Chapter 5
“Yes, thank you. Yup. Talk next week. Take care.”
Daichi hung up the phone as quickly as he could without seeming too eager. A yawn threatened to split his face in half and he wiped the tears from his eyes. Monday morning calls to corporate were boring enough, but, coupled with his lack of sleep, he barely slogged through them.
He plucked his clipboard off the peg on the well and went through the motions of checking inventory in the back room. As it sometimes did, his mind wandered as he checked each UPC against the numbers in the grid. Sugawara Koushi was a hard writer to track down. His wikipedia page had all of two vague sentences about his career and his bibliography only had a couple viable links in the list of short stories, submissions, and novels. Nothing about his life or the current status of the two books published under his name. Daichi needed more.
He had been glued to his computer since returning from the convention the Saturday prior. Eventually, in the wee hours that night, into Sunday morning, Daichi found one of Suga’s stories. He distinctly remembered wanting to take a victory lap around his living room when he clinked the link and actual words showed up on the screen. He read the story quickly, then read it again. The story was set in post-apocalyptic America and was loosely about a virus that affected random people and made these people act out their deepest, most violent, most gruesome impulses. It was good, the comments identified a meditation of the nature of evil, but Daichi had never read anything so violent. It had kept him up the rest of the morning and even the happiest thoughts of Suga's tight pants or the colors of his eyes or the sound of his couldn't distract him from going back to the story and losing sleep that night.
It was crazy, Daichi admitted. He was as horrified by the story as he was drawn to the author, and even more mystified by the combination of the two. He continued comparing numbers in the dusty store room and the hours dragged mercilessly. Daichi just about fell over himself to take his break when the time came.
“I’m off for lunch,” he waved to Tanaka, his other employee-turned-friend, on way out of the store. They only got half an hour for lunch, so Daichi had to make every second count. He booked it and made it to the food court in record time.
He heard her just as Michimiya hopped in line next to him. “Daichi!”
“Hey, you on break too?” Daichi asked absentmindedly, fully aware that it was an obvious question.
Michimiya nodded. They moved forward and she nudged him. “I was thinking we could meet up for drinks this weekend? It’s been awhile, you know.”
Daichi rolled his eyes. “Last time we went out for drinks, you ending up making out with a girl at the bar and I had to listen to it the entire evening.”
“If I remember correctly, you ended up taking someone home, too!” Michimiya rebuffed. She tapped her chin and hummed in thought. “God, what was his name?”
“Oh, I don’t remember,” Daichi admitted.
“Didn’t you guys hook up for, like, weeks after?” Michimiya asked incredulously. Daichi stared straight ahead. She filled the silence with a dramatic sigh. “You’re such a catch, Daichi. I don’t understand how you can suck so badly at relationships.”
Her comment made him pay more attention to the conversation. “What?”
“Ugh, you know, you fuck a guy for a couple weeks or months, even, and then all of a sudden he’s nowhere to be seen and you’re completely unmoved. Like it never happened. Some of those guys were really into you!”
“I don’t know about that,” he said. “They lose interest, or I lose interest, and then we go our separate ways. Isn’t that the way it works?”
“I guess,” Michimiya agreed without conviction. “Whatever you think, you should still come out this weekend,” she pleaded with her hands clasped in front of her. “Maybe you’ll magically meet Mr. Right and you’ll fall madly in love and you two can ride off into the sunset or blow each other in a bathroom or, or, whatever! Please?”
Daichi shook his head with a smile. “Wow, really covering your bases there. Maybe another time.”
“C’mon. We’ll go to your favorite bar? I’ll buy your first drink? Hot guys?” Michimiya fluttered her eyelashes.
“I’m not interested.”
She knocked him on the forehead. “Who are you and what have you done with my friend? Huh?”
Daichi swatted her hand away. “Another time, okay? I wanted to catch up on some reading this weekend.”
“Reading?” She asked. Daichi shrugged. “Fine,” she said as she crossed her arms against her chest. “But buy me a lemonade to make it up to me?”
“Only if you’ll leave me alone this week,” Daichi bargained.
Michimiya slapped him on the shoulder. “Deal. You’re off the hook, but just for this week! Real Daichi better come back soon and be my wingman again, though.”
They moved up to the cash register and ordered their food. Daichi handed Michimiya the promised lemonade and grabbed his bag.
