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Chapter Text

In Daichi’s defense, she was not in love with her roommate when they first moved in.

At least not in the most technical, obvious sense.

In the most technical, obvious sense, Daichi had not stopped thinking about Sugawara Koushi from the moment they had crossed paths, that one fateful evening in their second year of college: The Queer Society mixer where she had introduced herself as ‘Call me Suga’. When she threw her head back in tinkling laughter when Daichi had accidentally—foolishly—called her a nerd for being a maths major. Suga seemed unendingly amused by Daichi, in an almost evil way that she would only later learn was harmless. Not that it would have mattered even then. The only thing that mattered was that Daichi, by some miracle, had Suga’s attention. And if she could keep it on her long enough, she could figure out how to keep it longer still.  

But none of that was love. Not yet. Not when their only regular meetings were at Q-Soc events, interspersed with not quite enough group hangouts, study sessions, and the occasional drunk night. They were—by all definitions—friends, but that was about it.

It was only when they had both decided to move up to grad school, while most of all their other friends made more rational decisions about their careers and Suga approached Daichi with the prospect of living together, that the proverbial shit really hit the proverbial fan.

Daichi had spent four years looking through her lashes at Suga’s luminous face with the same fervour as a child hiding candy in the folds of their mouth. To allow for breaks from the sweetness. To make it last longer. 

Back then, Daichi had the option to step away when she got too overwhelmed. Not like now, when everything in her immediate surroundings smelled of Suga’s shampoo and green tea perfume. 

Daichi might've still had a chance if it were not for how affectionate Suga was. Slowly but casually, it had become routine for them to be holding hands when walking, or lying down in front of their barely functional TV while Suga played with Daichi's hair.For her to drape herself along Daichi’s back when it was her turn to cook. For her legs to hook onto Daichi’s when they sat next to each other.

None of these were anything out of the ordinary, of course. Nothing particularly damning. It was just Suga being Suga. But every day tested a little more of Daichi’s resolve. A tiny inconvenient crush tearing away into something more. And then something more. 

Daichi couldn’t help being reminded of that very fact just as Suga walked into the kitchen where she sat, already digging into her bowl of cereal. Her silver hair was sticking up in every direction and her eyes were barely open to the waking world, making her look a lot like a sleepy daffodil. Daichi had to tuck her face down to hide her fond smile. 

Suga squinted for a bit at Daichi’s much more alert form and then plopped herself down on the chair beside her, body facing squarely in Daichi’s direction. One of the most important rules in their household was that they barely spoke in the mornings. Sometimes, not until they were ready to leave out the door. But Daichi didn’t need any additional prompting to pull her spoon up to Suga’s face with a sigh and wait for her breakfast to be hijacked. And when Suga made no move to take a bite, Daichi was acutely aware of the need to move her hand under her hijacker’s chin and push the spoon into her lips till the barest smirk engulfed its contents. Daichi also saw coming the shiver the small action would send through her body, a dizzying pulse even after all this time. 

And then, all at once, the moment shattered. When Suga wiped her mouth against the sleeve of Daichi’s t-shirt, a wet trail she could see but not feel. With a groan, Daichi shoved her away while Suga cackled triumphantly. 

“You’re so annoying,” Daichi whispered sharply. And Suga repeated her motion with even more flair.

Often, like right now, Daichi realised that there was no need for their relationship to be romantic. There was no love lost in the way that they could be around each other, teasingly affectionate and joined at the hip almost monogamously. So Daichi could never let herself name the feeling that kept her wanting more out loud. It felt like cheating of some kind. Like singly overdrafting on a joint account. Like continuing to stare at someone’s plate when they already handed you the biggest piece of pie. And yet Daichi could always feel stray hope bloom inside her with each casual touch, with each prolonged eye contact. What was it about desire that never stopped feeling selfish? Never stopped feeling like highway robbery?

Daichi knew she needed to get over this. Needed to get over this wanting-more-than-was-offered business. 

And yet, when they ate breakfast together like this, with Suga leaning close with a smug open mouth demanding another bite, Daichi found herself wondering how much of a line it would cross to pull her onto her lap. To graze her fingers against her thigh while she fed from her mouth in kind. Sometimes, it felt like it would make no difference at all. Sometimes, it felt like it would shatter the world where it stood. It was a delicate balance Daichi tread every day with the freedom of being allowed to touch Suga as she wanted. It felt limitless and oppressive all at once. 

And Daichi wanted. 

All she did was want.

When Daichi came back from her last class in the afternoon, Suga was lounging on her bed, absently scrolling through her phone like it was her most natural state.

"Remember how we pay for a two-bedroom?"

Suga looked up, brightening despite Daichi's tone.

"And what about it?"

"How about we act like it every once in a while? You know, just for kicks?" Daichi dropped her backpack to the floor and flung herself sideways across her bed. Before she could stake any more claim on the surface, though, Suga rolled up right next to her.

She hummed while pretending to consider Daichi’s words for a while.

"No."

"No?"

"My room doesn't smell like you, Daichi-san."

Daichi balked, her cheeks warming up involuntarily. She never knew how to respond to Suga's thoughtless flirtations. And thankfully, Suga rarely waited for a reaction.

"Are we going to Atsumu's party?" she asked, looking intently at her phone once again as if nothing happened. 

Daichi narrowed her eyes at the ceiling to join the dots and then turned to Suga. "Is it tonight?"

Suga nodded, her eyes flicking sidelong unsurely. 

"I'm done for the day,” Daichi shrugged. “We can go."

"Okay!” Suga sat up excitedly. “Then I need to borrow that thing you wore the other day."

"What thing?"

As Suga vaguely gestured about in a bad explanation of the garment, Daichi let herself feel the slightest tinge of satisfaction about Suga’s enthusiasm. It wasn’t like she was opposed to going out or partying in general, but she liked to space out the days when she did go out in order to reduce the likelihood of getting too drained from social interaction. Knowing this, Suga always approached plans like these with caution. Even though she never made a big deal when Daichi declined, her elation when Daichi said yes was always palpable through her very being. There was nothing quite like Suga at her happiest to make Daichi’s heart flutter erratically.   

“Oh my god! You should wear the tie, ” Suga beamed, pulling the fabric in question out of Daichi’s closet.

The tie was Asahi’s—Daichi’s best friend’s wonderful creation. A necktie hand-embroidered with pearls in a criss-cross pattern all the way down its length. Asahi took weeks to make it: first to stitch the base, and then to do the handiwork on top of her already hectic workload for fashion school. When Daichi received it on her birthday, she all but wept. It was her most prized possession. It definitely helped that Suga loved it every time she wore it, always playing with the smooth white beads with her fingers. Daichi should probably get her something with pearls. And also text Asahi to come to the party. 

“It’s too hot for it, though,” Daichi realised. They shared a brief pout and Suga went back to hunting through Daichi’s closet.

“Wait! This is what I was talking about!”  

As Daichi made the final touches to styling her mullet in the mirror, Suga came up behind Daichi, her hands wrapping around her waist and her chin resting on her shoulder. Instinctively, Daichi's hands came up to rest against Suga's, drawing them just that closer.

"We look good," Suga appraised.

And they did.

Both of them were dressed in all black, like they liked to for occasions such as these. Daichi, with her open cropped shirt, a sports bra underneath, and knee-length oversized shorts. Suga, in Daichi's waistcoat, paired with a lacy miniskirt. They made a good-looking pair. They looked good. 

Daichi wondered if Suga also thought as much about how well their bodies fit against each other, always pressing into each other's softness with no room for air. If the naked thrill that vibrated through layers and layers of clothing lingered in her mind the same way.

She drew a shaky breath and instead of all the things she wanted to say, she said, "Let's go."

As it often was with parties, Daichi heard its loud sounds before the house even came into view. It was a passably old duplex shared by 6 people. Daichi knew that, like Atsumu, most of them played some college sport or another. Which meant that their parties had an impressive attendance each time. It was something Daichi was impressed by and feared in equal measure. 

Once inside, they made their way past the sea of bodies, Suga's hand never leaving hers. It grounded Daichi while her eyes adjusted to the dim lights and close quarters. From where Daichi was standing, all she could see was the expanse of the hall—now littered with tightly packed college students of all ages—and the kitchen at the other end.

They kept walking until they spotted Oikawa at the drinks table. 

Oikawa Tooru was Suga’s best friend from high school. An entomology major. Terrifying human. They had the sort of friendship where most of their conversations happened with just a look. Oikawa was endlessly endeared by everything about Suga, a sentiment she shared for not many others. Even now, as Suga whispered something into her ear with a wide grin, Oikawa only regarded Daichi with a bored once-over. That much was unsurprising. Whenever they crossed paths in their living room on sleepover nights, Daichi got the distinct impression that Oikawa was not a fan. She did not want to find out why. 

Beside her, a tall girl with spiky hair and a faint scowl stood close. Daichi had never seen her before. But then again, she wouldn't consider herself an expert on any part of Oikawa's life.

Suga placed a plastic shot glass in her hand and Daichi downed it like a reflex, forgetting its tendency to burn its way down her throat. They exchanged scrunched looks before laughing and reaching for another, much larger plastic cup that Oikawa passed on. A good rule of thumb for large parties was to drink up while you still could. Besides, the drunker Daichi got, the easier it was to forget the finer details like how she would look while she danced or that Suga was wearing her clothes. And looking like that. 

