Work Text:
Hoshiumi sits on his bed, crouched over in concentration. The sounds of a volleyball game coming from the speakers of his laptop are the only sounds in his small dorm room.
He hears footsteps approaching from outside in the hallway, Hirugami's, he recognizes, then the door opens. Fabric rustles and something makes a dull thud as it’s presumably dropped on the desk on Hirugami’s side of the room
“You got a minute?” Hirugami sounds a bit out of breath
Hoshiumi pointedly doesn’t look up. The commentators cheer and he lets out an annoyed huff. What were the blockers even doing? Were they thinking about the situation at all? Of course, number 11 would go for a cross-shot. In this rotation, the team's worst receiver stood right over there. It was an obvious choice on 11's part. He as a high-schooler had figured out as much, and the blockers called themselves pro-athletes? Tsk.
“Hey, look at me!” Hirugami is tapping his foot now, Hoshiumi can hear it.
The loud blaring siren for a technical timeout rings and Hoshiumi sighs. What an underwhelming game, he thinks.
“Kourai!” It’s almost a shout.
He looks up at Hirugami standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, tapping his foot on the floor in a textbook display of impatience.
“Not now. I’m watching a game.” Hoshiumi shifts on the bed. Sitting for long in this crouched position isn’t exactly comfortable.
“I can see that. But this is due on Friday and I need feedback before I turn any of them in. So would you mind?” He gestures to a pile of different colored fabrics on his desk.
Hoshiumi raises an eyebrow. “It’s Monday. You still have three days to finish… whatever this is. Why are you doing this now, of all times?”
Hirugami gets that stubborn expression on his face where he lifts his chin a bit more than normal. It makes him look like a pouting child – the vote is still out on whether Hoshiumi will ever tell him that. Cause chances are good that Hirugami will stop doing it then. For some reason Hoshiumi doesn’t want that. “Because I felt like it.”, Hirugami says, not doing himself any favors concerning the pouting situation.
Hoshiumi blinks at him, then scoffs. “… Jar.”
Hirugami lets out an indignant squawk followed by a very offended: “What?! Why?!”
Hoshiumi just looks at him. “You felt like it? Seriously? That was totally a tailor pun! And a painfully bad one at that. So jar.” He feels silly saying it, but hey, it was for a higher cause. For Hirugami, he reminds himself, for Hirugami.
“It was not a pun!” Hirugami sounds very indignant.
Hoshiumi hopes today isn't the day his friend calls him out on the bullshit of the last few weeks. He hasn’t perfected the explanation yet. So he tries insisting. “Uh uh uh, don’t even try. Jar.”
“Ugh, fine.” Hirugami rolls his eyes and as he turns away Hoshiumi hears him mumbling: “It wasn’t even intentional.”
It's a perfect opportunity and he doubles down on this ridiculous role he’s been playing for weeks now. “I heard that! And I call bullshit.”
Hirugami rolls his eyes again. He is really not doing himself any favors there, Hoshiumi will have to talk to him about it. Soon. Sometimes. Eventually.
Hirugami gets his wallet out of the pocket of his jacket that hangs by the door, stalks over to the tiny window of their room, and stuffs a few bills into an almost overflowing mason jar with Jar of Shame written on it in big red letters. It sits in between a pile of books about fashion, meditation, and volleyball that's precariously balanced on the small windowsill, and their little potted plant that's miraculously still alive despite neither of them watering it, ever.
Hoshiumi has half a mind to hand it over to a classmate of his who's absolutely obsessed with biology and always on the hunt for an interesting specimen. In Hoshiumi’s opinion, said classmate is the true interesting specimen, but the boy is always nice to him and has not once commented on his height, so he keeps that thought to himself.
Hirugami turns around and glares accusingly at him. “With how nitpicky you are about this, I’m starting to think you’re just in for the money and don’t actually mind the puns all that much.”
