#myml

"But it doesn't change that you are a ruler and I am your subject."

The grip on his arm falters, as you take a step back and shake your head in disbelief. "Even you now? I've had enough of it all. I never wanted the throne, never wanted to be the ruler."

You turn your back on Akaashi and walk through the maze of flower bushes. Each of them are beautifully maintained by Akaashi, the royal gardener. There's not a single branch out of place, and each bud is vibrant in its color.

"But it's your duty—"

The flowers anger you. Their perfection seems to mock your flaws. Before Akaashi can stop you, you begin to tear and rip at the petals with your bare hands. As the petals shake and fall onto the ground, your skin gets cut from the edges on the stem. You look at the pile of destroyed flowers with rueful pity. Now they're free.

"Y/N!" Akaashi grasps your hand and begins to look at your hands, checking the small scratch marks. He quickly leads you over to the fountain where he rinses off any dirt, rips a strip of cloth from his shirt and carefully wraps the wound for you. "I'll go get the physician, wait for me," he instructs you, preparing to go back to the palace.

You grab his wrist to stop him. "I'm fine, Keiji, just sit with me for a while."

Akaashi seems conflicted and reluctantly sits on the edge of the fountain next to you. "Your highness, why did you do that?"

"Earlier...you called out my name."

"That was...I apologize." Akaashi fails to come up with an excuse. That was because I panicked when I saw you hurt.

You lean your head onto Akaashi's shoulder, closing your eyes, listening to the sound of the fountain behind you. The tranquility of the night is but a temporary escape from the reality you find yourself in.

"Keiji, I know you have feelings for me. And you know of my affections for you. Are you drawing away because you dislike my position? Am I now unworthy of your love?" You are afraid of the day where Akaashi will no longer be honest in front of you, terrified of a moment where Akaashi's actions in front of you will also be out of deference for your status. You don't want that to ever happen.

Akaashi wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer into his embrace.

"Y/N," he begins, smiling slightly when he feels you react to your name. "I know more than anyone else how little you care for the throne. I know the burden you will have to bear; how can I possibly dislike you for that? I love you, ardently so. But I'm just a gardener. I don't know if I can be the support that you need. I'm afraid that...you won't need me anymore."

Akaashi finds you trembling and he fears that he has made you cry, but the quiet laughs that escape from your mouth tell him that you're only amused. You sit up straight and cup Akaashi's face so he'll look at you. With conviction you tell him, "We're both shackled by our roles, thinking of ourselves as unworthy of another. But when I'm with you, I'm just myself. Before anything, are we not just humans first?" And lovers next?

Akaashi covers your hand with his. "It seems like both of us were riddled with worries."

Yes, much like how the weeds try to fight their way amongst the flowers, the insecurities plaguing both of you tried to draw you apart.

"Love taken root cannot be unearthed so easily, let's work hard for us." You whisper, pressing your forehead against his. Any opposition that may happen...you'll fight them all if only Akaashi will accept you. You can just barely sense his breathing on your face. "Give me a little time, Keiji. If you will have me..."

Akaashi leans forward and presses a gentle kiss on your lips, murmuring in the shared breath, "It would be my honor, to love and cherish you."

You acknowledge his vow, capturing his lips once more, this time with more excitement and passion, as your hand threads into his hair. You can feel Akaashi smiling into the kiss as he holds you close. Misunderstandings slowly get erased away.

When you pull away, you find Akaashi's glinting eyes teasing your gaze. "What are you looking at," you ask with embarrassment.

"Your highness, earlier you messed with my rose bushes. The poor flowers are collateral."

You think back to your little tantrum earlier and apologize. "That's my fault, sorry about that. How should I pay you back?"

"Anything?"

"Anything," you reply easily. What can you possibly not give him once the ceremony is over tomorrow?

Akaashi chuckles and whispers, "I'll have you. Always and forever."

