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- And they’re so stupid and naive and they think they know it all. Nishinoya is working a full time job. He’s saving it all, holding onto the dream of becoming a music producer and making it big in Tokyo. He lays in bed at night but he doesn’t sleep and his co-workers ask why he always has bags under his eyes.
And Asahi thinks he has it all together. He thinks he’ll make it, once he finishes school he’ll be happy. When he gets a call back for his internship he’ll be happy, when he meets the right one he’ll be happy. He has a beautiful girlfriend, what’s supposed to be a good life but it’s never felt right. He’s about to graduate, he doesn’t know what to do and it’s suffocating. In his head he screams and begs for an escape and despite how much he prays, no god answers.
And they’re so broken, but they don’t know it yet. Asahi looks at Nishinoya and thinks, damn, he’s got it all together and I’m so far behind.
Nishinoya looks at Asahi and wishes he could press a kiss onto his chapped lips.
- Nishinoya will forever be the one that dropped out senior year.
And Asahi broke down and broke up with his girlfriend prom night and he crashed at Nishinoya’s house, still living with his parents. They shared the bed and Nishinoya held him close as he cried in his suit. Through his tears he sobbed out how he didn’t know what he’d do without him. He changes out of his suit into Nishinoya’s oversized clothes and stares at the ceiling, hand on Nishinoya’s rising and falling chest he wonders why.
When he wakes the next day Nishinoya is long gone to work, a cup of coffee just how Asahi likes it sits on the counter. Asahi sits on the bed and drinks it, going through the long line of texts from his girlfriend- no, ex girlfriend he can feel that tight feeling in his chest return. This time Nishinoya isn’t there to hold him. When he leaves he washes the mug and leaves a note on the desk.
‘Thank you. So much, I’m sorry you had to see me like that. You deserve better.’
When Nishinoya gets back home he reads the note and sighs before he can feel himself start to choke up and soon he’s crying on the shower floor for no good reason.
- Asahi goes to college in America and they try to stay close and keep going but they can both feel the universe falling apart and all too soon the phone calls stop and the texts slow and they find lives outside of their friendship and maybe, just maybe, they both think of each other late at night and curse themselves for not being better friends.
And Nishinoya finally moves out of Miyagi and into Tokyo, he has to rent a micro apartment, and struggles to make ends meet. Yeah it fucking sucks but maybe after a few years he’ll be happy.
And Asahi wonders why he isn’t happy yet. He got into his dream school and he’s living the life he’s always wanted and but why why why, can’t he feel okay for even a day or two. He finds himself missing his old, miserable life in Japan.
- Asahi starts drinking. He comes back home after finishing his degree early and Miyagi feels empty and lonely without anyone to keep him company. His mother tries to set him up with girls with only good intentions, but he hates the idea of being in a relationship with any of them. He hates the idea of falling out of love for the millionth time and there’s something wrong with him, isn’t there?
Getting blackout drunk becomes a weekly habit.
Nishinoya can feel his dreams slowly start to slip away. Tanaka tries to get him a job in the music industry but no one seems to call back and with every day that goes by he starts to crack. His 6 to 8 shifts at the convenience store are too long and boring and with each day he thinks damn. There’s really nothing for me here. His evening job as a bartender goes by in a flash and so many people entertain the idea of loving him but deep down he knows they never can.
They haven’t talked to each other in a full year, and maybe, they both think, it’s for the better. Life has its reasons for everything, right?
Why? Why can’t it be easy?
- And Asahi is stuck. From Miyagi to Osaka to Tokyo, trying to settle and stop moving. An office job at 9 to 5 and that deep down, gut wrenching feeling in his chest never seems to go away no matter how much he drinks at the end of the day. He starts smoking, lungs starting to fill with tar but he can’t find it in himself to give a damn. His friends keep trying to set him up with girls who he wishes could be perfect for him. No matter how many dates he goes on or one night stands he has, he always wakes up with that same feeling of regret.
And Nishinoya moved from bartender to exotic dancer and at nights he can feel the tears run down his face. His chest feels empty and his feelings dulled, going through it all in a daze. He’s making almost two grand a night, he should feel okay, right? He moved into a bigger apartment and came out. He had a loving boyfriend who supported and loved him through it all and as much as he chases happiness it’s always just outside of reach. With each night he dreads getting old, dreads this feeling of living the rest of his life like this. After a few months he breaks up with his boyfriend. He never loved him in the first place, is that bad to say?
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday Asahi, Happy birthday to you!” His co-workers cheer and he musters up a smile, turning around in his chair and he’s greeted by tacky party hats and smiles so wide he thinks their faces will rip in half. Sugawara is holding a small platter of cupcakes with candles reading ‘Happy 27th!’
Fuck.
“Thank you guys!” He manages to say and blows out the candles, setting the cupcakes on his desk and hands them out. “It means a lot! I thought everyone had forgotten.” Deep down he wished everyone would forget. Was that bad of him? Hating his own birthday? No, fuck that. He can hate whatever he wants.
