涼香＋昌＝♡ @suzuka-akira - Tumblr Blog

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pinboo

suzuka / akira x i wish you

i wish you, because i want all that i wish to come true

i hope you, even though we might be on different paths

i think back, i’m always thinking of you

i wish you, continually, because i’m right by your side

kono oto tomare || suzuka takinami x akira doujima || i wish you by capsule

pinboo’s ship x song moodboard series no. 42

#pretty!#first moodboard on this blog #moodboard #otp #akira #suzuka

mytruepairings

#pure ;A;#akira #suzuka #mangacaps

tokisehighkotoclub

Kono Oto Tomare! Illustration Gallery

#fave

strawberries and chill

(@chikawaweek Day 6: Strawberries) | ao3

Fuck?

Is all Chika thinks, when he wakes up and realises he’s suddenly in pitch darkness. It’s both a question and a statement - he doesn’t know why he’s here and what he’s doing here, and he also wants to curse because he does know he is, for lack of a better descriptor, fucked for the finals tomorrow.

…Right, his now more-awake brain realises. He’s here in the library precisely because he didn’t want to be fucked for the exam. He still has no idea what he’s doing in pitch darkness, though. Just a few minutes ago, he was attempting to memorise something important from the lecture notes, and probably fell asleep, and -

His eyes fall on the clock, which is when he realises that it wasn’t a few minutes ago, but a few hours ago.

Which means it’s now past midnight. Which means the library is now closed.

Which means…he’s stuck in the library for the night?

How it happened, he barely has any idea - did the librarian forget to do a check before closing up? Or did the librarian actually do the check, but somehow happen to be blind enough to miss all 178cm of his stature?

He decides it doesn’t matter - he figures he’s gotta get the lights on first, somehow. So he gets up, groping around in the dark of the closed library with the dim light of his phone flashlight, and -

A shriek so shrill, Chika almost shrieks in response. He turns his flashlight onto the sudden intruder, and this time, he does shriek in response, because it’s a long-haired, female ghost.

He continues shrieking, because said ghost starts beating him up, and boy is she good at martial arts…

…hold on a second. Can ghosts perform martial arts? And in the first place, can they even physically touch humans?

He grabs the entity by the wrist, be they ghost or non-ghost, and that is when the lights in the library suddenly switch on by themselves. The both of them continue screaming, because lights suddenly turning on can, in fact, be as terrifying as lights suddenly turning off. Seems like the sensor has suddenly detected their presence, or something.

Now that there’s light, she’s definitely no ghost, that much Chika can tell...at least, going by the concept that ghosts don’t possess legs. Though, college so far has been teaching him to question unquestioned assumptions, so he can’t say he’s 100% sure at this point. (Anyway, whether or not she’s a ghost, that sure is an extremely cute hoodie she’s wearing. This ghost sure has good taste.)

“Are you listening,” says not-Ghost, waving her hands furiously in front of his face. He looks up and realises her face is scowling just as furiously.

“Oh, sorry,” chokes Chika. He doesn’t mention that he’s daydreaming (nightdreaming) about strawberry snacks, thanks to her shirt. “Did you say something?”

“Yeah, I asked if you have any idea what we should do,” Ghost repeats. “Apparently there was a new librarian on shift today, and they had gone home without checking this sector of the library compounds. Thing is, they live two hours from this campus by shinkansen, and they brought the keys home with them.” Ghost (probably not-Ghost, now that Chika pieces the information together) shows him her cell phone screen. “See, they emailed all the students whose library cards were detected as having entered the library, but not yet exited. And there are only 2 email addresses, so the other unlucky person must be you.”

Ah, so that’s what happened. He checks his own emails - on top of 647 unread emails is the same notification as the one on her screen. He clicks on it and checks the other email address; [email protected] is what it says.

“So you must be Sato-san?” He tries, squinting at the email address. “Or Satoo?”

“No, silly.” She sighs, facepalming a bit. “My family name is Houzuki, given name Satowa. How long have you been in this university? Didn’t you know that they truncate names to fit emails, but you can still find out the names of those behind the email addresses by clicking on the email address, and looking at the information bar that appears?”