Once you get past the sliding doors, it's just mayhem. Voices echoing, people rushing everywhere. You're lucky to pick up a basket that got pushed and forgotten in a corner. Somehow by following the waves of people, going along with the tide of the human sea, you manage to find yourself at the furthest end of the whole store. Absolutely not the snack aisle that you aimed to be at in the first place. You pick up a plastic basin and scrutinize the overly saturated hue. Do you need this? Ahh. You stack the bin back with its other friends and continue down the aisle hoping the other end will have some leeway.

Osamu enters and luckily obtains a basket from someone leaving already. He thanks them before going about to maneuver around crowds and goes to the vegetable section. But before he gets there, he passes through the snack aisle and sees a bag of rice crackers that he used to really like. Feeling a little nostalgic, he picks it up and looks at the same old packaging with the same contents. He and Atsumu used to fight over it, till the point their parents end up getting two bags and labeling them by each twin's name. That never worked because Atsumu gave no shits. That reminds him, maybe he'll get some pudding today too. The nice ones in the glass jar sold as a solo unit, not the three-pack.

As you make your way to the snack aisle from one end, while Osamu is whipping his phone out to take a picture of the snack to send to Atsumu, the loudspeaker sounds through the grocery store.

"Welcome to EMI'S! Your friendly neighborhood supermarket! Get your fresh greens! Your snacks! And all your home needs in one place! We're having our monthly special event today and it's a BIG one! Just today, couples get 50% off all fresh produce! And additionally, the first 100 couples at our register will also receive a deluxe voucher for a romantic dinner! Only while supplies last! One-stop to get your life together, only at EMI's!"

Well shit, you're alone. Couples. Couples. Couples. What sort of madness is that? It's at this point that you are standing near the middle of the aisle, holding a snack in one hand and the shopping basket in the other, staring. The man in front of you is insanely attractive. Broad shoulders tapering down to an impeccable waistline.

Osamu mulls over the announcement details, repeating the keywords in his head. 50% fresh produce? Damn, that is really nice. He should hurry to the produce section and go get all the rest of his groceries. He sees you...sees a familiar packaging that you're holding.

"Ah," he points at your hand, "that one is really good." He holds the one he just grabbed too.

His voice is pleasant and what you notice is that he's alone. You flash him a grin, "I know! Even though it's been so many years, the packaging design hasn't even changed yet either. I can notice it anywhere."

Osamu nods fervently, as though he has finally met someone of the same caliber, level of taste, as he. "The same company that makes it also came out with some new flavors, but I haven't tried them yet." He takes a few steps closer to you and points out the products on the shelves.

"Woah," you take a step to get a better look, "Okay, maybe I'll try something new today!"

From your current distance, you can easily see the inscription on the metal tag across his chest, Miya Osamu. He seems friendly. Come on just ask, you tell yourself. It's not as though it is real. Not as though you'll ever see him again. And if he's alone, then it's a win-win for both of you solo errand-runners.

"So—"

"Oh, those pudding cups are great!" He points out the glass pudding jars in your basket. "Where did you get them?"

You point behind you from where you came from. Right when you are also expertly about to add on your proposal to the end when Osamu's phone rings. Alas, that's how Miya Osamu, the fake boyfriend target zooms past you, screaming, "Shut up 'Tsumu" into the phone and going for what looks like the pudding.

You sigh and look at your shopping basket. If you can't get the discount, should you buy all of these? But you don't come here that frequently and you do need to stock up. Ramen. Ramen. Ramen. Hm. Yes.

It's been fifteen minutes after Miya Osamu walks past you, and now you are waiting in line for the cash register, behind a familiar person yet again. You recognize the dark t-shirt and shoulders; even with the subdued colors of the shirt, the fabric fits snugly around him and makes him look extremely handsome. Should you even bother to give another shot?

The current guests at the register are gathering their bags, ready to exit. A couple. Maybe it's at this specific instance and visual reminder, Miya Osamu finally recollects the complete loudspeaker announcement. As if the store picks up his confusion, the loudspeaker announcement sounds again, "Welcome to EMI's!"

