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[Shigeo]
Are you awake? The answer is no. Or, more accurately, was no. It was the ping of his phone that dragged Teru out of his sleep in the first place, and the fumbling it took to snatch the phone from the side table only roused him further. He can hear the pitter-patter of rain against the rooftop outside his small, empty apartment, drowned out every so often by a round of thunder.He squints against the light of his screen until his eyes adjust, and it’s only after he’s checked the time (2:34am, Saturday) that he drags his fingers across the keyboard to form an eligible response. [Teruki]
I am now. What’s up? [Shigeo]
Did I wake you up? Teru’s first instinct is to lie, to tell him that, nah, I’ve been up for a while, working on homework and stuff you know, but he isn’t even finished writing all the out before he backtracks and changes his mind. He knows Shigeo doesn’t like it when he’s lied to, and Teru doesn’t want to break any trust he’s built with the boy.Plus, he has no doubt Shigeo would scold him for being up so late (early, rather, but same difference), so he decides that honesty is the best way to go.
[Teruki]
Ah, yeah, but it’s no big deal really. Promise.
Did you need something? What’s the matter?
[Shigeo]
I just checked the clock.
I’m sorry.No, no, that’s not what Teru hoped for. He sits up and flicks on the lamp with one hand, the other hand tapping away at a response. Another crash of thunder rolls through the sky, and it’s followed by an even heavier rainfall—one so heavy that it sounds like someone is dumping buckets and buckets worth of broken glass all across the rooftops. [Teruki]
Nono, Shigeo, don’t apologize. I have a hard time sleeping through storms anyway, I would’ve woken up sooner or later. [Shigeo]
I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone. [Teruki]
No, don’t. Shigeo don’t.
If you wanna talk then I’m here to talk, alright? It’s okay.There’s a long silence on Shigeo’s end. Teru considers calling him before realizing that that would be utterly pointless; besides, if Shigeo doesn’t respond to his texts there’s no way he would answer a phone call from him. He’s just about to call it quits (or hell, maybe he’d run over to the Kageyama residence himself just to check on him), when there’s a new message on his screen. [Shigeo]
I’m standing outside your apartment. Teru blinks long and hard at the phone.And then he practically breaks his arms and legs simultaneously in his haste to spring out of the bed and scramble across the room towards the door. Some flailing and fumbling later, and he’s managed to grab ahold of the knob, unlock it, and swing it wide.True to the message, there’s Shigeo standing on the porch, dripping wet from head to toe, head turned down and thick, soaked hair blocking his eyes from Teru’s sight. He’s wearing a hoodie—his pink one, he wears it the most of all his hoodies—but it seems to be doing more harm than good now, waterlogged and baggy and clinging to his skin, driving up Shigeo’s shivering.Shigeo’s hand moves stiffly, shakily, and Teru makes out the word, Sorry. His hand is trembling.It’s now that Teru realizes he’s been standing there, staring dumbly, instead of doing what any decent person would in this situation.“No, no, don’t,” Teru says immediately, reaching out and taking Shigeo by the shoulder. “Please, come in—oh my god you’re freezing, Shigeo—”Shigeo barely moves and Teru pulls him inside, slamming the door shut behind them and sliding the locks back into place. Shigeo is soaked, trembling violently, breath coming in shaky gasps, and Teru is mentally kicking himself for not finding him sooner. Sorry, Shigeo says again. His shaking hasn’t died down even somewhat, and Teru knows it won’t until they’ve managed to get him into some warm, dry clothes.Teru taps Shigeo on the chin in an urge to raise his head, and once their eyes have met—bloodshot and teary to Teru’s soft gaze—Teru smiles at him and lifts a hand into Shigeo’s line of sight. It’s okay, he promises. You’re still shaking. You can borrow some of my clothes. Come on. Teru doesn’t even wait for Shigeo to kick off his shoes. He winds an arm around Shigeo’s shoulders and guides him, dripping clothes and all, into the apartment and to the bathroom. He leaves him there and retreats into his bedroom to find a pair of comfortable clothes that he can change into.There’s still the glaring question of why Shigeo is here at all, let alone at this time of night, but Teru puts that out of his mind for the time being. That doesn’t