“Oh,” he says, trying out the function she’d just described. “I see. Well…never really been one to read emails.” He shuts his phone. “Anyway,” he looks at her, and his eyes really cannot stop staring at the cute cartoon on the hoodie. (Nor her face, which is almost as cute; just almost.) “I guess we’re stuck here till tomorrow morning.”

She doesn’t even respond verbally to that fact. She sits down on the floor, frowning even harder than she already is. She must have something really important tomorrow, maybe that’s why she was still here at this hour. (Now that he comes to think of it, he, too, has something important. Really important, in fact.)

“Why were you here till so late?” Chika asks. He sits down beside her. “Exam?”

“Yeah,” She buries her face in her knees. “Finals. Paper II of PS1007.”

That sounds familiar, thinks Chika. And then he realises.

“No way, we’re in the same course?!” Chika chirps. Right, her name is Houzuki, right, which means…

“You’re that Houzuki? The child prodigy? The one who has been estimated most likely to graduate 4 years worth of college within 2 years?” Chika looks at her, almost wide-eyed with disbelief, and perhaps his widened eyes have helped him recognise her face, because he does know this girl, after all - she’s the one who keeps answering the lecturer’s toughest trick questions, and correctly, too. (How it is possible to even correctly answer trick questions in the first place, still remains a mystery to Chika.)

Houzuki doesn’t respond to that. Rubbing her forehead, she sighs slightly before she does respond. “At this rate, I’m not sure if I can even graduate in 4 years. I have managed to study for the test, but I know from past experience that if don’t get any sleep the night before an exam, I can just about say goodbye to my grades.”

“Oh,” is Chika’s only response. He really doesn’t know what to say, nor does he know how to help. So he offers her his shoulder instead.

“Then just sleep? Here, you can even have a pillow.” He pats his shoulder unblinkingly.

At this offer, her face turns into an overripe strawberry, and cute, is what comes into Chika’s mind.

“Idiot,” is all she says, frowning even harder, and it makes her face all the cuter. Almost as cute as her shirt, in fact.

“Anyway, I’m going to watch some anime on my phone, so you can join me if you want,” He whips out his phone; 15% left, says the battery bar. Not a lot to work with. But if Chika isn’t one to live life on the line then he doesn’t know who is, so he decides that nothing’s going to come in between him and his anime, not even the impending test that he happens to have conveniently forgotten about.

A bit of silence from the girl, and it’s almost a full three minutes before she speaks up again. “I guess watching anime is better than trying and failing to sleep on the floor.”

“Good choice,” Chika hands her a earpiece, smiling slightly at how she seems to have loosened up, even if just a bit. “I like this anime. The main character reminds me of my favourite fruit.”

She pauses to think for a while, staring at the screen as she appraises and evaluates the brightly-haired main character of the anime. “Oranges?”

Chika pauses. Thinks for a bit, before he laughs. “No, but you’re quite close, I guess. Strawberries.” Pure silence, so Chika continues to explain. “It’s because of his name.”

Speaking of strawberries, he does have one more packet of Pocky left, right? He checks his jacket pocket and much to his joy, he happens to be right! Nice, he cheers inwardly; now he even has a nice snack to complement the show.

“Here, have one,” Chika offers her some. “It matches your shirt,” Chika points at the strawberry cartoon on her hoodie. “Very cute hoodie.”

“Thanks,” is her only response, but Chika can tell her mood is already way better than she’d started off with.

(1 hour and 15 minutes later, Chika’s phone runs out of battery, but it doesn’t matter, because so do the two of them, and it turns out that Satowa has eventually quietly taken up his pillow offer, after all.)

===============

The next day, the librarian unlocks the library. The first thing she sees is the two of them sleeping together on the floor, though not in the clandestine ways that university students may be often be caught in. Instead, they’re sharing a pair of earphones, with the girl holding an empty packet of strawberry Pocky in hand, and the guy holding a mobile phone, with the girl using the guy’s shoulder as a pillow and the guy using the girl’s head as a pillow.

The librarian can’t even bear to extricate them from each other.

===============

When Chika wakes up, it’s due to a hard kick in his nether regions that he does, and when he opens his eyes, he sees nothing but a very cute girl in a very cute hoodie with a very cute strawberry design, escaping the scene upon having kicked him in the nuts.

