#ohireon

do not test me, kenji-san. my power bar recipe is legendary in eight prefectures.

i am fine. simply wondering how i am going to fix our club’s reputation with the entirety of japan.

normally i’d let you talk to him but it’s 4am how are you going to fight someone who isn’t even awake

lucky i’m the one who does it. just come in and have a pastry or eita will flip out

it’s too late for this. i can’t bail you out with aone anymore

ryo tears

of all people, reon was not expecting wakatoshi to show up at the bakery the day after his finals for college. the professional volleyball player had always been a person not too keen on conversation, but the part-time baker had a hard time living with the fact that he couldn’t even meet up with his old friend without various media speculations as to who he was. after all, what would a big-time, world-renowned player like ushijima wakatoshi be doing talking to a person who had no spectacular talents of his own? this is what causes the mingled surprise and alarm in reon’s chest as he opens the door for ushijima. “wakatoshi. it’s been a while since we last talked.”

People do not fall under muscle memory. First to go are mannerisms--the way their words fall, or how emotions settle into their frames. Then, entire moments and weeks and months fade. Wakatoshi wonders how much he has forgotten, and if Reon remembers any of it. (It would be easy to forget.) He nods, because it’s true, and he’s decided on this, at least. There’s no use refusing to acknowledge it.