matter; there’s time for that later; right now he needs to get Shigeo warm and dry before he catches a cold or something.He snags a hoodie and some sweatpants before returning to the bathroom. Shigeo is sitting on the closed toilet seat, still working on getting his shoes off. Teru does not like how violent the tremors are, or how stiff Shigeo’s movements are. Shigeo has always been a bit tenser than most people, but not stiff. Not like this. Teru deposits the bundle of clothes on the bathroom counter and waves a hand in Shigeo’s line of sight as he approaches. Shigeo turns and blinks at him slowly, not quite there, and with a quick, I’ll help, Shigeo releases his shoelaces and lets Teru finish untying them. Once his shoes and socks are off, Teru rises to his feet again, this time pointing Shigeo to the clothes on the counter. You should change quickly, Teru says, keeping his movements as loose and lighthearted as he can. You don’t want to get— Shigeo sneezes. If not for the severity of the situation and the nagging fear in the back of Teru’s mind, he might’ve called it cute.As it is, though, Shigeo rounds his shoulders to curl in further on himself, and Teru sighs heavily and drapes a towel over his soaked hair.Teru had been concerned about how stiff Shigeo was, but it seems that he was just extremely cold and wet and miserable. Now, having exchanged his sopping wet clothes for warm dry ones, he’s nestled quite comfortably against Teru’s side as the two of them sit back against the headboard of the bed, a shared blanket wrapped tight around their shoulders.Teru is relieved that he isn’t shivering anymore, or as stiff as before, but that doesn’t change the panic he’d felt upon finding Shigeo on his porch like that. He doesn’t want it to happen like that ever again. You could’ve texted me before you came all the way here, Teru says once a comfortable silence has fallen between them and he’s sure Shigeo has stopped shivering. (Finally.)Shigeo flinches, looking down at his hands in his lap, but Teru smiles and knocks their shoulders together lightly. Just let me know next time, he says. I’ll meet you with an umbrella. Shigeo turns wide eyes toward him as though Teru had said something completely unheard of, and Teru can’t help but laugh bubbly and ruffle Shigeo’s still-damp hair. It sticks up at odd angles afterward and Shigeo looks even more confused. I’m not upset, Teru says. But I’m wondering why you came to begin with. Now Shigeo turns away, snapping his gaze from Teru’s and staring down at his hands in his lap instead. Teru doesn’t push him—pushing Shigeo is never the right thing to do—and just like he knew he would, at long last, Shigeo begins to answer. Nothing felt real, Shigeo says softly, movements so small that they’re barely there at all. I tried drawing. I tried music. I tried studying. I couldn’t make it go away. Teru takes this in slowly, nodding just to show that he understands. What about your family? Shigeo still won’t look at him. Not there. Ritsu’s with a friend. Mom and Dad went out for the weekend. “Ah,” Teru murmurs, breathing long and deep. That’s. Difficult. He takes some time to think about what to say, what to do, wondering if the solutions he comes up with are right or wrong—but then he reminds himself that he knows Shigeo, that they’ve been friends for a long time now. He can trust himself with this.He nudges Shigeo’s hand with his own to get his attention, and then, Do you want ramen? Tea? Shigeo nods almost right away, and Teru leaves him with the blanket and heads into the tiny kitchen to prepare it.“Cup ramen is nice sometimes,” Teru says just for the sake of saying something, stirring around his cup ramen with his chopsticks as he speaks. Their mugs of tea sit on the side table, and Shigeo is slurping away at his own cup noodles. “I’d offer soda, but it’s probably pretty flat by now.” The tea is nice, Shigeo says one-handedly, around the chopsticks pinched between his fingers. He isn’t great at reading lips; the fact that he’s still terrible at reading people is a large block in his way; but he’s become decent at it, decent enough to get the basic gist of what Teru had said.They eat the rest of their ramen in silence, and once the cups are empty and only the tea remains, Teru leaves Shigeo again to sip on it while he heads to the closet and digs around in it for a bit. He can feel Shigeo’s eyes bearing into his back—right before he hears two deliberate knocks against the table.