Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sugawara Koshi seemed to have a magnetic affinity to blue, because with the color blue came sadness, a crushing melancholy hidden by the hints of a smile. Every art class taught this, and Suga was art itself.

“I can’t say I know,” he’d said, with his sheepish shrug and smile. “But I look good in blue, don’t I?”

Daichi had found stray blue petals on his desk, in the bathroom, in subtle corners on the sofa. He had yet to discover where any of the flowers actually were, but Suga had always been so very dedicated to his projects – if his intention had been to keep them hidden, then they would most likely stay that way.

He’d wanted to move out, Suga, speaking of ideals and independence. “I’ve always wanted my own garden, you know. Wouldn’t it be nice to show the kids nature’s wonders too?”

Scared of change, scared of loss, scared of some half-hidden third thing, Daichi had asked him to stay. But Suga had only offered him a smile, the type that was both bleak and tender, his tired eyes brimming with unspoken emotion.

“We’re going to have to move on someday.”

~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know. I don’t know why they’re blue, goddamn it, I – I just want to stop, Daichi. Tell me already. Just say no. I want this all to end–”

A hacking fit of coughs echoed through the wall. The dreamscape dissolved from his vision, but Daichi couldn’t open his eyes, as if his eyelids were glued together. He reached to flick them open with his thumbs. Just barely, he could make out the ceiling above his head, blurry and distant.

Daichi sat up, blinking rapidly to no avail. He struggled out of his sheets, all too aware of the way the coughing next door had died down into a feeble wheeze. Get to him. Forget his compromised vision. Get to him right now.

Slipping, fumbling, Daichi’s fingers closed around the doorknob. He staggered through the hallway, the road suddenly too long, shrouded in its inexplicable black and night-blue, until his knee banged against Suga’s half-open door.

It creaked open, and Daichi fell forward – hands grabbed his shoulders, gently pulling him down to kneel on the soft carpeting. Lovingly Suga caressed his face, his palm warm against his cheek.

Suga’s laugh was croaky, a rattling rasp in his throat. “I was just about to come.”

Daichi dared not speak, just buried his face in the crook of Suga’s neck. With his hands he took in the comfort of his shape, the scent of his hair, the rustle of leaf and petal that dangled from his bloodied lips.

“Who is it?” Daichi whispered.

He could feel Suga shake his head, imagine his somber smile kissing a bed of flowers, grown out of the fond yet frantic love in his heart. “It wouldn’t change things if I told you. But, Daichi… why are you crying?”

Was it his nightmare? He hadn’t been aware of tears. Suga ran a thumb over his eye, and finally Daichi’s vision cleared – but then he drew back and took in the tiny cuts around Suga’s lips, the thorny stalks strewn all across the floor, the crushed blue rose blossoms clutched in one of his hands, and he almost wished he couldn’t see. The other hand was half-raised, and Suga’s thumb tip was glowing with something blue, reminiscent of a brilliant celestial light in the skies.

“Daichi,” Suga murmured. Petals fluttered out of his mouth as he spoke. “There are stars in your tears.”

His grip was tight on Daichi’s arms, almost like talons, desperate to latch onto the light. Daichi’s eyes burned still, watering as if he’d stared right into the sun, as if Suga hadn’t always been his sun, choking blue over someone he might never even know.

“Who is it?” Suga whispered.