It was somewhere around her second (third?) drink that Asahi found her way to her. Daichi was immediately wrapped in the tightest, warmest hug that she couldn’t even pretend to grumble about. It felt like too long since they’d last met. Especially now that Asahi was a fresh-in-the-market employee in the fashion world, even living in the same building was not doing them any favors. She had been working insanely long hours and brought work home more often than not. 

“I’m so happy you’re here!” Daichi screamed over the music. 

“I missed you!” Asahi cooed back with equal passion. Before her expression changed to something more teasing "I heard Michimiya was looking for you," Asahi nudged her playfully.

Daichi cocked her head in confusion, "Why?"

Asahi gave her only a flat look in response "She has like the biggest crush on you"

"I've talked to her, like, twice."

Asahi looked at her incredulous exasperation and then just sighed. Daichi didn’t want the lecture today. Her best friend’s concern, no matter how well placed, wasn’t what she needed when she was just starting to feel light and tipsy.

"Is Noya coming?" Daichi asked, in a desperate bid to change the topic. Asahi saw it for what it was but let it go with only a small frown. 

"She has a shoot but she'll definitely be here." Asahi blushed before she added, "She said she really needs to—and I quote—‘get hammered and then screwed like nobody's business’.”

Daichi laughed. It was always pleasantly surprising to see the effect Nishinoya’s crassness had had on her own girlfriend. Daichi could've never imagined Asahi saying something like that out loud, in public no less, only 4 years ago.

"Oh, let me go say hi to Iwaizumi,” Asahi said suddenly, looking at the other end of the drinks table where Oikawa and Suga still stood, talking animatedly. “I didn't know she'd be coming!" she mused, referring to the tall girl standing next to them. Huh, so that was her name.

Daichi decided to finish her drink before making her way over to the group. Trying and failing to keep up with two sets of conversations, she poured herself a spontaneous cocktail from three different glass bottles. It would at least give her hands something to do. And taking periodic gulps while hovering around people engaged in their own discussions counted enough as hanging out. 

With this in mind, she turned back around to where Suga was. Or at least she tried to before she bumped into another person and spilled her drink down her hand. 

"Oh shit."

"I’m so sorry!"

Daichi shoved her glass and arm away from the rest of her body. Hoping, more than anything, to save her clothes. She didn’t want to deal with wet fabric clinging to her skin, leaving a sticky residue wherever it touched. It was only when a frantic pair of hands began wiping at her own that she looked up to see who the other person was. 

“Thank god it’s not that bad,” Yui Michimiya quipped with a smile.

Yui Michimiya was a Sociology major like Daichi used to be. They’d come across each other a few times during department events. Which, from what she could recall, was a polite and pleasant enough experience. Michimiya was pretty and well-known among her peers. That was the extent of her knowledge of the girl in front of her. That and whatever Asahi seemed to believe about her. 

"Thanks,” Daichi mumbled, awkwardly holding her own elbow.

"I’m Michimiya. I don't know if you remember me?” she asked brightly, “We've met a few times."

"O-oh yes, of course. Michimiya." Daichi tried for her most respectable smile. 

“I’m sorry for bumping into you like that!” Michimiya pursed her lips apologetically. Daichi waved her off. "Would you like to dance?"

Daichi gaped at the sudden shift in their topic of conversation. Her mouth opened and closed in an attempt to find something to say.

"Daichiiii,” Suga’s voice crooned from somewhere behind her. “Letsdanceletsdanceletsdanceee." 

Michimiya’s wide eyes shifted to the person now wrapped around Daichi’s arm, who herself felt a little frozen by the amount of input she received in the last two minutes. Suga tugged at Daichi’s shoulder, her other hand gesturing to the centre of the room. The makeshift dance floor. Daichi looked between the two in half alarm, still having not found her bearings. 

Suga rose to the occasion instead, gasping as if only realising another presence, "Oh, hi! Sorry, can I steal her for a bit?"

"Um-"

"Thanks!" Suga called out cheekily and yanked Daichi away.

As her head wrapped around what just happened—as much as it could in her drunken haze— she recognised the opening notes of a familiar song. Suga pulled them to a part of the room where all the twisting limbs wouldn’t suffocate them. 

~Those of you with nice shoulders,

I'd like to put my hands around them~

Daichi felt herself calm down as she and Suga danced close to each other, following the lyrics like an instructional manual. It was a potent drug: the combination of alcohol, dancing with abandon, and Suga’s laughter in her ear.

Even when the music settled into a slow lull, and the dance floor cleared of people wanting to get more drinks or catch their breath, they stayed. Whatever they were doing now could hardly qualify as dancing on account of drunken gracelessness. But they remained pressed close. So so close. Suga’s arms were wrapped around Daichi's neck and she couldn’t remember what it ever felt like to breathe. Or what it was like to blink. Not wanting, despite the drunkenness pulling at her own focus, to miss a second of Suga’s unwavering attention.

The dim lights of the room caught on her silver hair and reflected bursts of light like fireworks. Daichi remembered when it used to be longer. When they first met. It always made her stand out in every room she walked in. But Daichi also knew that there wasn't much that could keep Suga from pulling every eye wherever or however she existed. 

If it wasn't the hair, it would be her smile. Especially the small, shy smile that she was giving Daichi right now. She was so beautiful. She was so close. Almost forgetting herself, as if they were just doing another dance move, Daichi dipped her nose in the curve of her neck and breathed her in. Suga melding even closer into Daichi. It was hard to tell how much of it was from Suga moving closer herself and how much was from Daichi's arms around her, pulling her in tighter.

"Daichi," Suga whispered. It must've been a call, a word that led to a greater sentence. Like "Daichi, we should go home" or "Daichi, you are suffocating me" or "Daichi, what the fuck are you doing?" but nothing else came. Her name was an entire sentence on Suga’s lips. Suga’s lips. They were right there when Daichi pulled back to look her in the eye, to show that she was paying attention. That she wasn't as gone as she actually was by the heady presence of Suga wrapped all up around her. Suga was looking right into her eyes. Not intending to say anything else. Anything else at all.

Suga’s face moved closer to Daichi's untill she felt her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek. Somehow Suga moved even closer, her face slowly nuzzling as a content sigh escaped her. Daichi wanted to die like this. 

There was no semblance of acknowledgement of the world around her. Everything fell away. Suga’s hands in her hair and breath on her face chipped away at every dimension of reality that existed outside the edges of the two of them fused together. Suga pressed a light kiss on her cheek. It was as chaste as they come. But Daichi felt it sharp like a brand. 

It wasn't like Suga had never kissed her cheek, but somehow the combined effect of alcohol and Suga being close, staying close, made everything feel novel. Especially when Suga pressed another kiss down the line of her jaw. And then another. And then another. One on the edge of her mouth. For a heartbeat, Suga pulled away, and Daichi felt like she'd freeze without her warmth. And then her lips fell right between the seam of her mouth with a press of finality. Daichi's lips opened to her without hesitation.

Suga felt satiny-soft. Daichi wanted to believe that this was just like she'd always imagined but history had taught her that her imagination fell short in the face of everything Suga. She would always be caught by surprise. Pleasant beyond measure. Like how Suga nipped at her bottom lip in between kisses. How her breath came out in the quietest moans that Daichi was more than happy to lap up into her mouth. Her nails raked into Daichi's scalp and left behind the sort of stinging sensation that you can never get enough of. None of this Daichi could've been prepared for.

Kissing Suga felt like swallowing a star. Bright in ways you knew to expect and jagged in ways you did not. It might have been easier to just kiss like it didn't mean anything. To kiss like it was just another set of lips that moved against Daichi's. Like two drunk magnets falling into each other in the shadows of a party for a friend of a friend. It might have been easier to hold her upright, against Daichi's body, fingers examining like she didn't want to sculpt her anew. But it was over too soon.

It felt like only an eternity or a single second had passed when Suga pulled away and pressed their foreheads together, catching her breath and also not. She silently rubbed her thumb against Daichi's lip, like she was soothing the assault of teeth and tongue she didn't refrain from. Or maybe like an apology. Then she leaned back just enough to look into the brown eyes that were still too afraid to leave her. She smiled and rested her head on Daichi's shoulder, continuing the dance they never really started. As Daichi finally registered the mellow sound that Suga was trying to match her rhythm to, it hit her all at once.

She could never not be in love with Sugawara Koushi.

When Daichi woke up the next morning, her hands moved up to her lips even before she knew what to make of the motion. They traced its shape as her head throbbed wildly and mouth dried up more with the second. She barely remembered much about last night.

She felt her fingers against her mouth and a flash of memory came rushing back. The kiss.

She didn’t remember how they made their way back. Or why she woke up alone in her bed. Briefly, she wondered if she was even supposed to remember what little she did. Maybe it was just a dream. Or something very close to it. Something that had no roots in reality. Something that would keep drifting at the edge of memory, but never find shelter. Something about that thought made her head ache even more. She shook herself once and went back to sleep. 

It was just a drunken mistake. Nothing more. Nothing else. 

Chapter Text

After many tired years of dealing with exam season, Daichi had landed on a simple routine of always visiting home the weekend before hell unleashed. It provided the much-needed distance from the anxious buzz that overtook the college during that time—the collective anxiety linked all the students like a hive mind. It also gave her a brief respite from her semester-long cosplay of a functional adult, a respite which, somehow made her assignments feel a lot more achievable than they would otherwise. Not to mention, Daichi's mom always ended up sending her back with enough food to feed a small village. It really was her smartest contingency plan. 

Except, this time she wasn't going alone. 

"She's such a lovely girl. And we haven't seen her in so long," Daichi's mom said over the phone.

