Chapter Text
Nagachika Hideyoshi regarded himself as a morning person. He woke up to the morning radio, stretching and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stepped out of bed and sang in the shower—his neighbors complained he was out of tune, but they just didn’t get his unique talent for passionately singing hits from old boy bands before 6AM. After getting dressed, he sat down on the kitchen and stuffed his mouth with cereal while watching some morning talk show he had gotten strangely addicted to over the months. After that, he grabbed his jacket, his backpack, and his headphones and headed out, ready to face another wonderful day.
Nagachika Hideyoshi—or as he preferred to be called, Hide—skipped while walking, humming to the tune blasting through his headphones. He was the type of person that stopped to pet a dog and pick up a piece of garbage to throw it into the trashcan. He had set a morning routine just so he could break it. He would stop and stare at a particularly funny shaped cloud or at a plant that had managed to grow on the hard concrete. He would help a random stranger that had fallen onto the ground, pick their scattered files off the floor and then go off to flirt with the pretty clerk at the bakery around the corner.
Hide took different routes to go to class every day. And when he got out of class to go to work, he did the same thing. He walked through different paths, taking the crowded streets or the quiet alleys.
Hide tried his best to make every single day an adventure, something really special. He loved getting home exhausted and going to sleep with a dopey smile, because man, isn’t life great.
That day was another one of those special days. He had gotten yelled at by his neighbors for his awesome shower performance, run out of cereal and been forced to eat soggy toast, and had to put some children’s show on the TV instead of his usual channel. These little irregularities made him feel like the day would be extra special, so he hummed cheerfully as he stepped out of his home.
He skipped happily as he took yet another different route, going through one of the many alleyways in the city of Tokyo. It had been a while since he’d taken this path, so he excitedly ventured into a narrow alley, looking at his surroundings with wide, curious eyes.
The alleyway had nothing particular about it—it was just one out of many similar ones, and just as Hide started losing interest and picked up his pace, his eyes locked on the wall to his left.
A quiet gasp escaped from the blonde’s lips as he stepped closer to the wall. He leaned in to examine the painted surface and traced his fingers over it. It wasn’t the first time graffiti had caught his attention, but this one had something special to it that he couldn’t really decipher.
The lines were thick and outlined by something that seemed like a marker, making them seem smoother and more defined. The graffiti showed a hunched figure of a young boy, sitting on a chair by an empty table with a book on his hands. The colors were all soft blues and obsidian blacks, and they gave the graffiti a quiet and relaxed aura. Hide could feel something else though, like a small tinge of loneliness coming from the composition. He traced his fingers over it again, the corners of his lips turning down in a worried frown.
He tried to decipher the sudden tightness in his chest as something else than empathy, because really, what was there to be empathetic about? He was cheerfully practicing his daily routine-breaking routine just a moment ago, but just seeing the graffiti knocked the breath out of him. It wasn’t especially amazingly drawn, but somehow Hide felt like the artist behind it possessed an incredible amount skill and still decided to portray it with simplicity. It focused more on the colors and the composition to give it a certain vibe that made Hide feel like he was experiencing the same emotions the artist felt while drawing it.
The blonde inhaled deeply and stepped away from the wall, walking away and heading to work without a skip on his step.
He spaced out completely as he made his way to Kamii University, absentmindedly dragging his feet. What was so special about the graffiti anyway? It was just a bunch of colored lines smushed together in a wall. How did the artist get to make him feel such a confusing turmoil of emotions with just that? What were they trying to express by that? Were they even trying to express that loneliness, or had it just been accidental due to how they were feeling while drawing it? Were they okay? Did they have someone to support them while they were feeling bad?
Hide felt a sharp pain on his forehead and stepped back, rubbing it and grimacing at the light post that had dared to cross his path. How dare it knock against him. Rude.
“Nagachika,” a monotone voice called.
Hide turned around, still glaring and rubbing his face. He pouted at his upperclassman.
“Good morning, Nishio-shan,” he wheezed tiredly.
“What the fuck are you doing,” Nishio deadpanned, sipping his coffee and adjusting the strap of his messenger bag so it didn’t tangle with his scarf.
“I’m about to show this light post the wrath of a thousand suns,” the blonde stated. He tilted his head before adding, “By the way, you look like such a hipster today that I have to ask if the glasses are fake.”
His upperclassman gave him a blank look, sipped his cup of coffee again, and silently turned around to walk away.
