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Mornings were a sacred time for Hayato. He wasn’t sure what started it, but mornings were his favourite time of day. It was a time to himself, a time to breathe, a time to prepare for the day.
It was a one sided competition for him—who would rise first, himself or the sun?
His routine was one of repetition. It felt good to have one thing that stayed static in his life. Don't get him wrong, he was all for the sporadic moments and unplanned events in life. But having the mornings? It was Hayato’s own pleasure.
He was all for his friends, but he really loved this time alone. No noise, just him, himself, Hayato Yamagata, and the occasional bird who sang outside.
At least, that’s what normally happened.
In the communal kitchen today, someone else seemed to have beaten him first. The boy’s back was turned, and Hayato could hear the faint bubbling of the kettle coming from the stove. Despite the lack of light, Hayato had a good guess on who the mystery boy was based on height alone.
“Taichi?” The second year in question froze, kettle in hand. “Why are you awake?”
“Hayato-san?” He could guess the expression on the other's face. Eyebrows raised by the slightest, barely noticeable on his placid face unless you cared to notice. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
That certainly didnt answer his question.
“Nah, you’re fine man. I wake up this early all the time. But you,” he gestured vaguely at his silhouette, “are boiling water in the dark at five in the morning. Why are you even awa— no, why are you in the dark?”
Sheepishly, the Taichi shadow seemed to fidget with the handle of the kettle. “Couldn’t sleep. Wanted tea. Didn’t want to disturb anyone.”
“Dude, we have practice in an hour,” Hayato said incredulously.
“Unfortunately,” Taichi agreed, solemnly nodding his head at the damning comment. He held up the kettle again. “Want some?”
“What tea are you making?”
“Black. Heard it helps wake you up without the coffee side effects.” Coffee has side effects?
“Why not? Also, what side effects?” Hayato observed as the boy retrieved another mug, ripping open another tea bag. The sound of pouring water filled the kitchen as he registered the faint scent of the tea.
“Coffee makes me feel weird.” Taichi explained, giving his mug a stir. “It does wake me up, but it makes me feel all jittery and stuff.”
This was another instance where Hayato learnt something new about his teammates.
“Thats interesting. Tea but not coffee. Taichi? Tai-tea! Eh? Eh? No? Ah fine sorry.” His ego inflated massively once he caught the sound of a soft snort. Victory! I knew I was funny! Suck that, Satori!
“Tea’s done. You want it with sugar?” Taichi asked, no evidence of his laugh traced in his voice.
“Sugar?”
“People put sugar in tea. I mean I don’t do it with green but I heard it tastes better with sugar in black so—“
“Why not, I like sugar.” Hayato grabbed a dry spoon, and handed it to Taichi, who had taken out the sugar. “You’re pretty good at finding your way around in the dark.”
“I have good eyesight.” He said simply.
“People also put cream in their tea. Interesting right?” Hayato added on to the original thought of tea. “Cream and sugar. Who would have thought? Maybe we should try with cream next time.”
He didn’t notice how Taichi stiffened at the next time.
“Here’s your tea, senpai.” The mug was warm to the touch, and had a rich scent when he wafted it towards himself.
“Thanks.” He paused, considering the hour.
“Want to go see the sunrise with me?” Another reason why Hayato loved the mornings, was the sunrise. It was a moment he got to steal for himself, seeing the watercolour sky transition so quick, yet so slow. Japan was the land of the rising sun, so why wouldn’t he wake to appreciate it in its full glory?
“I haven’t seen a sunrise in a while,” Taichi admitted softly. Hayato gaped at him.
“You haven’t?” His view was very biased, having seen sunrises almost every morning for the past 5 years of his life. But doesn’t everyone wake up a little earlier to see nature at its full beauty?
“No, Hayato-san. I prefer pinching every second I can out of my sleep.”
“That’s it, you have to come with.”