“Why,” is the strangled noise that escapes his mouth, as he grabs onto said nuts for dear life, in pure pain, pure suffering.

===============

15/100, says Chika’s exam paper. “I think I just broke my record,” Chika sighs. “Guess I’m going to have to repeat a year.”

Just then, he feels a jab in his back from behind him, and turns - it’s the same Strawberry girl from the time in the library, the one with academic ability way beyond her years; the one with the extra cute strawberry shirt, and (also extra cute) strawberry-red face.

“Sorry for kicking you the other day,” She appears to be unable to look Chika in the eye, but he can feel her sincerity nonetheless. “And thank you,” she hands him a brand new packet of strawberry Pocky. “I did fine on the exam because your snack and anime helped calm my nerves. So here you are, a full packet in return.” Another pause. “And I hope you did okay on the test, too.”

Another pause. An awkward silence. A blush growing on her face like a strawberry ripening in its field. Chika smiles as he realises that this girl is even cuter than the strawberry on her hoodie was.

“You’re welcome,” he says, feeling an indescribable urge to pat her head. “You don’t have to repay me, either.” He pauses, pondering for a bit; actually, maybe there was something he could use in return. A few things, in fact.

“Well, if you want, maybe you could repay me by telling me where you bought that hoodie you wore that time, because I think I want a matching one.” He pauses to think. “And maybe also watch more of that anime with me, and during then we can share that snack you bought, and we can also share the earpiece, like we did the previous time. That was fun, though we both fell asleep halfway through.” He grins, and the strawberry on her face ripens yet further, now bordering on overripe. (Her cuteness, Chika thinks, is going to give him diabetes at this rate.)

“Doesn’t sound like bad idea,” is all she says, quietly but sincerely.

“And,” Chika scratches his head sheepishly, waving in the air his exam paper, full of strawberry-red marks. “I guess I could use some tutoring, too.”

(Thank you for reading! ^^)

#chikawa #chitowa #chika kudou #houzuki satowa #kono oto tomare #kono oto tomare!#chikawa week #chikawa week 2022 #chikawaweek2022 #この音とまれ!

Behind closed doors

(@chikawaweek Day 4: Jealousy) | ao3

It’s not that Chika is jealous. Really.

Call it…curiosity. Call it protective instinct. Call it… (Okay, maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit of jealousy. A wee bit.)

But earlier that day, he’d happened to see Satowa and that scruffy-looking criminal psychology professor walking together after class. Satowa looked red in the face, a bit like she was crying. Said scruffy unshaven professor looked, well, scruffy and unshaven, and also a bit protective. And what the fuck, was all that was in Chika’s mind from that moment on.

And earlier that week, Hiro-senpai had been talking about this scruffy Takinami, too. Said he’s really smart, but really perverted. (Okay, weird was what she said, not perverted, but weird has a few interpretations, and perverted is one of them.)

And thus began Chika’s voyage into the 9th floor of the Social Sciences office building. He storms into the Psychology section. Storms into the Criminal Psychology subsection. Storms into the corridor along which #09-28 lies.

How dare he do something with her in a room together. Not even Chika has been in a room together with her, except for the lecture theatre, and except for the library where they’d first met (where Chika had successfully managed to persuade her to skip out on studying for the exam and secretly watch Bleach and eat snacks with her in the library, of all places).

And, try as he might, Chika can’t help but admit that he may have developed more than a slight crush on her. (Not just a wee bit.)

So he’s been devising ways to pluck up his courage to confess to her. But this scruffy unshaven criminal fucker (how ironic that he specialises in Criminal Psychology, ha), dares lay a hand on his to-be girlfriend before he can even turn this strawberry-sweet dream into reality.

Thus, gone is prudence; following closely behind is rationality, both flying up and away, escaping far into the wind. He throws caution to the wind, too, throwing the door wide open -

“What the actual fuck are you doing to my girlfriend!?” Chika just about screams, slamming the door wide open.

A pin-drop silence blooms in the room, which Chika surveys - Takinami Suzuka is seated right beside the window, with Houzuki Satowa opposite him. In between them on the worktable is a small laptop.

