LET ME DOWN SLOWLY ⸻ sakusa kiyoomi.

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 | shibuya things

— sakusa residence, 4pm !

SAKUSA LOOKED DOWN AT HIS PHONE, scrolling through the screen's rows and rows of notifications, leaving Komori's Instagram story mentions on read and blocking a few scam call numbers. His white surgical mask hung from one ear on his face, and the curly-haired ravenette took a bottle of sanitizer out to sanitise his phone, carefully going over the power on/off, volume and home buttons, throwing the tissue paper away in the trash bin at the floor of the kitchen island.

Setting his phone down on the countertop, Sakusa took his mask off, folding the outer side of the mask in and throwing said mask away. Walking out of the empty kitchen, he entered the bathroom at the side of the hallway, which was a room of modern black-and-white architecture blending with hanging plants over the mirror and small little ferns set on display cupboards.

He washed his hands, carefully scrubbing and coiling his fingers through one another, shrugging off his jacket and tossing them into the laundry basket, which was full of the clothes that he had worn from the youth camp.

He emerged from the bathroom, changed into a loose white turtleneck and a soft cream jacket over his shoulders, in wide-legged white pants. He ran a hand through his obsidian curls, walking back into the kitchen, pouring a thermos flask of boiling water and putting a green teabag into it, waiting for the tea to set in as he set it atop a tray with a small glass cup on it.

He picked his phone up as the screen lit up with another text notification, and saw that his mother had replied to his 'i'm home' text.

oka-san

I'm going to be at work till 9, dinner's  in the microwave.

Also, Ikumi and Kiyoshi are returning for winter break. Oto-san's fetching them today

you

ok

Sakusa's father would be out at this time, too, still working in his job as an econometrician. His shift would end by around 7, and the train from Shinjuku would arrive probably late at night, allowing Sakusa Haruyoshi to pick up his eldest son up from Tokyo Haneda Airport. Kiyoshi would probably be rather jet-lagged for a few days, and Ikumi would drag the two of them out to go Christmas shopping and hang around together.

Sakusa tapped on the informal Itachiyama VBC group chat, and immediately tapped out of the chat without even bothering to scroll through the contents of the 1000-plus notifications that had crammed his screen. Sakamaki Eitaro, the first-year wing spiker and the team manager, second year Ryoka Sana, had sided with each other against second year Ryoka Hiroomi, Sana'a older brother in some sort of weird-ass roasting battle. Iizuna, Tsukasa, the captain and Matsuoka Yohei, the third year pinch server, were laughing at them.

Sakusa replied to a few relevant chats, pausing to gaze at a photo of a small grey tabby cat in Kiyoshi's uni grounds. There was one last notification to go through before Sakusa planned to go upstairs to complete his homework. This one was from Tsukishima.

less-piss hair setter

are you rich or sumn?

Sakusa deadpanned.

What kind of question was that supposed to be? What was Sakusa supposed to say, that oh yes he was rich, so rich to the point that his parents were actually the secret cousins of Jeff Bezos?

Sure, the Sakusas were a well-off family, living in the rather expensive Shibuya district, in a three-storey house renovated a few years ago to have a simple chandelier hanging over the connected dining and living room, walls pristine white and floor marble tiles, transparent railing twining across the side of the room. But why would Sakusa want to share all this info to a near-stranger?