Couples. COUPLES! Osamu wants to just scream. The couple leaves and the cashier waves a hand calling out, "Next in line." Osamu panics, getting ready to give up and gather the monstrous pile of groceries he's carrying and put them back where they belong, in utter shame and embarrassment. He wouldn't have bought this much today if there wasn't a special discount event. Hell, he even invited people over today...food on him. It's okay, Osamu tells himself. He has big boy money now from his job, it won't break his wallet completely.

Suddenly, he remembers how you wanted to tell him something earlier at the snack aisle. Seeing how you're alone right now too, Osamu dares to consider the possibility that you were going to propose acting as a couple at the register. But Atsumu just had to call and disrupt things at the time. And it's too late now because the cashier is right there and you're looking at your phone lost in thought.

"Ah Y/N!" Osamu calls out, "It's our turn." It's worth a shot, if not then he'll dig a hole and just jump into it. He tries his hardest to shoot a look at you. Please play along. Please understand the situation.

You look up from your phone, confused at the voice calling your name. How in the world does he know?! What's going on. Before you can even process your thoughts, Osamu comes by to take the basket from your hands and puts it on the belt.

"Aw! What a lovely couple! You two look absolutely adorable together!" the cashier granny coos.

The situation begins to unfold in the most bizarre way possible. Between nervous chuckles and each beep of items being weighed and scanned, you and Osamu stand in front of the register awkwardly. Pray tell, what kind of couple gives off the vibe of coming from the two of you?

"Got together not too long ago, huh?"

"W-what?" Osamu stammers, unsure how to even answer.

You glance at Osamu's face flushing in embarrassment and decide to answer. "Yep, just recently! First time grocery shopping together though, we were just looking at the snacks we liked when we were young. Lot's of similarities actually!"

"That's so sweet!" Cashier Granny comments, scanning the last item. "Looks like there's a feast going on! You two picked a good day to come. Okay. Now, factoring the discount, whew, it's this much." She taps the screen to show the total.

Both of you reach for the wallet at the same time. The Cashier Granny watches both of you with mirth in her wise, old eyes. She says something unexpected. "I can split it across two cards based on the basket," she offers.

But wait, does this mean that she knows? She hums an old tune while punching some numbers in and charges each card separately. You look at the screen and see that the discount is still there. And there aren't any questions either, so maybe you're just overthinking it?

The cashier granny gives Osamu a fancy envelope. "This is a coupon to the restaurant that we're partnering with. And lucky for the two of you! It's the 100th one. Last coupon we have!"

"Thanks," he says awkwardly, receiving the paper. Earlier, he was sure the two of you made it obvious that not only were you two not a couple, the two of you barely even knew each other. The whole show was a mess and beyond fake.

"That restaurant is really good!" Granny mentions, "really nice ambiance, the perfect place to get to know each other better." She finishes off with a wink.

Flabbergasted, you're about to make a retort when Osamu gathers up all the groceries and pulls you off to the side. The Granny only laughs and waves her hand to the next customer in line.

Outside EMI's, you feel your blood pressure just rising higher and higher. That granny knew. Of course, she knew, Osamu thinks to himself. It's just so obvious.

There is one question on your mind that you now suddenly remember. Squinting at Osamu, you break the silence and ask, "Oh yea, how did you know my name?"

Osamu gestures to your hip with his chin jutting out just slightly. "You didn't take your badge off...like me."

You follow his direction and glance down. Sure enough, your badge is still clipped there. Fair, he's just observant, sometimes.

"Cool."

Silence.

You take a deep breath, "So, I'll be going now, uhh Miya. Nice meeting you..."

"Wait!" Osamu calls you before you can leave. He struggles to balance all the bags of groceries that he has but manages to pull out the envelope coupon. "Um, this is for two people. Do you...Would you want to go? I recognize the name and it's pretty good I've heard."

