Chapter Text
Iwatobi was home for Makoto and it will always be home.
That’s where his family is. The smell of the ocean breeze in the morning, the sun gleaming down on his face as he starts his day, the quiet movement of the neighbors shuffling around the stone pavement covered in dew. Although Tokyo was exciting and allowed him to see so much more of the world, there’s something about home that truly makes one feel at ease in a different, comforting way.
It was fun, coaching through university, being able to work with swimmers on a professional level and even travel to competitions with Haru, Rin, and many of their other closest friends. He felt like the experience he gained developed his career and his ability as a coach. But in the end, Makoto did really want to coach children instead. They were sometimes easier to deal with than professional, stubborn, egotistical, swimmers who were sometimes more stuck up than for Makoto’s liking. Plus, he felt like he found more meaning when an excited child finds a new love for swimming rather than an arrogant athlete winning a gold medal. Small things like that, Makoto realized that his true calling is working amongst those who could really use his help in a more meaningful way. Whatever that meant.
It really solidified for him when he walked through the doors of his childhood home and Ran and Ren greeted him with a different type of excitement than their usual hyperactiveness Makoto was used to. They were both in their last years of high school, the same age Makoto had been when he left for Tokyo. It was weird, seeing his younger siblings grow up to an age he once was. Despite being teenagers, well, young adults now, Makoto gives them both a big hug and something in his heart tightened between pride and a sense of childhood loss. He remembers when they were hanging from his arms as they played something like pretend superheroes all those years ago. But now Ran’s working part time at the animal shelter while juggling swim team. Ren volunteers at a library and is president of a club at the school. Both working on college applications. Both of them had grown faster than Makoto could blink.
His parents, too, had changed. Their hair streaked gray, faces lined with time. Everyone looks older, but Makoto probably looks a little older to them as well. Yet their eyes still held the same unwavering warmth, the quiet pride that had been there for as long as he could remember. He had visited often, called countless times since leaving, but this time was different. This time, he was staying for good. And that feeling was something else entirely. It was good to be home.
Sano was home for Sousuke and it will always be home.
It was the neighborhood Sousuke had grown up in for all his childhood right in the heart of Tottori. His parents along with his aunts and uncles all live in the area. It’s also where Sousuke went to school, met Rin, and where Sousuke’s father’s restaurant was located. Where Soususke has decided to retire to after he fucked his shoulder. Twice. It’s mostly healed, but Sousuke’s long since given up that part of him. Still making sure to keep in contact with Rin and watch swim competitions here and there. He found a new meaning once swimming wasn't at the forefront of his mind anymore.
He swam his last relay with Rin at Samezuka and retired from swimming officially. He occasionally goes to the swim club for slow, measured laps to burn off steam. It still felt nice being in the water. But it will never be the same. While Rin went off to Australia Sousuke stayed in Sano. Not exactly taking over the restaurant, as Kazuma, his ever excitable cousin, offered management instead. Sousuke didn’t think he was up for managing an entire restaurant himself anyways. So he and Kazuma worked together for the past eight years.
The first few years were rough. Sousuke would watch Rin on the tv that hung in the corner of the diner, swimming in international tournaments and championship meets. Sometimes next to Haru, sometimes not. Sousuke did feel a small sense of loss. Not being there, not being part of that world anymore. But it was his own fault, clouded by poor judgment and choices he couldn’t take back. He’s come to terms with it now. There’s no use dwelling on a path he can’t change. The swim world just isn’t somewhere Sousuke can touch anymore.
He would attend practice as an alumni at Samezuka in those early years post high school. It was nice being there while Ai was captain and then when Momo was captain as well. But some days the restaurant would need him more than the swim team. And eventually he didn’t recognize the younger Samezuka students as much anymore.
It was nice being around family though. Kazuma was always someone Sousuke looked up to like an older brother. Although he’s always pushing Sousuke to leave the restaurant, something about the place had its own charm as well.
In the end, Sousuke does genuinely like the restaurant. It was nice to be good at cooking. The old ladies, business men, and random travelers were fun to listen to. And the restaurants keeps him close to family. Being around his parents and spending time with his aunts and uncles have been something new for Sousuke since he graduated high school. The diner bringing him closer in proximity to his family considerably. After most of his friends moved away (let’s face it, mostly Rin) Sousuke found himself spending more time at family parties, dinners on Sundays, and teaching some of his younger cousins how to play a few sports. He felt guilty when he moved to Tokyo in high school. Distancing himself away from his family when all he wanted to focus on was the pool and swimming. After he was forced to drop it all, he had to find new purpose. And right now, that purpose was family.
It was joking around with his uncles around the grill on Sundays sipping beer in the afternoon sun. It was picking up his teenage cousin from school and teasing him about his puberty acne. And it was those small moments with his mom as he helped her weed the garden while she gossiped about her friends. Yeah, even though Sousuke misses swimming, he realized he missed his family too.
Kazuma is great also. A bit annoying at times, but what cousin wasn't. His cousin liked to call them business partners even though Sousuke is just content as the chef in the back while Kazuma deals with… Well, everything else. He even changed the name of the restaurant. His dad debated him for a long time, but Kazuma eventually won out.
Sousuke was honestly proud at how well they’ve been running the diner. He knows he makes good ass food. If he was going to work as a cook, he was going to do it well.
So Sousuke was mostly satisfied with life. Just enjoying it, mostly. Living close to the ocean, spending time with family, taking his time just enjoying the space around him and the people in his life.
But there was a tiny part of Sousuke that felt like something was missing. Yet he wasn’t exactly sure what it was and he’s not sure if he wants to find out. Or need to, really.
Makoto is missing something. He digs through his backpack as he sits on the train to the swim club. Unsure what it was that he forgot to grab this morning when he woke up late to his shift to Sano Swim Club. It was just a feeling and a feeling he didn’t necessarily like. He sighs and gives up looking up from the train seat and frowning out at the window, like the passing ocean will somehow tell him what it was he forgot.
Sano Swim club was fun to work at. Makoto’s been there for a couple months now. It was the swim club Rin met Sousuke, actually. It was a few train stops over and it was between here or Iwatobi returns with Coach Sasabe. It took Makoto a while to choose between the two, but in the end, Coach Sasabe said Makoto would always have a place there if he wanted to try something new first. He supposed it would be nice to gain experience at another swim club, to understand the different ways another one runs. Taking the best practices out of the two and eventually taking them both to their highest potential.