”What am I doing?” is Takinami’s slightly strangled-sounding response, voice squeaking a little at the end.

”Your girlfriend?” is Satowa’s equally flabbergasted-sounding response, sounding a little like some head of some yakuza clan responding to some death threat.

Pin-drop silence grows in size.

”…oops,” is all Chika manages after a while, face red as a strawberry.

(That day, Chika learns two things:

Never to recklessly open a door without thinking

Never to recklessly open his mouth without thinking.)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, now that you’ve already burst into the room, I hate to burst your bubble, but nothing like what you’ve expected has taken place,” is Takinami’s slightly awkward and very amused explanation. “And we might as well burst open the can of worms for him too, if Satowa doesn’t mind?” Takinami glances at Satowa all-respectfully, seeking approval.

“Fine with me,” she shrugs, slightly reddened at the chain of sudden events.

Chika’s face is nothing but a question mark at this point, so Takinami starts explaining.

“Your girlfriend-”

(“It’s not like that ye-”)

“-is now homeless.”

“What?” is Chika’s eloquent response.

“She has been driven out of her home.”

“WHAT?!” is Chika’s angry and eloquent response.

“Her family appears to have disowned her.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” is Chika’s very angry and very eloquent response.

“I happened to notice that she was staying in the college infirmary after hours a bit too often, and also happened to know about the Houzuki household’s affairs…long story.” Takinami coughs. “Anyway, we’re here to check out accommodation options for students near the home, because I have acquaintances working in the real estate sector offering discounted house rental price quotations.” Takinami explains.

Oh. So that’s what they were doing.

“Oh,” Chika scratches his head a bit.

“Yep. And that’s what I was doing to your girlfriend. Making her rent my friends’ affordable apartments. Sorry about that,” Takinami smirks.

“Please stop it,” Satowa buries her face in both palms.

“Thanks for helping me take care of her,” is all Chika says unblinkingly, still processing all the information, too speechless to say further, not remembering or trying or intending to deny anything in that chain of utterances, not at all.

(a huge thank you to all the moderators and contributors behind Chikawa Week!!!)

#chikawa #chitowa #chika kudou #houzuki satowa #kono oto tomare #kono oto tomare!#chikawa week #chikawa week 2022 #chikawaweek2022 #この音とまれ!

Chance

(click here to read on ao3)

The first time they communicate, it’s on paper that they do.

If you’re planning on cheating in this exam, I’d suggest you refrain from going along with your plan, because I saw what you brought into the exam hall and I think I know what you’re about to do.

- From the student who sits in front of you

That day, Kurusu doesn’t manage to submit what she’d planned to write on the exam paper.

The second time they communicate, a fire almost breaks out between them.

“Thank you so much, you damned son of a bitch.”

Kurusu sticks her leg out in front of her to stop him in his tracks, and the boy in glasses almost trips. She doesn’t care - it’s her final year, and he was the one who, of all things, just had to trip her up on her chances of graduating.

“Did you know that you just cost me my grades?” Kurusu doesn’t even try to conceal the anger in her voice.

“I don’t know about that, but I do know that you almost cost yourself your continued enrolment in the university,” is all he responds. He looks her straight in the eye without so much as a strand of sympathy, and her rage threatens to spill over into her words.

She opens her mouth and it almost does, but he beats her to speaking first.

“I can help you study, though.” He smiles, and Kurusu almost can’t tell if he’s joking. “It’ll cost you nothing.”

A fire had almost broken out between them, but the only fire remaining at this point, is the flush on Kurusu’s face.

The third time they communicate, Kurusu asks a question amidst the math questions on paper they’ve been attempting to solve together for the past hour.

“If you saw me bring in the handwritten notes into the exam hall, why didn’t you tell on me straightaway?” The curiosity spills over from Kurusu’s lips onto her words. “Why did you give me a chance?”

He smiles, and Kurusu can tell he isn’t joking.

“Because I’m a pretty good judge of character, and you don’t look like one to do things without reason.”

A brief silence; eventually, “Thank you so much,” is all Kurusu manages to utter, really meaning it this time.

The fourth time they communicate, no words are needed.

Something green and small is taped to Kurusu’s exam paper; on closer inspection, Kurusu realises it’s a four-leaf clover.

