon. you're practicing your motion sketches, discreetly observing suna skate and using him as a reference for your drawings. 

suna walks over to you, leaning on his board. “whatcha drawing, picasso?”

“you,” you say without looking up. his heart skips and he can feel his face grow warm.

“oh yeah?” he peers over your shoulder. “do i look cool?”

“you’d look cooler if you didn’t wipe out every five minutes,” you deadpan, flipping to another page.

“alright, picasso,” he says, with a roll of his eyes. “let’s see you try then.”

and that’s how you find yourself on top of suna’s skateboard, gripping his shoulders for dear life.

“relax, you’ll be fine,” he says, holding your hands to steady you.

“easy for you to say,” you grumble, eyes wide as he starts to slowly push the board.

you don’t even make it five feet before you’re losing your balance and falling. suna doubles over laughing, pulling out his phone with a sinister grin. “hold still, i need a picture of this for the archives.”

“don’t you dare,” you warn, scrambling to your feet. but it’s too late—he’s already posting it on his story with the caption: skating > art

artist!reader who gives skater!suna the nickname deckhead, after a particularly grueling painting session. 

“can you please just focus for once?” standing up from your desk and tossing your paintbrush aside, you continue angrily. “i’m trying to get this done, and you’re just—”

“distracting?” suna interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “you’re the one acting like the world’s ending because you can’t paint a perfect line.”

there’s a sharp jab of irritation. "it’s not just about the line! i’ve been working nonstop on this, and all you’re doing is—"

he cuts you off again, this time with a half-smile. “i know, i’m sorry.”

you close your eyes to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. but the words slip out before you can stop them. “god, you’re such a dickhead.”

the moment it slips past your lips, you feel the tension rise in the room. it’s silent but as if the universe had a sense of humor, you glare at his skateboard propped against the wall.

“no.” you scoff, shaking your head, your frustration turning into something more mocking. “you’re not even a real dickhead, you’re just a… deckhead.”

suna blinks, frozen for a second. “deckhead?”

you cross your arms, mouth curling into a sinister grin. “yeah, a deckhead—wandering around with that stupid board like it’s your whole personality. you just can’t be serious about anything!”

a beat.

and then he laughs. suna laughs. he laughs so hard that tears are forming in the corners of his eyes. he laughs so hard that you begin laughing too. 

suna sighs slowly, dropping his gaze to meet yours. “i didn’t realize you were genuinely getting upset. i promise i didn’t mean to make you feel worse.”

you let your head rest against your desk. “i know. i’m just frustrated because i’ve been at this for hours and it feels like i’m getting nowhere.” 

there’s a long pause before suna steps closer. “i’ll stop being a deckhead.” 

he grins and ruffles your hair. “... but only because i care.”

artist!reader who invites an incredibly eager skater!suna to one of your artsy gallery showcases. he surprises you by showing up in an actual button-down instead of his usual baggy jeans and shirts, bringing along his skater friends who also happen to be equally fond of you. upon seeing your work, they all begin hyping you up loudly, drawing eyes from surrounding exhibitions and sticking out like sore thumbs.

at one point suna leans in and whispers, "i'm pretty sure that guy over there is trying to steal your vibe."

confused, you turn to see a very serious art critic examining your painting and it takes all your effort to not burst out laughing.

skater!suna who shows up unannounced at artist!reader's studio with a blank skate deck and a set of paint markers.

"what's going on?" you'd just woken up from a nap and suna thought you looked absolutely adorable.

"empty canvas," he breathlessly replies, distracted by his newfound urge to just shrink you and keep you in his pocket. "i thought you could make it cooler." 

and he’s right because you do. 

“dude, where’d you get that?” atsumu asks, pointing at the board the next time suna is at the skatepark. 

“custom-made by that genius over there,” and suna proudly nods towards you, sat on the concrete of the park and deeply concentrated on a sketch.

artist!reader and skater!suna begin dating not through a grand confession, but just a subtle shift.

it happens when suna walks you to your class, a daily ritual that you've both become accustomed to, so it's almost instinctual the way he leans down and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek. you both pause, realizing what just happened, but instead of freaking out, you're clutching onto one another from outside your classroom laughing.

from then on, there's no formal conversation about it--just a mutual understanding. 

skater!suna who asks artist!reader to paint his nails black for him because he saw someone at the skate park with painted nails and thought they looked cool. you nod excitedly and oblige. by the end, suna’s nails are decorated perfectly in black, except for his ring finger which you sneakily managed to paint pink. 

when he notices, he glares at you, “really?”

“you wear it well,” you shrug in response.

artist!reader who stumbles across a notebook in skater!suna’s backpack when he asks you to grab his phone for him. you’re curious and can’t help but flip through it to find… doodles? 

you bring it back for him, his phone long forgotten. “are these supposed to be me?” 

“woah, what the fuck! where’d you find this?!” suna snatches the notebook, immediately shutting it closed before offering you a sheepish grin. “art is hard, okay? not all of us are picasso reincarnated.”

you’re flattered he’s been doodling you in his spare time. 

skater!suna who gets oddly competitive when other skaters are present at the skate park while you’re there. he pulls off more tricks than usual (which is already a lot because he’s always trying to impress you), but looks for your approval after every single one. 

he may have gotten a little too carried away because the next second he’s slipping from his board and now he’s landed flat on his back. he groans, embarrassed while you laugh. he watches you from the ground and wonders if he should make a fool of himself more often just to hear you laugh. he doesn’t let this show and instead rolls his eyes, getting up from the ground. 

“glad you’re entertained, y/n.”

skater!suna who loves to blast his music when practicing tricks vs. artist!reader who needs the quiet to focus. 

“riiiiin! can you turn it down, please? i’m trying to concentrate.” you yell at him.

“i’m literally landing this trick for you.” he replies teasingly, turning the music up even louder. 

you end up compromising with a pair of suna’s noise-cancelling headphones and he begrudgingly lowers the volume—slightly.