𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 ☼ 𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚

III

     the rain cleared, and the sky smoothed out like a fresh sheet, cloudless and cotton blue. tobio and shōyō found themselves in the overgrown grass of the kageyama backyard talking quietly; tobio's new friend was drowning in a clean pair of his gym shorts and an old t-shirt, a towel around his neck damp with water from the candy-colored ringlets on his head.

     "thank you for the clothes," shōyō smiled as he waddled over to the creaky swing set in the corner of the yard. he grabbed a seat in the swing farthest to the right and shook his head a little bit, chuckling as droplets flew from the strands. "you didn't have to do all this."

     "i would've done it for anyone," tobio swatted away the boy's praise, but even he knew it wasn't entirely true.

     "you have a really nice house. your sister is sweet."

     "thanks. she takes care of me."

     "so," shōyō let his joyful grin slip, "uh, why were you at the cemetery?"

     "i was visiting my mom."

tobio couldn't help but stare into shōyō's eyes with a tinge of inquisition; they resembled the color of the chocolate river in the movie willy wonka and the chocolate factory, he thinks. he remembers because he used to watch that movie with his mom on her better days, the ones where she could stay awake long enough to enjoy the whole film. she adored that movie, and she always talked about wanting to see a chocolate river, if one even existed. tobio found that color so comforting in shōyō's eyes. it almost made him feel like his mother was there, in a way, keeping the both of them safe- watching over him, like he'd asked her to.

"i'm so sorry," shōyō cooed, swinging his sock-clad feet slowly beneath the swing, "i bet she was a great mom."

"even better than great. she was the best." tobio smiled, feeling a bit nostalgic at the thought of her. maybe she would've seen the same comfort when looking at shōyō, he wonders. "anyways... why were you there? i've been going for a while now, and i hadn't noticed you before."

"well, my little sister- i- uh," shōyō's shoulders drew close to his neck, and his knuckles grew white around the rusty chain of the swing where he gripped so tightly, "my baby sister natsu just died."

tobio padded over the dewy ground and sat on the swing beside the boy, feeling a humid warmth settle in his chest- a longing, of sorts. for what, he does not yet know. "i'm so sorry, shōyō. was she really little?"

"s-she was eight," the twin chocolate rivers flooded as he brought his heavy head up from the ground, "she had leukemia."

there was a despair in the way he let his hands fall from the chains and collect softly in his lap, sort of like he had no more strength to hold on to them. they lay there weak and trembling, just like him. shōyō hopes it wasn't too sad a sight to scare tobio away; he hadn't talked to anyone about his sister since she passed, not even his family. he hasn't said a word to anyone but her headstone.
much to his surprise, though, tobio was not scared, and he proved it by reaching out.
his nimble fingers were longer, his palm larger, but that mattered least of all- he was holding shōyō's hand, rubbing circles into the soft patch of skin between his thumb and his pointer finger, and he was smiling. it was a tiny smile, at that, but it was still a smile. shōyō liked it.

"it really sucks losing someone so close to you."

"you know, i- i used to go into natsu's room every night. i'd read her a story, or sing her one of her favorite songs... sometimes i'd sneak ice cream in even when mom said 'no more food for the night', and we'd share it and watch cartoons on the little tv that was on top of her dresser. i'd kiss her forehead when she fell asleep, and i'd go to bed in the chair next to her in case she woke up and needed something. i made sure she felt safe. that room was my room, too. but since she left me, i... i can't go in. i can't go in there. there's a dirty ice cream bowl sitting on the nightstand, probably collecting fucking flies and mom keeps telling me i have to go in and get it and clean it but i can't... i just can't."

tobio had been out of his swing for moments already, clinging onto shōyō as the tear-stricken boy mumbled incoherent apologies into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. his knees were pushing little dimples into the ground as he sat in front of the swing, keeping a tight hold around the crier's shoulders as he sobbed and sobbed, but tobio did not care, because something told him that this poor boy needed to cry, and he wanted to be the one who let him.
the sky glazed over in a yellow haze as the sun peeked out from behind a big cloud, and the heat began to permeate the yard and the little space between the two boys. shōyō picked his head up, and though he was a snotty, teary-eyed mess, tobio couldn't even find a reason to care.

"i'm so sorry, i just-"

"it's okay. it's okay to cry about it, and talk about it. if she were here, she'd want you to."

"all... all i ever did was take care of her. wh-what am i gonna do now?"

"you can learn to make yourself happy."

shōyō brushed a few tangerine corkscrews out of his red eyes and wiped at the wet spot on tobio's shoulder with a small giggle. "you know, you barely even know me, yet you're taking care of me like you do."

"that's not so bad, is it?"

"i guess not."

"here, c'mon," tobio stood up and outstretched his hand, feeling a bit warmer when shōyō took it- it was the sun, he tells himself. "let's go inside."

"tobio,"

"yeah?"

"if i keep coming back, will you keep taking care of me?"

"yeah. yeah, i will."

"okay."