And now they’ve entered dangerous territory. Hirugami can under no circumstances find out that Hoshiumi is indeed doing it for the money. There’s a show coming to their city next month that he is one hundred percent positive Hirugami will like. But he also knows his friend well enough to know that Hirugami will never treat himself to anything if he isn't forced. And since, more often than not, the person to finally force him to spend money on something nice he will enjoy, is Hoshiumi; he came up with this brilliant beyond brilliant idea of sanctioning the use of tailor puns with a monetary fine to the Jar of Shame.
In hindsight, that was a very stupid idea since Hirugami isn’t a person who uses puns all that often – at least not intentionally. So after a month of barely any bills wandering into the jar and the date of the show approaching fast, Hoshiumi had grown desperate. He has spent an evening wading through joke boards and comedy sites tracking down every single tailor pun, or puns about fashion and design, he could find. He has felt like a madman pointing them out in Hirugami’s words over the last few weeks, but the results are worth it. Trusting his last estimate of the amount of money in the jar it would be enough for the commute, two tickets to the show, and extra for food and drinks. Hoshiumi was highly pleased with himself.
But now he has to distract Hirugami from this train of thought. “Two things can be true at the same time, Sachiro," Hoshiumi replies, shrugs, and tilts his head in the way he knows will remind Hirugami of the seagull he is so often compared to – Hoshiumi may or may not be doing it on purpose from time to time. He likes being compared to his school's mascot. Seagulls are awesome!
“Pleeeease, don’t start with the philosophical quotes!” Hirugami whines. Hoshiumi really, really has to talk to him about this pouty behavior.
He decides to counter just for the hell of it. Arguing with Hirugami is fun when he is aggravated like that. "Neither was it philosophical nor a quote, so try again."
And it works. Hirugami gestures with his hand as he vehemently protests. “Ugh, I’m just saying, you seem to notice a lot of puns in my sentences lately. So many that it’s almost like you are the one making them.”
Now, Hoshiumi will not take that accusation lying down, even if it’s technically the truth. Hirugami won’t ever know about this if Hoshiumi has any say in it. He decides that a diversion is in order. “Yeah, yeah, shut up. Now that you’ve successfully distracted me from watching the game. What do you need feedback on?”
Hirugami perks up like he just remembered why he even came to Hoshiumi in the first place. “Ah, yes. Ok, so you know the annual school fair is coming up?”
Hoshiumi snorts. “Kinda hard to miss with all the giant posters around.”
Hirugami, unfazed by the interruption, just keeps talking. “Yeah, so, anyway. The Art and Design Club is planning an exhibition and even a small runway show for any wearable designs! And they are accepting contributions from anyone, not just members! And I thought I could give it a try. Isn’t that exciting?!”
“Totally.” The dry response jumps out of his mouth before he has a chance of biting it back.
The other boy gives him a stern look. “That was a rhetorical question and your sarcasm is not appreciated.”
Hoshiumi nods in mock-seriousness. “Noted.”
Hirugami brushes the remark away with a resolute gesture of his right hand, shakes his head to clear his thoughts, and goes on. "Ok, so, I designed a few pieces and sewn test versions of them and I want your honest opinion."
Hoshiumi grimaces. “Uhm, like, how honest?”
“Kourai!” Hirugami's tone is chastising.
Great, now what did he do wrong this time? Hoshiumi crosses his arms In front of his chest in indignation. “What? It’s a reasonable question! Last time our baby setter asked for an honest opinion and I told him, he cried and didn’t look at me for the rest of practice.”
Hoshiumi had actually felt kinda a bit bad for that. He hadn't meant to make the first year upset to the point of tears. But he had asked him why his sets weren't reaching Hoshiumi’s impact point and he had told him what he was doing wrong. Apparently, that had been insensitive and rude.
Hirugami huffs, but his face holds that special expression he always gets when he tries to translate other people and their behavior to Hoshiumi. “He has a name, you know? And again, there’s a difference between honest and rude! What you just said was rude.”
It’s so frustrating to Hoshiumi that he never seems to get it right. And now asking others to specify was rude too? He doesn’t get it. He looks up at Hirugami gesturing with his hands. “But why? I just asked you what level of honesty you want. Isn’t that something I need to know before you show me your stuff?”
Hirugami has this fold on his forehead that he always has when he’s trying not to get frustrated. “Yeah, but… Nevermind. Is it okay if I explain that to you some other time?”