He can see how a swim club like Sano produced strong swimmers like Rin and Sousuke. The kids here were a bit different than the ones he taught at Iwatobi. More competitive, even a bit more toughened. Although the routines were a tad earnest, Makoto could tell the head coach and the students there wanted to swim to the best of their abilities.
It was fun teaching younger people again. From coaching kids, to coaching professional swimmers on the worldstage, to teaching kids again. Makoto felt like he was really well rounded in his abilities as a coach. The kids admired him when he told them swim routines from gold olympic medalist, the sights he saw as he went through swim competitions, and the hard work he saw from all the athletes he worked with. They were in awe, and thankfully respected Makoto’s words even more.
Being home was nice as well. Makoto got to spend time with his family, talk to Ran and Ren about their friends and school, and have dinner every night together. It felt lively after living alone for a while. When Makoto decided to come back he thought what he really wanted was somewhere to go at the end of the day that felt like home. And maybe with his family was where that was all along.
It felt sudden, when he realized training with olympians and professionals wasn’t what he exactly wanted to do for the rest of his life anymore. At least not how it was now. It was a learning experience and he felt grateful for the opportunity. He made lots of friends and met a lot of important people.
Though, something felt off and he wasn’t exactly sure what it was.
It could’ve been the fake smiles and stiff handshakes at sponsorships, or the athletes who cared more about the sport than anyone else’s well-being. It could’ve been the way that Makoto felt almost alone behind all the flashing lights and cameras only to come home to an empty apartment and longing to call his family. When he looked out into the ocean on some of those particularly lonely competition days, where the world felt much too large than what it was worth. He realized what he really wanted was to look out at the beach he grew up on. He could feel Iwatobi calling for him.
Days do feel more fulfilling, now. When Makoto helps the students increase their swim times and their eyes light up from their progress. Makoto comes home and his mom greets him with a smile and kiss on the cheek, dinner already spread out for the five of them. But for some reason Makoto still tries to figure out what he’s missing. Maybe it’s Haru. It’s a little weird, being in Iwatobi without Haru. Or even Nagisa and Rei.
His family makes him feel not as lonely anymore, but friends are a little different than family.
During his break Makoto scrolls through the contacts on his phone and frowns. Who was still in Iwatobi? Haru was off traveling, swimming as he pleases where he pleases. He picked up Makoto’s calls sometimes. They always made sure to see each other during holidays, every few months. Nagisa was off around the world as a traveling tour guide. Rei was studying in a science lab somewhere in Europe. Makoto was pretty sure Rin was at a competition in ShangHai last time he called him.
His coworkers wave to Makoto as an indication they’re off to lunch. Makoto gives a polite smile back. He likes his coworkers and likes being friends with them. There’s something different about his own friends. Missing them, wanting to see them. Wanting to talk about them. He clicks on the group chat he has with Haru, Nagisa, Rei, and Rin and smiles at the last photo Nagisa sent. Him and Rei met up and spent some time together. It made Makoto happy seeing the joy on Nagisa and Rei’s face. He needed to make time to visit Rei as well, he thinks.
Digging around in his backpack, Makoto shifts his work laptop and swim cap. His mom made a bento for him. His mother’s cooking was another thing that made him remember why he came back.
Oh. Makoto forgot his lunch today.
Sousuke forgot something today
It was an annoying feeling. Forgetting something and not knowing what it was. It can’t be helped, though, when he takes the back stairs down from his flat right into the diner kitchen.
Yamazaki Diner was a mix between American breakfast and Japanese comfort food. Serving cafe items like pancakes, waffles, and milkshakes but also items like tonkatsu, donburi, and udon.
“Don’t you think consolidating the menu a little would be easier on your chefs?” Kazuma had said when he first took over the restaurant from Sousuke’s dad.
“Kazuma, you’ve already changed the name. You want to change the menu too? I like my customers to have options. Especially when all the options are good,” His dad crossed his arms, clearly still upset about the restaurant name change, turning his attention to Sousuke, “The cooking has never been the problem. Right, Sousuke?”
Sousuke shrugged at the time, “I just cook.” He said simply.
Even if the menu was huge, at least even the most indecisive of people had options. Apparently that was enough for his father to grin in triumph and Kazuma to give him a look of you’re not helping .
So Yamazaki Diner, now Restaurant Kazuma (Sousuke uses them interchangeably because it’s not as big of a deal as his dad and Kazuma makes it out to be), continues to serve American breakfast cafe items and Japanese comfort food. For Kazuma’s sake, breakfast is served only in the morning and all else is served past noon. Sometimes Sousuke whips up pancakes for the old ladies after their bingo games on Wednesdays after 3pm, but don’t tell Kazuma that.
“Just in time for lunch!” Kazuma calls out, having had just come from gathering orders.
Restaurant Kazuma was charming, even to Sousuke’s standards. He grew up here, doing his homework in the back corner booth, filling sauce bottles and folding napkins, doing dishes or mopping floors. Scraping off gum from the tables and chopping vegetables for prep. Yamazaki diner has become a second home to Sousuke. It was why it was his second choice after swimming. It was comfortable, it had nice memories. Plus, he was good at what he did.
“I was thinking about coming in late just so you had to deal with the lunch rush on your own.” Sousuke grins, starting up the burner and wrapping his apron around his waist.
Kazuma fake gasps, grinning at him and ruffling his hair, “You wouldn’t dare! At least it’ll give me a reason to finally fire you.”
Sousuke smacks his cousin’s hand away, flatting his hair before he messes it up. Rolling his eyes, he moves expertly around the commercial kitchen. Gathering the utensils and ingredients he knows he needs. Sousuke nods a greeting to the other chef transitioning between breakfast orders to lunch and gets started on the house special for table 6 and the beef donburi with coffee for table 8.
Makoto leans his chin in his palm on the diner counter, his free hand fiddling with the laminated number 8 for his order. He got the beef donburi and a coffee from a local Sano diner one of the swim club students told him about. It was cute here but the menu had way too many options for him to choose from. He couldn’t decide between a sweet breakfast and a savory lunch.
“If you’re having a hard time choosing, our chef makes the beef donburi quick! Delicious, too.” His waiter, or Kazuma, the owner of the establishment introduced himself. He eyes Makoto over his little notebook and grins. Something about his eyebrows looked wildly familiar but Makoto couldn’t quite place it.
“Uh… Sure okay. I’ll order that then!” Makoto eyes the menu one more time, “Oh and a coffee! I need it.. Can I uh, get whipped cream on that?”