Hayato’s cheerful demeanor was a weapon like no other. Frankly it seemed to work exclusively on Taichi alone. At this point he had mastered the art of using it to his advantage. Of course, he didn’t fool everyone (Jin was practically immune), but it worked astonishingly well on Taichi. He always seemed to falter slightly, debating to himself. He always seemed to melt away like ice whenever Hayato smiled just a little bit brighter.
He probably thought that Hayato didn’t notice it, but he did.
Taichi mumbled something about cleaning, but made no additional argument as Hayato looped their arms together and tugged him down the stairwell.
He let himself be dragged incessantly, focusing purely on not spilling the tea until they were both hit by the chill of dawn. There was little complaint about the temperature, instead, he loomed behind him like a long shadow.
“Watch, this is one of the best things you could look at,” Hayato insisted, snorting at the unimpressed look on the second year’s face.
“I see the same thing every evening though.”
“Sunrise and sunset. Two different things. The rise just hits differently when I can see how the days become bright. Then I think, ‘gosh, this is cool as hell’ and come back for more the next day,” he replied, proud of himself for educating the younger generation. Good on me.
“Really now?” Taichi had a skeptical look on his face.
“Yes, now come on!” The pair of them exited the dormitories, just in the nick of time. The sky still shone a deep blue, and if Hayato squinted, he could make out the faintest hints of light over the horizon. “Ready?”
He and Taichi faced each other, steaming mugs of tea in hand. The other's jacket was slung around him, almost like a shield from the rest of the world. It made sense, the mornings were always chilly.
“I guess so,” Taichi replied. Hayato flashed him another smile, and the sky began to brighten. The two of them watched in quiet appreciation as the world began to wake up. Soon, Toshi would even be on his morning jog.
“How was that?” He asked when the sky stayed a comfortable blue. Taichi was still looking up, mug to his mouth as he pondered his response.
“It was… beautiful,” Taichi admitted. Hayato sipped his tea in victory, another fan to the flames of his confidence. The tea was sweet, and slid down his throat pleasantly. Having let it sit for a while, the drink was much cooler than it originally had been, but he didn’t mind. Made it easier to drink, after all.
“Alright, back inside. We both gotta change and get ready for practice. And—” he fixed the boy with a stern glare. “You are going to sleep early tonight. Don’t think I forgot now.”
“I— okay, Hayato-san.”
Returning to the communal kitchen, Hayato watched in amusement as Taichi downed the rest of his tea, before ever so gently placing his mug in the sink. Hayato followed, setting his mug next to it.
“You can continue your routine, Hayato-san. Thanks for showing me the sunrise. I know how much you like your routine, so I’ll clean up here.” Taichi turned on the sink before he could argue, the sound cutting off the protest that was up his throat.
He always was more observant than I gave him credit for.
They had to do interviews with the local news station. Washijo had paired them up seemingly randomly, but Hayato had a gut feeling that the pairs were intentional. (And his gut was usually correct.)
But the pairs made sense. Wakatoshi and Satori? They balanced each other out, but Hayato wasn’t sure they’d stay on topic completely. Eita and Goshiki? This was Goshiki's first interview, pairing him with Eita was a good choice, he would support him for sure. Reon and Shirabu? Shirabu had a mouth on him, and Reon was always the most responsible out of all of them.
Himself and Taichi? Also made perfect sense.
Taichi exactly wasn’t a fan of people—not that it came to a surprise. Unlike Hayato, he wasn’t especially sociable. There were only a handful of people that Hayato’s seen him with consistently; if you were to exclude the members of the team, then he could probably count them all with one hand. Even with the team, it wasn’t as if the other boy seemed to be actively trying to make friends. How had Hayato himself managed to become part of Taichi’s circle? It made no sense, really, that someone like himself could be liked by someone like Taichi.
Thinking back again, over the past few months, the lines between them were steadily blurring. From strangers to acquaintances. From acquaintances to teammates. To unexpected friendship. To… Hayato couldn’t put a label on it. They were creeping closer and closer into a territory that Hayato’s never had any experience in—one that was unfamiliar to the both of them.
