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Adult life is not happy, Osamu concluded.
Well, maybe it wasn't a universal rule, but in Osamu's personal experience, that was the way it was. Each small moment of joy being followed, almost simultaneously, by one with no joy at all.
Like now, for example. He just bought the building he was renting for his restaurant, he was happy. Fuck, he was so fucking happy. Then, to balance the scales of the universe, instead of celebrating together with his guests in Onigiri Miya, he was stuck in a gigantic gridlock, because of course the one day he decided not to take the train, the traffic would be in complete chaos.
But it's not as if Osamu complained, on the contrary. For every setback, he worked twice as hard, three times as hard, as many times as necessary. He made sure to take by force everything that life or the universe denied him.
Inside the car, he rolled down the windows out of sheer boredom and immediately a flood of stimuli hit his senses. The smell of smoke mixed with street food, the soft spring breeze, the sound of horns, engines, and literally thousands of people around him.
He heard a baby crying somewhere, a dog barking, and a plane slicing through the sky somewhere. Without even realizing it, Osamu was softly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and softly humming the chorus of some song playing loudly in a nearby car.
One of his secret, daily pleasures was to examine car after car around him and make up little stories about the lives of its occupants. That's what he intended to do while looking for the origin of the music, and that's when he saw.
Suna Rintarou.
In the car immediately to his left, with the windows half-open, talking to someone in the passenger seat and if there was still any doubt about this, the little onigiri tattooed on the back of his neck, the definitive proof.
The universe really is a curious thing, because if before Osamu was not happy, now he was pissed. His brain, so used to creating stories, invented one in which Suna and he were never broken up and he was the one sitting in the passenger seat talking, laughing or being silent with Rintarou's hand resting on his leg.
He closed the window again, as if the transparent glass would create a protective barrier and transport him back to a world where the distance between Suna and him no longer hurt him.
Osamu didn't want to, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed all the little differences in Suna. The hair a little shorter at the nape of his neck, the elaborate blue makeup in place of the familiar black eyeliner...there should be more, but Osamu forced himself not to observe too much.
The final conclusion was that Rin was still handsome.
At this point, Osamu scolded himself for thinking of him as "Rin" again. The man in the car next to him was Suna Rintarou. Not Rintarou, his ex boyfriend, and certainly not Rin, the ex-love of his life.
With his forehead pressed against the steering wheel and his eyes closed, Osamu tried to stop his mind from remembering.
He couldn't.
He saw himself in the first year of college and felt again that bunch of sensations that only doing something for the first time can bring. Somewhere in his consciousness Osamu wondered when he stopped doing new things and couldn't tell.
He didn't miss that time, though. It seemed like everything that could go wrong, went wrong in the worst possible way at the worst possible time. It was fucked up, because he always needed to read a book for the next class as much as he needed to sleep and eat, to, you know, live. And yet he had his part-time job in a restaurant that smelled of grease and served the worst food Osamu had ever had the displeasure of trying.
He had joined college to get a degree, but left there with a gastritis, anxiety and a bit of depression.
Without his parents and without his annoying twin, it was the first time Osamu was truly alone and he hated it. Coming home and finding an empty apartment was the worst of it. Everything was too quiet, almost deafening.
And then Suna Rintarou came into his life like a storm, which blew everything out of place and left a trail of destruction in its wake.
Osamu and Suna met about three times before they really got to know each other.
In the first, Suna hit Osamu over the head with a volleyball while he was watching a match. In the second, Osamu, not so accidentally, spilled his beer on Suna when they bumped into each other at a party. In the third, Suna and Osamu, immersed in their own worlds - Suna reading a manga, and Osamu trying to understand his economics notes - walked towards each other like two meteors on a collision course. Manga to one side, sheets and more sheets to the other, and for the first time they smiled as they met.
They were only officially introduced at the end of the semester, when they met at another party, no beer spilled this time. It was instantaneous, one of those types of romance that those around don't understand how it happened. The two of them were so calm and quiet, all people saw was the enormous silence when they were together. Okay, maybe they thought Osamu smiled more when Suna was around and Suna was not as sarcastic and sharp while talking to Osamu.
But apart from that? It didn't seem right. All six of their mutual friends had that feeling. Because Suna and Osamu looked the same but they weren't.
Suna didn't give a shit about college, so he hung out with his friends, went to parties, drank and smoked, played volleyball and at the end of the semester had a report card full of As. Osamu needed to give everything he had to get some B's, he liked parties but wouldn't risk going to one before a class.
Suna was all movement and change. Yesterday had already been, what could he be tomorrow? He wanted more, he wanted bigger, he wanted everything, he wanted now. And if he could choose, new was always better. New coffee, new restaurant, new music, new series. New, new, new, new.
Osamu was constancy and discipline. Repeating routines and patterns until they became habits. Like wash and rinse and repeat and repeat and repeat. Over and over and over again.
Suna wanted the best for himself, Osamu demanded to be the best of himself.