Kazuma makes a note with his pen. Then he looks up and down at Makoto, grinning, “Your figure is crazy, it’s almost like my cousin’s! Are you a swimmer too?” he asks excitedly.
Makoto nods, smiling at the friendly man. His energy reminded him of Mikoshiba Seijuro and Sousuke combined. He hasn’t seen either of the two in awhile, so it was nice to see this Kazuma guy bring that type of energy, “I do swim! I actually coach at Sano swim club down the block.”
“Sano swim club, huh? My cousin went there too when he was a kid. My brother is going there now! That’s hilarious,” Kazuma laughs heartily, it was a nice, deep laugh that Makoto can hear was twinged with nostalgia, “I’ll get your order right up. Sousuke’s beef donburi is the best.”
Makoto freezes at the name, “S-Sousuke? Yamazaki Sousuke?” Makoto knew that Sousuke had been working at his dad’s restaurant, having heard from Rin. He also has spoken to Sousuke a few times at Rin’s parties or on the phone during his early college days. He hasn’t talked directly to Sousuke in a few years, though. He always found Sousuke to be interestingly cool. He was calm, direct, blunt. He was funny, even. A little handsome, too. And his teal eyes were pretty. Like an early morning sky. Still, calm, bright.
Now wasn’t the time to think about how handsome an old friend of his was. Or Rin’s friend? He liked to think of him and Sousuke as friends. Maybe if they had been around each other a lot more their friendship could have been one that was closer.
Kazuma tilts his head and laughs again. “You know Sousuke? All you swimmers just know each other or something?”
Sousuke knows a lot of swimmers. Just from his own swim teams, athletes he’s met during meets, people Rin’s introduced him to.
Makoto on the other hand, the way he swam backstroke was wild, fierce, powerful. Even back then, Tachibana Makoto had a backstroke that was strong and impressive. In high school, it had only gotten more intense. Rin had told Sousuke that if Makoto truly wanted to be in the competitive world, Makoto could do it. Sousuke thoroughly agreed. It was a waste, actually, that someone who swam like Makoto wasn’t interested in competing.
Rin’s green eyed friend that was much too kind for his own good was intriguing to Sousuke. Despite Rin adamantly assuring Sousuke Makoto had no competitive drive, at least for the swimming world, Sousuke has seen small snippets of what Tachibana can hold. He’s seen him scramble around for his friends, be a successful swim captain for a team with too little resources and too little people, and Rin always bragged about Makoto’s achievements. Makoto was an anomaly. Giant muscles, surprisingly quiet at times, but overall seems like a generally good person with good energy.
Standing in front of Makoto now, it seems that Kazuma revealed Sousuke was the chef here, was not too much different from seeing Makoto in the last eight years. Makoto had always felt the same around Sousuke. He was always polite and always eager to learn about others.
Makoto had a tendency to talk about others, sometimes. As when Sousuke would ask about him when he saw him at friend gatherings Makoto would talk about Haru or Nagisa and Rei. As if it was easier to talk about other people than himself.
Sousuke slides the beef donburi to Makoto, smirking a little as the other man looks at him with a little too much excitement. Makoto somehow made it so that everyone looked special when he paid attention to them. Sousuke wasn’t immune either, “I didn’t know you were back in Iwatobi, Makoto. Are you still coaching as well?” He eyes the dampness in Makoto’s hair and the slight hint of chlorine on his skin. The Sano swim club jacket colors suit Makoto, surprisingly. It was nostalgic seeing Makoto and smelling the pool.
“Yes, I am still coaching! I moved back home to teach kids how to swim, too. You know, before they become Olympic athletes.” Makoto jokes but Sousuke is pretty sure Makoto honoestly sees it that way. Probably looking at every kid at the swim club with the potential of going pro and treating them as such.
“That’s good to hear. I’m sure Iwatobi is glad to have you around again.” Sousuke says sincerely. Someone as patient and soft as Makoto would be a coach. From what Sousuke hears, Makoto is a good one too.
Makoto chuckles while lifting his utensil and looks at Sousuke with curiosity, “What about you? What have you been up to?”
“Hm, working here. It’s my dad’s restaurant. Or was, at least.” Sousuke pauses, feeling like his answer was a little lame compared to Makoto’s worldwide coaching travels, “I’ve been spending a lot of time with my family lately. It’s been nice.”
“I actually came back to spend more time with my family as well,” Makoto admits, scratching the back of his head with a huffy, breathless laugh, “I was starting to miss them I think.”
After a few more minutes of polite conversation Sousuke felt he was required to have with a mutual friend. Friend? He wasn’t exactly sure what he and Makoto were, since they never really had the chance to spend too much time together. This may actually be the first time he’s been alone with Makoto without Rin or Haru floating around either of them.
Sousuke dismisses himself back to the kitchen before Kazuma scolds him for being behind on the lunch rush.
Right before he disappears into the back once more, Makoto calls out to him, “This is the best donburi I’ve ever had, Sousuke. Maybe I’ll have to keep coming back for more!”
Sousuke smirks to himself, proud Makoto acknowledged the taste of his food, “My breakfast is better, actually.” Sousuke calls back, looking at him through the serving hatch, with more cocky confidence one should have about food. But hey, Sousuke’s spent a long time refining the menu with Kazuma and the other line chefs. He knows good food and likes when others know good food too.
He kind of wants to take a picture because Makoto looks so damn happy sitting at the counter and practically inhaling Sousuke’s food. It would be funny to send to Rin knowing how much Rin adored Makoto. Sousuke feels around in his pockets and curses, realizing what he forgot today was his phone.
When he looks up, Makoto meets his eyes and smiles. A smile that was bright and genuine. He realizes he wouldn’t mind seeing Makoto a bit more often, either. It would be nice to be around someone like him for a change.
Makoto hopes Sousuke doesn’t mind that he now comes to the diner every morning before his shifts at the swim club. Sousuke was right, his breakfast was better. The first day Makoto looked at the menu that fused American breakfast items and Japanese comfort food all on one menu with confused and overwhelmed with options. Now he sits at the counter and lets Kazuma or Sousuke choose for him.
It’s been a few weeks now. If Makoto is rushing he’ll just get something quick. If he comes in earlier, Sousuke would whip him up with something like pancakes with extra whipped cream just like Makoto requests. Or he’ll serve a hearty plate of steak and eggs. Sometimes Sousuke would make a simple bowl of udon. Sousuke was usually busy in the mornings as the head chef of the restaurant, but the two always made sure to at least talk a little.