It began around the time they began to meet after practice, with conversations that didn’t revolve around volleyball. Their conversations didn’t focus on tactics or techniques, strategies or rivals. It became sharing lunch and dinner at the same table, sitting close enough to feel the others' warmth, Hayato bumping their knees together during idle talk as he became more animated.
What was surprising however, was how Taichi accepted him every time. As most things in life are, figuring people out was complicated. From what Hayato could tell, physical contact was not exactly Taichi’s forte. It was obvious in the way he shied from it, avoiding it with others unless absolutely necessary. Yet he accepted it every time.
Hayato thought he would have to wait longer for the other boy to grow more comfortable around him. He would wait, he didn’t mind. He would scatter scarce touches here and there, hints of affection, traces of his hand against his back. But he always left the final decision for Taichi himself to close the distance between them. It was always his choice to make, and Hayato wanted to make sure he respected his boundaries.
Yet he accepted, again and again.
So yeah, they made sense to pair together for the interview. Hayato didn’t mind speaking a little bit more, and he felt good knowing that Taichi saw him as a figure of support.
The interview went by quickly, with Hayato (as expected), doing the majority of the speaking. They were well on their way to wrapping out when he was a hit with a question that made him pause.
“What about the two of you together? What’s your dynamic?” The lady gave the two of them a soft smile, and Hayato thought about it.
“Never thought about it, you, Taichi?”
Taichi blinked. Very helpful dude.
“Well, you’re the libero of the team, the foundation essentially. And Kawanishi-kun is a middle blocker. You two are part of Shiratorizawa’s core defense. You ground yourself to allow him to fly, essentially,” she explained. He nodded, still processing.
“That’s very poetic of you, miss.” Taichi bowed his head slightly. “I agree with your description.”
“I do too. You uh, put it into words in a way that I couldn’t. That is how I would describe me and Taichi’s dynamic as well.” Gosh, I’m being awkward.
As the interview came to an end, Taichi’s shoulders immediately went slack once he was sure the cameras stopped running.
“And here I thought you’d be better at talking out of the two of us.”
“You can not talk you—”
It was… confusing these days.
Wherever he went, he always seemed to see Taichi. This time, he was there in the form of ice in his glass. He had just downed a whole thing of lemonade, and all that was left was the ice that didn’t melt in time.
They reminded him of Taichi, strangely enough.
Perhaps it was the way the ice lingered at the bottom. Forgotten in the general sense after their purpose to cool his drink was over. Not that Taichi was forgettable. No, forgotten isn’t the impression it gave him.
The ice reminded him of Taichi because of the lasting impression they both gave him. The ice cooled the drink down, and left him feeling refreshed. Like how in a game, it was refreshing to see which area the ball is being directed to if he reads Taichi’s blocks properly.
Or was he stretching it?
Thinking further, he did see Taichi quite a bit. The pretty flower structures beside the literature building looked like him. They cascaded around pillars, towering above all who entered, and were adorned with small red and orange flowers that he couldn’t be bothered to learn the name of. Those flowers were quiet, and you almost wouldn’t recognize they were there.
Satori told him it was stupid how he saw the colour orange and associated it with the junior, but the oranges were always so Taichi.
“So are you associating orange the fruit or orange the colour with him? Because those are two different words that could be spelt differently,” Satori asked, wagging a lollipop in his face. Where did he get an orange lollipop from? Not within his present knowledge.
“I don’t think I can even dignify you with an answer, man.”
“You’re even talking similar now! You have Chichi's attitude towards me!” Chichi?
Oh, it’s Taichi.
-
Taichi had an issue.
Hayato was everywhere. He was the autumn breeze that made the leaves dance in the air, the first sip of water to relieve a parched throat. Hayato was the sunlight shining his paper just right through the window during the summer.
Hayato was everything he wasn’t. He was the midday sun, flickering between the leaves of the trees, almost teasingly. He was the foundation and ground of the team, the reliable sun behind his back that shown brightly and guided his way. He was sociable and well liked—not that it came to a surprise. The third year's personality was endearing, alluring even. It would be an insult not to consider him so.
