Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Ya never remember to put the damn food away in your apartment,” Osamu scolds his twin as they walk through the science building’s hallways. “What else would I do with it?”

He can see the specks of dust in the sunlight streaming through the big windows, agitated because the late afternoon sun is making him hot in his sweater, and he’s getting hungry.

He’d cast a spell to cool himself down, but he’s too busy trying to get his onigiri to be warm again. It’s an easy spell, but Atsumu yapping in his ear is ridiculously distracting. 

“Put it in the fridge for me!” Atsumu exclaims like it’s obvious. “Don’t just eat it!”

“You’re a grown man,” Osamu retorts. “I eat it to teach you a lesson.”

“You’re so fuckin’ annoying,” Atsumu sneers, shoving him because even if Osamu says he’s a grown man, he doesn’t actually agree with the statement. Osamu shoves back mercilessly, making sure his grip stays on his food. They’ve had accidents occur before.

“Uh oh,” Rintarou chuckles from behind them and Osamu sees him whip out his phone to film in his periphery.

“I’m annoyin’?” Osamu grunts when Atsumu pushes him. His onigiri wobbles precariously in his hand. Heat rises in his body and Osamu can feel himself growing more and more pissed off. He just wants to eat his snack. “Say that again when your own food kills ya ‘cause ya left it out too long.”

“You’re lame as hell. Y’know that?” Atsumu elbows him and the onigiri tumbling out of Osamu’s grasp is the last straw before he snaps. He spins on his heel, waving his wand angrily at Atsumu.

But before he can spit out a nasty slew of curse words, Atsumu suddenly shrinks. Like a deflating balloon. His entire body seems to squeeze and stay like that. 

“Oh, shit,” Rintarou hisses, moving quicker than Osamu can comprehend what he just did.

It happens so fast, Osamu can’t even process it until Rintarou dives to catch the tiny Atsumu. A baby Atsumu.

“What the fuck,” Osamu mumbles, his wand frozen in the air. Other students walking down the hall freeze at the sound of a child giggling in Rintarou’s arms.

“Don’t swear in front of the baby,” Rintarou says bluntly. The shirt Atsumu had been wearing sits too large on the child but he doesn’t look the least bit concerned. He laughs and kicks his feet in Rintarou’s arms, poking at his cheeks a bit with pudgy fingers.

Osamu blinks at the creature. It’s odd seeing him like this because he’s only ever seen little Atsumu in photos. His bright eyes are wide and curious as they stare at Osamu, too innocent to be his devil of a twin.

“What did you even do?” Rintarou asks, picking Atsumu up by his armpits and lifting him up like he’s Simba from ‘The Lion King.’ Osamu looks at his wand with a furrowed brow before sighing. He points it at his onigiri, left on the floor for more than five seconds now, and moves it to a nearby trash can. He looks at it solemnly as it floats through the air.

“I was tryna get it back to when it was hot and freshly made,” Osamu explains, tucking his wand back into its holster. 

“You probably got too emotional when you accidentally pointed it at Atsumu,” Rintarou guesses, smiling a rare smile at the toddler. Atsumu looks to be around one or two years old, chubby and cuter than he has any right to be. 

“Yeah,” Osamu groans, rubbing his neck as he tries to think of a solution. “Shit. I don’t know how to reverse it.”

“There’s gotta be a professor in the time department,” Rintarou reassures, grinning as he boops Atsumu on the nose. The toddler laughs brightly again and Osamu notes that Rintarou is surprisingly good with kids. “I’m so glad he isn’t still blond. Wouldn’t that be weird?”

Osamu wrinkles his nose. “Why didja put that image in my head?”

They make their way to the time department with Atsumu in tow. He’s begun to drool everywhere but Rintarou continues to uncharacteristically babble and coo at him which Osamu finds both off-putting and endearing. 

“Excuse us,” he bows before entering the room. Rintarou follows, holding up Atsumu for the staff to gawk at as Osamu awkwardly explains what has happened. 

“It’s a little funny when grad students get into trouble like this. To think that ya had enough power to send him back this many years,” one of the professors chuckles, walking over to look at Atsumu in amusement. Atsumu blows a raspberry in her face before bursting into giggles. The professor straightens with another laugh, wagging her finger in Atsumu’s face playfully. Osamu thinks it’s still weird to see him so small and silly. “You’re lucky ya didn’t turn him into a teenager or somethin’ more difficult.”

Both Osamu and Rintarou shudder at the thought. 

“We just wanted to ask if there was a professor in here that might be able to help us,” Osamu says. 

“Oh, Yoshitake-sensei would’ve been able to help,” another professor pipes up from their desk. “But she’s at a conference right now and won’t be back until the end of the week.”

Osamu tries to hide his disappointment, thanking the faculty members before he turns to leave. Rintarou follows, a teasing smirk on his face when he hands Osamu the child.

“Guess he’s your responsibility for the week,” Rintarou chuckles. Osamu frowns at Atsumu as he laughs and spits at him. They’re lucky they have the upcoming week off, but this isn’t exactly how he planned on spending it. He supposes this whole ordeal is his own fault, though.

“Yeah, I guess.” Osamu sticks his tongue out at Atsumu experimentally to see how he reacts. When he giggles more, Osamu finds himself smiling at the child in his arms. “Hi, ‘Tsumu.”

“Chumu!” Atsumu repeats.

“He’s so cute and fun,” Rintarou sighs forlornly. “What went wrong?”

“No idea,” Osamu snorts, fixing the oversized shirt covering Atsumu until he’s more swaddled than swallowed by the fabric. Panic starts to set in when he finally begins to realize that he’ll be taking care of his twin who has reverted into a baby. “How do ya even take care of a little guy like this? Why’s he so tiny?”

Rintarou grins, shaking his head and poking a knuckle at the apple of Atsumu’s round cheeks.

“Why don’t we stop by the daycare and see if there’s anything we can borrow?” Rintarou suggests. A part of Osamu floods with relief. He hadn’t realized how comforting it would be to have Rintarou’s calm voice of reason with him right now. 

The daycare is kind enough to lend an ear before offering Osamu the essentials: a crib, stroller, spare bottles, and a few diapers until Osamu can go out to purchase his own. They even give him a change of clothes; apparently, Atsumu’s giant shirt was not acceptable. 

“What do you think they’re thinking?” Rintarou teases as he pushes Atsumu in a stroller down campus. Osamu glares at him, huffing at how hard it is to hold a heavy crib with his magic when he’s barely had anything to eat this afternoon. 

“I’d rather not guess,” Osamu grunts, although he does feel slightly amused when Rintarou chuckles beside him.

“Maybe they think one of us knocked someone up,” Rintarou jokes. Osamu laughs incredulously, wishing he could check his ridiculous friend’s hip. 

“Dude, c’mon,” he replies, shaking his head instead.

“Well, it would obviously be you,” Rintarou adds. “This is your carbon copy, after all.”

A part of him does start to wonder what people might say, especially since Osamu is quite well-known on campus. He waves back awkwardly when his classmates greet him, hearing Rintarou snicker at the funny looks they’re getting.

“Oh, my goodness, what is goin’ on?” a familiar voice says and Osamu cringes, putting down the furniture just as Aran, Kita, and Oomimi come into view. 

“A baby,” Kita observes bluntly as he stares at the stroller. Atsumu grabs at him, smiling and laughing brightly at the sight of his friend. Osamu wonders if he recognizes anyone or if he’s really reverted to his time as a child.

“Atsumu,” Aran corrects, voice sounding pained because, unsurprisingly, his first assumption was that this could have only happened because something went wrong. Not that it didn’t. “God, how did this even happen?”

“I have the whole thing recorded,” Rintarou smirks, waving his phone enticingly as if Aran cares to watch these things. Osamu rolls his eyes.

“We got into an argument,” he explains reluctantly. From the corner of his eye, he sees Oomimi and Kita crouched in front of Atsumu’s stroller playing with him, babbling back at him while trying to get him to say their names. It’s a little unsettling to see what babies can reduce adults to. 

“And ya turned him into a baby?!” 

“No!” Osamu cries. “Well, yes. But not on purpose.”

“Have ya figured out how to turn him back?” Kita asks. He isn’t even looking at Osamu, his wide eyes distracted by the marvel in front of him. He plays with Atsumu like he’s never seen a baby before, but maybe it’s the shock from seeing Atsumu as a baby after seeing him as an adult.

“There’s a prof who can do it,” Osamu replies. He frowns when Atsumu looks at him to blow another raspberry. Even as a kid he can’t keep his stupid tongue in his mouth. “But she isn’t back till the end of the week.”