He wasn’t sure why he kept coming back to Yamazaki diner. It was comfortable and cozy there. It was nice being around a friend. It helped that Sousuke’s food was delicious. And it was refreshing being somewhere that wasn’t just home and work.
Okay, maybe he does know why he keeps coming back here.
Makoto always gets a hot chocolate or coffee. A coffee when he needs it and a hot chocolate if he just wants one. After a week he didn’t have to ask for extra whipped cream anymore, Sousuke would just give it to him.
Sousuke and Kazuma were pretty funny to watch interact. Makoto’s only really ever seen Sousuke with the younger Samezuka team or with Rin, so seeing him with someone older than him who Sousuke obviously looked up to and respected was different. Seeing a softer, more relaxed side of Sousuke allowing himself to be the younger person in the dynamic, was revealing. It was cute, even, when Kazuma would tease Sousuke about his terrible plate stacking skills or the way he always taste-tested fries straight from the fryer, and Sousuke would pout slightly. It made Makoto giggle.
Kazuma was incredibly friendly as well. It was obvious how dedicated he was to the restaurant and cared a lot about the Yamazaki family. The two worked well together, their partnership built on mutual respect and an unspoken understanding. Makoto liked it best when Kazuma would quietly brag about Sousuke, how much he’d evolved from a lone-wolf swimmer to a reliable figure in the family. Always ready to lend a hand. Makoto could tell that whatever path Sousuke chose, Kazuma was wildly proud of the man he had become.
The feeling was contagious. Makoto already thought Sousuke was admirable. How hard he’d worked to rebuild himself after everything, how much effort he put into taking care of those around him. But seeing that same admiration reflected through his family’s eyes? It made Makoto appreciate him even more.
Sometimes Sousuke’s a little too busy to talk to Makoto long, yet he always seems to make an effort to personally hand Makoto his morning sweet drink and special of the day.
“Waffles today. With sausages and egg.” Sousuke says with a hint of pride in his voice.
Makoto grins down at the pancakes, “Chocolate chips too? How did you know?”
“It’s not like you order something with sugar every single day or anything.” Sousuke grins, “I assume you have some type of sweet tooth with all that hot chocolate you’re always getting.”
“I don’t know how you’re always making something better and better than the last meal I had. You’re probably the best chef I know!” Makoto swallows his bite so that he doesn’t have to talk through a mouthful of food anymore, “Don’t tell my mom that, though.”
These small moments in the morning gave Makoto something to look forward to. Whatever special dish Sousuke or Kazuma picked for him was always a fun surprise. Kazuma was lighthearted and easygoing, while Sousuke listened when Makoto wanted to talk about their friends.
He also found that he and Sousuke had more in common than he’d expected. They liked some of the same video games, and Sousuke even recommended a few Makoto had never heard of. It was always fascinating listening to Sousuke talk about cooking. He once explained it as taking things you know are good and combining them in different ways. One step after the other. Like a relay, even.
Sousuke had joked when he said it, but Makoto could tell he truly meant it. He put that mindset into practice, whether in the kitchen or anywhere else. It was clear how much thought Sousuke put into everything he made. Seeing him so passionate about cooking and the restaurant was genuinely admirable.
They would talk about swimming as well sometimes. Sousuke would curiously ask Makoto about the Sano swim club. Probably at first out of politeness since it was Makoto’s job. Then Makoto saw that he was actually interested when Makoto would describe the different students there and the way they carry themselves in swimming. As someone who had some experience in coaching high school students for a little bit as an alum, Sousuke had some good insights.
No matter the conversation Makoto always thought they were always a little too short. Either Makoto had to start his shift or Sousuke had to get back into the kitchen to finish orders. There were a few times Makoto was almost late to the work or Kazuma scolded Sousuke for being behind on orders. Sousuke was just so easy to talk to, sometimes it was hard not to get lost in conversations.
“You know,” Sousuke offers after taking Makoto’s empty plate from him as soon as he notices Makoto’s done, quickly wiping down the counter with a grin, “You should just come to the diner after your shift one day. Then you can finally finish one of your long stories for once.”
“I’d love to.” Makoto finds himself saying immediately, a little more eager than he intended. He decides to push further though since it was fun being around Sousuke and there shouldn’t really be a problem about wanting to be around him more, “How about today? My shift ends at 6:45pm.”
“Yeah, actually. Tonight works. I’ll make you something good.” Sousuke has a pretty stoic face most of the time, but when he did smile you felt the price of its rarity. The way his eyes crinkled on the sides, the corner of his lip lifted into a smirk, and the light chuckle that escaped his lips made Makoto feel… happy. Proud, for some reason, about getting such a smile out of Sousuke just from agreeing to more delicious food and fun conversations.
Makoto glances at the fish shaped diner clock hanging just behind Sousuke and sees that his first class is about to start in five minutes. He stayed a little too long again apparently, “Okay, tonight! I have to…”
Sousuke glances at the clock too, less surprised than Makoto about him being late. He gives him a nod that makes him look unfairly effortlessly cool as always, “Sure. Later, Makoto.”
When Makoto rushes to the swim club all he can think about are the taste of chocolate chips from breakfast and teal eyes like the morning sky.
The morning sky wasn’t exactly Sousuke’s favorite. Especially when it was at buttfuck 4:30am for the morning diner prep and the trickle of guests who came in right before their early shift.
Makoto though, with his bundle of smiles and optimistic personality, made the mornings feel a little more tolerable. Always ordering a hot chocolate or a coffee, always with extra whipped cream, and always overwhelmed by the menu. At this point, Sousuke’s pretty sure Makoto just likes the chance to not have to choose something when Sousuke offers his breakfast of the day. Makoto ate just about anything, anyways. Easily impressed, his compliments spread on just as thick as the amount of jam he puts on his toast. Meaning every single one of them.
He found that Makoto was also very easy to talk to. He was talkative, but also wildly interested in others. Always poking and prodding with questions that Sousuke never even thought people would ask. One time Makoto asked is there a meaning behind why you cook well? When Sousuke described to him once about how cooking takes the best techniques from everything you learn into one dish. Kind of like a relay.
Makoto responded with something like well isn’t that how you cook well? Not why? He didn’t know what about himself made Makoto go all philosophical but it’s definitely not the type of conversation you can have in the 30 minutes between Makoto’s morning swim class and Sousuke’s back orders of French toast and sunny side up eggs.