No words are needed, but Kurusu hears his well-wishes loud and clear.

Five minutes till the exam ends, and Kurusu thinks a miracle has occurred.

First of all, she’d actually finished her exam paper ahead of time. That hasn’t even happened on the days she’d cheated.

Secondly, she’d actually knew how to do the questions. Without cheating.

Thirdly, if she hadn’t been designated to sit in this seat, they’d never have met. Maybe she would have been caught cheating the previous round, and expelled immediately. She wouldn’t have found a great study partner (though he really was more a tutor to her than her study partner).

She wouldn't have found the kindest person to ever exist, and she knows she'd be a fool to let him go.

They’d never have met, and the seeds would never have sprouted in Kurusu’s heart.

Thank you so much, are Kurusu’s only thoughts, and they’re her silent words of gratitude to whatever higher being exists - to Fate, to Providence, to the Universe, to Chance, for having let her have the miracle of such a chance encounter; for giving her a chance, as he had, just one semester ago.

They'd met, by a random stroke of chance, and Kurusu almost can’t believe her luck.

Five minutes after the exam ends, a slight commotion seems to be going on behind her.

She thinks it’s just the noise of post-exam discussion, but before she can get up from her seat (eager to thank her Well-Wisher in person), the chief invigilator, an old and high-ranking professor, seems to be…

…walking up to her?

Beside the invigilator is a girl she recognises, and not in the best of ways, because all it does is bring the worst of memories to her recollection.

They’d been in high school when it occurred.

Minami was her best friend - or rather, Kurusu had thought Minami was her best friend, so she trusted her, and told her about her plans to bring her notes into the examination hall. “Maybe I wouldn’t even need to use it, and it’ll just be a good luck charm,” Kurusu had joked.

Turns out, Minami was not her best friend after all, and although Kurusu ended up not using her cheat sheet, her grades were halved thanks to Minami’s report, which is why Kurusu is in a university far from the university of her dreams, in a course far from the course of her dreams.

Of course she’d struggle in university - mathematics was never what she wanted to do. She'd even had to resort to cheating, for real, and, well, joke's on Minami, the perpetrator of her self-fulfilling prophecy. Three years in, and Kurusu is struggling to graduate.

More precisely, Kurusu was struggling to graduate, but a miracle had occurred, allowing her to meet Kurata Takezou, her benefactor-turned study partner and tutor, who’d given her a chance; who’d allowed her to give herself a chance.

And before she knew it, she was no longer struggling, and Kurusu almost can’t believe her luck.

She was thriving, and so were the flowers that had started to bloom in her heart.

And no way is she intending to give up this chance…

…but a dark shadow now looms over her and her future, in the form of a girl she recognises from high school, in the worst of ways.

Kurusu can’t believe her luck.

The chief invigilator, accompanied by a girl she wishes she doesn’t know, is walking up to her.

“This student claims she caught you bringing your notes into the exam hall, but dropped in on the ground right before it started.” He brandishes a stack of paper in front of her. Her full name, Kurusu Hiro, is written on it in black pen, and she doesn’t even recognise the handwriting.

“Those aren’t my notes-” she tries, but before she can continue, the professor stops her, not even giving her a chance.

“She said you’d cheated before in your high school final examination. This gives us reason to suspect that you’d do the same, in your university examination-”

A hand smaller and slimmer than his suddenly takes the papers from his hands, and he recoils in shock.

“What are you doing-”

“Those aren’t her notes,” Kurata repeats Kurusu’s words for her, not even giving him a chance to continue speaking. “This is not her handwriting. Also, she doesn’t use black pens. And she’d never write her full name on any paper that isn’t an exam paper.”

Kurusu doesn’t know what to say; not even she had noticed those things about herself.

“She isn’t lying,” comes a voice from behind them - it’s another invigilator, a young professor that Kurusu recognises from one of her Psychology electives. “And neither is he.”

And the chief invigilator argues no further, even if the one who had just spoken is a junior professor, because even he knows better than to go against the better judgment of Takinami Suzuka, aspiring star in the field of criminal psychology and body language, lovingly nicknamed “Prof Lie Detector” by his students.

The fifth time they communicate, it’s after the graduation ceremony that they do.