“So you’re gonna take care of him till then?” Oomimi blinks at him. “That’s difficult, Osamu.”

“I know,” he grits out. He hears Rintarou chuckle before his friend’s hand finds his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be fine,” Rintarou says. “Let’s just be grateful it's Osamu and not Atsumu taking care of a baby.”

There’s a chorus of agreement that Atsumu clearly doesn’t understand because all he does is screech and yell, “Chumu!” again.

After Osamu agrees to reach out if he needs help, the trio make it back to his small apartment which turns out to be incredibly inappropriate for a baby. Osamu suddenly becomes keenly aware of sharp corners and furniture Atsumu could potentially climb when they walk in.

“We should go out to buy some stuff,” Rintarou suggests, tapping a finger against the corner of Osamu’s coffee table. “Let’s figure out how many things need to be covered. Can you count, Atsumu?”

“Chumu,” Atsumu can only respond. Osamu watches as Rintarou tries to teach Atsumu how to count slowly, surprised by his patience and willingness to humour the baby.

He catches himself smiling as he watches, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sight. It’s like he’s just realizing how grown-up Rintarou is now.  

He’s almost in disbelief over the fact that his gap-toothed neighbour is here taking care of a baby with him when they had been the same bright-eyed children not too long ago. They were a little older when Rintarou had moved in, a new kid who didn’t seem too eager to be their friend.

In fact, Rintarou seemed to like Aran a lot more than he liked the twins when they first asked him to play at the park with them. He clung to his mother’s leg for a good while, observing them before quietly joining them in the sandbox. 

When Atsumu thought it’d be funny to ram a toy truck into the castle Rintarou built, Osamu was ready to be all up in arms for this new boy. But then Rintarou simply got up, his face giving away nothing, as he walked over and gave Atsumu’s own sand castle a big stomp.

Then he coolly sat down beside Aran as Atsumu wailed and sobbed. Osamu could only follow suit because, for some reason, every time his brother cried, he did too.

It’d taken a long while after that to become friends, but Rintarou eventually warmed up to the twins. Or to Osamu, at least. Even now, he’s somewhat at odds with Atsumu, exchanging underhanded jabs that only they could forgive each other for. Osamu genuinely shudders sometimes when he hears the insults they trade so casually.

Despite all that, he seems to be having a good time with baby Atsumu, bouncing him up and down in his arms to get him to laugh.

“Do you want to play with him?” Rintarou asks, snapping Osamu out of his thoughts. He shakes his head, content with watching just because he’s enjoying this side of Rintarou.

“I forgot how good ya were with kids,” Osamu admits, grabbing Rintarou’s phone so he can take a picture. He knows he’d want a memory of this and he’s proven right when Rintarou laughs knowingly. He holds Atsumu up for the camera, flashing a peace sign that Atsumu tries to copy with his chubby fingers.

“I definitely wasn’t like this to my sister,” Rintarou snorts. Osamu laughs at the memory of what a terror Rintarou’s younger sister had been. He’d follow Rintarou to the daycare to pick her up when they were in middle school, each holding one of her hands as she demanded to be swung. 

“You were a good older brother,” Osamu reassures, walking over to them to poke Atsumu’s cheeks. It’s still strange, but he’s starting to see him as any other baby and not his twin brother. “I guess we’ve sorta done this before.”

“Yeah, but we don’t have one of our parents to fall back on,” Rintarou sighs. “Maybe you should call yours and tell them what happened.”

He has to grab a tissue to dab at the trail of drool Atsumu happily produces as he giggles and spits. Osamu wonders if he prefers this over the usual bullshit Atsumu spews. This time, it’s Osamu’s turn to sigh as he goes to find his phone, trying to prepare himself to call his parents. 

After a thirty-minute phone call that started with him being scolded, Osamu gets a list of things he needs to buy for the baby as well as instructions to visit home with the child. Rintarou was told to send any photos. 

“As mad as I am that you two are still grown and fightin’,” his mother had said. “I am a little happy that I get to see baby Atsumu again. Just a little.”

They take Atsumu to the department store, hoping to find everything they need in one place. There’s a childlike wonder on his face once they enter, mouth open as he takes in the bright lights, pop music, and more toys than he can count. 

When Osamu looks at Rintarou, the man’s own version of excitement is evident and Osamu chuckles to himself. It’s not obvious, but he knows department stores are Rintarou’s own personal playground. 

“Up,” Atsumu suddenly says, squirming in his stroller. Osamu glances at Rintarou before looking around the store. 

“It should be fine,” he decides, leaning over to unbuckle the child. Rintarou hums in agreement and Osamu places Atsumu on his feet, grinning when he looks at him in confusion. 

“You can walk, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu encourages, even though he isn’t actually sure. He keeps his hands around his brother in case he falls, watching carefully as he takes a few steps.

“When did you two learn to walk?” Rintarou asks. 

“I think I was first. Just before we turned one,” Osamu replies, smirking to himself. Atsumu laughs joyfully as he starts to step more confidently and Osamu feels a strange sense of pride even though he knows adult Atsumu is perfectly capable of walking. “‘Tsumu took a little longer. I think a couple months later?”

“Wow,” Rintarou muses. They watch as Atsumu pads along the linoleum, a wide smile on his face as he studies everything on the shelves that meets his eye level. “Look at him go.”

“‘Tsumu, wanna pick out some toys?” Osamu asks, even though he really only has money for the necessities. He hears Rintarou chuckle knowingly beside him. 

“You’re spoiling him,” Rintarou teases. “Do you think he’ll remember this when he’s back to normal?”

Osamu scowls. “I hope not.”

Atsumu saunters in front of them, pointing at anything and everything as Osamu and Rintarou grab what they actually need. 

“Which brand of diapers is better?” Osamu asks, holding up two boxes. Rintarou leans over the stroller, humming in contemplation. When he starts pointing at them and muttering under his breath, Osamu lightly kicks him in the shin.

“Your actual opinion. Not eenie meenie.” 

“I, unfortunately, don’t have an opinion on diaper brands,” Rintarou snorts. “Should we ask Atsumu?”

He looks to Atsumu to play up his joke, but his expression suddenly goes serious and he straightens up. Osamu’s about to ask what’s going on but it hits him immediately.

“Did we fuckin’ lose him?” he asks. Rintarou’s already pushing the stroller out of the aisle and Osamu quickly tosses one box aside before dashing after him with the shopping cart. Panic starts to rise in his chest when he remembers that losing baby Atsumu in a store is completely different than losing adult Atsumu in a store.

“Where could he have possibly gone?” Rintarou says incredulously as they duck in and out of the aisles. “Atsumu? Where’d you go?”

Obviously, Atsumu does not respond. Osamu suddenly wishes he was still blond because it might be easier to spot him.

“Let’s split up and meet back here in ten minutes,” Osamu suggests. “Call if ya find him.”

Rintarou gives him a nod in agreement, leaving with the stroller. Osamu sets off on his own immediately, scaling the aisles with his shopping cart like a madman. It’s not like Atsumu could go far since he’s tiny.

When he enters a snack aisle, he runs into Rintarou who looks uncharacteristically frazzled, hands gripping the stroller handles as he approaches Osamu. It’d be a funny sight if it weren’t for the situation.

“Nothing?” Rintarou asks.

“Nothin’.” Osamu responds, exhaling in exasperation. They stand there, contemplating their next move until Rintarou pipes up. 

“I’ve got a tracking spell,” Rintarou says. “But it’s usually for dogs and the dog’s supposed to lick my finger first.”

Osamu is about to sigh at the futile idea when he sees the look on Rintarou’s face. 

“I am not lickin’ your goddamn finger.”

“But you’re twins!” Rintarou exclaims. “It’d work! I’ll know exactly where he went.”

“I don’t wanna lick your finger,” Osamu scowls. 

“Oh, come on. You’ve licked my ear before,” Rintarou retorts, rolling his eyes as he gets closer to Osamu. He wags his pointer finger in his face threateningly.

“We were eight!” Osamu argues, shrinking away.

“Don’t you want to find Atsumu?” Rintarou asks, getting even closer. Osamu takes a step back until he’s against the shelves.

“I’m not doin’ it! It’s weird,” Osamu laments.

“Dude, chill. It’s not a big deal.” Rintarou shoves his finger even more into Osamu’s face.

“No!” 

“Oh, my god, Miya Osamu. Just lick my finger!”

Osamu pauses, looking to his side to see a few shoppers staring at them in fear. 

“Rin,” Osamu murmurs. Rintarou turns his head a second later, retracting his finger slowly upon noticing their audience. 

