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Kageyama Tobio had a routine.
It was a routine that wasn't really a routine. Just small things he'd do, at least once a year, at most once every few months. It had become a habit, and he called it a routine purely out of convenience.
Kageyama Tobio had a routine.
It would begin every year on a cold winter's morning, the dim midday sun barely managing to poke its rays through the small gaps in the curtains. It would begin with the shrill beeping of his alarm that occurred every day, screeching its ear-splitting voice that Kageyama loathed so much. Except on days like these, in which he would long since be woken up by the still peaceful moments of silent ticking and cold, empty bedsheets. It's on days like these where he catches himself almost missing the loud background noise.
(God would you just turn that thing off?)
It would begin with reminiscing about the past.
Kageyama would devote the first few hours of his consciousness on his oh-so-sweet days off, to remembering what had already come and gone. He would furrow his brows at the irritating parts and smirk at the stupid parts. Sometimes he would even allow himself to indulge in the luxury of a small smile if there were parts that were really worth living for.
(Like ones that had to do with volleyball and a certain volleyball dumbass.)
It would begin with sitting in the living room on one of the two couches and warming his fingers with the heat of the coffee, seeping through the white porcelain mug. Kageyama had always enjoyed coffee over other hot beverages. He preferred the strong, bittersweet aroma of coffee beans and milk rather than the artificial smells of liquefied chocolate or dried leaves. Coffee with milk was good. Not too sweet, for he never really had much of a sweet tooth, and not too bitter, for who had ever liked bitter things?
(How do you even drink that thing? Why don't you just drink hot chocolate, I bet you've never even tried it before!)
It would continue with the careful choice of what to wear for the rest of the day. You could argue over why it was necessary to agonize over something as small as this and why someone like Kageyama would even bother. But then again, special days called for special attire. Kageyama would always choose from the small selection of his best clothes, which of most were dark blue or grey suits. He would always wish that he could wear something a little more colourful than the same old dull tones. Unfortunately, something like an orange suit would probably not come off as very formal at all. In fact, Kageyama would be more worried about the fact that he might be mistaken for some freak from the circus. In the end, Kageyama would always go for the dark blue suit.
(Can’t you choose something brighter for once?)
It would then continue with the hastily pulled on overcoat that Kageyama had treasured and kept in a pristine condition for years. He would grab his wallet and keys from the dining room table, skip breakfast and leave out his apartment door into the chill of the outdoors.
It would be at this point in which the rest of his routine would become a little hazy.
*
“Welcome!”
The soft ring of the bell above the door tinkled and almost seemed to create a short but sweet melody. Kageyama basked in the warmth of the small shop and enjoyed the free heating he was getting. He was thankful for the fact that flowers needed to be kept in controlled environments in order to remain healthy.
“Excuse me,” Kageyama said. “I’m here for some flowers.”
The old lady tending to the plants laughed. “You’re always here every year on this day with the exact same order. What? Is it you and your wife’s anniversary?”
Over the years, Kageyama’s routine had allowed for him to frequent the small flower shop, and as he dropped by more and more, he and the flower shop owner had become quite good friends. They would often have small conversations over the little things in life, their regrets, their wishes, just about anything really. Though Kageyama never recalled ever really telling her about why he visited so often.
“No… not really.”
“Then your girlfriend?”
Kageyama let a small chuckle escape his lips over the prospect.
“Well I suppose it’s something like that.”
“Ah youth.”
The old lady excused herself to go and arrange Kageyama’s order.
Kageyama seated himself on a soft, well-worn sofa in the corner of the shop and helped himself to one of the goodness knows how old newspapers from the nearby stand. Despite being at least a couple of years old and some being up to ten (was the shop owner some newspaper collector?) the wide array of magazines and newspapers were switched in and out regularly, and Kageyama had yet to read a single one twice.
He lazily flipped through the pages, scanning his eyes over the various articles and advertisements scattered over the paper. None of the news particularly interested him, he already knew about most of them after-all, considering they were at least a few years old.
Kageyama yawned and glanced down at his pale orange wristwatch. It had already been over 20 minutes since the shop lady had disappeared behind the counter. She was taking an awfully long time compared to the usual 10 or so minutes. Not that it really mattered, he wasn't rushed for time.
The newspaper in his hands was tossed to a side and a different one replaced it momentarily. The front page's title immediately caught Kageyama's eye (considering the size of the font it would be a little hard to miss).
"Major road accident in Miyagi prefecture kills"
The untasteful header was faced with knit eyebrows, a slam against the wall and a very panicked Kageyama.
His throat constricted as he felt his breath quicken to uneven gasps. An aching throb pulsed in an area hidden under his bangs, uncovering unwanted and almost forgotten memories, lodged in a secluded corner at the very back of his mind. Kageyama pushed back thick clumps of hair, held together by the sickening sensation of cold sweat and gingerly pressed at a dark scar running across his forehead. He winced as images flashed across his eyes. Scenes that were all too dull, monochromatic aside from red, red, red.
(And something rapidly losing warmth lying limp in his arms, shape presenting an uncanny resemblance to... Kageyama willed himself to stop seeing. Stop looking. Stop remembering.)
A familiar voice snapped Kageyama out of his trance.
"Are you okay?" The shop lady fretted. "I heard something loud and came out to look, but..."
It was only then that Kageyama realised that at some point, his weakened legs had given way and that he had landed in a crumpled heap on the floor.