"You met her once when you came to the city. Why are you acting like she's your long-lost child?"

"She takes such good care of you, the least we can do is invite her home." 

This started somewhere around the time, months ago, when Daichi got a stomach infection so bad she had emptied out her guts, puking for three days straight. Suga had been by her side the whole time, making sure to coordinate with her panicking family back home, giving them constant updates, and reassuring them (fifty times a day) that they did not need to come down. Suga had taken care of her until she got better, dealing with three whole days of Daichi at her worst: petulant, whiny, and uncomfortable. It was the first real look Daichi got at the full extent of Suga’s patience. 

“I’m not taking any medicine,” Daichi had held her mouth shut every time, imagining in detail the bitter taste and the dissolving powdery texture on her tongue. Despite all her protests, however, she had not succeeded in her attempts even once. Suga would only fix her with a gaze–eyes dancing with mirth–with the pills held out in one hand and a glass of water in another. 

“I’m not taking it.” 

Suga’s expression remained unchanged. 

“I’m really not.” 

Silence.

“Okay, fine. Give it to me.”

As embarrassing as it was to think of it now, something about that experience had brought them much closer. Daichi felt her usual stoic control over her emotions unravel slowly. It seemed a bit pointless after Suga had seen her in a state of such vulnerability. In return, Suga learned newer and newer ways to put Daichi at ease. To care for her when she wanted to push everyone away. To console when she was inconsolable. 

But more importantly, ever since then, Suga had become quite the crowd favourite in the Sawamura household. They’d only met her once in person when they came for Parents’ Day and then insisted that they take them both out for dinner. Suga had charmed her way around the table in no time. They were so excited to have her over that Daichi was almost convinced that if she sent Suga along without her this weekend, there was a fair chance her parents might not even notice. 

Daichi had been looking forward to this for weeks. She had been making more plans than they possibly could have time for. Suga, it seemed, was just as thrilled to visit the house she was raised in. It was still pretty exciting.

If only it hadn't been for that night. Snagging on Daichi's heart like a chipped nail catching onto the sheets. If only things hadn't been so glaringly normal, so unutterably mundane since then. Daichi's chest clenched at how easy it was for them to forget it. To fall back into their usual rhythms. Like right now: as Daichi tried to pack and Suga, done with her own packing, helped by folding Daichi's clothes to be put in her duffel bag. 

She wanted it to not be a big deal. For the ache that travelled through her body to be explained away by exam stress, or the fear of her dissertation outline being rejected for the fourth time, or how she still hadn't found a way to come out to her parents. But as Daichi sat at the edge of her bed, fiddling with her own hands but otherwise unmoving, she knew they didn't matter as much. Not right now.

"You're gonna burn a hole into that bag, Dai."

Daichi jolted from her thoughts. Still a little dazed, she only grunted in response. She moved her hand across her face in a sobering attempt. But the bag stayed where it was, and so did Daichi. 

She felt the mattress shift as Suga moved closer. Daichi half expected her warm weight to fall against her shoulders and half, for her to be pushed off the bed. What she didn't expect was Suga's teeth biting into the side of her neck sharply. 

"OW FUCK," Daichi rose from the bed in one move, hand covering the assaulted portion of her neck. “SUGA, WHAT THE HELL.”

"Pack your bags so we can watch Bottoms again," Suga whined, bouncing a little in her position on the bed. 

"And you found no other way to communicate that?" Daichi retorted with wide offended eyes. 

"Not really, no."

This was another of Suga's learned moves– her famous sleight of hand. Shocking Daichi out of her own head. An emotional ice bath, if you will. Or a marginally more pleasant slap in the face. 

Despite herself, Daichi found it working. The sting of the bite suddenly felt a lot more real than the world of her thoughts. As she got to work, in the safety of her mind, she quietly resented that Suga knew her this well. 

This would've been a lot easier if she didn't. 

"I swear Daichi behaves so much nicer when you're around, Koushi. She looks so grumpy otherwise." 

"She looks grumpy around me too. I think that's just her face."

"Wow."

Suga and Daichi’s mom giggled together like long-lost friends, bonding over their mutual love for bullying Daichi. They sat in their living room, each nursing a cup of tea before bed. Daichi had been more of a distant spectator, or unwarranted target more like, for their entire interaction. Even Daichi’s dad, the silent head of the family, had stayed down a bit longer than his usual bedtime. Their house felt more alive, shuddered awake with banter and laughter. Probably the most it had been since Daichi and her sister moved out for college.

It felt right. It was hard to imagine someone who wouldn't be taken with Suga. There was an ease with which she knew to navigate the world. It was something that didn't lose its charm even years after seeing the rawer edges of her personality. You didn't have to be in love with Suga to see that. Although, Daichi was probably not the best person to comment on that.

"You sure you’re okay sleeping on her bed tonight?" Daichi’s mom asked for the fifth time, her face twisting with the telltale signs of maternal guilt. The one that always made her feel like a bad host. 

"Of course!" Suga reassured her the same way every time the topic was brought up. Suga had turned down the futon that was planned ahead of time for her, spouting something about dust allergies that never existed before today. Daichi shrugged it off. 

"I just want to make sure you haven't changed your mind,” Mom insisted, nodding towards Daichi with a mock tragic expression. “She's a kicker, you know."

"Are you now, Daichi-san?" Suga beamed, her foot reaching out across the couch to nudge Daichi’s. 

"I used to be,” Daichi said slowly, emphasising the correction. “I don't kick anymore. Don't look at me like that, when have I kicked you?"

"You can kick me if you want," Suga teased, her head tilted challengingly. 

"Stop being annoying," Daichi muttered, avoiding eye contact. Suga was having way too much fun and Daichi had even less defenses in front of her mom. She got up to collect their mugs and take them to the kitchen to distract from the blush creeping down her neck. "And for the record,” she paused just before leaving and pointed a sarcastic finger between her supposed mother and roommate. “I hate this." 

(A bold-faced lie.)

Daichi’s bed was big enough for the both of them to sleep comfortably. They weren’t strangers to sharing beds, but Daichi couldn’t help the warm feeling that swept over her as they got ready for the night. A part of her kept thinking about how simple it could all be. Suga fit so well in each part of her life: falling into place in her childhood room where Daichi had every gay crisis ever, just as much as the apartment they’d both made home. Daichi could’ve been imagining it, but she could swear she saw a knowing look pass her mom’s face every time Daichi and Suga were bickering. It could just be wishful thinking. But it was a stubborn thought. It could be that simple.

"Hey," Suga whispered into the quiet of the room. They were lying next to each other now. Daichi turned to face her, already smiling from her own thoughts. Suga, vibrating with energy even at the end of a long day, tangled her legs into hers and held them in place.

"Try kicking me now."

"I can't move, Suga," Daichi replied, deadpan.

"Good," she said, her smile teasing.

On instinct, Daichi knew to play along. She tried to go slack and slither her way out of the stronghold, but Suga kept twisting further and further into her, giggling mischievously the entire time. Daichi's attempts to escape weren't even half-hearted, they were quarter-hearted at most. She couldn't help the laugh that huffed out of her at Suga's obvious enjoyment. In a show of retaliation, she wormed her arms around Suga's. It only made her giggle more. 

Daichi wanted to taste it, the pop rock bursts of her joy. She wanted to inhale its scent off her body and steal some for herself. Suga's face was glowing from the moonlight streaming from the window. It made her look other-worldly. Daichi had to stutter a breath out of her mouth to regain herself. She tried to dip into her rushing train of thought for something un-incriminating to say.

Coiled together like this, their faces were close, her mouth almost against Suga's. There was nothing she could say that wouldn't be marred by that knowledge. Every whisper would fan her own breath back from Suga's face, sweeter for it but still heavy with want. There must be something that could be said that made her forget that. Something that she could pull out of thin air, even as the air between them grew thicker and thicker with uncharacteristic silence. 

Daichi must've been staring because Suga's smile had frozen on her face, her eyes now searching. Daichi should look away. But then, Suga pushed towards Daichi hesitantly. Daichi's eyes followed the movement with feverish concentration. She paused any movement her own body was making, the careful stillness of being around an unpredictable animal. 

Suga's mouth opened with a gasp as if to say or ask something. Then she shook her head lightly like she had thought better of it, choosing instead to slip the hand now wrapped around Daichi's back under her t-shirt. Suga drew lazy circles around her bare back with her finger. It would’ve felt casual, a distracted gesture almost. Except, Suga wasn’t smiling anymore. An intensity took over her expression making Daichi lean into the touch, eyes closing instinctively. Suga could have been writing something on her skin. If Daichi tried to focus, she could catch a few letters here and there. But she could not have strung anything out of them. Even though the illegible words were all she could feel anywhere. As if her entire physical form had been reduced to those nimble touches.

Daichi didn't open her eyes when the pressure of the fingers pointedly increased. Even when they dug half-crescent nail marks into her skin. She didn't open her eyes even when she felt the familiar lips break open the tight pucker of her mouth. She kissed back blindly, remembering the soft contours despite their one brief acquaintance. She didn't dare chance a peek. Suga's tongue twisted around hers, as if in a final victory of closeness. Daichi's surrender was inevitable. Suga could take everything. Anything. It was all hers anyway. But Daichi would not open her eyes. Because only in this world of purposeful darkness would Suga claim her like this. Only here could she lose herself so shamelessly. 

Just as long as she didn't open her eyes.

It was Suga who fell asleep first.

It was hard to tell when. They were resting against each other. Daichi didn’t know if they’d stopped or paused. Only when Suga’s breathing slowed in the deeper rhythms of slumber, did Daichi open her eyes.  

