Going Home - Nobuta - G
title: Going Home
word count: 768
wishlist fic for kitsune714
It wasn't coincidence, when Shuuji finally moved back to Tokyo, that he got an apartment in the same building as Nobuta and Akira. It cost more than the company dorms, of course, and the commute was longer. Akira was on the floor below him; Nobuta was two floors up. Shuuji liked it much better.
Shuuji had gone to college near his family because one year wasn't enough time for them to learn to live without him. Akira had gone back to Tokyo for college. Nobuta, of course, had never left. Shuuji waffled over thinking they were waiting for him, and thinking that they'd grown up and moved on without him because he took too long. They'd grown up, certainly, but so had he; they were also still waiting for him, and that was good enough for Shuuji to make the rent worth it.
It was cold for mid-March, and his breath puffed white in the air in front of him as he waited outside for the movers to come. Most of that first day was spent resorting boxes delivered by the moving company into the appropriate parts of his new apartment. Nobuta came to help after she got off work. When Shuuji let her in, she handed him three bento boxes from the convenience store in the station. Then she started carefully perusing the labels on the boxes, and then later, carefully sorting through kitchen implements and socks. When Akira knocked two hours later, finally off work himself, they ate the dinners Nobuta brought, standing up in the kitchen, before Akira chipped in to help.
Akira helped Nobuta with one of the kitchen boxes, and then they called it a night, three pairs of feet clattering noisily down one flight of stairs (one set of arms still flapping careless of opinions) to Akira's place, where they could sip tea huddled under the kotatsu. It was cold, and Shuuji hadn't set his up yet. Nobuta claimed Akira's place was better for tea.
Nobuta excused herself early (late), because she had to work in the morning. Shuuji stayed the night because he hadn't cleared enough space for the bed yet, and he said, because Akira still owed him from before.
Tofu-man was letting the upstairs flat to a middle-aged lady, widowed a decade ago. Nobuta, Akira, and Shuuji had gone to visit the second night after Shuuji got back into town. Akira spent the night asking "Love? Love? Love? Love? Love?" over and over until Shuuji slapped a hand over his mouth and apologized for him. Akira sulked for half an hour afterward, but he shut up; it was disconcertingly like high school, the world tilting in strange ways because for a split second all the edges met up like they used to, even though everything else had been rearranged.
They said goodbye around 11, because they couldn't bike home anymore and couldn't afford to stay later than that. Akira asked 'Love?' one last time, toward the closed door and the lights burning behind it, and Nobuta answered 'yes.'
Shuuji looked at her. "But how do you know?"
Nobuta hid her smile. "She's borrowing his rice-cooker."
Akira clapped delightedly, and it was like another one of those perfect puzzle pieces.
It took four days for Shuuji to unpack, bouncing between Nobuta and Akira's apartments at night like the clatter of feet up and down concrete stairs bounced off the stairwell walls, full and noisy and alive. The night he finished, Akira and Nobuta both showed up, Nobuta still quiet, hanging back, with a slow smile just for the three of them; Akira still a ceaseless flurry of sound and motion, even after a long day at work. Shuuji made dinner for everyone, and even though his bed was finally set up in the bedroom, they pulled out futon on the living room floor and all slept there instead.
Moving wasn't like coming home. It was the same city with the same general feel, but the specifics had changed. He lived in a different neighborhood, did different things. With the three of them too, the dynamics were the same, but the specifics had changed. Akira didn't make little fox faces with his hands anymore, but Nobuta did. It was how she said hi to children she passed on the street. Her smiles were easy and natural now, but she still practiced on dogs when she thought no one was looking. Shuuji very carefully set up a three-legged pig and a little wooden doll up next to each other on his dresser. Moving was like making home. Shuuji thought that was better.
word count: 768
wishlist fic for kitsune714
It wasn't coincidence, when Shuuji finally moved back to Tokyo, that he got an apartment in the same building as Nobuta and Akira. It cost more than the company dorms, of course, and the commute was longer. Akira was on the floor below him; Nobuta was two floors up. Shuuji liked it much better.
Shuuji had gone to college near his family because one year wasn't enough time for them to learn to live without him. Akira had gone back to Tokyo for college. Nobuta, of course, had never left. Shuuji waffled over thinking they were waiting for him, and thinking that they'd grown up and moved on without him because he took too long. They'd grown up, certainly, but so had he; they were also still waiting for him, and that was good enough for Shuuji to make the rent worth it.
It was cold for mid-March, and his breath puffed white in the air in front of him as he waited outside for the movers to come. Most of that first day was spent resorting boxes delivered by the moving company into the appropriate parts of his new apartment. Nobuta came to help after she got off work. When Shuuji let her in, she handed him three bento boxes from the convenience store in the station. Then she started carefully perusing the labels on the boxes, and then later, carefully sorting through kitchen implements and socks. When Akira knocked two hours later, finally off work himself, they ate the dinners Nobuta brought, standing up in the kitchen, before Akira chipped in to help.
Akira helped Nobuta with one of the kitchen boxes, and then they called it a night, three pairs of feet clattering noisily down one flight of stairs (one set of arms still flapping careless of opinions) to Akira's place, where they could sip tea huddled under the kotatsu. It was cold, and Shuuji hadn't set his up yet. Nobuta claimed Akira's place was better for tea.
Nobuta excused herself early (late), because she had to work in the morning. Shuuji stayed the night because he hadn't cleared enough space for the bed yet, and he said, because Akira still owed him from before.
Tofu-man was letting the upstairs flat to a middle-aged lady, widowed a decade ago. Nobuta, Akira, and Shuuji had gone to visit the second night after Shuuji got back into town. Akira spent the night asking "Love? Love? Love? Love? Love?" over and over until Shuuji slapped a hand over his mouth and apologized for him. Akira sulked for half an hour afterward, but he shut up; it was disconcertingly like high school, the world tilting in strange ways because for a split second all the edges met up like they used to, even though everything else had been rearranged.
They said goodbye around 11, because they couldn't bike home anymore and couldn't afford to stay later than that. Akira asked 'Love?' one last time, toward the closed door and the lights burning behind it, and Nobuta answered 'yes.'
Shuuji looked at her. "But how do you know?"
Nobuta hid her smile. "She's borrowing his rice-cooker."
Akira clapped delightedly, and it was like another one of those perfect puzzle pieces.
It took four days for Shuuji to unpack, bouncing between Nobuta and Akira's apartments at night like the clatter of feet up and down concrete stairs bounced off the stairwell walls, full and noisy and alive. The night he finished, Akira and Nobuta both showed up, Nobuta still quiet, hanging back, with a slow smile just for the three of them; Akira still a ceaseless flurry of sound and motion, even after a long day at work. Shuuji made dinner for everyone, and even though his bed was finally set up in the bedroom, they pulled out futon on the living room floor and all slept there instead.
Moving wasn't like coming home. It was the same city with the same general feel, but the specifics had changed. He lived in a different neighborhood, did different things. With the three of them too, the dynamics were the same, but the specifics had changed. Akira didn't make little fox faces with his hands anymore, but Nobuta did. It was how she said hi to children she passed on the street. Her smiles were easy and natural now, but she still practiced on dogs when she thought no one was looking. Shuuji very carefully set up a three-legged pig and a little wooden doll up next to each other on his dresser. Moving was like making home. Shuuji thought that was better.