Hearing the concern in her voice made Kageyama wanted to lower his head in shame. But what got to him more was the fact that even after so long, those distorted memories still took over him every time they resurfaced.
Kageyama mentally cursed himself. He couldn't afford to act like this anymore. Not when he was already a fully grown man nearing his thirties and had other worries to fuss over.
"Kageyama-kun?"
"Ah... I'm fine. Uh… just accidentally kicked the chair leg." Kageyama laughed sheepishly.
"Are you sure? Your complexion doesn't look very good. Your skin is pale enough already!"
Kageyama reassured that he was fine and in an attempt to change the subject, asked about his flowers. It seemed to do the trick as the shop lady's face lit up immediately.
"Well seeing as you're a regular at the store… I decided to do a little extra today!"
The shop lady disappeared behind the counter and before Kageyama could even open his mouth to ask about what she meant, she reappeared with something laid out carefully in her arms.
Wrapped in crisp, pale orange cellophane, was the most fantastic bouquet of sunflowers Kageyama had ever had the luck to view. Each flower was arranged in such a way that the various shades of yellow petals were each able to gain the full attention of the sun and rain. Amongst the sunflowers which dominated most of the bouquet, were a few soft pink cyclamen, their faded pink and white petals blending into the background.
It most certainly had the feeling of 'extra'.
"I really outdid myself today!" the shop lady beamed, proudly puffing out her chest.
Kageyama chuckled quietly. "I think you're getting a bit old to act like that."
The shop lady laughed heartily in a way that would make anyone think that she wasn't as old as she was. After calming down, her expression became rather solemn.
"Hey, I know that you always love to order those sunflowers of yours and that's all well and good, but this time you decided to add some cyclamen to the mix. Isn't that a little odd to be giving it to your girlfriend?"
Kageyama jolted. "I… I suppose it is…"
"You do know what meaning they carry right?"
"Yes… I do."
The shop lady heaved a sigh, as if the earlier boisterous atmosphere had never been there to begin with.
"Make sure you don't screw up ok? Now hurry up and go get your girlfriend."
"E-eh? But what about the money?" Kageyama protested.
The shop lady shoved Kageyama out the door before yelling "It's on the house!" leaving Kageyama alone and bewildered on the street, with the bouquet in his arms and the sweet tinkle of the doorbell ringing in his ears.
*
Kageyama glanced out the window, watching the trees and grass roll by in an endless sea of red and orange. The falling leaves dancing along with the train, sticking closely for short periods of time before slowly drifting away to find new partners. The withering trees and yellowing grass kneeled before the gentle touch of the wind as it swept across the fields.
Kageyama shivered and blew into his hands, pulling his muffler higher up his face. His seat was cold and hard and the train was empty aside from the odd one or two people snoozing with their arms folded seated further down the carriage, their steady breaths forming small white clouds in the air.
Winter was almost here.
Kageyama felt something warm and soft lean into his arm and heard the mumbling sleep talk of “pork buns…” and “… can’t wait……”
Kageyama turned his attention back toward the passing scenery. He quietly hummed under his breath and felt the corner of his mouth tug up a little.
Winter was almost here, but as long as they were together, they were invincible.
……………
Kageyama opened his eyes and glanced out the window and saw nothing but white. He shivered and blew into his hands, pulling his muffler higher up his face.
Winter had arrived and the space next to him was empty.
*
Kageyama kneeled down and gingerly placed the bouquet in front of the small block of stone before bringing his hands together in a silent prayer. The snow lined his coat, seeping through the material and making him shudder in the cold. He slowly straightened himself and took a few steps back, leaving dents where he had been.
From where he stood, the bouquet looked oddly out of place, even though there were many other stones with similar arrangements lined up neatly in rows and columns alongside the one Kageyama was facing. The bright yellow of the sunflowers seemed to be immediately covered up by the snow, leaving only tinges of pink where the cyclamen lay.
"Happy 10th anniversary," Kageyama whispered, his voice carried off in the wind. But what did it matter? His words weren’t meant for anyone but him after all.
"We never really got to celebrate any anniversaries did we?" Kageyama continued. "After all, you disappeared on our first one."
Kageyama's shoulders slumped as he lowered his head. He was, like the many other times he visited, glad that there was no one else but him around. He didn’t think he would be able to live it down if anyone he knew was to find him in this state, lips quivering and looking as though he was about to break.
"I've decided that... this will be the last one.” Kageyama pushed onward. “It’s time to move on, continue with my own life. I can no longer afford to keep myself stuck in the past..."
He hesitated, rethinking his choices.
Was this right? Or perhaps it was the wrong thing to do? Maybe he should just leave and swallow back those words that were just lying on the tip of his tongue.
Kageyama shook his head, as if he had been through this process many times, and time and time again come out with the same conclusion.
He took a deep breath.
“Its… time I forget about you.”
The wind only seemed to get stronger and the snow thicker, as if in a futile attempt to stop Kageyama, tell him that there was still time, and maybe he could still turn back before he made his decision.
But alas, like all futile attempts did, they bore no fruit and the words flowed out of his mouth, wobbling and shaking with each syllable, but determined all the same.
"Goodbye Hinata, I loved you."
*
"Hey... Kageyama... You won't forget me right?"
"Idiot, of course I won't."
"Really? Even after I die?"
"You won’t die and I won’t forget about you ok? I said I’d make you invincible right? Dumbass."
“Haha, yeah I know. Thanks.”
*
..................
"Liar."