She let herself press back into their still tangled limbs, fighting the soreness that was winding its way down her legs. It was still night for now. Her every movement was not yet on trial.

For now, she could have this. Without excuses coming up short. Without appending every afterthought with: it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. Over and over again. 

Daichi had to be up early the next morning to help her mom with breakfast. She tip-toed out of her room, leaving Suga sleeping and undisturbed.

It helped her to busy herself with the motions of the prep. Cutting fruit, putting coffee on, whisking eggs, making toast. She ended up taking most of the tasks, but there was still no way she could've done everything on her own. Apparently, Daichi's mom had decided that Suga was eating enough for a few lifetimes. 

Daichi's mind kept reeling back to last night. And then over to how, despite the phantom indents over her body and the lingering taste, she had nothing to show for it. Just faint tactile memory and Suga herself. Any proof that could exist of their kisses resided between them, suspended in the ghost realm of forgotten things. There was no reason to believe things would be different this time. 

There was no meaning to look for underneath these moments. They just were. Suga didn't have feelings for her. Even though it felt like she could sometimes. That was just who she was. She just knew how to make Daichi feel special. But that's also how she was with everyone. She was this affectionate and attentive with everyone she cared about, Daichi had seen it herself with Oikawa. And they'd known each other much longer. 

She didn't want Suga to think that she couldn't be herself around her. She definitely didn't want to risk exposing her own feelings. It was painful to consider that Suga already knew, so she didn't. Nothing had to change between them. If Suga wanted it to not be a big deal, then Daichi could play the part. 

It was bad enough that she was harbouring this unrequited crush. She couldn't let it hamper their friendship. 

As her mother fussed about, Daichi slowly and meditatively practiced the most impassive persona she could invoke. 

"What does she like on her pancakes?" her mom asked mid-panic, a bit of batter streaked from her cheek all the way into her hair. 

"She won't have anything but honey and butter,” Daichi responded without much thought, wiping her mother’s face with her thumb. When her mom picked up strawberries questioningly, she pushed them away to the other side of the feast laid out on the table. “She doesn't like hot fruit."

"You know, we ran out of cereal yesterday. What if she wants cereal?" Daichi’s mother muttered, her hands gesturing about like she was calculating something. 

"I think between the eggs, pancakes, fruit, and toast, she'd find something she could settle for,” Daichi rolled her eyes. “As traumatic as a cereal-less morning would be, she might just survive." 

"I wouldn't be so sure," came the bright, if still groggy, voice from the doorway. “What if I had a serious cornflake deficiency?” Suga quipped. She looked like she’d just woken up and then immediately slid her way down to the kitchen. Her subsequent yawn confirmed Daichi’s suspicions. 

"I can run to the store," Daichi’s mom responded, already making her way out before she even finished speaking. 

Suga blocked her exit, with a single step to her left and a dramatic pout. "Want to get away from me that bad? I just came down."

"Never," said Daichi’s mom with surprising sincerity, patting her cheek gently. “But I’ll get some stuff for around the house. You kids enjoy breakfast!”

Daichi felt her plan unspool as her mother slammed the door shut behind her, leaving them both alone. She’d been relying on strategically maneuvering the rest of their day around conversation-unfriendly scenarios and her best poker face. 

She stared at the scrambling eggs in front of her with laser focus. Suddenly, she was very invested in making sure they were done right. “It’s almost done,” she blurted, hoping that the topic of breakfast would derail any other possible discussion. 

Suga didn’t respond. When Daichi turned around to check if she was even still there, she found her flitting her gaze between the floor and somewhere past Daichi’s shoulder. She looked guilty. Or cornered, maybe. Like how Daichi felt. Maybe she felt responsible for something. To say something. 

"It's good," The words left Daichi’s mouth in a tumble, unable to stand Suga’s discomfort. "We're good."

Suga blinked in surprise, and then frowned in mild concern, "Yeah?"

"It's just-" It's just kissing. It's not a big deal. Daichi wanted to lie. But she couldn't bring herself to acknowledge it in broad daylight, scared of shattering something she didn't know the fragility of. 

"It's us, right?" Daichi shrugged. It was the easiest explanation. Whatever this was, it didn’t need to be anything more than just them. And between them, they could be anything. Nothing had to change. No one had to worry. They were still them. Nothing had to change. 

Daichi brought her attention back to serving breakfast to their plates. Her own toast was cut into squares instead of triangles, Suga’s eggs were sprinkled with chili flakes, and the next batch of pancakes was sizzling in the pan. Not too different from their occasional Sunday breakfast. 

Daichi worked her way through the feeling of eyes trained on her back, prickling her neck ominously. She threw a smile that she hoped was reassuring over her shoulder and Suga only looked back with an unreadable expression. She kept looking at Daichi like she wasn't even looking at her. Like she was trying to puzzle something out. Before Daichi could figure out what, Suga’s eyes refocused and she nodded once with a sad smile. 

Daichi held out her plate, in a placating gesture. But even as Suga accepted it and seemed to regain her usual self, Daichi got the weird feeling that she’d done something very, very wrong. 

Thankfully, the rest of their day revolved around Daichi walking Suga around her hometown, pointing out the different places she frequented growing up. The park where her, Asahi, and Noya would hang out half the time after school. The snack bar where they spent the other half. Her old cycling route. The public pool where she went swimming every summer. Suga took it all in, pocketing all this new information and asking a lot of questions, laughing openly at every funny story Daichi peppered through their tour. It felt okay again. 

On the train back, they were mostly silent. It didn’t feel weighted but Daichi felt the need to be on the lookout for any evidence of residual tension. 

It wasn’t until they were back that she found it. 

She knew that they were both going to be looking down on a very busy month. But it felt like she was seeing less and less of Suga with every passing day. Never before did Daichi have to intentionally sit and work in the common spaces of their house to try and run into Suga. And yet, that was exactly what she found herself doing after days of them having barely talked. Suga had been spending more time at the library. When she was home, she worked in her room. They had meals at different times. Her room remained unoccupied when she came back. Evenings in the house were too quiet. It was like they were out of sync. 

But they were busy. When had the grand task of writing a dissertation on top of other papers ever been kind to anyone? It was surely just that. Once the month was over, they would go back to the way they were. It wasn’t like this had anything to do with… anything else. Daichi stared down at the small box lying next to her, wondering if it was somehow going to make things worse. 

Sometime before all this, Daichi had been scrolling through Etsy on a night she felt like doing little else and found a handmade necklace. A row of pearls laid out in a criss-cross pattern. It was an almost perfect match to the embroidery on her favorite tie. She was placing an order before she could even register what she was doing. Suga’s birthday was still a while away but it had felt like a harmless gift. 

But now, she worried about what it could mean. What it could be perceived as. Maybe Suga really had been avoiding her this entire time. Maybe because she wasn’t convinced that Daichi meant her own words back then. Maybe she thought that they could both use some space so that Daichi didn’t take things too seriously. If that were true, then showing up with an off-season gift would not help her case in the least. 

On the other hand, Daichi had no intention of returning the package. She had forgotten that she even ordered it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to give it either way. She read through the same five lines of the paper she was supposed to be working on again and again, while she debated what to do. Giving up, she turned to stare at the closed door of Suga’s room. Maybe she could just leave it at her door. Would that be too rude? In different circumstances, she would consider it a weird thing to do. Maybe she could just pass it off as something done out of convenience. She made her way to Suga’s room.

Yeah. That made sense. 

It was just more convenient to leave it at her door. It wasn’t a statement or anything. It wasn’t a thing. It was simply the act of leaving a package at your roommate’s door. Plenty of people did that, probably.  

"Are you peeping on me?"

Daichi jumped back, not expecting Suga to open the door in between her mentally hashing out her action plan and its possible reasoning. 

“Um–I,” Daichi started.

"What's that?" Suga’s gaze dropped to the box in Daichi’s hand. 

Daichi’s fingers tightened around it, fighting the urge to hide it behind her back. “It’s, um-” Her mouth suddenly felt very dry. “It’s for you.”

Suga narrowed her eyes at Daichi, slowly reaching for it. Gaze still fixed, she ripped open the package so gracelessly Daichi had to wince. Suga was never patient with packages so at least Daichi wasn’t to be blamed for that. But she couldn’t be as confident about whatever was to follow. 

Suga’s confusion didn’t budge as she took out the black plastic box contained within. Daichi pursed her lips and clasped her hands in anticipation. It took a heartbeat for recognition to fill Suga’s features as she looked down at its contents. Another for a dazed smile to light up her face.

"You didn't," she said in a whisper. 

“I–I ordered it a while back, i-it just–”

Suga had engulfed her in a hug before she could finish. Daichi hugged back, an exhale leaving her body as she did. In all her stress, she had only let herself hope for things to not backfire. She’d forgotten the original intention of getting the necklace in the first place. The original intention of choosing to love in silence. Of accepting the love, in whatever form, she received in return.

She just wanted Suga to be happy. 

Chapter Text

"Did you knowww?” Suga started in a sing-songy voice. 

Daichi hummed without looking up from her keyboard. 

The quaint little cafe, just off their campus, had become a frequent abode for them in the last legs of their submissions. The seat by the big glass panels that faced the street and let ample natural light in, did something to make the task feel less like endless drudgery. 

A few of their friends joined them every now and again. Oikawa had just left after getting frustrated with her data analysis. Daichi could sympathise, herself almost on the brink of a breakdown after not being able to recall a particular word she wanted to use for a solid half-hour and unable to move past it. 