“This is ridiculous,” Rintarou mutters under his breath. “Are you gonna do it or not.”

“Fine,” Osamu concedes, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Can we at least do it somewhere quieter?”

Rintarou gives him an unimpressed look before glaring at the shoppers’ backs as they leave in silence. “Fine.”

Eventually, Rintarou’s spell does work and they find Atsumu safe and sound where all the lost children end up at a store that big.

“We were just about to make an announcement!” the clerk had chirped and she’d glanced at Rintarou’s finger still awkwardly pointing upwards. “But it looks like ya figured it out.”

They both vowed to never enter that department store again.

They’re exhausted when they finally get to Osamu’s apartment, half asleep as they install the foam corners to Osamu’s furniture. Atsumu’s already down for the count in his crib, copious amounts of energy having run out after putting Osamu and Rintarou through the most stressful shopping trip of their lives. 

“Osamu,” Rintarou says, pulling Osamu out of his stupor as he absently finishes covering the corner of his coffee table. His living room lamp is too warm and he can feel his eyelids drooping.

“Yuh-huh,” he responds, finishing off the beer he’d been drinking.

“Do you want my help?” his friend asks. 

“Huh?” Osamu blinks. “Whaddya mean? We just finished.” Rintarou had been pretty helpful already.

“No, I mean for the rest of the week.” Rintarou hitches a thumb down the hall where Atsumu sleeps and gives Osamu a small smirk. “I have this feeling you’ll need it. Who knows if you can sleep through a baby crying.”

Osamu huffs at the jab, but a part of him wants Rintarou’s help. He doesn’t know if he can do this alone and just having his best friend here for support is comfort enough. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he says, tipping his beer can against Rintarou’s. “I appreciate it. Thanks, Rin.”

Rintarou leans his elbow against the coffee table, his eyes suddenly going soft as he looks at Osamu. The light paints him in a warm yellow and Osamu feels calm just seeing him like this, despite the day he’s had. He’s reminded that Rintarou really is his rock.

“Of course,” Rintarou replies. He grins, but there’s a somberness to it that Osamu wishes he didn’t notice. Rintarou’s next words are hushed as if he doesn’t want to acknowledge what he’s about to say either. “We should spend as much time as we can together anyway. Before I leave after graduating.”

Osamu swallows, a hollowness seeping into his bones. Rintarou’s statement is no surprise, but it feels like cold water is being dumped on him all the same. 

Once they’ve both finished grad school, Rintarou is leaving to do research elsewhere. He already has an offer from a mentor in Shizuoka. He won’t be Osamu’s neighbour after almost twenty years of being so close to each other. It had always been so easy to see Rintarou, but soon, it won’t be.

He tries for a smile but it feels tight. He can’t imagine Rintarou being so far away even though he knows it’ll be a reality in a matter of months. They’d been working towards this for their whole lives together. If this is where Rintarou’s dream takes him, then Osamu just has to accept it.

“Yeah,” Osamu manages to utter. He reluctantly looks away from Rintarou and stands up, stretching with a groan. He glances down the hall where his room is, realizing the spot where Rintarou’s extra futon usually goes is occupied by Atsumu’s crib.

“We might hafta share the bed,” Osamu mumbles, trying to keep the heat rising in his cheeks away. He’s shared a bed with Rintarou countless times. It shouldn’t matter so much to do it now. Rintarou’s here to help him and it’s just until the end of the week. It’s only Rintarou, his best friend. So why is his face getting so warm?

꩜꩜

Atsumu wakes up with an abundance of energy the next morning that Osamu and Rintarou have no idea how to handle. They’re lucky Atsumu didn’t keep them up by crying at odd hours because Osamu isn’t sure he’d be able to deal with that all week.

“Can we just take him outside?” Rintarou asks, handing Osamu a clean diaper. “Like a dog?”

“Don’t compare the baby to a dog,” Osamu snorts, following the YouTube tutorial Rintarou had pulled up. “But that’s not a bad idea. We could go to the park.”

He finishes the diaper on his first try this time, filling with pride as he gives it a little tug. He gives Atsumu a gentle high-five before letting Rintarou dress him. They’ve somehow settled into a pretty good system already, but Osamu doesn’t think he expected any less from the two of them.

At the park, the moment Rintarou lets Atsumu loose, it’s as if he’d unleashed a ball of terror onto the other kids. Atsumu bounds over to a group of kids and Osamu and Rintarou observe in confusion as he starts to growl at them.

“What the hell is he doin’?” Osamu murmurs. He puts the giant diaper bag down on a bench, stretching his back while keeping an eye on the child. 

“Beats me,” Rintarou replies. “Was he always this weird?”

“I have no memory of it but I wouldn’t doubt it.” Osamu’s brow furrows the more he watches his brother try to intimidate the other children with weird noises. He realizes Atsumu must be pretending to be a dinosaur with his small arms tucked in and his mouth open in a roar. Then it hits Osamu.

“Oh, God,” Osamu breathes, slapping Rintarou’s arm before scrambling towards the boy in a panic. “He’s gonna bite someone! Rin!”

“What?” Rintarou calls after him as Osamu runs and scoops Atsumu up just in time. His brother starts to throw a fit in his arms, still a dinosaur or whatever it was he was trying to be. Osamu sighs before turning to the other adults on the benches watching their children. It’s oddly embarrassing being judged by all these parents.

He bows in apology and turns away, ready to scold Atsumu for his behaviour as they return to the spot where Rintarou is waiting. Osamu puts a confused Atsumu down, thinking about what to say when Rintarou takes the child by the shoulders and turns him around.

“Atsumu,” he says sternly. It’s the first time Osamu’s ever heard him like this. “You can’t do that to people. Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you.” Rintarou gently takes Atsumu’s chin between his fingers and pulls his gaze away from whatever distracts him. “What if I did that to you?”

Rintarou lifts his hands up like claws and gnashes his teeth together. It’s hardly aggressive, but the boy lets out a little gasp before running into Rintarou’s arms to cry.

“See?” Rintarou says, patting Atsumu on the back softly before picking him up. “You have to be nice or you’ll make the other kids cry, too.”

Osamu can only watch in awe as Rintarou demonstrates to Atsumu good manners. He sets an example for the boy, getting him to copy his actions patiently and with a gentle tone. Osamu still can’t believe how good he is at this. 

“Show Osamu what you just learned,” Rintarou whispers to the baby. Atsumu nods, hiccuping before he waves a chubby hand at Osamu. 

“‘Samu,” he says. Osamu’s chest squeezes and he can’t help himself when he goes to take the baby from Rintarou. He gives Atsumu a proud hug, hearing Rintarou chuckle as he pulls his phone out for a photo.

“Do ya think adult ‘Tsumu will remember this lesson?” Osamu jokes. Rintarou snorts, his doubts made clear. Osamu can’t say he doesn’t agree.

“Why don’t we go somewhere for lunch?” Osamu asks. 

“Sounds good,” Rintarou nods, going to collect the diaper bag. Osamu grins and takes Atsumu’s hand in his, waving it around excitedly for him. 

“Lunch!” he cheers. Atsumu just laughs in response and Osamu has to stop himself from taking a bite out of his round cheeks.

The older women at the restaurant they enter seem to feel the same way. Atsumu bathes in the attention they give him as they dote on the child. Rintarou looks amused as he holds another spoonful of baby food up to Atsumu’s waiting mouth, his wand out in his other hand to keep the mushy carrots from dribbling out past the child’s lips.

“He’s just so cute. I miss when my kids looked like this,” one of the women coos. “And he looks just like ya.”

She looks at Osamu and her friend nods in agreement. Osamu tries not to laugh too hard. 

“Are ya both his dads?” She asks. Osamu makes eye contact with Rintarou, a little perplexed by the question. There’s no need to tell them the whole story, but he isn’t sure what else to say. 

The silent conversation he’s having with Rintarou isn’t getting them anywhere, though, and their lack of response is starting to get weird. 

“Ah, just me,” Osamu eventually settles on. Rintarou nods.

“Goodness. Ya seem so young,” one of the women shakes her head. Osamu presses his lips into a thin line, forcing himself to smile awkwardly. Rintarou looks like he’s trying not to laugh, engaging in the conversation as little as possible.

“I was thinkin’ what a lovely family ya made,” her friend chuckles.

For a moment, Osamu thinks this is a really awkward position to put them in, heart stammering over what the woman is implying. But one look at Rintarou’s charmed grin dissolves that strange feeling.

Of course, his best friend is tickled by it. Because it really isn’t all that weird. Osamu and Rintarou are close, and even if this stranger hadn’t been right, Osamu finds that he isn’t put off by the assumption. 