Then things started to go wrong. They barely saw each other, even though they lived together. Osamu was always too busy for anything but study and work, Rintarou wanted everything to be fucked up before he spent the night locked in a library.
They fought over jealousy and lack of attention, only to end up in bed with their limbs so shuffled that it was hard to tell where Suna ended and Osamu began. In bed there were no problems, there they were unique, they were unbeatable. After every fight and every fuck, they were sure that they would be forever. They were wrong.
The harder the studies got for Osamu, and the less Suna cared about college in general, the more the two of them bickered. Over everything, over nothing, it made no difference.
They were separated once, but got back together soon after. Maybe the stress Osamu felt from being with Suna was better than the sadness of not having him around, and maybe Suna wouldn't have as much fun if he didn't find Osamu in his bed when he arrived.
They promised to be better and kinder. Suna would stay home more and Osamu would spend less time studying. Suna would drink less and Osamu would have more fun. They would make it work.
And it worked for a while, until it didn't work anymore. Suna did his part and hardly ever went to parties again, but Osamu could not stop studying. There was always one important exam, and another, and another.
Suna blamed Osamu. They were young, they were supposed to do crazy things, not sit on their asses in a library and stay there until they took root. He wanted Osamu to want him more than an A on his report card. He wanted Osamu to want him so much that it hurt, that it consumed him, that it drove him crazy. He wanted Osamu's love to be greater, he wanted it to be stronger.
Osamu loved Rintarou, and if there were a single absolute truth, it would be that Rintarou took possession of Osamu's mind and feelings like a disease. And Osamu gave Rintarou everything he could, too bad that all the love Osamu had wasn't enough.
Then it is over.
They agreed to remain friends, but they knew it was a lie.
Osamu deleted Suna's contact from his cell phone, but not from his memory. They didn't talk to each other, but they didn't avoid each other either, and when they met at parties or anywhere else, they had this kind of nice, nostalgic and sad thing going on at the same time.
The first time Osamu saw him with another man, he thought that dying must be like that. He tried not to care, but he cried as he drove back home.
Osamu did not see Suna again, but found that dealing with his non-presence was even worse. There was a lot of him in everywhere. From the iced coffee he got used to drinking, to his fucking apartment that screamed "Rintarou" in every single room, to the dozens of manga that Suna made him read, to those silly Indie bands that Osamu got used to hearing when Rin was home.
Following Suna's life through the snippets of information her friends dropped in a moment of carelessness was almost torturous. This is how he found out that he and Komori were dating.
As I said, the worst that can happen in the worst possible way at the worst possible time.
This news comes along with the e-mail telling us that Osamu has failed his exams. It was not a surprise, not really. Neither was Suna's dating and neither were his bad grades. Suna was an amazing person, it was obvious that someone less stupid than Osamu would realize that pretty quickly, he thought.
The truth was that everything had been a mess in his head since... You know since what. Osamu couldn't sleep and didn't eat properly. It wasn't just because of Suna. It was everything. Suna, the college, his professors, his mediocre job, his own stupidity. He felt so overwhelmed by everything and he had no one in this big shitty city.
Osamu wondered what he was doing and what he should be doing. He didn't know the answer to either question.
As doubts tormented his head, his heart beat faster and his breathing became shorter, his chest hurt and Osamu couldn't breathe, his vision getting darker and darker. He woke up a few hours later in the college infirmary, with his brother holding his hand sitting right next to him.
They hadn't seen each other for a while, and they weren't the super affectionate kind of brothers, but Atsumu knew how to recognize when all Osamu needed was a hug, so he hugged him and let Osamu cry a little on his shoulder until he was ready to talk.
And Osamu spoke. About Suna and how he hated college, about how he felt stupid and was afraid he had made all the wrong choices, about how he wanted to make his family proud but after leaving everyone behind, all he had were a bunch of failures.
Atsumu let Osamu speak and listened to every word he said with the attention that only an older brother can have. And only when Osamu finally said everything he had to say, did Atsumu begin to speak.
"You're not stupid, you're just lost. But I've found you now. Everything is going to be all right. Ma and Pa love you and I love you too, you're not a disappointment. Do you hear me? Hey, look at me, 'Samu. We're all proud of you, okay?"
Osamu nods almost imperceptibly before Atsumu continues.
"And if you hate college so much why don't you leave? Fuck it all Samu, you don't need a degree to cook. Fuck it, that's it. Fuck this college, fuck your grades, fuck your shitty boss and fuck Sunarin too. You don't need any of that".
"It's not that easy, Tsumu. I need pricing studies, marketing studies, consumer habits studies, and a bunch more stuff that I should learn in college, but I don't".
"Bullshit. You need good food. That's all. I can help you, and Ma and Pa too. Even Kita-san, I'm sure".
"You don't understand, Tsumu. I have to finish, there aren't many classes left now".