“Next week is our six month anniversary,” Suga continued without waiting for Daichi’s full attention.

That made her finally look up.

“Of living together.” Suga supplied, with a pointed sweep of hands. 

Daichi frowned as she consulted her digital and then mental calendar. Sure enough, it really had been almost six months. She pictured the empty apartment they had moved into, and it felt like a different house altogether. All walls and echoes. Barely lived in. No signs of the furniture they’d nabbed from Shimizu’s collection, or the rug they’d gone to far too many charity shops to find. It had smelled like fresh paint and unsettled dust back then, now it just smelled mostly of nothing, like homes often did. Six months had felt too long and too short in the same breath. 

“That seems unreal.” 

“Right?”

Absently, Suga reached out for Daichi’s hand. Her fingers were playing around with Daichi’s while she gazed away contemplatively. “We should do something,” she said, quietly. 

Daichi looked back hesitantly. Even as things had smoothened out between them since Suga got her unexpected gift, Daichi couldn’t swallow the foreboding feeling that guzzled in her stomach since then. Sure, Suga had become less distant, the house had been less empty. But instead of reassuring her as it should have, it only served to affirm the gnawing feeling that she felt back then about being avoided. Even as normalcy floated its way back into their days, something about their last kiss felt harder to move on from. Daichi was yet to find a way to deal with it all.   

“Six months, huh?” Daichi rolled the words around her tongue like she’d forgotten how to speak. Like banter was suddenly a foreign language. “What’s six months? Paper?”

“Beach.”

“What?”

“ Beach, ” Suga’s eyes glinted. It took an embarrassing number of seconds for Daichi to process a singular syllable in the glare of Suga’s bright lopsided smile. 

Confusing her silence for hesitation, Suga pressed, “Let’s go. ”

“We’re literally in the middle of August,” Daichi huffed. 

“So?”

“The beach is like two hours away.” 

“That’s not that far!” Suga looked at Daichi with wide eyes, like she was being ridiculous. 

“It’s not close!” Daichi protested. Admittedly, she was less concerned about the travel time and probably a little more with what it would mean to spend time alone with Suga again, outside the bounds of their home. It was a little ridiculous. As if they didn’t already spend their days alone together. But there was a sense of safety when their lives revolved around other things, where their house operated from a mutual obligation to ensure comfort. And there were rooms to go back to when Suga held her gaze too long, excuses at the ready about why Daichi could not let herself stare back.

And it wasn’t like something was bound to happen just because it had. It was only twice. Even if Daichi had replayed their kisses a million times in her head, enough to feel like there had been more. But it had only been twice. And after last time, it was unlikely to happen ever again. Which was probably for the best. 

It was starting to wear at Daichi’s heart, to have been able to kiss Suga and not keep kissing her. To hold her, but not keep her. To have to hold herself back because what else do you do? What else do you do when you can’t let the extent of your desire see the light. Not when it seemed to come at the cost of everything. Suga’s suggestion had come with the sacred conviction that Daichi would understand the significance of their milestone. And she did. But also she hated herself a little for wanting to find a way out of it. 

"C’mon Daichi, please."

"Why can't we just go to a fancy dinner like normal people?" she responded, dabbling with a safer choice with an air of nonchalance. 

"A beach trip would be so much cheaper," Suga urged, her tone getting quieter and more serious. It made Daichi stiffen involuntarily. 

"Not if we dine and dash," she pointed out, uselessly. 

A pout began to round Suga’s mouth and it would’ve been hard to flinch away from it without being too obvious. She squeezed their intertwined hands and pulled them up until she could rest her chin on top of them. “Please? Come on.”

Daichi finally let herself sigh, “Suga–”

"We've barely hung out lately. It's been so long," she said wistfully, her voice infinitely softer now. Daichi squirmed in her seat, in the hold of their hands. 

And then, as it often did, Daichi felt her graham-cracker-conviction crumble to a quiet, dusty heap.

"Okay. Let's go."

"Really?" Suga sat up straight in cautious excitement. 

“Yeah, really,” Daichi heaved in dramatic resignation. 

Without meaning to, her lips curled upward, just a fraction. But it was enough for Suga to catch sight of. Sitting there, bathed in the afternoon sunlight and hands still clasped together, they smiled at each other for a quiet while. Everything else, momentarily forgotten. 

Coordinating their beach trip turned out to be a tricky affair. On the day in question, they both had classes they couldn’t miss and group work they needed to account for before they could leave. And Suga’s insistence that this could not be done on any other day gave them a very small window to travel to and fro and also spend some time there. By Daichi’s calculations, they were meant to leave by 1, if they hoped to have any quality time there. But it was well into 2 by the time Daichi was able to drag herself away from her useless group. To make matters worse, Suga was still in a meeting with her supervisor. 

Daichi almost thought about calling it off. But she could imagine in vivid detail how Suga’s face would fall if she brought it up. Daichi did not do well with unplanned changes to her schedule. She was already trying to mentally recalibrate their journey. They would likely only get two hours at the beach, with the last bus back being at 7. But that was only if they left now. Daichi paced outside Suga’s classroom like it would magically make her appear faster. 

By some miracle it worked, because Suga stepped out just in time.

“Okay,” she breathed in deeply, as if cueing for Daichi to imitate. Then, she grabbed Daichi’s hand, walking them rapidly out of the building. “I know we’re late. I already got us snacks from the vending machine so we won’t get hungry on the way. We’ll make it in plenty time. Two hours is enough, yes?”

“Yes.” Daichi mumbled. 

“We’ll have fun, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” Suga quipped as they walked out the door. Daichi tried not to turn red at the casual praise. 

By the time they boarded the bus, Daichi was still on edge. Suga, in her all-knowing ways, was rubbing her palm up and down Daichi’s arm. She sank into the warmth of the motion. Suga had taken charge of getting their tickets and finding their bus, letting Daichi follow blindly along to not worsen her anxiety. But every second that the bus didn’t move felt like a second more of rushing their stay. Daichi felt her heartbeat like a looming countdown. In an attempt to distract herself, she held her phone with white knuckled hands and glared at the navigation app.

Suga pulled out her wired headphones from her bag and fixed one of its earbuds into Daichi’s ear. 

“We’ll be there soon,” she assured, tapping Daichi’s chin playfully. 

“If we ever leave that is,” Daichi grumbled. “Why the fuck aren’t we moving?”

Suga just smiled in response, turning the music on instead. They’d spent much of last evening making a playlist for their journey, fighting over the songs that needed to be on there and the order they should be played in. They ended up choosing only songs that they both liked (meaning a lot of Chappell Roan).

As the bus finally started its course, Daichi gradually calmed down. But she didn’t stop obsessing over the bus route and the blue arrow on her navigation app. As the arrow progressed, she felt somewhat in control of the situation. Suga shook her head in amusement at that and squeezed Daichi’s hand.  

They made it in good time. A bit earlier than expected, in fact. They shuffled out of their seats on to the bus stop, stretching their limbs out. Daichi turned off Maps and pocketed her phone with a satisfied exhale. 

“Thank you for your service, Daichi-san. We’d never make it without you."

"Fuck off," Daichi muttered, but a smile tore out of her anyway. 

The screech of birds called to their attention and they turned towards the sea. They could see it from there, even though they still needed to walk a bit to a small seaside rest stop and go down a flight of stone steps to get there. But it was hard to think of worries as the sun bled golden into the water and the salty air filled their lungs. They only spared each other a quick glance before they ran their way down, tripping over each other with excitement. 

They were, by no means, the only ones on the beach but the weekday crowd was sparse enough to believe that they were. Daichi unzipped her bag and drew out a ratty picnic blanket, testing a dry patch of sand with her foot for debris. 

“Okay, let’s not forget that we need to get back by 7,” Daichi reminded for the third time.

“Really? What’s at 7?” 

Daichi shot up in disbelief, only to find Suga looking back with a smirk. 

“Hilarious.” Daichi deadpanned, rolling her eyes. “I should actually put an alarm–”

“Oh my godddd!” Suga groaned, grabbing the blanket from Daichi’s hand and shoving it back in the bag. Daichi followed her movements and then looked up in confusion. 

“We’re getting shaved ice. Let’s go!”  

“What’s your favourite memory of the beach?” Suga asked, scooping strawberry syrup from her nearly empty bowl and holding it up for Daichi, whose own bowl of caramel orange shaved ice had already been discarded. Daichi indulged the bite distractedly while looking for an answer. 

“There was this one time,” Daichi said, “It was before my bratty sister came along. My dad challenged me to a sand castle competition. But I was the only one with equipment, y’know the plastic shovel and tiny bucket thing you have? And he was only using his hands. He was so shit at it. He kept making it look like an anthill and I kept giggling and falling to the side about it. It was so funny to me. I think he just wanted to make me laugh, so he kept making it worse.” Daichi chuckled to herself, the force of the memory breaking it out of her. Suga looked at her with a bright smile, like she could see the memory play out on Daichi’s face. 

“He was so dramatic about losing too,” Daichi continued, “We made mom the judge. When she announced me the winner, he literally screamed ‘Nooo’ and fell to the ground.”

“So being a dork is genetic for you,” Suga bumped her shoulder with Daichi. “I’d never have guessed.”

Daichi gasped dramatically, holding a hand to her chest, “I’m a dork? You literally do calculus for fun!”

“That just makes me smart and mysterious,” Suga shrugged, chewing still on the plastic spoon.

Daichi tsked and pulled the spoon away from her with a wrinkled nose, “And gross, apparently."