When they leave the diner shortly after, Osamu wonders if he should be. He watches as Rintarou wrangles Atsumu into the car once he’s finished neatly folding the stroller into his trunk. He can’t help but chuckle a little; magic is good with moving inanimate objects. Not so much with energetic babies.

It puts him at ease having Rintarou here, but there’s something else. It’s a lingering feeling. One that seems to have festered in his heart for a while but is only now coming out to bother Osamu. He just can’t quite put his finger on it.

It gnaws at him all the way to his parents' house, only forgotten once their mother opens the front door and makes a beeline for Atsumu.

“Oh, look at ya,” she exclaims, bundling him up in her arms as soon as he’s out of his car seat. Atsumu is ecstatic to see her, apparently knowing who his mother is. When their father steps out, Osamu hears him bust out some baby talk; he wishes he never had the displeasure of hearing it as an adult.

“Seems like just yesterday when ya both still looked like this,” his father muses, lifting Atsumu in the air to make him laugh. 

“He’s pretty good,” Osamu says. “Doesn’t cry too much and listened to Rin after he scolded him.”

He hitches a thumb over at Rintarou who shakes his head.

“Rintarou-kun, ya had to scold him?” his mother teases, walking over to give the two of them a hug. “Wish I coulda seen that.”

“It was great,” Osamu grins, earning him a light slap on the arm from Rintarou. 

“Don’t be so shy, Rintarou-kun,” his father says, ushering them into the house. “We’re thankful that you’re willin’ to help Osamu out even when it was his own stupidity that got him here.”

Osamu rolls his eyes, returning Rintarou’s slap when he hears his friend snickering.

“More than happy, Miya-san.” Rintarou slides Osamu a playful grin that he can only scoff at. 

As they walk further into his house, it feels like not much has changed. His childhood home has always had a smell he recognizes after some time away that he’ll get used to again in a matter of minutes. The photos on the wall rarely change and are diligently dusted. A scratch on the wall that definitely came from Atsumu and not Osamu is still there. And Rintarou is beside him as he has been for the past twenty years.

His father was right. It seems like just yesterday when they were bounding into the Miya household after school, too loud for their own good and racing upstairs as his mother scolded their quartet.

It’s all they talk about after dinner. Osamu’s stomach is full and he feels content sitting beside Rintarou on the couch as his mother recounts stories from their childhood. His father pulls out photo albums to show Atsumu pictures of himself, calling it a crazy inception, but it entertains Osamu and Rintarou all the same.

They look through one together as his parents take Atsumu off their hands, tucked under a blanket and reliving moments from their own time as kids.

“When was this?” Rintarou asks. It’s from a birthday party but it isn’t clear whose. The plate in Atsumu’s hand is empty and he’s bawling his eyes out while Osamu looks innocently at the camera, mouth covered in cake. 

“Uh, I think that was Aran’s birthday,” Osamu guesses. “Seventh or eighth. Can’t remember.”

“Did you steal Atsumu’s cake off his plate?” Rintarou snorts, pointing at the clearly guilty young Osamu. 

“No,” Osamu denies, flipping the page before Rintarou can push. He sees his friend smiling at him in the corner of his eye and is suddenly met with the fact that they’d gotten very close while poring over the photos.

It’s not out of the ordinary. In fact, Osamu takes it as an opportunity to shift closer, leaning his weight into Rintarou’s shoulder and getting comfortable. Almost reflexively, Rintarou drapes an arm across his shoulders, tugging him into his side. 

“I dunno. I kinda remember it happening,” Rintarou hums. Osamu elbows him so he’ll drop it, chuckling to himself when Rintarou yelps. 

“No, ya don’t,” he denies, pointing at a new photo. “Oh, that’s you.”

“Oh, God,” Rintarou laughs. Osamu can’t help but smile too. Rintarou never failed to look bored around other kids, sipping on a box of juice and staring off into space as Osamu tried to feed him cake.

“Wait, I think I took ‘Tsumu’s cake ‘cause I gave ya mine,” Osamu mumbles. He has no recollection of the actual event, but he thinks he’s heard the story from his mother who must’ve followed them closely with her camera.

“That’s sweet of you,” Rintarou snorts. “I look really moved by your gesture.” 

They’re both laughing quietly and Osamu feels his eyelids growing heavy. He’s too comfortable like this and he thinks this might be a really intimate moment. Rintarou is barely a step away from being family. His presence at the dinner table is nothing peculiar. He blends in seamlessly with the Miya family’s dynamics, having been a part of it for so long.

They pick up another album and quickly realize that they’ve gone through this one before, but Rintarou continues to look at it anyway. He has less commentary this time and Osamu is helpless to let his thoughts wander.

Maybe it’s because he’s never felt very strongly about anyone, but he wonders why he can’t picture anyone else in his family’s home like this. Rintarou is like a staple in his life, but it’s different from his parents, his brother, and Aran. 

It’s then that it hits him, half-asleep with Rintarou’s arm around him as he finishes leafing through another album full of memories. He didn’t know how to describe it before, but he does now. He’s in love with his best friend.

He cannot imagine being in this position with someone else, this comfortable and relaxed; this known and supported. The thought of bringing anyone else to his family feels wrong. The idea of saying he’s in love with someone that isn’t Rintarou doesn’t sit right with him. 

He tries not to freeze up when Rintarou could probably sense any shift in his behaviour. He ignores how aware of his breathing he becomes, moving a little to rest his head on Rintarou’s shoulder. He does not expect a hand to settle in his hair before brushing through it, heart hammering over the small touch. 

“Do you want to go home?” Rintarou murmurs. His fingers raking through Osamu’s hair threaten to lull him to sleep. “I can drive. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Mmh,” Osamu grumbles, not having the energy to say it’s Rintarou’s fault. He feels sleepy, but his brain is screaming at him, keenly aware of his feelings for the first time.

Atsumu is fast asleep when they strap him into his car seat. Osamu watches as his mother and father both give the apple of his cheek a kiss, almost reluctant to let him go.

“I want to keep him,” she whispers to Osamu before shaking her head. “But that would be wrong.”

Osamu laughs quietly before bending down for a kiss of his own. “Bye, ma. Thanks for dinner and all the stuff.”

“Of course! Didn’t know it would ever come in handy again, but I’m glad it won’t just collect dust.” She looks over at his father with a triumphant look on her face. “Aren’t ya glad I convinced ya not to throw anythin’ out?”

“Yeah, yeah,” his father sighs, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “You two get home safe, alright?”

“Yessir,” Osamu salutes. He slides into the passenger seat, unaware of his own smile as he watches Rintarou hug both his parents goodbye.

“What’re you smiling at?” Rintarou asks when he slips into the driver’s seat. Osamu blinks, forcing his expression back into neutrality. He tries not to shiver, but his epiphany is doing weird things to him. He suddenly can’t take his eyes off Rintarou as he drives, oddly mesmerized despite having been in this exact position countless times before.

It’s strange. Osamu isn’t dumb enough to think his feelings appeared from thin air, but the sudden realization is so overwhelming. He feels like a bottle of soda that just got shaken up, ready to explode at any second. What if he let it slip that he was in love with Rintarou right now? Would anything change? Would his words hang in the quiet of the car – the car he drove for the first time with Rintarou in the passenger seat because he didn’t want anyone else to experience that moment with him?

Or would Rintarou give him that small smile that drives him a little crazy when Osamu knows he’s the cause? 

“Nothin’,” Osamu mutters before clearing his throat softly. He turns away from Rintarou, a little worried that he might actually confess by accident if he keeps staring. “Didja have fun?”

“Yeah. You know I love your parents,” Rintarou chuckles, reaching over to turn down the radio. It’s a low hum against the rumble of the engine, but Atsumu stays asleep in the back. Osamu thinks they might spend the rest of the ride home in silence, which he’s fine with, when Rintarou speaks up again.

“Not to be sappy,” he says softly. “But I’m glad I’ve known you for so long, Osamu.”

“Woah,” Osamu snorts, even though a lump quickly starts to form in his throat. “What’s this? Suna Rintarou is about to talk about his feelings? Are ya dyin’?”

He asks as if he doesn’t know exactly where this is coming from. His heart races, knowing Rintarou never, ever gets this sentimental. The fact that he is means their time together is fast approaching its end and it kills Osamu to remember that. 

“Shut up,” Rintarou slaps at him without taking his eyes off the road. “I’m just-”

He sighs, blindly patting at Osamu until he can squish his palm against his cheek. Osamu lets it happen without complaint, patiently waiting for Rintarou to finish his train of thought.