It was easy to be distracted by Makoto. He always had such a weirdly positive way of talking about things. Even things he should clearly be frustrated about. Regular things got him even more excited. Like cat videos or his sister’s swim meets or the taste of Sousuke’s hot chocolate. At the same time Makoto carried a type of underlying and quiet intelligence that Sousuke personally felt was understated from when Rin talked about him. A type of mindset that was always thinking and wondering, but too nice to say anything about it often. Even about work, Makoto always spoke about the swim club students with such pride and joy. Sousuke found himself even asking about some of the students Makoto mentions. Surprisingly interested in their swim progress almost like they were his own students.
At least when his evening shift ends today, he’ll get to talk to Makoto a little longer than their quick morning conversations. He always wondered how long they’d be able to talk for when they weren’t interrupted by grumpy customers.
He absently grills a couple orders of burgers, thinking about what he should make Makoto for dinner. He always tried to mix it up for Makoto’s breakfast, mentally taking note which ones the overly enthusiastic swim coach liked the most. Sousuke found out quickly that Makoto was kind of a disaster in the kitchen. It was a little funny, actually. If it wasn’t so concerning. Sousuke makes a note to teach the guy how to hold a knife properly one day. All this somehow makes Sousuke want to show him even more different dishes. He remembers Makoto mentioned a beef stroganoff once a awhile ago. Maybe Sousuke will try to make that today. An off the menu dish. Makoto was a friend, after all.
Sousuke never thought he’d feel so eager seeing Makoto everyday. With his bright shirts that were always yellow or green or a weird blue. All of them always matched well with his eyes. Sousuke only notices something like that because Makoto’s eyes always told so much of what he was thinking. For how quiet he was about his own emotions, the man was an open book. How they shined and glittered when he was excited. When they furrowed with worry when he was talking about a student’s faltering swim times. When they crinkle just slightly at the extra whipped cream Sousuke puts in whatever sugary drink he requested for that morning. Coffee when Makoto was feeling more tired than usual, Sousuke noticed. Hot chocolate all other days. Some weeks there’s more coffee than hot chocolate. Some weeks it’s only hot chocolate. It was fun, finding out which one it was. Maybe it was Makoto himself who was fun.
He glances at the fish shaped clock behind the counter after serving his last table before the post lunch lull. Only a few more hours until his shift is over. A few more hours until Makoto’s shift is over, too. He should get started on making the sauce for for the beef stroganoff. He wonders if he should show Makoto how to cook it as well. It would be nice to cook with Makoto in his apartment, Sousuke thinks. The thought of the two of them side by side making dinner together did something weird to Sousuke’s chest. But he waves it away, thinking Makoto wouldn’t be that good of a chef’s assistant anyway. Not with the way he holds knives now. Makoto was honestly a little clumsy sometimes…
Makoto was… clumsy sometimes.
Not clumsy in the sense of ungraceful. Because Makoto can be graceful when he wants to be. Like when he kicks off at the start for a backstroke race or when he’s doing warm ups with his swim students. He was clumsy in a way that he mixed up salt and sugar a little too many more times than he should or sometimes didn’t know his own strength when cracking eggs. It’s very difficult to crack it without any shells getting in there. It’s a hard skill to master. Meanwhile Sousuke was cracking five eggs with one hand in swift movements Makoto could barely comprehend. Sousuke was wildly talented. Not just his cooking but also the way he holds himself up. How he interacts with customers and turns on a charm that de-escalates a furious customer. Even in some video games Makoto admits, Sousuke was also pretty good at.
Back in high school Makoto knew Sousuke’s swimming skills were powerful and measured. Now, he was able to see Sousuke’s talents and personality outside of the pool. He had surprisingly adept observational skills and Makoto felt like Sousuke always showed he was listening to the people he was talking to. He was straightforward but had a kind heart that was more attentive than Makoto expected. Sousuke was admirable in every sense. He really didn’t want to stop learning more and more about Sousuke. As if there was so much more hidden behind those bright, teal eyes and soft, rare smiles.
Makoto has three classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, four classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. Then on Fridays he runs the adult swim classes for the elderly age range and then water pilates for club members. So to say, he’s a pretty busy person. The swim club needs to hire more coaches, honestly. Working at Sano was fun. He got to meet a lot of people and coach dynamically for all age ranges. Makoto compares them to the athletes he’s coached in the past. He’s met egotistical and stubborn athletes who were crazily good at their specialties. Seeing professionals swim with such esteem was an honor.
The people of Tottori, however, reminded Makoto why it felt nice being with just people. People who saw swimming not as their main drive of the day but just something they do for fun. There were some people who took it very seriously. Then there were some who Makoto felt like knew what they wanted from life and was just hanging around. Enjoying their time. Not worried about the next competition or gold medals, but about the next time they’ll see their mom or what movie they’ll watch on Sunday.
It’s been eight years since Makoto left Iwatobi after high school. Four years of university, two years of a masters in sports education, seven years of hands-on hands experience in coaching on a national level. He was proud of everything he’s achieved.
In the end the spotlight was a little too bright and felt a little too lonely. Maybe even fake at times. At least at home, Makoto could be around people who were real.
For some reason, Makoto’s mind floats to Sousuke again. Sousuke was… real. He always said what was on his mind. He did what he wanted when he wanted. But he always made sure to still slow down for those around him. While also motivating them to catch up with him, if that made sense.
For how cold and distant Sousuke could be to the world, with his shoulder injury and a dream that was just out of reach, Sousuke seemed to still be content with what he has. Makoto felt like he felt lighter when swimming wasn’t the main thing on his mind. Sousuke talks about the restaurant and his family with such repose. Just spending time with good company and surrounding himself with the things he loves doing.
Maybe that’s what life is about. Maybe Sousuke’s got it figured out. He sure looked like he did. The way he flips pancakes with ease, standing cooly against the counter when he makes a quip at Makoto even in an apron covered in powdered sugar and grease Sousuke still looked handsome. Cool. Handsome and cool.
Sousuke was funny too. His dry jokes and sarcastic humor actually reminded Makoto of Haru. Sousuke would grumble about the old ladies’ bingo games and their matching sweatpants. Or he’d point out how a teenager in baggy clothes walked in acting just like Rin.
Sometimes, he was just funny without meaning to be, like when Kazuma teased him about his teenage years, and he’d roll his eyes with a pout. Or when he would play rock, paper, scissors with Makoto and somehow lose every single time.
Cool, handsome, funny. Makoto thought of those words when he thought about Sousuke. Now real. Real was a new one. Finding out more and more about Sousuke felt like filling in the pieces one by one with every conversation he had with the chef. This was one of the fun things about meeting a new friend. Old friend, really. Sousuke was definitely his friend. Maybe he always has been and they just haven’t had the chance to properly be around each other until now.