Suga stuck her tongue out. It was stained a brighter pink from the syrup and Daichi’s gaze locked on it for a terrifying second. When she tore her eyes away, Suga was looking back at her. Breath caught in her throat, Daichi forced a cough to recover.

“What’s–uh, what’s yours?” Daichi asked. “Favourite beach memory, I mean.”

Suga blinked before she slipped back into thought, “Um, I don’t know if it's my favourite. But my most notable, I guess?”

“What is it?” Daichi prodded.

“My parents were..somewhere? I was playing on the beach with my cousins. I must’ve been, like 10, maybe. I don’t know why I still remember it so clearly,” Suga huffed. “But this woman, she walked out of the water, okay. And it really was like the movies. I swear she walked out in slow motion. She was gorgeous. She had this black swimsuit on and her hair was dripping water over her face. And she moved it out of the way so sexily,” Suga imitated an exaggerated sultry hair tuck. “That was the day I knew I was gay as fuck.”

“Oh my god, you little lesbian!” Daichi shoved Suga amusedly, laughing at the image of a little Suga, gaping stupidly. 

It wasn’t long before she was shoved in return, “Don’t judge me! I’m not the one who vowed to be a vegetarian over a two-day crush!” 

“Please,” Daichi held her hand up in mock-offense, “Aiko was the love of my second-grade life.”

“Dork,” Suga shot back. 

“Nerd.”

Daichi felt unbelievably light, as she settled back on the picnic blanket, propped up on her elbows. It had been a difficult month. For both of them. There had been too many unavoidable stressors, even for someone not in love with their roommate. She glanced at Suga, still sitting upright and looking out at the horizon. There was sand clinging to her arm and stupidly, Daichi couldn't take her eyes off it. In the dying light it shone like gold on her skin. It was fitting. Her silver hair and golden skin. And eyes all molten earth.

Suga kept gazing at the sea, her patent smile dim and fading like the sun. There was a private kind of satisfaction that Daichi felt, being able to see Suga like this. Something she knew not a lot of people got to see. Those rare moments when Suga didn't challenge you with her eye contact, keeping you captive in a way only she could. It was when Daichi could look at her most freely. And it still felt like barely permitted exploration. 

Suga's hand tapped on Daichi’s thigh, flitting around, asking to be held. Daichi put it to rest, squeezing their palms into each other and intertwining their fingers together. She understood it well, Suga’s need to always hold on to her somehow. She’d never been one for physical affection, but it felt natural with Suga. To be seeking out and be sought in return. Daichi barely let herself confront her feelings on most days, yet she remained grateful to have this. This purposive gravity and the comfortable silence that often surrounded it. 

Suddenly, Suga got up and pulled Daichi along. She walked towards the sea, dragging Daichi with her. 

"Suga!"

The sun was at its most orange now, bathing them in a hue that made everything look a little fantastical, a little more unreal. 

Suga didn’t respond. Daichi tugged at her arm, in a flailing attempt to either stop her or to slow her enough to catch up. But she walked right into the water. She didn't acknowledge Daichi in her tow. Not till they were almost in knee-deep. Daichi didn’t know what she should be bracing herself for, but she got the impression she should. For something. 

Before she could get around to it, Suga turned and kissed her without warning.

For a few seconds all Daichi could feel was warm, salty lips on hers and the roaring of the waves. Like being kissed by the sea herself. The quickest of swallows, the kindest of drownings. Daichi was swept away and unable to move.

Suga pulled away to rest her forehead against Daichi's and quietly asked, "Anniversary kiss?" It was barely audible. A whisper of permission and exoneration. Daichi, still frozen, managed a single nod. Despite herself, unable to bear the thought of being washed ashore.

The waves overtook her again, lapping and stealing. Filling up her stomach and taking root there. Carving ravines and marking their path for now and every coming season of rain. If Daichi had any sense of herself, she would've noticed how they fell into each other with practiced ease. A little bolder, a little more demanding. Daichi didn’t notice her hands, trying to fight with every piece of fabric sticking to Suga's body pushing, pushing till skin met skin. 

Through her own heartbeat, she didn't catch Suga pressing back against her clawing fingers, damp giving way to their shared heat. She didn't hear Suga punctuating each kiss with her name. Daichi was lost to the siren call of her mouth. Of Suga’s scent enveloping her once more. Daichi’s teeth pulled at Suga’s lips and she preened at the shiver it brought out of her. Suga’s hand tugged at Daichi’s hair and she wanted to speak the truth into the kiss. To tell her that she never wanted it to stop. And why. Daichi wrapped her hands around Suga, unable to let go. She'd thought this was never going to happen again. She had thought this was over. But maybe they could find another way. Maybe there were other excuses to be found. As long as Suga kept finding them and offering them up to Daichi. She would keep drifting and drifting and–

Suga broke away abruptly. It took a while for Daichi to realise she was being pulled back ashore.

Raining. It was raining.

The sky seemed so much darker than it was a few minutes ago. Had it been minutes? Hours? Daichi looked to the sky and then at Suga as she gathered their blanket and bags, and gestured to Daichi to hurry. Daichi followed her up the stairs and then screeched to a halt at the landing. Suga ducked under the rest-stop porch, on hand over head. But Daichi noticed the clock hanging somewhere on the wall behind her. It glowed eerily red in the sudden dark. It blinked 7:10. 

They’d missed their bus. 

All at once, realisation hit Daichi like a ton of bricks. Awareness crawled back into her skin like an active livewire. And with it came a blinding ache in the middle of her chest. She sank to the ground as the rain beat down on her. 

“Daichi, what are you doing?” Suga screamed from somewhere far away. It felt far away. 

It had happened again. And Daichi did nothing to stop it. She let herself get carried away. Resigned to whatever came after. Even if it hurt. And hurt it did. Daichi felt carved out from the whiplash of sensation. And now they were stranded. 

“Daichi!” Suga sounded much closer now. She felt her hands try to pull her up. Daichi drew away from them. 

"We missed it." she said quietly. 

"What?"

"We missed our bus," Daichi snapped, rising from her position sharply. Suga winced, looking at Daichi like she couldn’t recognise her. Daichi ran her hands through her hair, a cocktail of hurt and anger boiling through her veins. She didn’t try to keep the accusation out of her voice, "I told you we had to reach the bus stop on time." 

It was still raining down heavily and Daichi made no move to seek shelter.

"There might still be another bus," Suga tried again, trying to sound unaffected. Almost cheerful. 

"No there isn't. What about last bus don't you fucking understand?" Daichi snapped again. Suga recoiled from her. Taking a few steps away like she didn't want to catch whatever Daichi was exuding. "I told you we had to be there on time. But you don't listen. You just had to-"

She stopped mid-sentence. Suga looked like she'd been slapped. Her features rearranging from caution to hurt and then into coldness. Daichi clenched her fists to tamper her outburst. It was the full fire of unfair anger she knew was unfair. Daichi knew she didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. Not having kept track of time herself. Not having stopped another kiss she knew would hurt her. She kept getting pulled into Suga. Kept losing control. It wasn't Suga's fault. She didn’t know what it meant to Daichi. 

Except who else was there to blame. 

“Let’s–uh, let’s head to the bus stop,” Daichi sputtered, a weak attempt. 

She started walking without waiting for Suga, without checking to see if she was coming. She felt a familiar kind of shame wrap its way around her. This was exactly what she had wanted to avoid. Her feelings getting the best of her. Throwing a tantrum like she was a toddler in the grocery aisle, kicking and screaming for the thing they wanted. And couldn’t have. It was pathetic. She was pathetic.

Daichi should have been thankful, when they reached the bus stop and their bus was still standing there. Apparently made late by the very rain that was supposed to have left them stranded. But she only felt an ugly, oily coat of regret. It was fitting punishment, she thought. 

She heard footsteps come up behind her but Suga walked past her, right into the bus with swift ferocity. And Daichi knew it wasn't punishment enough.

In the endless sea, their closeness had been magnetic. They had felt indistinguishable from each other. Achingly miscible. Like dissolving like. But in this small cramped bus, the few inches between them felt like a world of distance. Like they were ripped apart to two different timelines. Like if Daichi dared to reach out with anxious fingers and touch Suga's dimension, she could inadvertently break the earth and its only moon for her indulgence. 

For the entire fluorescent hour and a half, Suga looked out the window as if it was the only thing that existed. Daichi only peeped a little. Not that she still needed stolen visual cues to know that Suga didn't turn to her even once. Daichi’s body was far too attuned to Suga's gaze to not have been able to tell.

They were still soaked through. The bus was warm enough, thankfully. Not enough to dry them off but enough to not freeze. Daichi found herself imagining how they would've been going back, should've been going back. If everything that happened did not happen. Suga would have insisted on leaning against her even through the dampness. Daichi would have put up a fight for a solid two minutes before caving. Their playlist would’ve continued where it left off. The silence would’ve been the same, perhaps, but it would’ve been infused instead with quiet comfort. And the growing awareness of sand in its many, many places would have felt a little less like a nightmare.

Daichi stared at the cracking leather of the seat next to her across the aisle, just to have something to do. Somewhere to look. If she was someone else, Daichi might have questioned why she was so unable to come up with something to say. It felt inadequate but also unbearably unfair to offer an apology. In the pit of her stomach, the motives of her earlier anger still coiled. But they had to be silenced. It was like she was split in two. One part of her reeling with hurt, a near thing to betrayal. The other part, rusting with shame over her outburst. If she was someone else, she’d admit to why she was hurt and ashamed. It was the easiest explanation, the truth. There were barely any other justifications that could hold up. But because Daichi was Daichi, she would not say. 