“I’m grateful for you. For our friendship. That’s all.” Rintarou retracts his hand and Osamu swears he’s blushing when he looks over at him, chuckling under his breath when his friend groans. 

“Dude. You’re hilarious,” Osamu snorts. “I’m grateful for you, too, Sunarin.”

Rintarou looks like he’s smelled a fart which only makes Osamu laugh harder. He remembers to hold it in, lest he wakes up baby Atsumu in the back, and it helps him forget the reason why Rintarou is bringing this up.

“Okay,” Rintarou mutters, comically focused on the road. Osamu grins to himself, horribly taken by this man. “Don’t forget that when I leave. Or whatever. I don’t care.”

Osamu chuckles, shaking his head before closing his eyes. Rintarou is ridiculous. He wouldn’t forget. But he hears what Rintarou doesn’t say out loud. 

He doesn’t want their friendship to change. And if Osamu’s being honest, he doesn’t either. What they have is important to him and being separated is already going to be hard on them. It wouldn’t be worth the risk to say anything – not when their friendship is on the line.

꩜꩜

On day three, Atsumu’s phone suddenly starts ringing.

“Did ya plug his phone in?” Osamu asks, walking over to the device. Rintarou hums from the floor where he’s colouring with Atsumu. 

“Yeah. In case his advisor didn’t see your email and calls,” Rintarou explains. Osamu nods as he peers at the lit-up screen, eyebrows scrunching when he sees who’s calling. 

“Sakusa Kiyoomi?” he questions, picking up Atsumu’s phone. It unlocks upon scanning his face and Osamu doesn’t know if he should be grateful for being a twin when a very disgruntled Sakusa immediately starts pelting him with questions. 

“I can’t believe I had to call you, but you haven’t said anything in three days,” Sakusa grumbles. “Did you lose your phone? Did you break it?”

“Hey, hey, Sakusa-kun,” Osamu cuts in. Rintarou glances at him in amusement before turning back to baby Atsumu. He happily doodles with his tongue stuck out in concentration, unaware that Sakusa Kiyoomi is on the phone. Osamu sighs to himself. “Look, somethin’ came up, so ‘Tsumu hasn’t been able to do anythin’. He’s not ignorin’ ya.”

There’s a pause. The awkward silence is deeply unenjoyable. He knows he and Atsumu have…something going on, but he didn’t realize it would prompt Sakusa to call or that he would sound so concerned. 

“And, um, I’m sorry I didn’t tell ya earlier,” Osamu adds meekly. “I didn’t know who would care.”

Sakusa scoffs at that. “I don’t care.”

There’s another awkward pause and Osamu considers just hanging up on him until Kiyoomi sighs in defeat.

“Is he, like, okay?” he asks. “He’s not sick or anything, is he?”

“Oh, no. He’s alright,” Osamu says. It strikes him that he could just be honest and tell Sakusa what happened. He ponders for a bit and he decides he owes Atsumu that much for what he’s done to him. “I kind of accidentally turned him into a baby earlier this week.”

“You-” Sakusa takes a second to process his words. “What?”

“I’ll show ya,” Osamu chirps, walking over to Rintarou and Atsumu before putting the phone on speaker. “‘Tsumu, can ya say hi to Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

He stretches the syllables as a favour to Kiyoomi, but when he crouches and puts the phone to Atsumu’s mouth, all that comes out is a very excited, “Omi!”

“Oh.” Kiyoomi’s voice sounds distant over the line and Osamu can’t tell if he’s touched or mildly perturbed over the fact that Atsumu has kept his nickname for him even as a baby. 

Osamu is about to ask Kiyoomi if he wants to come play with him when Atsumu chooses that moment to sneeze. Rintarou is quick to magick a wad of tissue to catch the snot with a grimace. Osamu has to stifle a laugh, deciding to spare Atsumu and to leave his precious Omi-kun out of this.

“Yeah, I’ll send ya pictures,” Osamu says. “He’s real cute. Less chatty than he is now.”

“Okay,” Kiyoomi replies and Osamu swears he hears something like a laugh from the other end. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Osamu sighs. Once he’s said his goodbyes and hung up, he moves to sit on the floor beside Atsumu and Rintarou. He snaps a picture with Atsumu’s phone before peering at his brother’s handiwork. 

“Whatcha drawin’, ‘Tsumu?” Osamu asks. Atsumu beams as he lifts the paper, pointing at the three blobs he’s drawn.

“You, me, ‘In.” Osamu laughs as he takes the art from him to study, tracing his fingers over the rough crayon.

“‘In?” Rintarou murmurs. The sound of him trying to teach Atsumu to properly say his name fades into the background as Osamu stares at the drawing. They may be misshapen, but they really do look like a family.

When the next phone call comes while they’re eating lunch, it’s for Osamu. He smiles a little to himself when he sees Aran’s name light up the screen.

“Hi, Aran,” Osamu says, holding the device up to Atsumu. “‘Tsumu, say hi.”

“Hiii,” Atsumu beams and Osamu is grinning at him until he realizes he’s drooling on the screen. 

“Hi, Aran-kun.” Rintarou leans in as he wipes at Atsumu’s chin and Osamu’s phone with a barely stifled laugh. 

“Hey, you three,” Aran chuckles. “Hope everything’s goin’ well.”

“It’s goin’ alright,” Osamu replies, scowling when the baby starts playing with its food again. “Miya Atsumu, stop stickin’ your fingers in your food.”

He puts the phone on speaker before leaving it on the table so he can keep feeding Atsumu his lunch while Rintarou swipes a rag around his fingers for the umpteenth time during this meal.

“Sure sounds like it,” Aran muses. “Shin and I were wonderin’ if ya wanted someone to take him off your hands for a bit. Give y’all a break.”

Osamu pauses as he’s about to give Atsumu another spoonful of corn puree, blinking at his phone like it’s a gift from God. 

“Are you serious?” he asks. He glances at Rintarou to see that even his eyes are widened in surprise. “Do you even have time?”

“We were thinkin’ of bringin’ him to Yumie-san’s,” Aran answers. “She wanted to help you two out and see Atsumu. Would ya be alright with that?”

“Y-yes!” Osamu exclaims. Rintarou nods at him vigorously. Atsumu makes a noise of complaint, demanding his food that Osamu happily gives him. “‘Tsumu, do ya wanna hang out with Aran, Kita-san, and Yumie-san today?”

“Ah-an!” Atsumu enthusiastically repeats, sort of, and Osamu exhales in relief. He has enjoyed these past few days, but he is only a man. A young student with no experience in taking care of a two-year-old. He can tell Rintarou’s on his last legs, too.

“Great! I can come pick him up in an hour,” Aran says. “Sound good?”

“Amazin’,” Osamu replies, smiling as he watches Rintarou lift Atsumu’s tiny fist in the air to wave it excitedly. “Thank you, dude. So much. Tell Yumie-san and Kita-san, too.”

After they exchange goodbyes, Osamu hangs up and looks at Rintarou.

“How should we spend our day off?”

Rintarou meets his gaze with a small grin, a casual shrug to his shoulders. “Can we go to the mall?”

Osamu chuckles, getting up to start cleaning while Rintarou starts to get Atsumu ready for his day apart from them. “Sure. Ya need somethin’?”

“Nah, I just like going with you,” Rintarou answers, pulling the baby out of his high chair. “It’s kind of our thing, y’know?”

He glances back at Rintarou before he enters the kitchen, forcing himself to stay calm. He isn’t sure why he suddenly feels off-kilter from Rintarou’s statement. It’s just going to the mall. The thing they’ve done since they were in middle school and had time to kill. 

But its prevalence in Osamu’s life is all because of Rintarou. It’s not that he particularly likes shopping. He just likes spending time with his best friend, even if it’s to do nothing but wander and find odd things that remind them of each other.

Something so simple has become so heavily associated with Rintarou, and from this week alone, Osamu’s realizing how much of his life revolves around the other man. 

Rintarou has always been a part of his life; Osamu can’t even remember life before knowing him. The strongest memory he has is of him being excited every time Rintarou came over to play, giddy over getting to see his neighbour again and again.

When Atsumu insisted on challenging them, Osamu and Rintarou were always on a team together, and it’s exactly how Osamu wanted it. Atsumu and Aran made good opponents when they played games, encouraging his competitive spirit the way only a rowdy group of 8-year-old boys could. 

But Rintarou was his teammate, even outside of their little games. He still is now. He is the one Osamu wants by his side and the one he wants to support. 

And when he thinks about it too much, he is reminded that the person who has become so deeply entrenched in his entire life is about to be ripped away from him.

