Chapter Text
Yamaguchi Tadashi isn’t sure when going to Onigiri Miya becomes a part of his daily routine, but he can vaguely relate it to a few months after Osamu finally opened up his Sendai branch.
He thinks his obsession must have begun before that however, when he took the first bite of the salmon onigiri at the Adlers Jackals match. He can still remember the flavor bursting in his mouth. It was a simple combination: rice, seaweed, salmon with some spicy mayo. But the rice was fluffier and moister than Tadashi could have imagined, and the spicy mayo had just a little bit of a kick to it. That combined with the freshest salmon which seemed to be just subtly seasoned, and Tadashi was instantly hooked. In the loud gymnasium where the excitement was palpable, cheering Hinata’s debut in Japan next to the steadfast presence of Tsukishima, the onigiri was simply the cherry on top of the day that Tadashi would never forget for the rest of his life.
After the Adlers Jackals match, Tadashi had buzzed with the adrenaline of the game. Seeing old friends, watching current friends giving it their all, reliving the days where they played together, knowing now they had moved forward to do even more amazing things filled Tadashi with spirit. He was in his last year of college, job already secured. Great things were ahead of him too, as long as he put his mind to it. The high of that single game kept him going for months.
Then finally, when whatever drive was pushing Tadashi forward from that game seemed like it beginning to wear off, Osamu Miya decided to open the Sendai branch of Onigri Miya.
Tadashi hadn’t really kept track of Onigiri Miya since the game in Sendai. He and Miya Osamu had been acquaintances at best and that was even a stretch. They had shared a court together and Osamu had remembered him, but Tadashi wouldn’t really say they had actually played together. Osamu had been in a different league. Even when they’d stood on the court against each other for longer than a play Tadashi’s second year, his talent and skill far exceeded what Tadashi thought he could ever reach. Tadashi was honored enough that he had remembered him. But that would be the end of it. There was no reason for them to bump into each other again.
But it’s a cool day in November, and Tadashi’s running late. He’d finished a particularly complex project right at the deadline and had managed 2 hours of sleep and two snoozes before his blaring alarm told him to get the fuck up and get to class. He hadn’t had time to make breakfast; he had barely had time to brush his teeth and put on clothes before he had to be out the door. As he’d walks towards the train station, he curses his bad luck. Of course, for some reason his boss had needed to call him in on one of his off days. Of course, Tadashi couldn’t have said no.
Well, technically, this entire string of events had been the result of Tadashi’s hubris. What had Tadashi been thinking, believing he could balance an internship at his eventual job with his third year of college? He was joining the company anyway for fuck sakes, Tadashi didn’t need to bust his chops and go the extra mile. But Tadashi had been eager to work and more than motivated after the volleyball match and he’d eagerly applied for another internship with his company.
Tadashi blames Hinata more than anything for this, for showing Tadashi that he could always be capable of more.
He’s about three steps away from the train station, ruminating about how he was going to make it through the day in one piece when a familiar sign had caught his eye.
He’d heard tangentially that Miya Osamu had decided to open a Sendai branch through Hinata, but Tadashi hadn’t known it would be so close to his apartment. His stomach rumbles. Tadashi didn’t usually eat breakfast, but he hadn’t managed to find time to eat anything but a small dinner the night before and just the sight of Onigiri Miya brings forth the ghost of the taste of the fresh salmon, a waft of the fragrant rice, cresting through his nose. With one glance of his watch to check the time, he lets his feet lead him to the store.
The inside is small, clean and well lit. With a few wooden tables for customers and a counter displaying all of the onigiri for sale, it’s quiet, homely. Tadashi’s glad he’s late. He thinks he likely managed to miss the breakfast rush and there’s still plenty of onigiri for sale. As he steps forward to the counter, eyes already fixed on the onigiri in the window, it’s movement that causes his eyes to slide over to the figure emerging from the back.
“Ah, Yamaguchi wasn’t it? I met ya at the Adlers Jackals game.”
Tadashi’s not sure why he’s so surprised to see Osamu. He owned the Onigiri Miya, why wouldn’t he be at the new branch? Perhaps Tadashi had assumed he’d simply hire workers to start the Sendai branch, split up the division of labor so the journey between multiple locations wasn’t so arduous.