Makoto was even more excited about seeing Sousuke after work. He tries to shake messy diner aprons and deep, hearty laughs from his mind as he starts his mid morning class on the next exercise. Only a few more hours until his shift is done.
His shift is done. Makoto said he was out at 6:45pm, Sousuke finished his last table at 6:00pm. He has the beef stroganoff simmering on low and covered to give it a little bit more depth with the seasonings he put in there. He was pretty proud of this one. He pats the evening chef on the shoulder and threatens him not to touch the pot while he heads upstairs.
If he was going to hang out with Makoto when he wasn’t working might as well just dress normally. Makoto was always seeing Sousuke in his greased up apron and hair pulled back in a bandana. Sousuke scans his closet, picks out a dark green t-shirt and simple dark jeans. Heading to the shower while he had time.
He pads over to the shower, turning it on hot and steps in, letting the heat of the water beat onto his muscles. Sousuke made sure to stay in shape even if he wasn’t swimming as much anymore. He stretches his shoulder like he always did in high school, still now in the habit of checking its strength after all these years. Sousuke sighs and closes his eyes, letting the water run down his face thinking about nothing and everything at once.
He thought about his family. Swimming. Rin. The diner. He thought about his shoulder. His dreams. What could’ve been and what didn’t happen. He thinks about Kazuma. His parents. Sousuke thought he was pretty efficient when it came to thinking. Having every thought at once in showers allowed him to process things and then push it away when he had to step out of the water into the cold, chilling reality of it all.
Then he thinks about Makoto. He was thinking about Makoto a lot lately. The guy tells him so much it was hard not to think about their conversations again. About Makoto’s coaching classes, what he should serve Makoto for breakfast the next day, whether or not Makoto would be in a coffee mood or hot chocolate mood. Whether Makoto would have one of those fake smiles when he was hiding how tired he was or those genuine ones that make his laughter lighter and more infectious.
There were things about Makoto that surprised Sousuke, too. Underneath that fluff of green and warm kindness revealed another layer of some surprisingly competitive showoff that exists somewhere in there. Sousuke has only seen parts of it when Makoto’s eyes glint with mischievousness by quipping Sousuke back with something surprisingly quick or when he brags about a killstreak in a game he had gotten. There were layers of Makoto that went beyond his kindness and Sousuke was intrigued enough to peel them back.
Makoto was… Big. He has nice muscles that shaped him well and height that Sousuke doesn’t really see too often. It was surprising seeing Makoto in high school, immediately noticing his size and build. It was natural to observe another swimmer’s body, Sousuke reasons with himself. It seems Makoto does his best to stay in shape too. His arms peeked out from under his swim club jacket. Back muscles defined by every stretch and pull of his shoulder while he swam, calves that kicked off the pool wall in those damned relays. He didn’t understand how someone with muscles like that could have a face as soft as Makoto’s. He was a walking contradiction. Yet it still suited him in his own Makoto way.
Sousuke felt his cock twitch under the shower head and thinks he should stop thinking about Makoto, at least right now. There was no need to think about his hot friend and how he always has whipped cream somewhere on his lips. Every time Sousuke pointed it out Makoto would blush a little too cutely for a man his age and wiped it away shyly with a little laugh.
Sousuke turns his shower to cold and tries to think of gross things instead. Like cleaning the grease hatch or scrapping the gum from the bottom of the diner tables.
Oh crap. He needs to check on the beef stroganoff.
Makoto looks down at the beef stroganoff in awe. He remembers mentioning it a long time ago when he, Sousuke and Rin were spending time at Haru’s dorm while they were still attending University. Sousuke had come into visit with Rin. At the time, Makoto was taking a nutrition class where the professor lectured about different recipes and the way to include different food groups in all kinds of dishes. Makoto named several dishes he wanted to try cooking, beef stroganoff was one of them. He never really ended up learning how to cook it. He didn’t really learn how to cook anything that was all that impressive, which was a small regret he had when he lived alone. He sometimes felt like the failure of cooking beef stroganoff despite his determination at the time was a metaphor for something.
But now, with this impressive looking beef stroganoff being served to him with an aroma better than anything Makoto has ever smelled before, maybe whatever failure the beef stroganoff was a metaphor for didn’t really matter anymore.
He looks up from the plate served in front of him and meets Sousuke’s eyes. He has a cocky smirk, proud about Makoto’s awe. And was that a glint in his eye? Makoto laughs slightly, “This looks delicious! Though, you look awfully proud of someone who cooks for me every day already.”
“It's off the menu. You better be impressed.” Sousuke huffs, picking up a for himself and stabbing into the egg noodles. Makoto quickly follows suit, his mouth watering.
“Oh I feel special. The head chef of Yamazaki diner chose my breakfast and dinner today?” Makoto hums, taking a bite of the dish. Everything Sousuke made was delicious. The depth of flavor in the sauce that the pasta sat in was better than anything Makoto has ever had. The beef was seared evenly, the noodles were cooked tender. It was easy to tell how much effort Sousuke put into this dish.
Sousuke grins, “Hm, you should feel special. You’re the only customer who took so long looking at the menu everyday, Kazuma and I had to take mercy on you.”
He wore something nice today, Makoto thinks to himself. The dark green of Sousuke’s simple t-shirt outlined his muscles, hugging his biceps nicely. He realized he’s never really seen Sousuke out of his cooking apron since he’s reconnected with him in the diner.
“What do you expect? If you two keep choosing something delicious I’m only going to trust your opinion from now on.” Makoto takes another bite of beef stroganoff, getting a little too distracted at the way the shirt lines Sousuke’s collarbones, immediately regretting the heat that meets his tongue.
He blows air out of his mouth, how very smooth, Makoto, attempting to cool the food. It was something about Sousuke’s easygoing, suave nature that made Makoto a little self conscious sometimes. Sousuke laughs again, muttering something about making sure the food is cooled down before eating too fast.
Makoto hopes Sousuke didn’t think of him as childish or anything. Unable to choose from the menu and unable to know when his food was too hot. Makoto tries to straighten up in his seat in the booth. He didn’t understand why he felt so… awkward suddenly.
He sits in front of Sousuke every morning and they always have easy conversations. However, right now, they shoved themselves in a booth at the back corner of the diner, the same one Sousuke mentioned he would alway do his homework in when he was younger. The evening staff shouting orders for customers ordering dinner for the night.