“Yeah?” he says, glancing over his shoulder. Shigeo does nothing more than give a puzzled look and point at him with a single chopstick. “Oh, you’ll see.”Shigeo tilts his head, but Teru pretends not to notice and goes straight back to searching, until he’s found what he was looking for. He waits a moment simply for dramatic effect, then pulls it from the closet and swings around so Shigeo can see.Shigeo’s eyes blow wide and Teru beams at him, holding out the guitar case with pride. “Whaddya think?” Teru asks rhetorically, stepping over to the bed and setting the case at the foot of it. “I haven’t been playing for very long and I’m terrible at it, but…”He trails off because he decides it doesn’t matter. Shigeo leans forward curiously, blanket pulled tight around his shoulders, and Teru undoes the clasps and lifts the lid. The guitar is a mahogany brown with a single sticker on its body, one depicting a cartoon-styled cat with a brilliant smile.A glance at Shigeo and Teru sees his eyes shine like never before, curious, interested, excited, and Teru lifts the guitar from its case and moves to sit beside Shigeo on the bed again, careful not to bonk him with the neck or body of the instrument. Shigeo moves accordingly, scooting back and nestling into Teru’s side again like before, and while Teru does find it a bit awkward to hold the guitar with him pressed so close, he doesn’t complain.Teru takes Shigeo’s hand and presses his palm to the body of the guitar, just beside the strap. Shigeo blinks first at his hand and then up at Teru, and Teru responds with a smile. Feeling, Teru says single-handedly. You said nothing felt real. Maybe this will? Shigeo turns his gaze downwards again, focused on his hand, and Teru takes that as an okay to start playing. He moves his fingers down the neck of the guitar to where they need to be, debates whether it’s worth it to get up and grab a pick, then decides no to that and begins to strum.He makes so many mistakes that he’s practically cringing all throughout it, but Shigeo’s hand doesn’t move from the body of the guitar, and within no time at all, he doesn’t seem as tense anymore, either. It occurs to Teru that Shigeo can’t actually hear the melody (it’s easy to forget that he’s deaf, sometimes), and once he has that revelation, he strums more confidently, adding more pressure to the strings to amplify the volume and, in turn, the vibrations.Teru plays until he stops thinking about it, until it becomes as natural a thing as breathing, as natural as Shigeo’s weight against his side, his head on his shoulder. He finds himself focusing on the vibrations of the music, Shigeo’s hand against the guitar, the still-tousled state of his hair, the moonlight reflected in his maroon eyes. It’s subtle, but when Teru gazes long enough and carefully enough, he’s able to pick that color out of his irises. It’s as soft as Shigeo is, gentle and mild and near impossible to make out, but perfect in every way.Teru doesn’t realize he’d been dozing off until Shigeo beats him to it and his head becomes a heavier weight on Teru’s shoulder and his hand slips from the guitar. Teru jolts awake, and his hands halt mid-song, but a glance at Shigeo’s sleeping, peaceful face, no longer tight with strain or wet with tears, has him smiling and relaxing all over again.He sets his guitar to the side as carefully as he can, and luckily Shigeo remains asleep through the maneuver. With the instrument out of the way, Teru is free to bring his arm around Shigeo’s shoulder and draw him just a little closer. He doesn’t really know what Shigeo had meant before, about not feeling real, about not being able to snap himself out of it, but he hopes that what he’s doing now is helping, somehow.(It does. He wakes up the next morning with Shigeo still sleeping soundly, peacefully, and he spends the rest of the day with Teru at his apartment, Signing animatedly enough to give Reigen a run for his money. Even though he’s been trying to give his emotions more consideration these past couple of years, Shigeo doesn’t always succeed, but now it’s as though he’s an excited little kid again without a care in the world. Teru has a bit of a difficult time keeping up with his rapid-fire signs, but he smiles and nods along with him.)(Shigeo thanks him, too. He thanks him for everything.)(Teru assures him it’s not necessary. That Shigeo is welcomed any day, anytime, day or night, rain or shine. Shigeo’s answering smile was bright enough to breathe life into the dreary apartment.)(A couple days pass before Shigeo brings a sticker to Teru’s apartment, inquiring softly if he would like to put it on his guitar. Teru doesn’t hesitate.)