Hoshiumi nods in agreement. He would keep all his questions on that for later then. People were so stupidly complicated sometimes. He’s glad Hirugami takes the time to explain it to him.
Hirugami looks content, the fold is gone. He turns to the desk and starts ruffling through the pile. “Just look at them and tell me what you think.”
“Okay.” Hoshiumi isn’t sure if he’ll be able to provide the feedback Hirugami seems to be looking for, but oh well…
Hirugami finally decides on something and pulls it out of the pile of fabric on his desk. He turns around and holds it up, presenting the item to Hoshiumi. “Tada!”
It’s a shirt. Or at least it was one not too long ago. Now the material is hanging down in flaps and straps and some pieces are missing. Probably ripped out. The color isn’t all that bad, a nice middle blue. But that doesn’t save the thing at all!
Hoshiumi is fairly sure that his face is very carefully blank. He looks from the shirt to Hirugami and back in disbelief. Was his friend serious about this?
But by the way Hirugami’s eyes shine hopefully, he is serious. “Come on. What do you think?”, he asks.
Now, what do you say to something like that? Hoshiumi racks his brain for something positive, but his brain-to-mouth filter is refusing to work again today. And before he can stop himself he says: "Uhm, I… I'm sure it has a great personality. "
Hirugami’s face falls. He drops the hands that held the shirt in front of him. "So you think it's ugly." He doesn't even sound offended, Hoshiumi takes that as a bad sign.
But he has to let Hirugami know the truth, right? It is ugly. And Hoshiumi is soo out of his depths here. His wardrobe consists of solely athletic wear, his school uniform, a suit his mother forced on him for the wedding of some cousin of his, and a yukata his father insisted on for the funeral of his late great uncle. He doesn’t know the faintest thing about fashion trends. “Uhm, you wanted honesty, right?”
Hirugami sighs and shakes his head to himself. Then he seems to brace himself, looks up, and says: “Yes, I want you to tell me what you think. Be honest.”
Oh thank god, Hoshiumi doesn't feel as bad about what he's about to say now. "Ok, so, yeah, it is ugly! I'm pretty sure whatever that is, is not even wearable. What did you do to the poor shirt? Put it through a shredder?" He tries to elevate his discomfort by making a joke, but Hirugami avoids his eyes and blushes a bit. He couldn't have…
“Uhm, yeah. I did.”
Hoshiumi is flabbergasted. Impossible! “What?! But… why?!”
Hirugami’s posture straightens again and he looks at Hoshiumi as he says with conviction: “It’s art!”
They’ve had this very same discussion about art many times before. Hoshiumi isn’t up for a repeat performance today. He wants to get back to the game eventually, preferably before it ends. “I don’t want to hear it! How many things do you have in that pile?”
Hirugami looks back, then his lips move like he’s going through his mental inventory list. “With this one”, he raises the flappy thing in his one hand – as if Hoshiumi didn't know exactly what he was talking about – "there are three shirts, two pants, a dress, and a skirt."
“And we are starting with this? Oh boy!” Hoshiumi is sure that his vocabulary is going to escape him before they can get through all of them.
Hirugami seems mildly offended now. The pouty expression and the raised chin are back. “You haven’t even seen the rest!”
“And I’m wondering whether that’s a fact I’d like to change.” Hoshiumi grimaces internally as he sees Hirugami raise an eyebrow. He hadn't meant to say that out loud, stupid lack of filter!
At his place at the desk, Hirugami turns away from Hoshiumi and fiddles with the pile again. His voice is more serious as he speaks. “Kourai, please. I want to turn something into the exhibition. Even if it’s just one piece, I’d really like to do that. It’s okay if you don’t like any of them, just tell me the truth so I can work on it.”
Great, now Hoshiumi feels like a bad friend. He just doesn’t get it, okay? He hadn’t wanted to make Hirugami feel sad or anything, so he huffs. “Ugh, fine. Don’t go all mushy on me now!”