“Wanna walk back together?” Michimiya asked between sips.
“I have a bit of time before I have to get back, so I’m going to hang out up here. You go on ahead.”
“Suit yourself!” Michimiya waved as she walked to the escalator.
When she disappeared from view, Daichi hurried in the opposite direction.
Their conversation replayed in his head. He did feel bad about not remembering that guy’s name, but he wasn't being flippant, that was just usually how it went. They met, they flirted, they fucked, and then, somewhere along the line, someone got bored. Either Daichi stopped calling or the other guy stopped texting and that was that. He just assumed that was the way it went and never considered the possibility that someone would be worth chasing, or, conversely, that he would be worth chasing.
He reached his destination on the other side of the mall and stepped into the comic book store that Hinata frequented on his own breaks.
“Hi,” he greeted the person behind the counter, who peered at him over the book he was reading. “Are you Nishinoya? My friend, Hinata -”
At the mention of Hinata’s name, the guy behind the counter threw his magazine on the counter and jumped off his stool. “From Sports World, right? You must be Daichi, the boss!”
Daichi was impressed for a second before he realized that he was still wearing his name tag. “And you’re Nishinoya, er, Noya?”
“Noya, the one and only! What can I do for ya, big guy?”
“I,” Daichi was momentarily distracted by the intensity of Noya’s eyes and the familiarity of his greeting, “I was wondering if you had anything by a specific author? ”
“Who’re you looking for?”
“Sugawara Koushi. If you need me to spell -”
“Huh,” Noya leaned his face into into palm, elbows on the counter, and really looked at Daichi. “Been awhile since I heard that name. Lemme check...” he murmured to himself as he shifted to the computer. Without looking up, Noya spoke. “Guy’s a good writer, but he’s got a pretty sick mind. You into that shit?”
Was he? Daichi’s response surprised him. “Yeah.”
“Interesting,” Noya hummed. He moved his chair to look at files behind the desk and Daichi caught a glimpse of the photos that lined the wall. There were lots of magazine clippings, drawings, and even a few selfies. Daichi paused at one of them. He leaned over the counter and squinted. Noya noticed out of the corner of his eye and raised his eyebrows.
“Sorry if this is too forward, but do you know that guy?” Daichi pointed at the picture. “The one with the beard and long hair?”
Noya looked at the picture and clicked his tongue. “Yeah, that particularly handsome tree of a man is Azumane Asahi. Why? D’you know him?”
“I saw him this weekend, at the comic con thing downtown. He was with Suga,” Daichi coughed. “Sugawara.”
Noya’s eyes got wide with interest. “Really? You saw that guy, Asahi, my Asahi, with Sugawara Koushi? You sure?”
“Yeah, it was definitely him,” Daichi said confidently.
Noya seemed to be thinking about something as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. “That is seriously interesting. You see, Asahi is an editor, or, was, and it was fucking awesome. He worked on some really cool shit with the best of ‘em. Now he’s writing copy for some corporate asshole with the excuse that he needs to,” Noya made air quotes with his fingers, “save money, or something.”
Daichi shrugged. It didn’t seem like such a bad idea, but the venom in Noya’s words prevented him from voicing his opinion.
“And now you tell me he’s running around with one of his writer buddies…” Noya dug around in his pockets for his phone and quickly tapped something on the screen.
“So, uh, Sugawara?” Daichi said to bring Noya’s attention back.
“Right!” Noya smiled brightly. “Looks like we don’t have anything here at the moment, but I can dig around and see what I come up with. Give me your number?”
Daichi wasn’t in the habit of giving his number to strangers. And, even if he were, he worked in the same mall and it wouldn’t be a bother to check in. In spite of himself, however, he thanked Noya and handed his phone over. Another surprise. “Thanks,” he said again as he slid his phone back into his pocket and looked at the picture on the wall. The background didn’t look like the store, which made him curious. “So, how do you know Asahi?”
“Do you want the rated R or PG-13 version?” Noya waggled his eyebrows with what Daichi assumed was supposed to be sex appeal. He suddenly understood how he and Hinata got along so well.
“Is there a PG version?” Daichi asked hopefully.
“I don’t know, Daichi, is there a PG version of ‘fuck buddy that I want to keep forever and ever, until the sun swallows the earth?’”
