#it's technically late

The bright morning sun reflected off the still damp pavement, making everything seem as bright as you felt. Your cards have been held so close to your chest that even you couldn’t see them, not until your arm got too heavy, and they spilled in a 52 card pick up of emotions.  You weren’t sure your hands were big enough to hold them all again, but Osamu was there to help you when they fell on the floor.

The juxtaposition of the smell of rain on your clothes and the warm sun on your skin brought you comfort. You faced a storm of your own, fighting its growing strength for months, and the clouds finally broke.

Osamu loved the way you swung his hand in time with your steps. He could tell you were tired, but that wasn’t enough to dampen the skip in your step. He’s seen you smile many times before, but the one on your face now filled his entire being more than any food he’s ever encountered. 

He cursed how short the walk was from his home to yours—he wasn’t ready to let you go. You were feeling the same way, which is why you didn’t let go of his hand as you walked inside your house, dragging him along behind you. 

“I’m home!” Your announcement was answered by a loud meow, but the moment your cat saw you weren’t alone, they ran off. They missed you, but not enough to share your attention with a stranger. 

“I didn’t know ya had a cat.”

“Two, actually. They aren’t very big on meeting new people.” When you walked into the living room, you didn’t see your dad. He was probably still asleep. It was almost noon, but this wasn’t uncommon for your dad to sleep late on the weekends. 

Osamu waited in the living room while you changed into clean clothes. You usually didn’t have plans on the weekend, aside from some occasional manager duties, and there wasn’t a tournament or big game coming up soon so your job was limited in its responsibilities, giving you freedom to do what you wanted. 

Osamu was beginning to get concerned; you have been in your room for over 30 minutes now. He debated checking up on you, thinking, maybe, you fell asleep by accident. 

He had just turned into the hallway when you stepped out of your room. It took him a second to process you before him. He knew now why you were taking so long and he was suddenly feeling underdressed. 

You tried to reassure him several times that he looked fine. You weren’t even dressed up, it was just something you threw on, but he didn’t see it that way. 30 minutes getting ready wasn’t just a “I just threw this on” thing; you looked so pretty and he felt like a bum. 

You brought him to a small cafe just up the street from your home. He had been here before, but only once, and it was when you had texted him and Atsumu to meet. This was the cafe you got stood up at. Just as he was turning his head to ask about it, light from the skylight bounced off your skin and stopped his question in his throat. You could feel him staring at you.

“What?” You giggled when you made eye contact with him; you could tell his mind was somewhere else. You softly laughed as you directed your eyes back to the menu. 

“Wasn’t this where ya got stood up?” He remembered to ask afterway through his meal. “Why did ya wanna come here?” 

“This was my favorite cafe. After that day, I haven’t been back.”

“Why now then?”

“I want to associate the cafe with you. So I can come back here like I used to.”