Suddenly Daichi understood. It really wouldn’t change anything.

~~~~~~~~

Sawamura Daichi always had something blue on his person: his shirt, his shoes, his favorite backpack. It always seemed to Koshi that Daichi’s worries were so very evident, as obvious as the adorable nose on his face, yet he would never admit to them.

“Don’t you worry,” he’d said, with his reassuring glance and grin. “I’ll take care of everything.”

How was Koshi supposed to believe that, with the streams of helpless stars that had run down Daichi’s face? Agitatedly he stirred his cup of tea. Daichi was going to kill him before his death by flower.

As if on cue, Daichi emerged from the bathroom, mouth stretched wide in a huge yawn. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’m alright. You have a day off today too, right?” Hesitantly Koshi gestured to his eyes. Daichi just nodded, a smile playing on his lips.

“I do.” Daichi peered at what was laid out on the coffee table. Stacked in front of Koshi was a scattered pile of messy drawings, each depicting something near illegible. “Grading homework?”

Koshi lifted up a crude drawing of a police officer. “They’re all so cute. See this one? Looks exactly like you.”

Daichi leaned down to see, his chest brushing against Koshi’s shoulder. He narrowed his eyes. “I do not see the resemblance.”

“Good,” Koshi answered. “Be blinded by the wonders of childhood.”

Daichi stood up, sharply, yet somehow he also seemed distracted. Koshi felt a stab of guilt – blindness was the least sensitive thing he could have possibly brought up. He watched as Daichi wandered over to the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk.

“Can we talk, Suga?” he asked softly.

Koshi set down his pen, the clatter all too loud amidst the momentary silence. Daichi ripped open the carton. It was a very unnerving sound. He walked back over, absently taking a sip, and Koshi shifted to make room on the sofa. Daichi’s fingers brushed against his, the touch electric, icy from holding his drink.

Daichi unlocked his phone and scrolled through something. “Do you still want to move out, Suga?”

“Well, I haven’t given up on the garden idea and everything.” Koshi studied his expression. It was hard to garner much from this angle, yet Daichi’s glimmering eyes reminded him all too well of the previous night, of the roses and the starlight, and an unpleasant shiver ran down his spine.

Daichi turned his screen for Koshi to see. It was a list of housing areas – rural towns, flats with balconies. All of them had good reviews and were relatively affordable. Not one was over half an hour away from the kindergarten Koshi taught at.

“If you want to leave–” Audibly Daichi sucked in a breath. “If you still want to go elsewhere, I helped you look for some places. I’ve made sure they’re all at least decent, and I know you like window views, so I paid attention to those…”

He trailed off, his gaze darting up to Koshi. A thin trail of starlight trickled from the corner of Daichi’s eye, and no amount of his rapid blinking could contain or conceal it now.

“Why?” Koshi whispered. “Do you really want me gone so badly?”

Daichi rubbed his eyes. “Of course not.”

“Then why?” Koshi demanded. Something writhed to violent life within his chest, prodding at his ribcage, destined for inevitable release. “Daichi, I – is this because of your condition? Your feelings?” His throat constricted, and Koshi gasped, fighting for air – but was there any point in fighting for someone who would do nothing?

Daichi seemed lost for words, yet his touch was warm, comforting, as he took Koshi’s face in his hands. His eyes were the very cosmos, and if fate had allowed Koshi would have taken the time to map out every constellation, connecting each dot and line, bridging the stars to each other until their hearts beat as one.

“Suga,” he said, “can I confess something I’ll never get to take back?”

Of course he could. Koshi housed within himself a monstrous garden, and Sawamura Daichi would forever water its blossoms.

“We’ve known each other for a while now. Ever since Karasuno we’ve always worked well together – at school, during volleyball – and please, believe me when I say, I really don’t know what I would do without you anymore. The thing is, Suga, well… I think you deserve the world, and I just can’t give you that – hell, I’m a police officer. Sometimes I don’t even know if I can protect myself. And… I don’t want you to worry, you know?”

You fool, Koshi wanted to scream, you ridiculous, unnecessary fool. Every day he struggled to breathe, braved his way through the brambles, all for this idiot who had forgotten how to put up a fight. “Weren’t you supposed to be a reliable captain, Daichi?”

“I’m not a volleyball captain anymore.”

“That doesn’t change anything. You’re a literal police officer now. You still look out for and after people every day, and then forget yourself in the process.”

Daichi eyed him. “What makes you say that?”

Koshi opened his mouth, and a mass of blue petals erupted from his throat. Thorns tore their way past his lips, and the splattering of liquid spoke of blood. All he could pronounce was an incoherent wheeze. Air, he needed air, or something to soothe the pain, if only to live another day, deep in love and drowned in light.

He was aware of reaching fingers, and a gentle stroke along his jaw. Delicately Daichi extracted a stalk from Koshi’s throat, rough against his tongue as it passed. “Cough it out,” Daichi instructed, and Koshi obliged. Flecks of indigo scattered themselves all over the table.

“Water?” Daichi suggested.

Koshi shook his head. Very few things would be able to push down the force welling up within him. Daichi looked hesitant, but he relented.

They were quiet for a few minutes. Daichi fetched a small desk broom and a damp towel to clean up all the blood and flowers.

“Daichi,” Koshi said at last, when he trusted himself to speak, “do you really want me to leave?”

“I’ve been in love with you for four years,” Daichi replied.

It was so abrupt, so arbitrary, as if the stakes were sky-high yet nothing mattered at all. Koshi could only stare at him open-mouthed, struggling to process, unable to think.

With a small sigh Daichi leaned back against the sofa. “I was going to have to tell you sooner or later. I don’t intend to give up on my job, but I can’t keep it if I lose my eyesight.” 

Something stirred within Koshi just then, a subtle shift that he knew had to be the shriveling death of the rose. Just like that. All they had to do was say something.

“Do you ever consider that I’m just as willing to make things work as you do?” he snapped. “You’re going to just give up on me because you think I’m fragile or something? You’re not actually Daichi, are you? It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Daichi’s eyes widened with surprise. “What do you–”

“I can’t believe you would genuinely ever think I would choke flowers for anyone else.”

“You never told me–”

“I wanted YOU to tell ME something for once!” Koshi seethed.

Daichi’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Is this really happening?” He tilted Koshi’s chin up with a hand. His eyes shone, no longer with broken stars but with a newfound fervor that looked to the prospect of tomorrow. His mouth moved as if he wanted to say more – but maybe it was just that his lips were trembling, with nerves, or fear, or just pure emotion, whatever it may be.

It had happened just like that, in such a random, mundane manner; it was just the way they liked it, and just the way they were. In the span of seconds they had dissolved everything.

“You’re an idiot,” Daichi said, after a long, long pause.

“You–” Everything spilled over at once. Koshi grabbed the front of Daichi’s  shirt and pulled him in. They were clumsy with it, noses bumping, teeth against teeth; but Daichi was gentle, taking his time to explore – and he smelled pleasant, and tasted fantastic, and…

He lost track from there. All he could think of, even when Daichi finally pulled away, was that now he finally knew the sweetness of stars.

Daichi murmured beside Koshi’s ear, soft breath tickling his skin. “Let’s move out soon. Let’s get your garden.”

Koshi nodded against his chest. “You promise you’ll actually come with me, right?”

“Of course, Suga. As long as you want me to.”

There was always something about the way Daichi said his name – Suga, Suga – that was so comforting and familiar, as if he had never gone a day without all of this. The only difference was that, hopefully, the next flowers Sugawara Koshi received would be red.