He’s become aware of how he’s started to become disoriented around his senior. Every time he opens his mouth around him he worries about his brain-to-mouth filter malfunctioning. He always thinks better than to vocalize his thoughts. All forbid he waxed poetic towards the third year.
When they began to spend time outside of the common ground of the gymnasium, the start of Taichi’s messy thoughts began.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the libero. No matter what he did, his brain always inconveniently supplied him with candid snapshots of memories, fragments that punctured his focus.
Hayato began to frequent Taichi's peripheral vision constantly. That keychain he saw? The sharp edges reminded him of Hayato.
Now the two of them were watching the sunset, and Taichi couldn’t help but reminisce about the moment they shared a few days prior. The way the royal blue of the night sky gradually morphed into the pinks and oranges, to yellows to blues.
Hayato reminds me of sunrises.
Was the thought he had at that moment outside. He hadn’t slept the night before, and was fully prepared to be miserable through the rest of the day, but to his (delight?) shock, he wasn’t that much so.
But Taichi was realistic. If Hayato was the sun, Taichi was whatever the opposite of that was. The moon was fitting—reflecting off his light—not that he minded.
Hayato deserved someone who could match his energy. And Taichi knew that he wasn’t the one for him.
So he stayed quiet. He set his filter straight. He didn’t want to ruin whatever this thing they had was.
He liked the way things were.
Hayato flexed his fingers, glancing back toward Taichi. The two sat on the grass hills behind the gym, this time watching the sunset together.
He knew the amount of time that they spent around each other did nothing to help his heart, but he was a weak fool. Could you blame him?
Softly, he coughed to clear his throat, mentally preparing to initiate conversation. What do I say? Something easy to answer? Grab a snack—a drink? Should I ask him if his ass hurts as much as mine sitting on the grass?
No, that’s weird, Taichi. Why would you say that?
Taichi felt something brush against his own hand. When he looked up, his mind blanked. Hayato was already looking at him, a question on his eyebrows.
“Your fingers are much longer than mine are.”
What?
“Like, yours are all long and slender and whatnot. Mine’s are a lot like, shorter. Dammit dude, why’d you have to be taller everywhere?” Hayato pouted. Taichi did not know what to say, or even what to think.
“Do you ever notice how big your hands are?” the third year wondered aloud.
“It makes good for blocking,” was all he could say in response. For blocking? Seriously? “Your hands are nice too.”
“Figured you say something like that. Can’t take a compliment now can you, eh Taichi?”
He’s always been a weak man.
How could he not when Hayato smiled enough for both of them?
Taichi’s hand laid flat on the bench between them. The other boy seemingly wasn’t paying attention to what Hayato was noticing, but Hayato knew that he wouldn’t mind. There was a slight hint of veins protruding from his wrist, and his hand almost seemed to glow. He stared at it for only a handful of seconds before making the final decision to cover it with his own.
There was only a slight flinch in response, one that Hayato wouldn’t have perceived if he wasn’t looking so intently at the other boy. He had expected it of course.
A beat.
Taichi lifted his fingers slightly above the bench, and Hayato took that as permission to curl his fingers around them. A strange thought crossed his mind, with traces of jealousy following it. Taichi has such holdable hands.
They were dry, and Hayato was worried that his own palms were sweating. His hands are much more holdable than mine.
Instead of entertaining the thoughts further, Hayato’s gaze moved up, where they were hit with Taichi’s own gaze looking towards the sunset. There was a softness behind those eyes as he watched the last dregs of pink and yellow fade into the horizon. The sky morphed into a shade of orange, and Hayato pried his own eyes off of Taichi.
A feeling of calmness slipped into every crevice and nerve in his body. The sky reminded him of Taichi.
Huh.
Did he like Taichi more than a friend?
No, he wouldn’t question his feelings at this moment. For now at least.
They had time.
And he could wait.