Silence, as you try to process the situation. Osamu's phone rings again and he quickly sets his grocery down for a moment, scribbling something on the coupon and shoving the slightly crumpled envelope into your hand. He answers the phone but doesn't respond yet, still looking at you and attempting to convey his thoughts. "Hope to hear from you Y/N! Nice meeting ya," he glances at the phone briefly and turns his attention back to you momentarily, "and feel free to call me Osamu! Sorry, I really have to go."

Osamu takes a few more steps back, waving at you and telling his phone that "you're calling at a horrible time." He takes some more strides away and every now and then turns to see if you're still watching his leaving form. Two more awkward waves later, he's gone from your sight.

You finally start to walk in the other direction to where you came from. You pass the first block away from EMI's and arrive at a pedestrian crossing. While waiting for the lights to change, you decide to examine the envelope Osamu shoves into your hand. It's a messy but still legible scrawl.

Hi Y/N! If ya wanna go with someone else, here ya go. But maybe we can go together, this is my number.

You chuckle to yourself, should you?

"Should I?" you ask yourself aloud.

The pedestrian light turns green.

Yes.

It’s eucalyptus, you realize. Akaashi takes off his apron, of which you have a matching one, and instead of sitting down to eat with you, he goes to turn on the audio system.

“Come on, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

“Almost, just give me a second.”

Akaashi browses through the CD and vinyl collection that the two of you share. After moving in together, both of you realized that the two of you own mostly the same stuff. Now, there are numerous duplicates sitting side by side together. Akaashi’s eyes light up when his fingers trace over one particular album. Taking a quick peek at your preoccupied, impatient self at the dinner table, he’s unable to hide the smile that spreads across his face as he takes the CD out and puts it into the music player. 

A familiar melody fills the apartment.

“Keiji, isn’t this…”

Akaashi’s smile grows even wider when he sees your eyes of bewilderment gradually relax into soft, reminiscing crescents.

“Happy anniversary.”

Music takes you back to a beloved memory of the past: clear blue skies, songs of birds, and the warm glow of summer sun by the beach. The welcome bells chime cheerfully when you enter the shop filled with the scent of ink on paper and the freshness of eucalyptus. A treasure trove of wonders, the recordstore presents its numerous shelves of stories, waiting to be discovered and found.

As you wander through the sections, crouching down low or tip-toe up high, tilting your head to the right to read the labels, you finally arrive at the music section you’re looking for. It’s a small, but well-stocked corner of the whole shop. There’s no one around you at all. 

You select an album with a pretty cover and bring it to the sampling area for a listen. Not this one. You pick another. Not that one either. Maybe today just isn’t your day; maybe the store simply can’t offer what you need. There’s one particular album that you have been looking for, probably long-forgotten by the public and difficult to find. The odds are low, but you don’t have high expectations anyway.

Your fingertips barely brush over the edges of each album, running the alphabet through your head numerous times. The letter starts with…

It’s this one! You feel a burst of excitement as your fingers find, almost magically, exactly what you’ve been hoping for. You automatically reach for the album just as another hand does the same.

Fingertips touch and then both quickly withdraw. Your eyes dart towards the person next to you who also meets your gaze. 

“And then I said ‘pardon me’, and you just stared at me like I grew two heads!” Akaashi finishes with a laugh.

“Not true!” you retort back.

It’s long after dinner now; the two of you are simply lazing together on the couch. If one has to ask, the album playing is technically yours since Akaashi did let you take it in the end. It’s purchased with your money after all. The coffee afterwards was courtesy of Akaashi, however.

Many coffee shop and library dates later, after two memorable concerts, it’s safe to say that the tune still playing from the speakers is now shared. Sounds and scents carry meanings and hold memories. For you and Akaashi, this song tells the story of your love. And the smell of eucalyptus is now home.

Akaashi is almost like an endless fountain of love. His love flows in gentle words that calm you when you have a stressful day. You can taste his affection in the warm drinks he brings you. If you’re detailed, you’ll notice his care in all the small peculiar habits about you that he remembers like second-nature. You can feel it in your shoulders that are now lighter because he’s with you to share life’s burden along the way.