After a few minutes the festivity dies down and he can go back to work. He looks at the clock. 4:27 pm
- He can feel himself start to choke up but he shoves the feeling down. He finishes work early and clocks out, and on his way home he starts to cry. It’s not the first time he’s thought about driving into the opposite side of traffic but this time it’s so strong. He nudges the wheel slightly but turns it back, shaking his head and desperately trying to remove the thought from his mind.
When he gets home he opens the wine closet and brings out his hardest liquor. For a split second he looks at the bottles and questions the sanity of what he’s about to do. He opens the vodka, holds it to his mouth. Slowly tips it back. He slams it onto the counter before it can even touch his lips, the bottle shatters and the glass goes everywhere but he can’t find it in himself to care.
The overwhelming urge to get out of his house and away from his apartment, away from work and responsibility. What was the name of that club Sugawara was always whispering about? Habit. Right. That’s what it’s called.
He leaves the apartment and gets into his car, punches ‘habit club’ into naver maps and drives over an hour to get there. It goes by in a flash and all of a sudden it’s 7 pm and he’s climbing three stories worth of stairs to reach the entrance. The building is modern, the floor to ceiling windows made of two way mirrors, but the entrance is illuminated by only a red, flickering lightbulb. Through the small window at the top he can see magenta and cyan lights flashing inside.
The knocks three times, then twice, like Sugawara seemed to tell every male staff except for Asahi. The door opens and the bouncer looks him up and down and then moves out of the way to let him in.
The first thing he notices is how loud the music is, he didn’t hear it from outside the door but now it’s deafening. Next is the smell, artificial cherry, vanilla and cigar smoke. Then his mind processes what he’s seeing. In front of the windows are strippers, poles lined up, all of them dancing different but they’re on beat to the music and Asahi thinks he might faint, because if he’s seeing right, those are male strippers, and most of the occupants seem to be old, greyed men with deep pockets.
He instantly feels out of place and he sticks his hands in his pockets in an attempt to act natural. His feet move without him willing them to, walking toward the poles and he sits down on one of the black leather couches.
He’s captivated, to put it simply. His eyes scan the row before focusing on one. He’s short, pale and thin, wearing a white leather corset and matching booty shorts. His platform shoes have to be at least five inches, but even from 7 feet away Asahi knows he’d tower over him. The way he moves is experienced and elegant, he’s strong and flexible and he smiles to himself each time he pulls off a difficult move. Before he knows it the dancer is done with his routine and gets down off the platform, one of the staff hands him a water bottle and a towel while another dancer replaces him.
And again, his feet move without him willing them to and he follows the dancer, coming up behind him and he taps him on the shoulder.
He turns around.
In less than a second his Asahi’s world comes crashing down.
It’s Nishinoya.
Oh.
They stare at each other for a few moments, jaws dropped and neither knowing what to say.
Nishinoya grabs Asahi’s wrist and leads him behind the dancers and down a wide hallway with doors on both sides. Deep down Asahi knows what is behind those doors, but he doesn’t want to think of Nishinoya in that sense.
Nishinoya opens one of the doors and gestures for Asahi to enter and closes it behind him.
Nishinoya is the first to speak.
“What the fuck are you doing here? How did you find about my job? Who told you?” He paces around the room, running his hand through his hair over and over, a nervous habit.
Nishinoya pauses his pacing and looks Asahi in the eye.
“You’re gay?”
Asahi can feel internal panic start to rise in his chest, eyes wide, a deer caught in headlights. Is he? Would that explain the years of turmoil?
“I-I don’t know, fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing here, I don’t know how I got here, I’m sorry, I’ll leave.” He turns to open the door but Nishinoya takes hold of his arm and pulls him back.
“I haven’t seen you in what, eight years? Why now?” Nishinoya says.
“I had no clue you worked here, a coworker of mine was talking about it and I needed away from my apartment, just, please, let me go,” he tugs his arm free of Nishinoya’s grasp.
“No, Asahi, please don’t go.” His voice is pleading and it makes Asahi turn around, still avoiding contact, his eyes glued to the floor and hand on the doorknob.
They pause, neither knowing what to do, or how to make it better.
Nishinoya pulls Asahi in for a hug, arms wrapped around him tightly, not wanting to let go. Asahi can feel tears start to well in his eyes as he holds Nishinoya closer.
“I’m so, so sorry Noya. I should’ve been there.” Asahi chokes out, tears flowing down his cheeks.
“It’s as much as my fault as it is yours. Don’t say you’re sorry. You always apologize too much.” Nishinoya says into Asahi’s chest, so quiet Asahi can barely hear it.
“Nishinoya?” Asahi says, rolling over in bed.
The clock reads 4 am.
“Yeah?”
“I think I’m in love with you.”
“I think I’m in love with you too.”
“Now what?”
“I don’t know.”
And that’s okay.