But when Tadashi thinks back to it, he’d been able to taste how carefully and lovingly Osamu’s onigiri had been made. Each bite was chalk full of Osamu’s blood, sweat and tears, all of his effort to choose the freshest ingredients, to prepare the most loving combination of fillings. Perhaps one day Osamu would let workers run the Sendai branch, but not at the beginning.
“Yeah, nice to see you again. I heard something about you opening up your Sendai branch.” Tadashi smiles, eyes drifting back to the onigiri. “I’ll take a spicy salmon and..” a brief pause.
“I’d recommend the shrimp tempura.” Osamu, seemly sensing Tadashi’s indecisiveness interjects. Crossing his arms, he throws Tadashi a smile. “Seems like you’re runnin’ late, I think you’ll find that’ll give ya the boost ya need to start the day.”
Tadashi can’t help the sheepish grin that spreads over his lips. Osamu had read him like a book. “I’ll take your word for it.” He fishes out his credit card, placing it in front of the register until he hears a chirp. “Last time I had your onigiri I felt energetic for weeks. Though that might have been because of the volleyball game too.”
Osamu chuckles, carefully placing two nearly wrapped onigiri in Tadashi’s hands. “Ya flatter me. One can only hope it still has that effect.”
Osamu doesn’t need to hope.
Because one bite into the onigiri on the train and the flavor that floods into Tadashi’s mouth brings back all the emotions of the Jackels Adlers game. Suddenly, the day ahead of him doesn’t seem nearly as bad as Tadashi had initially thought.
Ah, he thought between quick bites of his onigiri, I’ll have to go back.
--
Miya Osamu isn’t sure when seeing Yamaguchi Tadashi becomes part of his daily routine. He’d been waffling about the Sendai shop for quite a while before Atsumu had finally convinced him to pull the trigger and after Osamu had finally pulled the trigger, he’d almost instantly regretted it. Setting up a new branch had been exhausting. From renting the space that would make up his shop to making the trip to Sendai to get things set up, the entire process had given Osamu a throbbing headache. The soft launch had been a great success, proof of his efforts, and Osamu already had a solid customer base, but he really hadn’t been sure how he was going to manage running three shops by himself. Osamu could certainly hire workers but well, Onigiri Miya was his baby. Leaving it alone just made him nervous. Each onigiri he sculpted with care, using nothing but the freshest ingredients, the most complex flavor profiles. He loved cooking, he loved serving customers, leaving the branch to someone else to completely run just felt like it cheapened the work.
Not that it seemed to have made a difference to his customers anyways.
Osamu understands what moving into a new location was like. He had experienced it when he’d first opened the Tokyo branch. A new shop opening in a new location meant that he essentially catered to strangers, workers who had heard of Onigiri Miya, but who didn’t really have the time to get to know him, too caught up in the hustle and bustle that they barely had time to cease their journeys to grab a bite to eat. The morning rush had proved fruitful as had the soft launch a few days prior, but even with the influx of customers Osamu was left with a rather bitter taste in his mouth. It was difficult, cooking for a customer base that didn’t seem to wholly enjoy or savor his food. It was thankless work, and while Osamu knows down the line he’d have to keep expanding, keep moving to new locations, to keep growing, part of him is inclined to not want to go through this again. The Tokyo branch had been exhausting enough, and now the same old feelings that he’d had when he’d first opened that branch were back to haunt him.
It's right when he’s ruminating on if this was truly the right decision or not that the chime of a bell signals another customer, and Osamu appears from the back to come face to face with Yamaguchi Tadashi. Dressed in a clean white dress shirt and pants, backpack slung around his shoulder, his quick pace and windswept forest green hair certainly made it look like he was in a rush. But, though Yamaguchi seemed to be in a rush, he feels entirely different than the stampede of businessmen who’d graced his shop about thirty minutes earlier. Tadashi slows down to take a look at his surroundings, pausing as eyes rake over each and every onigiri carefully labelled on the counter. He pauses to make small talk with Osamu, mouth curving into a friendly smile as they chit chat.