It felt intimate for some reason, finally being able to talk to Sousuke for longer than 15-30 minutes then suddenly not knowing what to say anymore. Makoto tries to force himself to relax and remind himself it’s just Sousuke. It’s just Sousuke… Sousuke…
“Makoto.”
Sousuke can tell Makoto was a little off today. Maybe it was a weird day at the swim club. What if somehow Makoto can tell Sousuke thought about him in the shower? No. That would be ridiculous. Makoto was magic but he’s not that type of magic.
Sousuke decides that if Makoto did have a bad day at work, he would enjoy something nostalgic. Makoto was a bit softhearted like that. His eyes would light up when Sousuke talked about his childhood and similar other lame things. Sousuke rubs his index finger on the bottom of the diner table. His finger tracing over the familiar and dated carvings he did from when he was a kid. On those days where homework was too boring and his dad’s shifts at the diner were too long, “Here. Look, Makoto.”
He gestures under the table and looks under, curious to see how it looks now. He almost wants to sigh in relief when Makoto meets him under the table too. Part of him worried that Makoto thought he was crazy for basically wanting him to fit under the cramped diner table.
On the underside of the wood Sousuke carved all those years ago, a little bit after Rin transferred to Iwatobi, was a crude drawing of a shark. Looking at it now, it kind of reminds Sousuke of Rin a little. He taps the shark, his grin accidentally forming into a small smile, “I carved this when I was bored once. My dad yelled at me for hours.” Sousuke chuckles at the memory, looking over at Makoto who's straining his neck to see the carving as well. Makoto laughs along with him, the noise feeling lighter than what he felt on Makoto earlier.
“You must’ve really missed him, huh?” Makoto laughs, sounding wistful on behalf of him.
Sousuke tries his best not to react. Yes. He might’ve missed Rin a lot after he transferred to Iwatobi. He highly doubts the shark carving he did while he was bored one day was related to that. That would be embarrassing…
He glances at the shark again, tracing over the carving once more, noting the uneven lines and sharp teeth. It really does remind him of Rin, now that Makoto’s confirmed it. He thinks about the small twinge of loneliness he felt after Rin left. Hiding behind swimming competitions and pushing his body beyond his limits. He had no idea what he was feeling back then. No idea what he wanted from life. What was really happening at that time was that he missed his best friend.
“Yeah,” Sousuke finally admits both to Makoto and himself. His voice softer than he’s ever heard himself in awhile, “I guess I did miss him a lot back then.”
Makoto gives him a smile, still bending his neck under the table just to look at these dumb carvings with him. Although Sousuke felt a little embarrassed his sentimental adolescence during Rin’s absence manifested itself into a permanent marking under the table, Makoto managed to not make it feel so stupid. His attentive eyes and soft smile bordering on understanding and fond shared nostalgia.
“And is that yours too?” Makoto asks, pointing at something else Sousuke apparently drew. This time it was a cat. Just as crude as the shark. Imperfect circle, uneven whiskers. Makoto chuckles, it was almost like a giggle, “Oh your dad must’ve really given you an earful if you did a second drawing too.”
“What can I say, I was a rebellious kid growing up.” Sousuke sits up in the booth, watching Makoto do the same.
He watches as Makoto looks down at the beef stroganoff in front of him again, his fork playing with the noodle absently. The same one Sousuke watched him burn his tongue on. Something obviously on his mind. Sousuke waited to see if Makoto would bring up what he wanted to say. Makoto was surprisingly open when he had the chance to be.
The man across from him looks up. Guilt, nostalgia, tenderness, what else could Sousuke identify on Makoto’s expression before he even said anything?
“You know back in college…” Makoto starts, almost startling Sousuke when he realized how long he’s been staring at him, “I always wanted to learn how to cook beef stroganoff. I looked through cookbooks and watched tutorial videos. Then one week I bought all the groceries for it and told myself I was finally going to cook it,” Makoto looks up from his plate to meets Sousuke’s eyes before he continues.
“I ended up not even making it because I was so busy with my part time job and finals. The heavy cream ended up expiring and we used the meat for a different dish when some friends came over. Then I told myself I was going to try again one day but never did…”
“And here you are just serving it to me now, homemade on a silver platter, probably better than I would’ve ever made it,” Makoto pauses, as if checking to see if Sousuke was still listening. His voice becomes a slight bit quieter, “I thought I was a failure for never learning despite wanting to so badly. It was just funny you made beef stroganoff, of all things.”
Not knowing how to cook beef stroganoff but coaching on the world stage, going through six years of school, and going on to teach swimming to every age demographic in Japan. This guy seriously thought of himself as a failure for not knowing how to cook some pasta?
“Well, I’ll teach you how to make it one day. I’d be like your beef stroganoff coach,” Sousuke offers like it’s the easiest solution in the world. He always felt like he could just say whatever he felt to people, but Makoto made him want to make sure what he said was comforting and helpful. Like Makoto always did for others, “And you’re not a failure for not knowing how to cook it. You just… Never had a proper trainer. Though…” Sousuke tilts his head slightly, debating if he should continue or if the next thing he wants to say would be overstepping any boundaries with Makoto.
“Though?” Makoto urges him to continue.
“Though… I think it’s ironic that one of the few things you wanted to learn for yourself and yourself only was pushed back.” Sousuke lets out a shallow laugh, “I’ll help you though. I promise.”
Sousuke can tell Makoto was a little stunned at his words. A mix between existential realization and maybe a little bit of relieved gratitude. Sometimes Makoto had too many emotions on his face to differentiate them all. He wonders if he’d be able to recognize all of them one day.
Eventually Makoto’s five-emotion-face blends into something softer. One of those kind smiles Makoto always gave, this time, however, there was a tiny bit of something else Sousuke didn’t recognize. Couldn’t recognize. Not when Makoto’s looking at him like that.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” Makoto says so softly in a way that makes Sousuke chest pull. He can see the earlier tension in Makoto’s shoulder is gone. Whatever that was. Then the two continue talking, allowing their conversation to flow freely without the scheduling of work holding them back. Not when the evening sun is slowly drifting down, the customers in the diner slowly trickling out, and the two are so captured in their conversations they barely notice the stars twinkling in. Taking them further into the night.
Deeper and deeper into the night Makoto didn’t notice the diner emptying out as he listened to Sousuke talk about his mom’s garden. Ranting about weeding and way too many plants he didn’t understand. Nonetheless, the love for his mom was clear when his voice would warm as he fondly spoke about her.