It’s spring and the cherry blossom trees have bloomed, and so have the flowers in Kurusu’s heart.

But if there is anything more fleeting than cherry blossom flowers, Kurusu doesn’t know what it is. A thin, pink piece falls from above her, landing beside her foot. She fears her chance may suffer the same fate.

There’s a lot she means to tell him - more than thank you and how can I ever repay you and can you continue to spend time with me and I don't think my life will be the same without you and I don't think I will be the same without you and I don't think I can do without you and I want to do something for you and I want to do many things for you, and -

“Will we ever meet again,” is the only thing that escapes her mouth, but her hands speak for her, because she grabs him by the wrist, lest her chance disappears like cherry blossom petals from a tree branch.

(The fifth time they communicate, Kurusu is determined to not let it be their last.)

“Of course,” He smiles, and Kurusu can tell he isn’t joking this time either. He interlaces their fingers together, and Kurusu can’t believe her luck.

“Because I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I'd be a fool to let you go.”

(The fifth time they communicate, is far from their last.)

#kot #kono oto tomare!#kono oto tomare #kono oto tomare fanfiction #kurata takezou #hiro kurusu #takezou x hiro #kurata takezo #takezo x hiro #takezo x hiro fanfiction #takezo x hiro fanfic #kot fanfic #kot fanfiction #この音とまれ!#この音とまれ #takehiro

we finally meet

Happy Birthday, Takinami Suzuka! (28.9.22) (feel free to read this on ao3 if you prefer!)

Suzuka wakes up to the smell of coffee.

Which is strange, because he’s not the one brewing it. And as far as he knows, he’s the only one who uses this office pantry.

It’s definitely not the type of coffee he’s used to smelling - this one seems to be a tad more acidic.

Maybe they have a new colleague?

(When he gets to the pantry, there’s no new colleague in sight; only an empty pot that he doesn’t recognise, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee.)

Suzuka wakes up to the smell of coffee.

He does, every day, because it is liquid fuel for his existence. Deprive him of it, and he will cease to function, in senses both literal and metaphorical.

(He fills the machine with the beans. Cranks it up. Waits.)

It isn’t like it’s his fault. Insomnia is a real problem for some. Maybe it is a problem too, for their new colleague?

He leaves some coffee in the pot, just in case the new colleague has a problem with insomnia, too, and would like some, too.

(He walks back to his office room, coffee cup in hand, thinking perhaps there hadn’t been a new colleague, after all.)

----

Suzuka wakes up to the smell of coffee.

Apparently, they probably do have a new colleague, because this time, again, Suzuka isn’t the one brewing it.

When he gets to the pantry, he realises there are two pots of coffee. One of them, the half-filled one he’d left there yesterday, is as cold as the winter air. The other half-filled one is still steaming, imparting to the pantry air a relatively unfamiliar scent.

There’s a handwritten note on the hot pot of coffee; the one that isn’t his.

Your coffee has turned cold. If you don’t mind, you could have some of this.

(Suzuka makes a mental note to leave a physical note in future.)

------

Suzuka wakes up to the smell of coffee.

He’d even set an alarm for this - he can’t put a finger to the feelings he's experiencing, but something in the deep of his gut is urging him to be the one who brews it this time. And anyway, he figures he still prefers the familiar taste that is his own coffee; the one he’s been drinking everyday for years. So, he figures, he’d better make it to the pantry early.

He does, luckily, and there are two empty pots this time. He brews his coffee, fills his cup and leaves his pot half empty.

(This time, he doesn’t forget to write his intended recipient a note.)

--------

Suzuka wakes up to the smell of coffee.

He still has no idea who’s brewing it. A new colleague? An acquaintance who has recently realised the pantry exists?

In either case, it’s not his coffee, that much he knows.

(As he sips his new coffee, he realises it’s an acquired taste.)

----------

Suzuka wakes up to the smell of coffee.

He’d woken up even earlier, this time, just to make sure he gets first dibs to the coffee-brewing. Not that it’s some kind of competition...but still. Who knows - perhaps there may really be some sort of competitive spirit in him, egging him on to feed his favourite brand of coffee to his long-distance mystery coffee partner.

