fox on the run | miya osamu

osamu's ideal

tsutsui residence
monday, 7:30AM

"Good morning, Sumi-chan," Suiren greets as she hears the sound of footsteps.

"Good morning, Nee-san," Sumi lazily says, still half-asleep.

"What time is it?" the younger asks, her vision still quite blurry.

"It's 7:30. Mom made breakfast so just heat it on the microwave. I need to get going," Suiren answers, closing the lunchbox on the table.

"Wait, did you make bento?" Sumi asks, narrowing her eyes to see it better, but Suiren swifltly snatches it away.

"No, I did not," she denies, now grabbing the keys from the other table.

"Hey, no fair, I want one too," Sumi requests, staring at her sister who's already putting on her shoes.

"See you later, Sumi-chan."

8:00AM

Despite the ruckus and excitement two days ago, Monday is the same as usual, boring but peaceful. She passes through the gate and heads straight to her favorite place in the world, the field.

She puts on her running shoes, eager to start her day with her ever familiar routine. Just fifteen minutes later, she's almost done with warm ups too.

"Good morning, Tsutsui-san," the club president, Maita Chiasa, greets.

"Good morning, Maita-san."

"You're here first as usual," she says while changing her shoes on the bench.

"Yes. I'm always here by 8," Suiren confirms, "The qualifiers are in two weeks, captain."

"Yes, yes, I know. But it wouldn't hurt to rest, you know? You're already one of the fastest here."

Suiren disresgards her advice in silence and she begins her laps. "Running first, then the obstacles, then timer," she mumbles her regimen as she dashed around the field.

The feel of the wind caressing her flesh, the feel of every step, the feel of her short hair freely swaying-- she savors it all.

"Oh, Chiasa-senpai, good morning." Mayako, one of the second-years, arrive. Moments later, the other members show up.

"Good morning!" they greeted.

"Tsutsui-senpai's already doing the obstacles, huh?"

"I'm not even surprised by now," Chiasa sighs, shaking her head, "And I'm just doing my warm ups."

As part of her routine, after morning practice and a refreshing shower, Suiren goes to the main school building to attend her classes. Apart from the fact that she barely speaks with her club members, none of them were in the same class, resulting to her often being alone.

"Hey, it's Suiren-senpai." "I heard she's dating Miya-senpai?" "Which Miya? Don't tell me it's Atsumu-san." "No way!" Before she reaches her classroom, she first has to deal with the gossips and murmurs all around.

Strangely though, the fact that all of them are just rumors about her love life gives her a sense of relief. No more creeps. Even if it's just temporary.

"Hello, Tsutsui-san." The echoes of gossip in her head get interrupted by a masculine voice calling out to her. She quickly pauses on the staicases to turn around. A subtle smile instantly forms on her lips as she recognizes the owner of the voice.

"Miya-san," she gladly greets, though still sounding monotonous, "Good morning."

"Good morning," he says. His brother, Atsumu, is just beside him but she's unsure what to do. Until he does the greeting first.

"Oh. Mornin'," Atsumu says casually, looking back and forth between the two.

"Good morning," she greets back and lowers her head before resuming her walk to her classroom.

"That's Tsutsui Suiren of track and field, right, 'Samu?" Atsumu asks, raising a brow as they head to class as well.

"Yeah, and what about it?" he asks in return.

"Since when have you been friends with her?"

"Why? You jealous?" Osamu teases with a smirk.

"I'm not into older women," he denies, furrowing his brows in annoyance.

"She's not even that old, can't you count?"

"She's a year older, Samu. I thought you liked your first-year fans. Your type changed?"

"You're just jealous I'm with Tsutsui," Osamu snaps and slightly raises his voice, and it's just loud enough for others to hear.

"Achoo!"  Miko offers her Suiren a tissue, seeing how much she's been sneezing ever since her arrival.

"You think someone's talking about you?" Miko jokes, offering her another one.

"I'm sorry for taking all your tissues. I must have dropped my handkerchief somewhere," Suiren apologizes.

"Nah, it's fine," she reassures.

"But I'm a little mad at you, Suiren," she adds, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to appear angry.

"What did I do, Miko-san?" she inquires, before another sneeze.

"You didn't tell me you're dating a Miya," she cries out, wiping out imaginary tears from her cheeks.

"A Miya? Ah," she mumbles, glad that he's keeping their deal.

"I mean, you even said Miya Osamu isn't your crush, but dating? Really? You sly fox," Miko scolds, shaking her head dramatically.

"Oh, wait, or is it the other way around? He's crushing on you? Then, then you agreed to date!" she keeps on guessing. She's even having fun with it.

"Wow, you're like the main lead in a shoujo manga," she continues.

"If my life was a manga, I hope the author makes it a sports manga," Suiren says, "And I'm a character with some significance at the very least."

"Suiren, you sure sound elegant for someone imagining themselves in a manga," Miko teases, laughing.

"And you're thinking of track and field again! Is that what you wanna do after high school?" she asks, seriously this time.

"Ah, no. Not at all," Suiren answers immediately, like she already has an answer prepared.

"Then what do you wanna do?"

The bell rings before Suiren could give her an answer, signifying the start of another tiresome school week. Despite Miko going back to her proper seat, the question lingers in her head. "What exactly do I want to do?" she asks herself, distracted from the lecture.

Time passes quickly without notice and before giving herself a concrete answer, she loses her train of thoughts with the surprising sound of the bell. The teacher gives a quick reminder of the homework due soon before dismissing the class, and she absent-mindedly jots it down.

"Oh, it's lunch time. Right," she snaps back from her daydream, subtly shaking her head too. She zips open her bag and she pulls out an orange lunch box. She's reminded of the thirty minutes it took her for the three onigiri but it leaves a faint smile on her lips.

"Thank you, Miya-san," she reads the note she wrote this morning, making sure it's still in place. Right after, she exits the room and heads to the second floor, eager to fulfill the promise they made.