For Akaashi, the brightness of your laugh and your carefree hums as you go about your day are seemingly the answers to all of the world’s mysteries. He’ll be there to cheer for you when your vibrant soul gleams brightest. He’ll be right next to you when it feels like the lights are all going out.

You shift slightly in Akaashi’s arms and reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. Akaashi watches, with an adoring gaze, as you lean into his warm embrace with your eyes closed. He tucks the blanket around you and shuts his eyes too.

The two of you listen. 

There’s his breath. There’s your breath. There’s his heartbeat and there’s yours. And there’s the gentle sound of rain hitting the window frame detailing the passing of time.

“Coming!” you call out from the other side, fumbling around boxes and packing materials to get to the door. You swing the door open. “Hey.”

Kita blinks at you, dumbfounded for a moment before pointing at the boxes he just set down. “Oh um. Your packages are here.”

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence.

Kita clears his throat. “I’m Kita Shinsuke, um your neighbor…I think you have been sending packages to the wrong address, by the way.”

“Huh? No way, it’s auto-inputted.” You pull your phone out to check the delivery confirmations. It’s not your address, you grimace. “Sorry about that,” you apologize sheepishly. “I’ll be careful next time…”

“It’s okay...” 

You introduce yourself too. But from the number of times your packages are delivered to Kita’s residency, you’re sure he knows your name already. Then the awkward silence comes back.

“Well, if there’s anything, I’m just four doors down.” Kita says, preparing to excuse himself.

“Actually!” you blurt out, “do you happen to know how to assemble furniture?” You open the door wider and point at the mess you currently have in the living room.

“I’m not an expert but I can take a look if you’d like.”

You welcome Kita in and notice how he takes his shoes off at the genkan and lines the pair with precision neatness in the corner. Meanwhile, a quick glance at the haphazard pile of shoes you have in the corner has you jotting a mental note to clean that up later.

Kita asks for the instruction manual of the furniture and takes a look at the diagrams and numbers, taking careful inventory of the delicate metal parts in the little bags. He’s so attentive and careful. Incredibly polite as well. You fall into ease, looking over the manual together, and finding the right bolts and screws for the next assembly step.

Some of the assembly requires one person to hold a piece in place while another person tightens the joints. The two of you work really well together. Small talk goes smoothly too, as the number of awkward silences dwindle away. Kita asks about how you are liking the new neighborhood. You tell him how unfamiliar everything is. He assures you that the neighbors are all welcoming and you’ll easily fit in.

If the neighbors are half as kind as Kita, you think you have a lot to look forward to. And Kita, especially, his whole presence puts you at ease. He’s not very talkative, but when he does speak it’s lively and genuine.It doesn’t take long before the two of you finish assembling the shelves and chairs that will decorate your new home. It’s almost too fast.

“Thanks for all your help Kita,” you tell him, seeing him to the door.

Kita slips on his shoes. “It was nothing.”

“Um—

You don’t want him to go just yet. You feel so embarrassed at the thought of asking for some more time with him. After all the time of his you have already taken up? The two of you are neighbors right? There are plenty of chances for the two of you to talk again. 

Still, it probably won’t be the same again. It won’t have this same atmosphere or the magic of the moment. At most, you wonder if it’ll just be the same courteous “hey”, “good morning” like between typical neighbors. There’s still so much to Kita that you want to know and hear. You swallow the lump in your throat. Come on, at least ask for a phone number or something. Use furniture questions as an excuse, perhaps?

A loud growl cuts in.

You laugh awkwardly and quickly hold onto your midsection to quiet the noise that has already made itself known. “Excuse me, hah.”

Kita laughs briefly and checks the time on his wristwatch. “It’s certainly dinnertime already. Seems like you haven’t eaten yet either. Do you want to go together?”