Daichi cleared his throat and laughed internally that he thought he was too forward with his questions. “No, okay. Got it, thanks. I should be going.” His half hour was almost up and he accomplished what he had come in to do, but he didn’t move from the counter. The fact that Noya might know Suga, or at least know more about him was infinitely intriguing. A group of customers walked into the store, though, and he came to his senses. He had other lunch breaks.
“Text you in a couple days with more news! Thanks for visiting! Tell Hinata I say hi,” Noya shouted after him.
Daichi tucked his forgotten sandwich under his arm and stared at the new contact in his phone. When he got back to the store, Hinata was still gushing about the con to Tanaka and Daichi ducked into the office.
Hours later, when Daichi emerged, Hinata was still talking about the con, this time specifically about Kageyama. Tanaka had asked about the book signing again, like he hadn’t heard it twice already, and Daichi couldn’t help but wonder he did it to annoy him or if it was because telling the story made Hinata light up like a Christmas tree. He suspected it was a little bit of both. Tanaka was quite good at killing two birds with one stone, the birds being annoying the crap of Daichi and making Hinata boil over with energy.
At closing time, Daichi came out of the office after putting the cash in the safe and took a look around. The shirts that Hinata was supposed to have folded were still a mess and there was a pile of shredded paper on carpet that Tanaka was supposed to have vacuumed. Instead of doing their closing tasks, Tanaka laid on the table across from Hinata like a playboy pin-up and Hinata howled with laughter. Daichi cleared his throat and they both jumped out of their skins and into action.
Hinata hummed and flipped sleeves over while Tanaka pushed the vacuum quickly and sung at the top of his lungs. As long as Ennoshita didn’t have to open a filthy store in the morning, Daichi accepted their methods. He pulled the register sales printout from the receipt printer and took it to the back to enter it into the log, as he always did, just like any other night, or so Daichi thought. All of a sudden, he heard Hinata scream bloody murder and, on instinct, he jumped out from behind the desk and bust out of the back room like a bat out of hell, only to find Tanaka whooping like a monkey on cocaine and Hinata sprinting in circles with his hands in the air.
“What the flying FUCK is happening?” Daichi shouted, successfully halting the dancing idiots in their tracks.
Hinata held up his phone and jumped up and down. Tanaka started whooping again, this time with one of Hinata’s hastily folded shirts swinging above his head.
Daichi's eye twitched. A blood vessel was going to burst in his brain. This was how he was going to die. “You guys need to tell me what the hell is going on right now. God! You do not scream bloody murder unless one of you is being held up with a fucking machete!” Daichi took deep breaths to slow his heart rate and saw Michimiya peek out of the grate in front of the shoe store. He gave her a half-hearted thumbs up, and then looked back to the two biggest morons in the mall. “Alright, seriously, someone needs to tell me what’s going on before I actually kill someone.”
Hinata tried to speak, but couldn’t. Tears gleamed in his eyes. He mouthed silently.
Daichi had just about had it. “Are you crying? Hinata, what the... Tanaka? Help?”
Tanaka looked at Hinata, his phone clutched to his chest with white knuckles, and cleared his throat. He closed his eyes and opened them slowly. It took every single bit of Daichi’s worn-down veil of patience to not jump over there and strangle the both of them.
“It seems that Master Kageyama has bestowed a text upon our young friend,” Tanaka said with a bow.
Hinata nodded with his eyes closed and tears streamed down his cheeks.
Daichi realized his mouth was open and clicked his jaw shut. “Kageyama Tobio texted you? Like, actually?”
“YES!” Hinata managed. He jumped at Daichi and the latter caught Hinata’s phone as it was tossed to him. Daichi checked the screen.
From: Unknown Number
Can’t believe you gave your number to a stranger. Dumbass.
Daichi was happy for Hinata, really, but the anger swelling up in his chest told a different story. Maybe he was the Hulk after all. “Are you freaking kidding me? This is what all the commotion’s about?” Hinata looked down at the floor and kicked at the carpet with his sneakers. Daichi’s anger faded just enough for guilt to rear its ugly head. “How do you know it’s him?” He asked in a calmer voice.
Hinata looked up with the same excitement from before. Another fine example of how Hinata played him like a fiddle. “I just know! Dumbass is our thing!”