He’s distracted by that thought throughout their entire trip to the mall. It fills him with dread, weighing on his chest so heavily that he can’t even open his mouth to speak. His silence is excusable on the way to Yumie’s house since Atsumu falls asleep, but Rintarou catches on fast when there’s no longer a sleeping baby behind them.

“Hey,” Rintarou pipes up, concern etching itself across his face. “What’s up? You got really quiet after lunch.”

Osamu’s throat suddenly feels dry. He could talk to Rintarou about it, but it feels like such a nuisance. He doesn’t want Rintarou to know how he feels because even he knows it’s too much. He doesn’t want Rintarou to leave Hyogo with Osamu weighing on his mind. Not when he has better things to chase after in a different city.

“Oh. I’m okay,” Osamu replies, cringing at the weakness in his voice. Rintarou doesn’t seem convinced but Osamu’s will is too weak, his defenses feel ready to crumble at any moment. He diverts the conversation and asks Rintarou how Aran and Kita will fare with Atsumu. 

It’s enough for the time being and Osamu feels himself lighten up a bit. The idea of their two friends having to chase Atsumu around their house distracts him, laughing along to the story Rintarou crafts up. 

“Osamu, Osamu,” Rintarou whispers conspiratorially once they arrive at the mall. He gestures at him to follow before strolling away without even looking to see if Osamu’s behind him.

Osamu lifts a brow but goes along with Rintarou anyway, amused by the trust his friend puts in him. He snorts when he catches up to him.

“A photobooth?” he muses. Rintarou lifts the curtain leading to the booth, tugging Osamu by the hand to get him inside.

“We haven’t done one in so long,” Rintarou says. Osamu’s about to make a comment when he sees them on the screen, shoulder to shoulder and lit up far too bright. His heart lurches. The last time they did this, they were still in their high school uniforms. Looking at them together now makes a strange feeling bubble up in his chest.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, watching as Rintarou plays with the different frames.

“Is this one okay?” Rintarou asks. He glances over at Osamu, his face close and so familiar. Even after so many years, he’s still the same Rintarou he’s always known, and it makes Osamu yearn for more time with him. He wonders what it will be like when he sees Rintarou again for the first time after being apart for a long time.

“Osamu?”

“Yes,” Osamu blurts, nodding at the border decorated with various cartoon desserts. His mind had wandered so much that he hadn’t noticed what Rintarou had chosen. “You have such weird taste, man.”

“You would’ve picked something worse,” Rintarou retorts, clearly biting back a laugh as he presses the buttons on the screen. “These options suck. This one was the nicest.”

“Sure,” Osamu muses. When Rintarou leans closer to him, he hesitates before he follows, suddenly all too aware of all his actions. He feels an arm wrap around his shoulders and can only think to drape his arm around Rintarou’s waist, doing his best to come off as casual as possible. 

“Okay, we get three seconds before each photo,” Rintarou instructs. “Let’s just go for it.”

Osamu laughs, copying Rintarou’s first two moves. A peace sign and a morbidly straight face are easy enough to do.

But for the last photo, Rintarou can’t think fast enough and turns to Osamu for help. Osamu looks back at him with absolutely zero ideas and they both start chuckling just as the flash goes off. It only makes them laugh harder, their faces so close that Osamu thinks that he could kiss Rintarou right now.

He freezes, laughter dying down and face going hot from the shock of his own wandering thoughts. Is the proximity making him crazy? He’s never thought so boldly of Rintarou before, limiting his imagination to at most the idea of them being in love.

Actually going beyond that is new. Osamu feels like he’s crossed a line he should never have even looked at. Rintarou has no idea that he just thought about kissing him and maybe Osamu should feel bad about it. 

But now that he’s done it once, he doesn’t think he can stop. 

His little meltdown just barely escapes Rintarou’s observant eye as he slips out of the booth to collect the printing photos and Osamu quietly takes a calming breath before following.

“One for you and one for me,” Rintarou says as he hands him one of the strips. Osamu takes it, running a finger along the edge of the glossy paper as he studies the pictures.

“This one looks stupid,” Rintarou chuckles, leaning into his side. Osamu feels himself warming up again, suddenly all too aware of his own breathing and how loud his heartbeat is. Will Rintarou be able to hear it?

He watches as Rintarou lightly drags his fingertip down the strip Osamu’s holding, lingering a bit on the last one. Osamu’s breath catches at the sight of them smiling at each other so carefree and so closely. Even though he’s the one in the photo, he almost feels like he’s intruding on their moment.

After what feels like an eternity, Rintarou moves his finger up and taps the second picture where they’re staring at the camera with straight faces.

“I like this one,” he says. He takes his own strip of photos and peels off the picture, sticking it onto the back of his phone. Osamu’s heart flips, knowing he’s become such an obvious fixture on something that Rintarou almost never puts down.

“It’s funny,” Osamu murmurs. He glances at the back of his own blank phone case, a plain blue that he could easily stick one of the photos onto himself.

He hesitates, weirdly unsure over something that should be so simple. It’s just a photo. But at the same time, he can’t help but think of how he wouldn’t do this with anyone else. He doesn’t even know if his other friends would even consider putting a sticker of them on their phone case.

“Do you want to put one on?” Rintarou asks, propping his chin over Osamu’s shoulder and unknowingly making him short-circuit even more. Osamu nods stiffly, deciding between the three photos. 

Rintarou is different to him in so many ways and Osamu probably should have figured out how he felt a long time ago. 

In the end, he chooses the peace sign picture, too weak to subject himself to the photo of them looking at each other so often. 

As they walk around the mall for the rest of the afternoon, Osamu finds himself absently rubbing at his new phone sticker in his pocket. He almost feels like he’s in a daze as he follows Rintarou in his wandering, not even batting an eye when they end up in a children’s clothing store.

“Heh.” Rintarou picks up a full suit set and lifts it to his chest. Several other articles of clothing circle them in the air as Rintarou picks up anything that catches his eye. “Wouldn’t Atsumu look cute in this?”

He makes a face at the sentence before laughing it off but Osamu’s too distracted to snap himself back into his usual self. It’s too late when he realizes and Rintarou’s already looking at him, confused and concerned as he puts the baby suit back on the rack.

“Hey, seriously, are you feeling okay?” Rintarou questions, putting the back of his hand on Osamu’s forehead. Osamu closes his eyes for a split second, almost letting himself lean into the touch before he quickly shakes his head and away. 

“Fine. Just tired from lookin’ after Atsumu,” he lies. “I’m recuperatin’ right now.”

Rintarou doesn’t look convinced, lips pressed into a thin line as he studies Osamu. It makes him nervous to be under his friend’s scrutiny like this, especially when he doesn’t want him to know what he’s thinking. “Really? There’s nothing else?”

“Yeah, Rin, ya don’t hafta keep askin’,” Osamu snaps, taken aback by his own harsh tone. He takes in Rintarou’s confusion and the tinge of annoyance in the furrow of his brow. Osamu’s chest feels heavy when he sees a flash of hurt on Rintarou’s face.

“Okay.”

The air around them is tense and Osamu can’t shake off his guilt, but Rintarou is already turning around. 

Osamu stays in his spot for a moment, taking a breath before he follows Rintarou without another word. He wants to apologize, but he knows that isn’t how they operate; not when Rintarou might be mad at him and Osamu is stuck in his miserable attitude.

It’s how it’s always been and Osamu is no stranger to doing damage control when it comes to the two of them. They’ve had years to fine-tune it. All it takes is a little patience, some quiet, and a sincere apology and they’ll be back to normal.

Osamu smiles a little to himself, even though he shouldn’t. If Rintarou catches him, Osamu is certain he’ll get the deadliest glare the other can offer. But the trust he has in them sorting this out is comforting and Osamu is grateful that there is someone like Rintarou who knows him; someone who has the patience to stay by his side no matter what.

It doesn’t take long for them to return to normal. Osamu manages to push his meltdown into the backburner of his mind. Making it up to Rintarou for ruining their shopping trip is his first priority.

“Rin,” Osamu tugs at his friend’s shirt to slow him down. Having him walk ahead of him for the last twenty minutes has been painful and Osamu wants to be beside him again. “Do ya want ice cream?”

He points at the stand innocently, but he knows Rintarou sees his apology. Osamu can’t help his grin when the other man pretends to deeply consider his offer.

“Are you treating me?” he asks, tapping his chin in faux contemplation. Osamu nods, pulling him closer to the kiosk.

“Of course,” he replies. “I’ll even let ya take a lick of mine.”

“A bite,” Rintarou corrects. Osamu narrows his eyes at him but he can’t help the huff of laughter he lets out when he sees Rintarou’s mischievous smile. 