He’s been using the exact same type of beans for years. A real creature of habit, he is. Maybe if he kicks the habit of coffee-drinking, he’ll kick his insomnia away, too...not happening. Coffee happens to be one of the most important comforts in his existence, and he figures that the lack of it will ironically cause him to lose sleep, out of pining. (Talk about a real chicken-and-egg problem.)

(He hangs around the pantry 5 minutes longer than usual, wondering if said long-distance coffee partner will appear. They don’t, so he disappears, too, leaving nothing but a lukewarm half-pot of coffee in his trail.)

------------

Suzuka wakes up to the smell of coffee.

It’s not the one he’s most used to, though it’s the one he’s getting used to.

He’d forgotten to set his alarm clock yesterday - today morning at 4am to be precise, but yesterday night in terms of normalised time.

What is normal? Suzuka doesn’t know. Maybe he will, someday.

What he does know, however, is that he doesn’t care whether sleeping in his office room is normal. And what he does care about, is that doing this helps save time on commuting to work, which then helps reserve time for work, which then gives him more time for sleep. (Talk about a real chicken-and-egg solution.)

Being a tenured professor has its problems, such as stacks of work, including administrative duties, teaching duties, research duties, or in his case, assisting with police investigations. But it also does have its perks, and having a solo office room to himself is his favourite of them all.

He grabs a cup, fills it, returns to his office room, and sits in the sofabed he’d brought from home, sipping the gift of coffee he has just received.

(As he does, he realises his favourite brand of coffee now has a competitor.)

--------------

Suzuka wakes up to the smell of coffee.

He’d set his alarm way very early this time, so “wakes up”, here, is almost as literal as it is metaphorical. He really wanted to get first dibs on the coffee-making, because he reckons must convert his coffee partner to his favourite brand of coffee, instead of it being the other way round.

That’s a lie, though, and he knows it. He’d really just wanted to attempt to wait around for his coffee partner, out of curiosity.

Unfortunately, his handphone dings multiple times, telling him that the emails have started to come rolling in.

(He abandons the half-pot of coffee as he walks back to his office to answer the steadily increasing workpile naggingly summoning him, telling the half-pot of coffee to accost his coffee comrade for him, telling himself that the day they meet will come.)

----------------

Suzuka wakes up to the smell of coffee.

He can recognise that it isn’t his coffee, so he rushes to the pantry, hoping to catch his newfound coffee companion in action.

Unfortunately, he arrives a tad too late, because all there is in the pantry is a half-pot of coffee, lying in wait for him. (At least, he infers is in wait for him - they’ve been keeping this exchange up for a while and they no longer leave sticky notes for each other telling the other party that they are free to drink it, treating it as assumed information instead. Better for the trees, that way.)

(He sips his coffee on the sofabed in his office, and realises that he’s acquired the taste already.)

------------------

Suzuka wakes up to the smell of coffee.

It’s his own beans this time, because he has won - well, he has won the race to the pantry, but his beans have lost, because he has found a new favourite brand in the form of the other coffee he alternates between, these days. Or maybe it’s a tie.

Doesn’t matter anyway, because what matters is that he gets to meet his fellow coffee maker. If the insomnia doesn’t kill him, this curiosity will.

So he waits, and the insomnia almost kills him, because the smell of coffee fails to wake him up fully this time, and he almost dozes off while standing up, propped against the kitchen counter in the pantry.

Before he does, he is saved by a tap on the shoulder. He jolts awake, slightly confused, almost forgetting why he’s there.

“Excuse me, sorry, but I am trying to get my pot of coffee into my mug, and you are sort of in the way.”

Suzuka looks up, and almost forgets to breathe for a moment. What he remembers, though, is why he’s there in the first place.

Pale skin. Chin-length hair. Large, round eyes. Tiny nose, tiny mouth.

These are what Suzuka sees when he looks up, but these are all nondescript characteristics, really, because what he sees cannot be described with any word, phrase, or sentence; the only possible description is that it's a taste he probably doesn't even need any time to acquire.

He finally remembers to breathe, fully awake by now.

"Coffee?" is the only thing he says, a question in ways more than one.

"Yes," is the only thing she says, an answer, also in ways more than one.