“Your thing," Daichi said, unimpressed. "That’s a pretty generic insult.”
“Hey, if Hinata feels it, then it’s probably him,” Tanaka added.
Daichi squinted at the two of them. “If he feels it? I’m not sure there’s any room for debate here, it’s either yes or no.”
They ignored him; Hinata stared at his phone and Tanaka leaned over his shoulder. “You gonna text him back?”
“Fuck yeah,” Hinata said quickly. His fingers flew over the screen. He tapped the send button with a flourish and jumped to high five Tanaka, who had waited for him to finish with baited breath.
“Well?” Daichi asked, tired of being ignored and now involved in the drama, whether he wanted to be or not.
“Well, what?” Hinata blinked. “I have to finish folding the shirts. We shouldn’t be staring at our phones when we’re trying to close the store.”
Tanaka snorted and rolled up the cord to the vacuum. “Yeah, Daichi, we don’t want to be here all night.”
Those devious shits. “I don’t know why I keep you two around,” he grumbled. Tanaka cackled in the background.
Thirty minutes after they were supposed to have gone home, the three of them locked up and left the mall. Tanaka gave Hinata a big bear hug and whispered something in his ear before breaking away and telling Daichi that he’d see him later in the week. Hinata and Daichi walked toward Daichi’s car, parked a little further away.
“So?”
“So what?” Hinata parroted.
“You know what.”
Hinata shrugged coyly, but said nothing.
“Did you at least make sure that it was him?” Daichi asked.
“I did. And he might be meeting me at the food court this weekend to look at some of my sketches.”
“That’s really great, Hinata,” Daichi smiled and rubbed his back, then, he gripped the back of Hinata’s shirt. “But if you ever scream like that during a non-emergency again you will be fired,” Daichi growled.
“Eek!” Hinata jumped. “You wouldn’t?”
He wouldn’t, but Hinata didn’t have to know that. “Just try me again sometime. See where it gets you.”
They got to the car and buckled up.
“If you want, I’ll ask him about Suga,” Hinata said nonchalantly.
“No.”
“Please?”
The idea made his stomach leap into his throat. What good would that do anyone? Suga would lose interest in a heartbeat and everyone would be disappointed. He just had this conversation and thinking about it depressed him. “No.”
“Aw,” Hinata whined and flopped his hands into his lap. “Why not? I saw you checking him out at the con. And Tanaka said he saw his name in the search history on the computer.”
Daichi stopped short at the red light. The cover of night hid the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. “That’s not, no. Wait, why is Tanaka looking at the search history?”
“So he can delete the porn he watches when it’s slow.” Hinata said it like it was something Daichi should know.
"Good lord." It was hard for Daichi to focus on the road. Tanaka watched porn on the work computer, that computer that was monitored by corporate. Great. And, holy hell, now he was thinking about Suga and porn and he did not need another thing to keep him up at night. And, double hell, he really did not need Hinata’s relentless energy focused on this particular topic of conversation.
“So…” Hinata continued. “Can I tell Kageyama that you’re interested in Suga? I mean, you’re attracted to him, you guys bonded a little, and you were looking him up on the computer instead of working,” he counted the reasons on his fingers.
“No.”
“What if I send a 100% Daichi approved message?”
“No.”
“Maybe we can go on a double date this weekend?”
“No! Hinata, just,” Daichi glanced over to catch his eye. “Stop, please,” he begged.
To Hinata’s credit and Daichi’s surprise, he did. Well, he didn’t really stop so much as start swooning over Kageyama again.
“I cannot BELIEVE I have a date with Kageyama Tobio this weekend.”
“Does he know it’s a date?”
Hinata waggled his eyebrows just like Noya did. They really were two peas in one absurdly hormonal pod. “Not yet!”
He talked about Kageyama the entire way back to his apartment complex. Daichi let him out, relieved to not have carry him this time, and drove home in silence. He appreciated the quiet. It didn’t needle him about stupid, impossible ideas and hot writers with incredible laughs and tight jeans and soft hair and complexly beautiful hazel eyes.
It was late by the time he got back, but he slid in front of his laptop one last time before getting ready for bed, just in case he missed something that weekend, or something new popped up in Google alerts. Sugawara Koushi. Nothing new. Daichi crossed his fingers that Noya would be able to come up with something, and soon.