“You’re a freak,” Osamu responds. Rintarou gives a very lackluster evil laugh, following close by as Osamu brings them to the glass case of flavours. He shakes his head to himself, wondering how he let himself get so enamoured by this man. The worst part is that Osamu knows he will let him take a bite of his ice cream regardless.

꩜꩜

On the fourth morning, Osamu wakes up incredibly warm and with something tickling his nose. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up and to realize Rintarou’s back is pressed to his chest, rising and falling with every even breath he takes. One of Osamu’s arms is dead asleep beneath him while the other is draped over his friend’s waist.

His friend.

They’d somehow avoided it all week, staying on each other’s side of the bed without crossing the invisible line. But Rintarou has somehow ended up slumbering in his arms and Osamu thinks he might go crazy, heart beating faster than it has any right to be.

Suddenly, Rintarou starts to shift and Osamu stills completely, holding his breath as the other man turns around until they’re facing each other. He watches, frozen like a statue as Rintarou grumbles something to himself before slowly waking up. His brows furrow in confusion when he registers the warmth that had confused Osamu only a few moments prior.

Osamu half expects him to shove him away and braces for it, but Rintarou surprises him by burrowing closer to him.

“Morning,” he murmurs. 

“You, uh,” Osamu stammers when he feels an arm wrapping around him, trying to make sense of what’s happening. Are they cuddling? Are they allowed to do that? Why can’t Osamu push him away? Osamu can’t believe how close they are right now. 

“Hm?” Rintaro looks at him like nothing’s wrong, and it’s completely normal to not only wake up in your friend’s arms but to get even closer after gaining consciousness. He’s stunned silent, unsure of what to say as he continues to stare at Rintarou, completely disoriented.

“GRAHH!” 

“Oh, my god,” Osamu gasps when Atsumu suddenly appears between them. He’d been so distracted that he hadn’t noticed the tiny human crawling over him. He glances around, unsure of how Atsumu even figured out how to get out of his crib and onto the bed.

“What are you doin’ here?” Osamu hisses, taking Atsumu in his hands and sitting up. 

When he gets off the bed with the baby thrashing around in his hold, he can’t help but feel like he’s leaving something unresolved behind with Rintarou.

It isn’t brought up for the rest of the morning. Osamu makes them both coffee and breakfast before they settle on the sofa to work.

“Bam,” Atsumu shouts, making his toy cars collide for the hundredth time this morning. Osamu rubs a hand over his eyes, mustering up a tired smile when Atsumu grins up at him. 

“Good job, kiddo,” he yawns, ruffling his hair. Atsumu laughs to himself and continues to make noises, content with playing on his own at the coffee table. Osamu watches him for a while longer before turning back to his work, the cursor on his document flashing at him tauntingly.

His eyes move on their own, sliding up to look at Rintarou who is hunched over and busily typing away on his own laptop. His mug floats right in front of his mouth so he can easily take a sip whenever he wants; an amusing habit he’d picked up in his undergrad and hasn’t shaken off since.

He seems to sense Osamu staring at him and they briefly make eye contact that only lasts a millisecond before Osamu almost flinches away. His cheeks heat up embarrassingly as he ducks his head down.

The air is awkward and quiet, save for Atsumu’s commotion, and Osamu really only has himself to blame. He doesn’t even know if Rintarou cares as much as he does.

Except there’s something that’s starting to gnaw at him. Friends don’t usually wake up cuddling after being forced to share a bed. He’s never done that with anyone until today and he could never think of that happening with anyone but Rintarou. If it had been anyone else, they would have laughed it off. It wouldn’t have mattered.

But it matters with Rintarou. And now Osamu’s starting to worry that he isn’t the only one who wants something more and Rintarou might feel the same as he does.

“Do you want more coffee?” Rintarou suddenly asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. Osamu’s cursor blinks back at him before he looks into the empty mug of coffee in his hand. His dazed face reflects back at him in the residuals of his coffee, a little lost and pathetic as he nods at Rintarou.

“Yes, please,” he says. Rintarou gets up and takes his mug, then leans over him to ruffle Atsumu’s hair before disappearing into the kitchen. 

When he hears the distant clamour of the coffee pot, Osamu sighs to himself and leans his head against the sofa in exasperation.

His friendship with Rintarou has always been so easy. They never argue because there’s really nothing to argue about. They know how to overcome disagreements and have never fallen out enough to have to deal with it. Everything has been so nice and simple because being friends has become entwined with Osamu’s DNA. 

Rintarou returns with a steaming hot cup and a soft look on his face. It’s not quite a smile, but when Osamu meets his eyes, his heart does a panicked little flip as he accepts the mug. He almost takes a sip out of nervousness before he thinks better of it.

It should make him ecstatic to entertain the idea of having his feelings returned, but Osamu can only worry about what that might mean for their friendship. He can’t assume things won’t go wrong.

What if being more than friends changes their entire dynamic? What if they start fighting about every little thing? What if they get tired of each other? Would the distance be even harder on them?

This entire week has given Osamu a taste of what it’s like to be with Rintarou all the time in a future where they’re together. And as great as it’s been, it’s also an extremely extraordinary circumstance. Like a home economics project, except, instead of the standard egg, they had to take care of Osamu’s twin brother who he accidentally turned into a baby.

It was fun, but they also had an end date where they were supposed to go back to their normal lives after. Osamu knows that when he thinks about him and Rintarou being together, he has to be realistic. He has to remember that they’ve been friends for most of his life and Rintarou is moving away soon.

Learning to navigate life without his best friend is going to be hard enough. Osamu doesn’t know if he can handle any more than that, like losing him altogether. He can't assume it'll be smooth sailing. 

“Yo,” Rintarou’s voice drifts over to him again. Osamu didn’t even realize he was still beside him. “Scooch.”

Rintarou waves a hand at him and Osamu hesitates before he moves his laptop off his lap. He shifts over a little, watching as Rintarou scoops up Atsumu into his arms before he sits in the spot he vacated. His friend swings his legs over his lap, hugging Atsumu to him as he squeezes between Osamu and the armrest.

“What’re you thinking about?” Rintarou asks, taking Atsumu’s hands in his and pawing at Osamu with them. Osamu’s lips quirk up in a smile, poking at Atsumu’s cheek. His eyes are so wide and innocent, it makes Osamu’s honesty bubble up and out of him before he can stop it.

“I’m thinkin’ about us,” Osamu murmurs. He looks at the baby for one last boost of courage before he looks at Rintarou.

It’s terrible. They’re so close and Osamu knows he isn’t imagining the hope on Rintarou’s face. He wishes this could be the part where he admits how he truly feels, but he knows it’s a bad idea. He knows he can’t give in so easily. 

“Us?” Rintarou echoes. Osamu nods, trying to say what he needs to instead of what he wants to, but he’s never been very good with his words. Everything feels like it’s lodging in his throat and Osamu doesn’t know if he’s ever been this uncomfortable before. 

“Yeah. You’re my best friend and you’ll always be my best friend,” he says sincerely. “Thank you for helpin’ me take care of ‘Tsumu this week. Ya really didn’t have to.”

He fidgets with Atsumu’s small fingers, noticing that even the baby has gone quiet. Rintarou chuckles quietly beside him and shakes his head. 

“It was nothing,” he says. Osamu gives him a look, pulling a laugh out of him. “Okay, not nothing. But I want to be there for you. I wanna be the one you go to for anything, Osamu. You know that.”

Osamu does know. And he would do the same. He wants to be there for Rintarou when he’s in trouble the way Rintarou is always there for him. 

But he hears what else Rintarou is trying to say. In the rare moment that they’re being so open with each other, Osamu can tell that there’s more to what Rintarou is saying. He knows him well enough and this week has made it painfully obvious how they feel about each other. But the future isn’t as clear.

He swallows, gathering his wits to stop the two of them from going too far. He would rather have Rintarou as a friend than accidentally fuck themselves over later and have nothing at all.

“Yeah. But Aran would’ve been down, too. Or Kita-san,” Osamu says carefully. "Ya don’t always have to be there.”

It’s true, in a way. He doesn’t want Rintarou to always feel pressured to be there for him, especially when they’re just friends. It even helps to emphasize that they are only friends, much like Aran and Kita are to him. 

But he sees Rintarou’s expression shutter a little and Osamu knows that even he doesn’t fully mean what he said. After a beat, Rintarou moves his legs off of his lap and Osamu knows he heard the subtle message he was trying to send. Even if he wants to take the words back, Osamu knows he can’t and this is for the better. 