Deeper and deeper into the night Makoto didn’t notice the diner staff cleaning up as he and Sousuke debated between the best superhero movie released in the past ten years.
Deeper and deeper into the night Makoto didn’t even realize when Sousuke waves Kazuma goodbye, promising to lock up, while he was in the middle of telling a story about his family vacation and how Ran and Ren pranked their dad by writing with sunscreen on his back. The two were consumed by laughter, conversations that lingered between psychoanalyzing their friends and family, and high stakes arguments about shows and movies that didn’t really matter.
There was something about talking with a friend late into the night. Unable to stop conversations and no signs of it wavering. The two take turns listening to each other and their different thoughts. The feeling of talking to someone for so long, who aligns in conversation style to the point where they don’t even notice it’s bordering on 3am and everyone around them has disappeared. Yet Makoto and Sousuke are still stuck on their conversation about who is the best video game villain of all time. Discussing everything and nothing at all.
Makoto doubts he’ll remember every single topic of conversation he had with Sousuke tonight, but he’ll never forget the feeling of being suspended in time. Having endless conversation with someone who thinks similarly yet completely different all at once. Being able to just say whatever was on his mind whether Sousuke would agree with it or not. He doesn’t think he’s ever talked to someone to this degree. Sousuke was still handsome, funny, cool, and real. But he was also fascinating, intelligent, intriguing, and surprisingly sensitive and intuitive.
Makoto has had many friends. But he doesn’t think he’s had one like Sousuke before.
Sousuke hasn’t had a friend like Makoto before.
Of course Sousuke has friends. Rin was his best friend whom he respected and admired to the highest degree. No one inspires him the way Rin does. Then Kisumi is someone who Sousuke has always had by his side. They have their moments that Sousuke enjoys and feels genuinely connected with him. Then he has a few guys from Tokitsu that Sousuke would consider some of his most trusted people.
But Makoto. Makoto was different.
Makoto would remember things Sousuke didn’t even remember telling him. He would be attentive to the slightest edge in Sousuke’s posture. Makoto asked about family members Sousuke told him about but never met. Most of all, Makoto had such bright energy Sousuke couldn’t understand radiated from him. Makoto could ask any question to Sousuke and for some reason, Sousuke would feel compelled to answer truthfully. Whenever Makoto had a look on his face that was clearly overthinking about something, Sousuke would want to know why he’s thinking so hard. This may be just because Makoto tended to be a bit clumsy, but Sousuke was also just looking out for Makoto constantly. Catching a cup when he accidentally knocks it over. Taking his finished plate before he can say anything. Topping off his coffee when Sousuke notices he was having a harder morning than usual.
It was natural and easy for Sousuke to pay attention to him. He couldn’t help it. Makoto was always facing toward someone or something else he was never paying attention to himself.
It was way past closed when Sousuke realized he and Makoto had been sitting in this booth for hours. Just as easy as it was to take care of Makoto it was easy to talk to him too. Makoto could talk about everything and anyone, it seems like. Just endless questions after questions. Do you think this person is okay? Do you think these people get along? Why do you think that? How do you think that? How are you, Sousuke? No really, how are you?
When Sousuke looks into those green eyes that are really only looking for honesty and friendship behind them, who’s Sousuke to deny him?
Sousuke doubts he’ll remember every single topic of conversation he had with Makoto tonight. But he’ll always remember the feeling of being lost in him. Sousuke didn’t even think he had the ability to talk this much to someone. Something with Makoto just clicked. To be able to say whatever was on his mind and wanting to know what was on Makoto’s mind too.
“Do you feel any regret?” Makoto asks almost shyly, despite how animated he was about action movies just ten minutes ago, “About how things ended with your shoulder?”
Sousuke leans back in the booth, the question catching him off guard only because he’s surprised Makoto had the balls to ask. But when you’re suspended in time with a friend in the middle of the night, any conversation topic goes, right?
Did Sousuke have regrets? Overworking his shoulder to the point of no return. Then fucking it up a second time just to seal the deal. At the time, Sousuke’s world evolved around swimming and Rin. Being able to meet him on the world stage was Sousuke’s one true goal as a kid. He laughs, hoping it doesn’t sound too bitter in front of Makoto.
“Yeah, I have a few,” Sousuke answers, “But since you can’t really change back time, you make the most of what you’re given. I think despite my regrets I’m able to still live a life I enjoy. I think.”
“With the restaurant and your family?” Makoto smiles.
“Exactly.” Sousuke smiles back, “What about you? Is that anything you regret?”
Makoto looks at him thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t say I have any regrets. I think the path to where I got fell into place well. I know I’m pretty lucky about that. But…” Makoto bites his lip, Sousuke’s eyes follow, then Makoto gives him a smile that was more melancholic than his usual ones, “I do wish it was easier to see what’s important to me.”
Funny, Tachibana Makoto lived with no regrets. But he thinks he has a problem figuring out what’s important to him?
“What do you mean?”
“Well… I guess sometimes when you’re on a good path you forget why you’re on it in the first place. When I was coaching for a while, at first I was coaching my friends. Then as years went by, my closest friends went onto new coaches or competed in different areas. Then those friends got replaced by new athletes,” Makoto looks up somewhere in the corner of the diner. The neon lights in the diner lighting against his face. Makoto seems to gather his thoughts when he starts talking again slowly, “I did love doing what I was doing. But at some point I was getting yelled at by an athlete who would refuse to listen to me about his rehabilitation. And I thought, why am I here?”
Makoto inhales, carefully taking in Sousuke’s expression before continuing, “My friends weren’t there anymore and I was missing my family a lot. Professional coaching wasn’t giving me the same happiness it had before.”
Sousuke looks at Makoto, stunned. To think that the man in front of him who seemed so sure of himself all the time. Going straight into school, coaching right away, and moving back with his family all seemed like such clear choices when Makoto talked about it. But knowing that even he felt some sort of lost sometimes too was a little comforting. Sousuke must’ve paused for too long because Makoto starts to fidget with his hands.
It was automatic when Sousuke places his hand on top of his to still the movement. Makoto’s hands were warm and his skin was soft. He gives Makoto a small smile.
“And did you find it? What’s important to you?” Sousuke asks.
Makoto glances at Sousuke’s hand on his, the tiniest hint of pink on his cheeks. Probably a little surprised at the forwardness of his question and his sudden touch. Sousuke was surprised too, but for some reason calming Makoto’s nervous movements was instinctive. When he looks up again his expression melts into something more reflective.
“I’m not sure. I guess I’m still looking.”