Her numbness made her bones feel like lead as they walked up to their apartment. She tried to stall at the door, hand hovering over the lock in hopes that it wouldn’t budge. Like that would solve anything. Even if all it could do was make Suga push her aside and say "I'll do it," so Daichi would have something break the spell of silence. It would give her something to gauge. To turn over in her mind for the rest of the night. But luck, and her own muscle memory, would not let her have it.

Suga shoved past her, into her room, before Daichi could even switch on the lights. As the house awoke from its darkness, Suga's door slammed shut. Futilely, Daichi tried to wipe her shoes of sand. No matter how many times she dragged her foot across the bristly welcome mat, it came up dirty. There was always more sand. There seemed to be sand everywhere, more grains dripping from her with every added movement. Daichi bit her wobbling lip against the sobs rising up her chest, eyes prickling as a little desert formed around her right at the threshold of her house.

With no sign of water for miles.

Chapter Text

"So what? We're just never gonna talk about it, is that it?"

Suga stilled in her tracks. Daichi froze in her own spot. Neither of them had expected this bluntness. Not from her. 

When she spent the night tossing and turning in her bed, this had not been her plan. In fact, there wasn’t much of a plan at all. For the better part of the night, she couldn’t bring herself to stop crying. She lay curled up on her bed and blinked away hot tears under her blanket. Despite the safety of her room, she felt it only dignified to cry silently, to muffle herself against her pillow till she felt sore. An ugly mess of hurt, guilt, and residual anger flushed through her veins. Every emotion became a pulse of its own, needing its righteous time in the sun.

Going through the motions of this rollercoaster settled a heavy fatigue in her, feeling almost beyond her years. She tried to grasp at straws of logic but it had nothing to show for itself. Just the shattering sense of the world collapsing onto itself and the fugue of adrenaline aftershocks. 

And towering above them all, right in the gash of her throat, she felt the inkling of oncoming abandonment. 

Suga would leave her. It was over. 

Everything that Daichi had tried to avoid, thrown back in her face so gracelessly. Like it was inevitable. Like they had always come with an expiration date. But that thought was unacceptably painful. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what her life would look like without Suga. But once that feeling caught hold of her, there was no getting rid of it. 

She had always been able to feel Suga’s presence at the other end of the house. She used to take meek pleasure in it, even if it was mostly of her own making. She clenched her eyes shut against it now. Trying not to shape it like Suga planning her escape. Her doing a mental inventory of the things she would need for the next few days to crash at Oikawa’s while she looked for another place to live. And Daichi would not be able to stop her. Wouldn’t be able to tell her why she had acted the way she did that day. Hours and hours of feverish contemplation and she couldn’t come up with a single reason outside of the truth. Did she even deserve it? The perfectly acceptable lie, whatever it was? 

Briefly, she thought about texting Asahi. Her best friend would be on her way home, at this time. But there it was again, the sharp lasso of shame pulling her back before she could reach out. Asahi had told her to tell Suga. To be honest with her. And it had seemed just as impossible then, than it did now. How could Daichi allow it, after all this time of keeping up appearances?  

She pulled up an old text conversation instead. Even though it felt too distant, the version of her whose life didn’t hinge on the answer to the question. 

Daichi

why can’t i tell her the truth, Asahi?

Asahi

you can, you just haven’t.  

Daichi 

what if it changes everything between us?

Asahi  

isn’t that the point? 

Morning had crawled its way up, behind her back. Daichi wouldn’t have even realised, had she not heard movement in the living room. Padded feet walking into the kitchen, the fridge door opening, the clatter of a mug on the counter. 

She knew, without even seeing, that it was the unicorn mug that belonged to Suga. She knew, without seeing, that the glugging sound that followed meant Suga was having orange juice. It was something she did after a night of crying. Daichi had seen it enough before. After her one big fight with Oikawa; when the papers she worked hard on kept getting rejected from journals of repute. Daichi had been by her side for it all. 

But now, Daichi was the one responsible for it. 

The rehydration ritual was Suga’s mom’s old trick to make sure she didn’t cry herself into a headache, as she was wont to do. Now, she had to resort to it again because Daichi was too much of a coward.  And yet, here she was, still on the hunt for the right words before even attempting to apologise. Like that even mattered. 

Daichi was on her feet before she even realised, sobering up in record time, only to feel the stab of guilt rush its way back when her eyes landed on Suga. She looked miserable, leaning against the counter, eyes puffy and dead as she looked up. Daichi felt like she was staring at someone else entirely. 

“Hi,” Daichi started in half a daze, voice scratchy with a combination of disuse and the events of the night.

“Hi,” Suga responded quietly, with the hint of a sad smile. She turned abruptly, opening the fridge and peering into it. Like an attempt to hide. “Do you want toast?” 

After a beat, Daichi replied with a hesitant, “Sure.” Suga’s voice was so quiet. Daichi couldn't tell if it was in keeping with their morning rule or for some other reason, but it broke her heart just the same. She pushed the next words out of her mouth with brute force, “Suga... I'm–I’m really sorry.”

Suga was still facing away from her, fumbling with their toaster with tense shoulders. Daichi held her breath as she stared at Suga's back. When she finally turned, a strained smile had taken over her face.

"No. I, uh–you were right.” Her voice was a touch louder now, insincerely upbeat. Suga looked right at Daichi with seeming effort. “I did get carried away," she punctuated with a hollow laugh. 

Daichi frowned, blinking in time with her thoughts. She had never seen that smile on Suga, never heard that tone. It put Daichi in the dark about what Suga was thinking. What she was trying to convey. When did she become bad at reading Suga?

“What are you saying?” Daichi asked quietly, sounding a little reproachful without trying.

"I'm saying it's fine," Suga pressed, smile becoming tighter by the second. "It's us, right?" she shrugged. 

Daichi fell back a step, looking around the room in a hopeless bid to stop her tears from resurfacing. The echo of her own desperate dismissal hit her like a slap in the face. 

“But it's not,” Daichi started, in a dismal croak. It wasn't fine. This wasn't not them. 

“I'll, uh-I’ll go freshen up, actually,” Suga sputtered, in barely concealed panic. “Don't worry about it, okay?” she coaxed over her shoulder, already moving away.

“So what? We're just never gonna talk about it, is that it?"

Suga stilled in her tracks. Daichi froze in her own spot. Neither of them had expected this bluntness. Not from her. Daichi, who avoided any real conflict like a plague. Daichi, who rarely asked, only inferred. Like astute observation was a language of its own. Never like now, when her voice demanded confrontation. Whatever be the cost. 

The shock was naked on Suga's face. But her calm façade was withering away to look almost acidic. Despite herself, Daichi felt something like relief and smug satisfaction from being able to provoke a reaction from Suga at last. 

“So it's my fault now?” Suga spat. “Last I checked, your closest attempt to talk about it was by yelling at me.” 

Daichi huffed a bitter laugh. Anger swiftly taking over her own logic, she became a throb of pure feeling once again. “If you're so much better at this, then do it. Do it, instead of running away.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Suga snapped. 

“Don't lie to me, Suga,” Daichi hissed through gritted teeth. 

Suga narrowed her eyes with a scowl. Daichi got a vague sense she was stalling. Daichi had nowhere to be. She'd wait for what Suga had to say. To hear what she'd dreaded for so long, like it was the only thing that could set them free. Maybe it would, who knew. Daichi felt oddly unafraid of rejection at that moment. A fate somehow more acceptable than Suga's dispassion. 

But then, for the third time today, Suga turned to move away from her. And Daichi had just about had enough. She grabbed Suga's hand before she could move further, pulling her to herself with miscalculated force. Instead of serving to stop her escape, Suga’s back hit Daichi's chest and they stood now, in the middle of their living room, tucked against each other. Panting a little from their brief scuffle. 

It was their proximity that alerted Daichi to the hiccupping tremors that jolted through Suga's body. As they rose disconcertingly, Suga didn't try to hide the sob that tore through the room, crumpling against Daichi with loose limbs. 

“You're so cruel,” she whispered.

Daichi felt burned by the words. As if finally gaining awareness of herself, she let go of her grip on Suga's hand and the other that had come around her waist. But unlike all those other times today, Suga didn't move away. Like that wasn't what she was talking about at all.

“I know–” Suga sniffled, her voice barely audible. “I know you don't love me like I love you. But do you have to be so cruel?” she pleaded. 

Everything in Daichi's brain ground to a halt. 

“What?” she blurted out stupidly. With its little remaining function, her mind only replayed four words in rapid succession.

Like I love you.

Like I love you.

Like I love you.  

Suga shook her head in response, asserting sharply, “Don’t.”

Daichi's mouth hung open but words kept failing her. The room was spinning a bit now and Daichi swayed back a little with it. Trembling in her own right, she placed her hand slowly back on Suga’s waist and turned her around. Suga didn’t look up, eyes fixed on her hands as they twisted and untwisted with each other. Daichi’s gaze focused on her eyelashes, beading up with quiet tears now. For someone so close to getting everything she had wanted, Daichi was surprisingly out of her depth. 

In all her years of yearning, Daichi had never prepared herself to be loved by Suga. She’d never considered it, not in any real way. And she had never, ever imagined herself to be the one holding them back. It rose a bubble of laughter out of her throat, the ridiculousness of the thought. She gathered Suga’s face in her hand, still disbelieving. 