Osamu doesn’t really know if Yamaguchi’s all that different from his earlier customers, but he was at least a familiar face.
But that’s really all Yamaguchi is. Osamu had known him for his nasty jump float in high school and as Kageyama Tobio and Hinata Shoyo’s teammate but that had been the extent of it. Their paths had never crossed until the Jackals Adlers game and after that brief encounter, they’d never crossed paths again. But Yamaguchi had enjoyed his onigiri, there was an eager gleam in Yamaguchi’s eyes that Osamu only recognized with satisfied customers and Osamu’s sure that that Yamaguchi’s spicy salmon onigiri is the exact same order that he had at the Adlers Jackels game, the one that had gotten him hooked.
Osamu has a good feeling he’d deliver on it again.
(He’s got faith in his shrimp tempura too. After all, why recommend it if he wasn’t confident in it?)
He’s right. Yamaguchi returns the next day and orders the exact same thing; and the next, and the next.
They never talk too much. Just some harmless chatter, small talk. There’s nothing deep about the conversations, nothing that crosses the line into intimate or even friendly. But between the hectic morning rush and the isolation of the new branch, Osamu’s glad to see a familiar face day in and day out. Yamaguchi always came in with a smile, always ordered the same thing, and always well—enjoyed it. He would return the next day and rave about how delicious the onigiri the previous day was and never seemed to tire of ordering the same thing.
What more could Osamu have asked for in a repeat customer? If there was anything Osamu loved about cooking it was building up a solid, loyal customer base, a base that appreciated his food. Loyalty in his eyes was rewarded and as days turned into weeks, Osamu begins to reward Yamaguchi’s loyalty in the same way he did many of his repeat customers. His onigiri quality was the same for all, however there were more little things that Osamu could certainly do to show his appreciation.
The first day that Osamu slides over Yamaguchi’s order unprompted with a warm greeting, he’d feels a surge of pride in seeing the way Yamaguchi’s eyes light up, delight coloring his face.
“You didn’t have to.” Yamaguchi exclaims, taking his usual order in his hands. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
“It wasn’t. Think of it as my thanks. It’s always good to see ya in the morning.” Osamu had meant those words, and he watches as Yamaguchi’s mouth spreads into a grin in return.
“I can never pass up onigiri from Onigiri Miya in the morning.”
He didn’t, and in turn Osamu can never pass up a good customer.
But time seemed to float pass Osamu in the blink of an eye and it’s unfortunate to him that his time is drastically limited. Weeks pass before Osamu knows it and when Osamu casts his gaze around the shop weeks later, he comes to the stunning realization that the Sendai branch is fairly self-sufficient. Osamu had hired a few more employees, people who over the weeks had earned his trust both in service and in technicality. He had a reputable team now, a well trained one, it was time to go home and check on the Hyogo shop and then the Tokyo one.
He doesn’t tell Yamaguchi that he’s leaving. After all, why would he? They weren’t more than frequent acquaintances if anything, their relationship akin to a shop owner and a customer. Osamu doubted that Yamaguchi would treat his departure as anything more than a blip in his day, offering nothing more than a polite smile and a basic “Well, I hope to see you again soon Miya-san.” Osamu himself shouldn’t have particularly cared. He had plenty of loyal customers, Yamaguchi was no different.
But days in Hyogo made Osamu antsy and though he loves to serve his repeat Tokyo customers who have dearly missed him, he couldn’t help but wonder—was Yamaguchi still going to Onigiri Miya? Was he disappointed that Osamu was gone?
A rather ridiculous thought, They had done nothing but make small talk, they were barely more than acquaintences. And yet—
Well. Osamu was the owner responsible for Onigiri Miya, it was only natural that he visit all of his shops and he had been planning a trip back to Sendai to check on the shop anyways.
On his first day back in the Sendai branch after weeks of absence, Osamu makes sure to set Yamaguchi’s order aside. Spicy salmon onigiri and shrimp tempura, carefully wrapped in a to go container. With a smile on his face, Osamu has to admit he was looking forward to seeing the familiar face again.
But that the morning after Osamu’s return, Yamagushi never shows up.
Osamu can’t help but feel a little disappointed.