Osamu sat in the middle of his room, the soft glow of his phone illuminating his face as he stared at the screen displaying his bank balance. Each digit, reflecting months of his relentless effort, seemed to shimmer with the promise of a new beginning. The days had slipped away like snow tumbling down a mountainside, time moving with a relentless pace. He had spent countless hours working non-stop under his annoying boss and the sun as he roamed around the street with a box of onigiri on his hands, saving every bit he could, and now, with just a few more months left, the reality of his dream was within reach.
The prospect of renting a small place and opening his own shop had moved from a distant fantasy to a sure reality. His sacrifices were beginning to bear a fruit, and the weight of his ambition was slowly lifting from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of anticipation. Each saved penny felt like a step closer to a future he had long envisioned, and Osamu could almost see the doors of his own shop swinging open, a space where his dreams would finally take shape.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but it faded into a frown as his brother’s text notification popped up on his screen.
Tsumu [18.45]
Samu, I couldn’t come home during off-season. I have to practice if I want to be the starting setter in the next season.
Osamu lay down on the cold floor, his eyes darted at the calendar sitting on his desk, a red circle marked the day, with “Atsumu coming home” scrawled beside it, a promise of reunion. The text from his brother remained unanswered, a silent reminder of the growing distance between them.
“You can take a rest, I’ll handle it from here,” One of Osamu’s co-workers said, a pat on his shoulder marking the offer. Osamu, who had been whisking eggs in a bowl, looked up with a nod of gratitude. He carefully set down the bowl, wiping his hands on his apron before slipping out of the bustling kitchen.
He made his way through the narrow, cluttered corridors of the restaurant to the side door, pushing it open with a sigh of relief. Stepping into the cool air, he sank onto a plastic chair near the trash bins. The chair was small and unsteady, but it offered a brief break amidst his busy hours. He settled into it, leaning back with a weariness that seeped into his bones.
The alley beside the restaurant was dark and narrow, lit only by a flickering street lamp that cast long, eerie shadows. Osamu stared out into the alley, feeling the weight of exhaustion lift just slightly as he took a deep breath. The chaos of the kitchen was a distant murmur now, replaced by the quiet hum of the city and the occasional distant sound of footsteps. He closed his eyes before reaching for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.
As he fumbled with the cigarette, trying to steady his hand, he felt the familiar buzz of his phone against his leg. With a flick of the lighter, he ignited the cigarette and took a deep drag, savouring the brief escape from the relentless pace of his day.
The phone buzzed again, more insistently this time. He pulled it from his pocket to find a video call from Atsumu lighting up the screen. A mixture of surprise and anticipation flickered across his face. He took a puff, and quickly swiped his phone to answer the call, the cigarette’s smoke fading as his brother’s face filled the screen.
“What the fuck, Samu?! You smoke?! Why the fuck did I not know about this!” Atsumu’s voice burst through the speaker, a mix of disbelief and amusement. His eyes widened in surprise, and a teasing grin spread across his face.
Osamu couldn’t help but smile wryly at his brother’s reaction. “Yeah, well, it’s not like you know everything about me anymore,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant despite the pang of guilt in his voice. “Also, I’m not a professional athlete who has to maintain my health.”
Atsumu laughed, shaking his head in a mock disapproval. He stuck out his tongue playfully, his face smeared with an exaggerated expression of disbelief. “Here I am, trying to be all healthy, while my brother is lighting up a cigarette in a back alley.” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.
Osamu scoffed, leaning back on his chair. “Sometimes, a little rebellion is necessary. Besides, it’s been a rough day.”
Atsumu’s expression softened, and he leaned closer to the camera. “Tell me about it. How’s everything going?”
As Osamu began to share the details of his day, the weight of his troubles seemed to lighten, if only for a moment, in the warmth of his brother’s company and the familiar rhythm of their conversation.
“Hey, Tsumu, did you fix your dye job?” Osamu asked, his eyes lingering on the phone screen. He stared at Atsumu’s face, now adorned with a platinum blond hair sitting on top of his head, a stark contrast to the dirty, almost brown kind of blond he had worn for so long. “Looks nice. I’m glad you finally discovered purple shampoo.” Osamu said, dragging on his cigarette and letting the smoke fill his lungs, which helped ease his weary mind.
“Yeah! Now I’m twenty times more handsome than you. Sucks to be you, Samu.” Atsumu replied with a confident grin. Osamu rolled his eyes, biting back a smile. “You wish, fucker.”
“You wish, fucker.”
Osamu’s voice echoed in Atsumu’s mind as he lay on his bed, his head resting on his right palm while his phone clutched on his left. He stared at the screen with a mix of longing and melancholy, his honey coloured eyes fixed on Osamu’s face. His brother’s hair had returned fully to its natural dark color, a stark contrast to his vibrant platinum blond strands.
The sight of Osamu’s appearance made the distance between them seem all the more evident. Atsumu’s own reflection in the mirror now seemed a world apart from his brother’s image.
Osamu kept talking about his day, his jerk of a boss, and sometimes complaining about the absence of their Mother at home due to her night shift job. The stormy grey of his brother’s eyes seemed dull in comparison to the vivid gold of Atsumu’s. Another differences between them that unsettled him, leaving him with a profound sense of loss and sadness.
“Samu, when I finally get to be the starting setter, you’ll come to my game, yeah?” Atsumu’s voice carried a hopeful edge, like a promise of shared triumphs and dreams yet to be fulfilled. Osamu, with a smirk playing on his lips, replied, “Of course. You’d better win and not embarrass me.” The light-hearted challenge in his tone thick with the warmth of his support.
“And I’ll come to your shop, too!” Atsumu continued, his eyes glinting with anticipation. Osamu chuckled softly. “I won’t give you a family discount.”
“Not fair!” Atsumu’s playful protest echoed through the line, he whined and pouted, which resulted in Osamu laughed heartily, his shoulders shaking with the force of his amusement. The sound of his laughter was a balm, easing the weariness that had settled in his tired figure after a long day of practice at the gym. Osamu’s smile stretched from ear to ear, making his eyes turned into crescent moons. His smile was always contagious, it brought a twin smile into Atsumu’s face.
Between the court and the kitchen, among the cheering crowds and the sizzle of pans, they would be fine.