Well, what can you do. Hide was used to Nishio’s cold—and frankly rude—attitude towards him, and he didn’t mind how difficult to deal with the bespectacled man was. He could say that over the months, he had established some sort of companionship with him, or something like that. He didn’t really know, but the fact that Nishio somewhat put up with him was proof that there was some sort of bond there.
The blonde sighed and looked around, wondering when he had gotten to the campus. Walking on autopilot wasn’t really his thing, so he felt confused and disoriented.
He groaned quietly and made his way to his first class, kicking a pebble.
What the hell.
Hide sighed in relief when he heard the bell announcing the end of his last class of the day. He idly packed his stuff, haphazardly throwing his notes and writing supplies into his bag, not caring about getting them wrinkled. He stood up, heading for the exit.
The day had been tiring as hell, and it wasn't even over yet. He had spent most of his classes zoning out and thinking about the person behind the graffiti he'd seen. One thing would be thinking about the graffiti itself, that would be understandable, but why was his mind drifting off and making him concerned about someone he knew absolutely nothing about? Was there even something to be concerned about? What did he even know?
Hide was a really perceptive guy. He had always been. He’d had a very sharp intuition since he was a child, especially regarding other people's feelings. He could tell someone's mood by only a glance, and he could notice immediately when someone was lying. He could figure out someone's habits, quirks, and body language by observing them for only a few minutes.
Hide was indeed one of the sharpest tools in the box. If he wasn't he would probably think Nishio hated him for real, but he knew better than that. Observing people was his forte, and that's why he loved meeting new friends. It gave him a chance to investigate a completely different person and get to know every aspect of their personality.
Hide was really intuitive. But that didn't mean he could really see so much about a person through some graffiti. It didn't happen much, but he was certainly wrong this time. So why was he fretting over it?
The blonde shook his head and strolled down the stairs. He needed to head to work now, and he couldn’t be late. He also needed to concentrate, because even though he was only an errand boy he was absolutely terrified of what Akira might do to him if he slacked off.
So Hide willed himself to forget about the mysterious person behind the graffiti for the rest of the day. He was pretty good at keeping his emotions in check and controlling them after all.
The dark-haired boy pulled his black hood farther down so it would shield his face even more. He walked dragging his feet, his shoulders hunched, trying to make himself as little as possible.
It wasn’t like his fear of being seen was rational at all, since it was 2AM and the streets were pretty empty, especially near the alleyway he was heading to. But he was still afraid, —constantly afraid of being found out and yelled at again and afraid of another lecture that made him feel like nothing.
He tip-toed around the streets of Tokyo, venturing further into them until he found the alley. He set his bag down and pulled out his spray cans. He shook the can of purple paint in his hand a few times, staring up at what he had painted the previous night. He inhaled deeply before straightening his spine and getting to work, all traces of fear forgotten and replaced with the need to capture the swirl of emotions bubbling inside of him on the wall.
He carefully brought the nozzle up to the wall and pressed slightly, the comforting smell of spray paint filling his nostrils.
Hide inhaled deeply as he scrubbed his hair, preparing for the next line, the decisive one, his time to shine.
“Neaaaaaaaaaar,” he sang, absolutely and completely in tune, “faaaaaaaaaaar, whereeeeeeeeever—” The blonde stopped to cough after his voice cracked, but he wasn’t a man that gave up easily. “You aaaaaaaaareee. I believe—”
He was cut off by insistent knocking on the wall and muffled screams telling him to shut up (“It’s too early for tone-deaf people to be singing this loudly!”). Rude.
“You guys don’t understand true art!” Hide yelled back, turning off the shower head and wrapping a towel around his waist, heading to his room to get dressed. He kept humming the same song as he wriggled into his underwear, spinning dramatically and touching his chest as he preached to the heavens that his heart would go on and on.
The blonde faithfully went through his morning routine, eating fruit instead of cereal and not turning on the TV at all. He put on his jacket, hung his headphones around his neck, and took off, skipping as usual.
He hummed as he walked confidently, looking around with a cheerful smile. He passed a coffee shop, and he greeted the pretty lady with the long black hair as she swept the front of the store, earning a confused stare and a gentle nod of acknowledgement.
Hide’s step came to a halt when he neared the path he had taken the previous day. He pondered his options for a second. He could choose another way to go to Kamii and wonder about the graffiti the whole day, or he could try to go through the same path and deal with however looking at the artwork again would affect him.
The blonde shrugged internally, heading towards that alleyway. Curiosity had gotten to the best of him, and it wasn’t that surprising. Hide didn’t even know what he was expecting to see, since it was probably just the same thing as the previous day, but he still felt the need to check again.
