02. maybe it’s the hysteria
(only for you)
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You know, mornings were Koki’s thing.
It’s the time of the day when he’s boneless, and soft, and just—safe, in a way. Mornings were cold air on your skin and warm blankets and the whirring blair of the fan in the middle of a dead silent room. It’s having a mug of coffee by your hands until it burns through your palm while you hear the water pitter-patter to the ground from the shower leak because that’s how old your house feels. Sometimes it’s how old he feels in the mornings.
No, he doesn’t really watch the sunrise. There’s nothing to watch it from. They’re a neighbourhood, and there’s just houses after houses. There is absolutely nothing to watch the sunrise from. Though he tried it once. Up in his room, too young to have his hair dyed, waiting there by the window before it was even dawn. It was useless. His room just went from dim to dimly lit with those little orange lights peeking from the blinds he didn’t open. He was there, by his window, ten, wondering where the sun was.
Watch it from the roof! Maybe you’ll say. Koki isn’t a psychopath. People fall from fucking roofs. He was ten. He liked living too much.
He was now eighteen. What difference does it make? People still fall from goddamn roofs. He still liked living. Hospital bills are also a pain in the ass, and that’s another thing about Koki: they’re not rich. Covering bills for a fall from a roof wasn’t ideal when you’re already struggling enough to budget for the month.
They’re in Tokyo, you see, so it’s a little hard to fit the mold. But it’s not something he exclusively says. It’s not like his friends were rich. They were comfortable, he supposes. He was, too. Comfortable. Not rich, not poor. Just something in the middle.
Koki says that, but you know, Lev was the well-off cousin. Kuroo has a pretty nice house. Big, even. The one you hang in. Kenma’s a little more obvious. He had what he wanted when he asked. Oh, a new PSP? Go get it. This just released game? Oh, why didn’t you say so?
And then there’s Koki who needs to work a part-time job and enter dance competitions just to get his own type of teenage fun. He tries not to hold it over their heads, because it’s not their fault. But it just tastes a little... bitter. Not something he can help, so he doesn’t think of it much.
He appreciates them, still. Of course he does. It’s just a little bit of green jealousy of how they were brought up. Lev, especially. He’s family, but they’re so different.
And it gets a lot harder to not notice when sometimes Lev gives him a can of Dr. Pepper most breaks because he apparently bought too much. Sometimes he gives him the occasional sandwich because, ha, guess, he bought too much. Thing is, Lev’s a bad fucking liar. He’s lying if he scratches his cheek. He’s lying if he picks at his nails. He’s lying if he’s talking too fast and avoiding your eyes. (It’ll get him in trouble one day.)
And they’re not even in the same year, but he still goes out of his way. He’s—the sweetest thing sometimes. Clumsy around the edges, but he’s one of the best people to have around.
The others do it too, maybe purposely, maybe unconsciously. Kuroo loses bets way too often for it to be a coincidence. Next thing Koki knows he’s a thousand yen or so richer. Kenma shares his games with him, then just never asks for them back.
So—see. They’re good friends. They give him what they can while not forcing the fact upon Koki. It’s just mostly his fault, the way he thinks. He should change it, he knows. It’s not a way to be grateful.