Hirugami turns around again with a big grin on his face, and for a second Hoshiumi wonders if he has just been expertly manipulated, but after Hirugami’s happy “Thank you!” that doesn’t seem so important after all. Hirugami pulls the next item out of the pile.
And Hoshiumi can’t hold back this time. “Oh god! What’s that?!?!” It’s so bright that Hoshiumi wonders if it warrants an epilepsy warning.
Hirugami fondly looks down at his creation and explains. “I experimented with neon highlighters.”
“Yeah, no shit…” What on earth has he gotten himself into?
A little while later the pile of clothes is no longer on the desk but on the floor. Together they looked at every piece of clothing and, well… It went about as well as Hoshiumi expected. Which meant not well at all.
Hirugami looks crestfallen. His shoulders are hunched inward a bit which makes him seem smaller than he is; he is fidgeting with his fingers, taking turns pulling on them or fiddling with his nails; his eyes are trained on the hump of clothes. When he begins to speak again his voice is hoarse and very quiet:
“I should have known. I should have known they would all turn out ugly and bad and wrong. I just wished I could do something with them. It always looks so awesome whenever all these famous designers put something random together and… I don’t know. It would have been fun.”
Oh. Oh no! Nonononono! Big red flag! Hoshiumi feels like hitting himself! Of course! Hirugami’s excitement is always super volatile. He had fucked up with his blunt critiques, hadn’t he? He had to interrupt this spiral of negativity asap before it became a hurricane sucking every good emotion out of Hirugami until the only thing left of Hoshiumi’s best friend was this empty hollow shell that he was so horribly familiar with.
He jumps up and off the bed taking three steps to posture himself up in front of Hirugami. He rests his hands on his hips and puts as much confidence in his voice as he can: "Stop it! No negative self-talk! That's not allowed here."
Hirugami is still not looking at him. Instead, he sniffs – oh god, he's crying! Hoshiumi is the worst at handling crying people – and then lets out a dry laugh that is the opposite of what a laugh is supposed to be. He wipes at his nose with his hand. "But it's true." He sounds even smaller than before.
“Nonsense! Stop that!” He pokes Hirugami in the chest.
“That’s coming from you? You just said all of them looked ugly.” Hoshiumi hates this resigned wet tone of Hirugami.
He needs something, anything, to save this situation. What would make this better? He has no clue about fashion. The colors? The… designs? But then, blessedly, his brain provides him with a memory of one of Hirugami’s lectures he had to endure on a long bus ride to a practice match. Something about how clothes could appear completely different based on how they were styled and what other items they were combined with. Yeah, that will certainly work! He is a genius!
So he bullshits together an answer based on that: “Well, they do. But maybe it’s because they are all on their own. No piece of clothing alone truly looks good without like – what do you always say? Ah, yes – the context of the other clothes around it. Oversized sweaters are ugly as hell, but if you wear the right stuff with them they look good.” Hoshiumi really, really hopes this will work.
And it does. Hirugami stops sniffing in front of him, fishes out a tissue, and blows his nose. “You think so?” His voice is still unsure, but it’s a start.
“Yeah! So, why don’t you put on some clothes and I don’t know, style your pieces and show me again.” Heck yes! Hoshiumi pats himself on the back.
“Hmm…” Hirugami's face is set in a picture of concentration. “That’s… actually a really good idea! Maybe I could put the blue shirt over something black and tight? And the skirt with something leathery.” His face lights up. “Oh, I know exactly what will look good with the red shirt! And I’ll have to find one of the girls to model the dress for me so I can style it, not my size.”
Now full of ideas and determination, Hirugami steps to the desk and hastily stuffs all of his designed clothes in a bag he fishes out from under his bed. Then he rushes to the door, puts on shoes, and is already halfway out of the room when he turns around again, a big happy grin on his face. "Thanks, Kourai, you're the best!"
Hoshiumi rolls his eyes in a pretense of annoyance. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Now off you go so I can watch my game in peace.”
Hirugami’s laugh bubbles through the door swinging shut behind him as he rushes out of the room in pursuit of his fashion designer dreams. Hoshiumi will forever deny any and all accusations of it, but he doesn’t need a mirror to know about the big stupid smile that sits on his face right now.