He walked slower, not really knowing how to describe how he was feeling. The mix of curiosity, wonder, and wariness left him confused. It wasn’t like his good mood had dropped per se, but the graffiti had somehow managed to affect him in a way he still couldn’t decipher.
Hide idly dragged his hand across the wall, getting closer to his destination. He stopped just before turning the corner, took a deep breath and two steps forward, turning around to face the wall that had rocked his day.
The boy inhaled sharply and immediately leant forward to study the graffiti closely. They had continued it. The artist had continued the graffiti.
Hide suppressed an excited giggle as he took a step back to admire the whole thing. The figure of the boy was still there, but now a pretty lady with long purple hair was sitting in front of him with another book on her hands. The artist had painted over the previous drawing with what seemed like a marker, making the boy’s eyes look up at the lady and his lips quirk up into a soft smile. There was also spray painting covering the dull tones that were there before, the composition full of pastel purples and bright whites combining with the blues and blacks. The graffiti had a much lighter tone as a whole, radiating soft optimism and content happiness.
Hide smiled in awe, admiring the work. One of the reasons why the artist had drawn with simplicity the first time was so they could add more details the next day. The blonde was amazed at how much the vibe of the graffiti had changed overnight, and he let out a tiny chuckle. He felt so unbelievably relieved that the person behind the drawing seemed in higher spirits. Then again, he’d probably been wrong when he assumed that the artist drew based on their current mood, but he couldn’t help but feel even happier than before.
He reached into his bag and pulled out his sticky notes and a pen, writing down a few words and sticking the note onto the wall, just next to the drawing. He giggled, took out his phone and took a picture of the wall, turning around and skipping towards his university.
That might have been a stupid idea, but really, what was there to lose?
The dark-haired boy nearly jogged towards the alleyway, keeping his eyes wide open but his head ducked. He wanted the tears to stop, but he didn’t want to be seen by anyone, even if the streets were almost deserted.
He had no reason to cry. He didn’t want to shed tears for a family that didn’t even love him, that didn’t even accept him as their family, and that didn’t even acknowledge his existence if it wasn’t to yell at him.
He shook his head and slowed down, breathlessly panting. He really needed to work out more.
The young male walked towards his destination, dragging his feet the rest of the way. At least the tears seemed to be stopping, but now he felt tired and still a little out of breath. The tight feeling in his chest wouldn’t go away, but he knew the way to make it disappear. As soon as he got to painting he would forget everything and channel his frustrations, and then he would be good, —then he would be fine. Until he crumbled down again.
But that wasn’t something he wanted to think about at the moment.
He arrived at the alley and set down his bag, taking out his painting supplies. He started shaking one of the cans, ready to start working. He positioned the nozzle right where he wanted to start painting, but he caught himself before starting to do so. He put down the spray can and looked curiously at the sticky note on the wall. He couldn’t read the messy handwriting very well, so he took out the flashlight he kept in his bag. He clicked it open and pointed the bright light at the wall, squinting to read the words.
hey! i love your graffiti, your style is so cool and special and stuff~ i love how you continued it and changed the whole vibe it was awesome! r u gonna continue it more? bec i would love to see more of it, it would deffo brighten my mornings ( ﾟ∀ﾟ)ﾉﾞ
The dark-haired boy blinked repeatedly and reread the note. Was that meant for him? Was it a joke? It seemed like a joke…
He looked at the wall, and then all around the alleyway, lighting the place with his flashlight. His gaze dropped to the note again. It had to be meant for him. It had been placed just next to his graffiti, and it was the only one in the alley. He pursed his lips and reread it again.
That was definitely a joke. For sure. Who would even like what he had drawn? It was really crappy.
The boy reread it once more and had to bite his lip to contain a smile. No. No. He couldn’t let himself hope that it wasn’t a bad prank.
But just who the hell was this person? Their handwriting was so messy and rushed, like they had been too excited to write patiently. And they wrote an emoticon. They actually wrote down a phone emoticon on paper. That had to be a joke. Who even does that?
What if it wasn’t a joke though? What if that person had actually enjoyed his graffiti? What if they actually looked forward to seeing its continuation the next day? What if he had actually made someone’s day better?
He really knew better than to just trust those rushed words written down on the tiny note. He shouldn’t trust it. He should crumple it and throw it away, continuing his thing. But what if they were true? What if he allowed himself to trust at least this once?
He giggled and covered his mouth, unable to fight back his smile anymore. He reread the note once more before folding it and keeping it in the pocket of his hoodie. He bent down to pick up his spray can again and got to work with a smile for the first time in what seemed like forever.