Suga looked up then. The wrenched lines on her face eased a little from whatever she saw on Daichi’s face. But she said nothing. There were probably no words. Maybe there never were. Nothing verbal could ever cut through the electric space between them right now. There was only gravity. There was only falling.

Daichi made sure this time. She made sure to be the one to kiss first. 

And Suga rewarded her by unravelling instantly, melting into her arms like a long-kept exhale. 

For the first time, Daichi let her lips do their bidding. She cupped Suga’s jaw to taste her fully, pulling her into her mouth. Her hands inched their way up into Suga’s hair and then pushed them against the nearest wall, suddenly overcome with the need to mold herself into Suga. Her thumb dug into Suga’s hip, keeping her in place with gentle pressure. Suga made no move to stray, chasing after her lips deftly, unrelentingly. Daichi couldn’t help biting her lower lip, a futile attempt at gaining the upper hand. She pushed back at Suga’s shoulders, tingling all over. Daichi wanted all of her. It felt impossible, now, to settle for anything less. Through a hot breath, she kissed Suga once, briefly, and with her forehead leaned against her she made herself say it. 

“I love you,” Daichi whispered against her cheek. And another kiss. 

“I love you,” she kissed into her neck.

“I love you,” she traced on her collarbone. 

She broke away to hold Suga’s face once more, no longer scared by their closeness. She brushed her nose against Suga’s, nuzzling closer like any distance could shatter the words, and said, “There is no world where I don’t love you, Suga.” 

Suga’s eyes, still puffy but with none of the tired resignation of before, pooled with emotion and Daichi made sure to catch the tears before they could fall. It felt important, sacred to slow herself down for this moment. The sudden intimacy made them both shiver against each other. Daichi didn’t realise she was crying, till Suga brushed her cheek softly. It felt like a release. Saying the words out loud. Finally. Finally. Daichi kissed Suga’s wrist, and then the heart of her palm soothingly. It ended up having the opposite effect, and another sob wracked through Suga. 

“I waited so long for you,” she breathed.  

Daichi didn’t need to pause this time, didn’t need to think this time. She brought their hands to her chest and said, “I’ll never make you wait again.”

Only later would Daichi realise why it was the only response that would've been right. In the process of hiding her feelings for Suga she had somehow made her believe that she didn’t love her. There was no apology that could surmise in the face of that. Not for the person she loved most, the person who was most precious to her. So, instead of sorrys, she did the more terrifying thing. She made a promise. What else could she promise to the most beautiful girl in the world, but everything.

isn’t that the point?

It didn’t take long for their kisses to turn hungrier. A release of a different kind, now that everything they had kept secret broke out into the open. Daichi felt wild under her skin. Her hand trailed down Suga’s thigh and pulled it up, wrapping it around herself as she kissed her way down her neck. She could easily get addicted to the sounds of assent as she allowed herself to be rougher with Suga, with each passing moan. She pushed away from the wall, using the force to pick Suga up in her arms. Suga yelped in surprise but latched on to her with little hesitation. With her face flushed red and eyes comically wide, Daichi chuckled at her, a little too satisfied. Suga gasped a quiet, “shut up!” before she took over her mouth again. 

Daichi thanked her muscle memory silently, as they made their way to her room with minimum bumps. There was very little grace in the way she dropped Suga onto the bed and climbed on top of her. Their urgency showed clearly in the way they were grabbing whatever they could. Groping under hemlines and waistbands and folds of skin. Between unyielding buttons and searing wetness. Hands roaming with memorization that didn't have to keep tasting like goodbyes. Greedy. Greedy. Greedy.

Before today, kissing was always some sort of game between them. Always kissing as a guise for something else entirely. In the guise of everything but. 

Let’s dance. 

Try kicking me now. 

Anniversary kiss? 

Plausible deniability etched into each other's mouths. Wandering hands always aware to not breach the line. Never really knowing if this was the only time. The last time. Or if there was room for just one more. Daichi could never bring herself to press for more. Whatever Suga wanted. Whatever she wanted. 

Daichi had long since convinced herself that it was enough. That it was fine. But right now, as her hands were allowed to drift anywhere on the lawless land of Suga's body, she forgot why those reasons were ever good enough. Why she only let herself follow suit.

With Suga urging her closer, Daichi felt less and less compelled to hold herself back. She felt drunk off of Suga. Her mouth, her smell, her skin. It felt familiar and yet nothing like any of their kisses. Any of their lingering touches. Suga was all teeth and tongue just like she had learned all those weeks ago but she was also demanding and pliant. And so deliciously loud. Daichi loved her. She loved her like it was the only thing she knew to do. 

And for the first time in forever, she felt what it was like to be loved in return.

When they laid next to each other afterwards, spent in each other's arms, Daichi felt the unavoidable itch to press her hands to all the hickeys blooming over the column of Suga's neck, and everywhere beyond. They spread out like bruising constellations. It was easy to indulge in it now, tracing their shapelessness. Especially because it kept making Suga giggle. As if any constellation could hold up against that. 

With Suga’s head buried against her chest, Daichi felt a little bigger than herself. Like she was held together by more than just flesh and bone. 

"I can't believe I could have had this all this time," Daichi murmured, to herself more than anything.

Suga looked at her through her lashes, barely pausing her fingers from their senseless doodling up and down Daichi’s arm. 

"Why didn't you say anything?" There was no accusation in her voice, but Daichi could sense the sadness there. She felt it like a pinch in her chest. 

"I thought…" Daichi trailed off. 

"What?"

“Ithoughtyoujustwantedtobefriends,” Daichi mumbled into her arm.

“What?” 

"I thought you just wanted to be friends." 

Suga shot up with a huff. She looked down at Daichi with the most incredulous look on her face, half-propped up on her elbow.  

"Daichi,” she started, with a mixture of amusement and waning patience. “I kissed you, not once, not twice, but THRICE and you thought this was platonic?"

Daichi could feel the blush heating up her face. She shrugged, refusing the eye contact Suga’s gaze demanded, and turned her attention instead to the loose threads on her pillow. 

“Daichi!”

"You're very affectionate, okay!" Daichi shot back in defense.

Suga’s eyes grew wider at that and she let out a disbelieving scoff, "Yeah! With you!" 

"Not just with me!” Daichi rose to her elbows as well, her voice getting higher in pitch for some reason. “You're even like this with Oikawa."

"So you think I kiss Oikawa?"

"I don't know, okay! I just didn't want to misread things and make things weird."

"Oh sure.” Suga was fully sat up now, her arms crossed and everything. It took trained ears to catch the playfulness in her tone. “That must be why you misread things and made things weird!" 

Daichi groaned out loud. “Must I bear this cross forever?”

“Of course you must!” Suga retorted, smacking at Daichi’s bare shoulder. “You made me think that you were just going along with me because we were friends.”

“Were? Past tense?” Daichi gasped dramatically.

Suga rolled her eyes, ducking her chin to hide her smile. But Daichi grabbed the opportunity. 

"So, are you my girlfriend now?"

Suga was fully smiling now, her cheeks pink like Daichi had never seen before. "I don’t know, are you asking?" 

Unable to contain her own smile, Daichi reached for Suga’s hand and laced them together. "Yes, I’m asking,” she said with sincerity. “Will you be my girlfriend?"

Suga’s face softened, fondness dancing on her lips. 

But then a teasing glance passed her expression as she tapped her finger against her cheek contemplatively. "Hmm, I'll have to think about it.” She shook her head with pursed lips, “I’ll have to consult with my other friends. Who I kiss. To make sure they're okay with it, you know?"

"Oh my godddd!"

"You're never living this down," Suga informed her brightly, finally leaning down and resting her face on Daichi’s stomach. 

"Don't tell Oikawa," Daichi begged hopelessly. 

"I’m definitely telling her everything," Suga cackled, with no mercy. 

"She already hates me," Daichi whined. 

“She doesn’t–” Suga started, but on Daichi’s flat look she conceded, “Okay maybe a little bit. But that’s not gonna stop me from spilling the beans.”

Daichi sighed as audibly as she could, looking up at the ceiling in mock disappointment. “And what will you tell her?”

Suga’s fond expression returned then, but she bit her lower lip to conceal her smile. "I'll tell her my girlfriend is an idiot."

It was Daichi’s turn to duck her head into her chest but a giggle escaped her anyway, "Hehe, okay."

"Oh so now you’re okay with it, are you?"

"Yes."

"You're such a loser!" Suga laughed. Then she leaned closer and kissed her again. 

Daichi revelled in the casualness of the movement now. The ability to kiss Suga without having to erase it. Without having to minimise it even as it happened. A shiver of thrill went down her spine that was about more than just the pressure of Suga's mouth against her. Somewhere in the drifting thoughts lost in Suga, Daichi realised that there was no reason now, to have to keep her feelings buried. From Suga and also from herself. There would be too many witnesses, it seemed, to even attempt that anymore. 

Her walls would remember their sounds, the mixture of passion and shared laughter. Her sheets would trap their scent, more so than ever before. Their clothes would still lie on her floor, for a while at least. Her mattress would have the faintest indent of another person besides herself. Daichi would be unquestionably marked with the evidence of Suga's mouth and her teeth, a retribution that Daichi didn’t try to stop. 

But more than anything else, there'd be Suga herself, still here in the morning without needing another excuse. Without needing to plan an escape route neither of them wanted to take. 

And Daichi would finally have all the reasons in the world to hold her, and kiss her, and love her. Because she could. Because she was Suga’s girlfriend. Because Suga loved her. Because. Because. Because. And then, she could do it all over again. For no reason at all.