The next day, Osamu receives an email from Professor Yoshitake saying she was back from her conference and would be available to fix Atsumu later that afternoon. 

It’s a breath of relief because Osamu doesn’t know how many more diapers he can change. He knows Rintarou has to be tired, too, from all this.

Except, watching him pack up his stuff and sealing off the week they’d spent together leaves a cavity in his chest that Osamu hates. He can only wait for it to fade when things go back to normal. This week amplified his feelings and realizing Rintarou might have felt the same only made it worse. 

When they have some time apart, they’ll go back to being the friends they were always meant to remain. 

“Thank you for everythin’,” Osamu says. Rintarou stops in front of the door, the crib and stroller and everything else they’d borrowed from the daycare trailing behind him. 

“Of course,” he replies. Osamu tries not to frown when he hears how stilted it is, opting to give his friend a smile. Rintarou returns it but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Text me when Atsumu’s back to normal, yeah?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Osamu lifts Atsumu’s arm to wave. “‘Tsumu, say bye to Rin.”

“Bye-bye,” Atsumu wiggles his fingers at Rintarou, looking a little confused as to why one of the men he’d been with all week was suddenly leaving. Something lodges in Osamu’s throat when he realizes he might never get to spend this much time with Rintarou again. 

As soon as the door closes behind his friend, Osamu hugs the baby closer to him and takes in a shaky breath. 

“I wish I was as small as you again,” he mutters. He takes them back inside to get them ready to meet the professor.

꩜꩜

It’s a little sad to part with the baby, but Osamu has to admit that it’s been weird not having the right Atsumu around. 

He watches the professor grow Atsumu back into his adult self in the infirmary of the faculty building, a little in awe of her power. Once his brother is back to normal, he sits up with the towel over his lap and wraps it around his waist before thanking the professor.

Then he turns to Osamu, smiling politely when he says, “I’m gonna strangle ya.”

“Alright, alright,” Osamu amends. He does feel guilty for taking Atsumu’s whole week away when he could have been working on his thesis. “Lemme treat ya to lunch.”

Atsumu seems to mull over his apology, grumbling to himself as Osamu hands him a change of clothes. “Fine. But I’m picking somethin’ nice and expensive.”

In the end, Atsumu does not pick anything fancy, but he does order the priciest bowl on the menu. He claims that he just wants to eat something that isn’t mush.

“So ya remember things from the past week?” Osamu asks. 

“Yeah, I do,” Atsumu wrinkles his nose. “Now I have weird memories of gettin’ parented by Sunarin.”

Osamu snorts, staring down at his rice as if the mention of Rintarou doesn’t make his heart sink a little.

“Speakin’ of,” Atsumu starts off. Osamu watches as he grabs the beer menu and whacks him on the head with it instead of looking at it. 

“Hey!” Osamu yelps, smacking his brother’s hand away. 

“Are you a dumb fuckin’ idiot? What was all that about?” Atsumu asks. “‘Ya don’t always have to be there,’ oh, that was so painful.”

He puts his head in his hands and groans at the memory. Osamu cringes, clearing his throat before he explains his reasoning to his twin.

“Okay, think of it this way,” Atsumu says, mouth full of food. “If ya decide ya wanna settle down, how on earth are ya ever gonna find someone as understandin’ as Sunarin? Who would ever know ya as well and stick by your side the way Sunarin has? And he’s put up with your ass for so long, too.”

Osamu frowns, pointing at the piece of rice that catapulted out of Atsumu’s mouth and onto the table as he was speaking before he responds. “Aren’t I right in bein’ afraid of what might happen to me and my best friend if things don’t work out? I don’t wanna regret anythin’.”

His twin sighs, swiping his rice away with a napkin as he looks at Osamu. “But wouldn’t you regret it more if ya never even tried?”

Osamu tries to think about it. They sit in silence for about fifteen seconds before Atsumu starts to speak again.

“Based on what I saw this week, it’s obvious that Sunarin values your friendship as much as you do,” Atsumu says, uncharacteristically thoughtful for once. “I don’t think either of you will let things fall apart so easily. And if ya can’t make things work with Sunarin, how are ya ever gonna make it work with anyone else?”

For a moment, Osamu can only stare dumbly at his brother. He forgot he was on track to getting his master’s degree. 

“You’re right,” he mumbles.

“What was that? Say it louder,” Atsumu goads. Osamu ignores him, too focused on letting his words truly sink in. 

He does care about Rintarou. He thought he cared enough to save them from going in the wrong direction, but maybe it's more. He cares enough to make sure things will work, even when it might be more difficult. If Rintarou is willing to do so much for him, Osamu knows he can and will do twice as much. 

“I don’t want anyone else but him,” he says a little louder. 

“Not that, but I guess that’s fine, too,” his brother shrugs. Osamu laughs incredulously before shovelling the rest of his food into his mouth and slapping a few bills onto the table.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” he announces, standing up and grabbing his jacket. “Keep the change as a thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m the best brother ever.” Atsumu rolls his eyes before shooing him away. “Get outta here.”

Osamu grins and runs to Rintarou’s apartment. He has no plan and isn’t sure if he’ll even know what to say when he gets there, but he doesn’t want to wait anymore. It already feels like he’s waited his whole life.

“Rin, open up.” He bangs on his friend’s apartment door, unsure if he’s even home. But the lock clicks and Rintarou walks out, confusion all over his face. 

“Osamu?” he blinks. “What are you doing here? Where’s Atsumu?”

“Lunch. He- I-” he pants, breathlessly trying to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry, Rin. I was wrong. It can’t be anyone else.”

“What are you talking about?” Rintarou asks, but it only takes him a second to understand. He shakes his head. “No, Osamu, you were right. You could have asked Aran-kun or Kita-san for help.”

“No.” Osamu cuts him off. “I could’ve. But I wanted it to be you. Like I always have.”

Rintarou stares at him as if he’s trying to put the pieces together. Osamu can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He feels like he’s going to explode and for once he thinks it’s okay to let it happen.

“Rin,” Osamu says, gingerly taking his friend’s hand. Rintarou doesn’t pull away, letting him lace their fingers together. “I’m in love with ya. I think I have been for years.”

“Oh,” Rintarou murmurs in surprise. Osamu watches as his eyes widen and he can’t help but smile when Rintarou squeezes his hand.

“And I didn’t wanna say anythin’ ‘cause the thought of losin’ you scared me. I already don’t know how I’m gonna navigate life without you right by my side; I don’t think I could handle you not bein’ there at all.”

Osamu takes a breath, every word taking a weight off his shoulders as he lets them flow towards Rintarou. He doesn’t know how long he’s been holding these feelings in, but it feels good to finally voice them. 

“But it was scarier to think of a life where I’d constantly ask myself what we could’ve been. I suddenly had this fear that I’d look back and regret everythin’, that I’d be lookin’ for you in everyone, and that you’d never know how much I loved you and wanted you,” he continues. “There might never be a perfect time for us, but I wanna try. I would do anythin’ to make it work.”

Rintarou lets go of his hand, but only to pull him into a hug that Osamu doesn’t expect. He feels warm all over, clutching at Rintarou’s sweater to be even closer to him. 

“Yeah,” Rintarou says into his shoulder. “I would’ve waited years for you, but I want this now.”

Osamu’s grin grows even bigger and he gives Rintarou a squeeze. When he looks up and Osamu sees his face, he realizes that he can finally do what he’s been wanting to do for a while.

“We’ll make it work,” he promises, leaning in until their noses are touching and their lips brush when he speaks. “We raised ‘Tsumu for a week. What can’t we do?”

“That’s true,” Rintarou laughs. When they finally kiss, Osamu knows that everything that led to this moment, and everything that comes after, will be worth it.

꩜꩜

“Oh, gross,” Atsumu says, nodding at their joined hands. “Look at you two.”

Rintarou snorts, taking the seat that Osamu pulls out for him. 

“Jealous?” he taunts, wrapping an arm around Osamu’s neck dramatically. Osamu rolls his eyes, trying to hold back a laugh. Atsumu just scoffs. 

“As if. Do ya need me to remind you that it’s all ‘cause of me that ya got your shit together?”

“And do I need to remind you I had to change your diaper and wipe your drool for a week?” Rintarou shoots back. “I have a lot of funny baby pictures I could send to your precious Omi-kun.”

Osamu watches as his brother’s eyes widen at the sight of Rintarou waving his phone in the air. He can’t help but let out his laughter when Atsumu grumbles in defeat. 

He glances over at Rintarou who’s already grinning back at him like his fellow co-conspirator.

Things might change soon, he knows. But his love for Rintarou won't, and he's more confident than ever that he can count on that.