"I'll tell you what I don't understand. I don't understand why you insist so much on things that clearly don't do you any good. Whether I'm talking about Suna or the college, you decide. But, damn, look at you. You look like you've been spit on by some animal's ass. I swear, Samu, nobody will be sad or angry if you leave, everybody misses you and cares about you. This place and these people are killing you, I don't want to find you unconscious in a hospital again. I need you to be okay".
Osamu went away with Atsumu and never came back. He didn't want to be a worry to people, he had to be okay. Or at least pretend to be fine so well that even Suna would believe him.
To move on and not care, not think, not speak and not remember until the routine became habit.
He returned home and helped Kita-san with the rice harvest. He worked from sunrise to sunset, without thinking, without doing and without remembering, again and again.
At night he tested recipes and researched ingredients and suppliers. He practiced kneading the rice into perfect triangles and repeated and repeated and repeated.
And it was at this time that the number 10, written in Suna's handwriting, tattooed on his wrist began to bother Osamu. He knew that even if he erased it, even if he covered it up, even if he tore off his entire arm, it would still be there, and just as he did with his feelings, he hid the number amidst the dozens of other drawings that covered every inch of skin on his arm, and only trained eyes, like his and Suna's, would be able to find it.
It was exhausting and distressing, but with each passing day, Osamu felt it hurt a little less. He would go whole days without thinking about Suna once, and he thought he was cured of it. But as soon as he slackened off a little, it would take over his thoughts, as if he still owned them.
So when he received the invitation to Suna's V-League debut, Osamu decided not to go. He wasn't ready yet. He didn't want to see Komori taking his rightful place in Rintarou's life, didn't want to see the smile that Rin kept just for him being given to another. He didn't want to want Rintarou.
Osamu knew that he could not forbid himself to love Rintarou, unfortunately. But he would forbid himself to entertain any hope of a future in which the two of them would end up together.
So he did. He did not feel joyful when he learned that Suna's relationships was not going well, nor when he learned of the break up. He realized that without hope, love is not so overwhelming, and he was thankful for that.
He became involved with a few women and a few men as well. For each of them Osamu gave himself a little, but he never allowed himself to be with anyone more than a few times. He was afraid of falling in love again and finding out that he doesn't know how to love, just as Suna found out.
He wasn't exactly sad about it, adult life wasn't meant to be happy, after all.
After all these years Suna and he were there, side by side again, and Osamu was pissed off.
He was pissed because he couldn't breathe right, his hands were sweating, his legs were shaking and he felt like all the butterflies in the world were flying in his stomach.
He was angry because, after all these years, the hope that he had repressed so much was surfacing like a volcano erupting.
What if he called her attention? What if Suna was happy to see him? And if they talked? What if Osamu said "I still love you"?
A loud horn, followed by another and another, as if all the cars were honking at the same time, caught Osamu's attention. As if out of a trance, he realized that somehow the gigantic traffic jam had ended and the only car stopped was his own - and all those behind him.
When he looked over, Suna's car was no longer there, and as quickly as it came, all hope was gone. Osamu felt empty like he hadn't felt in a long time, and it took him a few more moments to finally start the car.
What was he thinking? Osamu wondered.
Wasn't it completely ridiculous of him to love someone like that for so long? And if he wasn't enough for Suna before, why should he be enough for him now? What if Suna took one look at him and closed her eyes? And if it all went wrong, would he have the strength to pretend to forget Suna again?
On second thought, it was for the best. Osamu just had to believe it. Make that lie a habit.
He drove for a few minutes and then parked in front of his building, where his restaurant was. It was almost hard to believe how far he had come and yet, it felt like something was missing. Osamu continued inside the car trying to organize his thoughts, trying to get Suna back to where he shouldn't have left.
From inside the car, he could see inside Onigiri Miya and hear the music and the sound of laughter. Ma and Pa dancing together, Atsumu and Kiyoomi with little Aiko on their laps , Kita-san and Aran-kum, all his friends from school days and some he made on the way here, they all looked so happy that, Osamu wondered if adult life is not happy or if he was not happy.
Osamu took a deep breath and thought he had felt sorry for himself enough. He got out of the car and promised not to care, not to talk or even think about Suna again until it became a habit.
He walked as calmly as he could pretend, but just before he reached the door he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket, the notifications were a string of messages from an unknown number.
From unknown:
I think I saw you today
Is this still your number, Samu?
I hope so, i miss you. It's me, Rin, by the way
Sorry for the flood of messages, i'll stop
This is my number. Call me, or text me, or don't
I'd love to hear from you
Sorry, I'll really stop now
Man, I really miss you
Osamu thought for a second whether to answer the message before he started typing and sent the message as soon as he opened the door and finally reached his own party.
When his cell phone vibrated again almost immediately, Osamu read the message, but left the answer for later. He had people to greet, beer to drink, and onigiris to make.
Osamu looked at each of his friends gathered in his restaurant, in his building, and allowed himself to feel all that happiness, until the next problem came along. He hoped it would take a little longer this time.
From Rin:
I really, really, really missed you