“Sure!” you blurt out almost too eagerly. You quickly grab your wallet and slip your shoes on, closing the door behind you. In your zeal, you don’t realize that you actually left the house keys on the counter. You probably won’t realize until much later that evening that you’re locked out.

It’s been a while since Kita has heard such lively chatter from another person. He’s so used to planning his days out with all the tasks he needs to do. So, unannounced visits, impromptu socializing really aren’t on his mind. But it’s so nice. Relaxing and just simply so.

The walk with you down the apartment hall is particularly pleasant, and he isn’t quite sure why his steps feel lighter or how the overhead lights seem brighter. 

Kita feels his face flushing and asks, “Do you like onigiri? I know a good place not too far from here.”

You smile back. “Sounds great!”

You look at your phone and see the 6:27 flash across the screen. Oikawa should be up by now. Usually, he has to wake up early for practice and usually at this time he’ll send you a message. But the few times you refresh your phone tells you nothing but the time and weather. You text him a ‘good morning’ and with a sigh, you decide to pack your bags for the day. The project can continue tomorrow.

Is he okay? Did he oversleep? Or maybe he’s sick? You roll your eyes at those thoughts. Why are you even getting worked up about that? It’s just one day he missed. You’re independent, not clingy. There are days you forget to text him in the morning too. You push those messy thoughts aside as you walk to the main entrance of the office building. Even before exiting the building, you can already hear the loud curtain of rain slamming onto the pavement.

Usually downpours like this won’t last so long, so you decide to stay under the overhang and wait for the rain to die down a little before rushing out. Meanwhile, you watch the people walking about. Some of them are couples, tightly linking arms as they huddle under the same umbrella. Even if you have an umbrella, there’s no one to hold hands or link arms with you. There is, but he’s practically across the ocean, countless time-zones away.

There you go with the lamenting, you chide yourself. You check your phone one more time for good measure. Still nothing. Not left on read. Just nothing. What’s more, the rain doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

Well, you can’t keep waiting here. Some rain isn’t going to hurt you, and thankfully your bag is weather-resistant, so your electronics will be safe in their compartments. You lift the bag above your head and prepare to make a mad dash for the subway station. 

A few steps into the rain already has your shoulder drenched and shoes sloshing with water miserably. What are the odds he actually appears with an umbrella or something? You snort to yourself at the ridiculous thought. What sort of daydream is that?

But it would be nice to feel his warmth again.

“Wait! Wait up! Oh my god, you run so fast!”

You’ll recognize that voice anywhere. No matter how warped it can get over the telephone line, how fake it sounds across bad signals. In whispers or in shouts, of course you know that sound. Like a melody of a song that is engraved across your heart, it’s Oikawa Tooru.

You see his figure in the distance running towards you with an umbrella over his pretty head. His other arm is dragging a suitcase that’s drenched by the rain. Never in your dreams, could you possibly imagine this, so how? It just doesn’t make any rational sense. There’s no good reason for Oikawa to be here, right now, it just doesn’t make sense.

It doesn’t need to make sense. 

You drop your bag and  take the final steps to meet him half-way, throwing your arms around him while ignoring everything else. He returns the embrace you have so craved and desperately dreamed of. Nights wrapped in blankets imagining they were him. Days busying yourself so you won’t think of him, only to see his twinkling eyes in your dreams.

“Tooru, I missed you so much,” you cry out, tightening your arms around him, not caring if your wet clothes are getting his clothes damp. All you want is to hold on and never let go. Oikawa runs a soothing hand down your back. “You didn’t respond and I was thinking the worst. I...I missed you so much, so much.” 

The pitter-patters of the rain on the umbrella are like soft drums. It’s dry, quiet and private. Oikawa cups your face so he can take a good look at the one he so dearly missed as well. The trip’s worth it. You’re worth it. 

You let him bring you closer for a soft kiss. He smells like the rain. Like 23 hours on a plane. Like the taxi. Oikawa smells and feels like love.

“I missed you too, I’m here now.”