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Ever since Osamu was a child, his parents warned him to beware of the mischievous kitsune at night. The elaborate myths his parents would tell at bedtime kept him and his brother out of trouble as kids, their young minds fearful of the fantastical consequences of misbehaving. As they got older, they realized their parents’ stories were a mere ploy to prevent them from sneaking out late at night. From then on, kitsune became nothing but tall tales. No longer morally constrained by the mythical fox spirits, Osamu and Atsumu did as normal teenagers do and defied their parents, sneaking out at night to see friends and returning home just before the sun rose. They did this for quite a sum of years and nothing bad happened. Yet.
Flash forward to adulthood. Osamu was content with his life. He lived in a decently-sized apartment, maintained good health, and owned his own successful business. Customers often gave him praise for his achievements, which he always humbly deflected and blamed on luck. Life was good, but it could have been better. Unlike most folks his age, he managed to build a comfortable, independent life for himself after he graduated from high school five years ago. Despite that, most days he found himself yearning to go back in time and relive the carefree innocence of his teenage years. He considers his time in high school to be the best years of his life, and it was all because of one person.
Suna Rintarou had moved to their small city in Hyogo from Tokyo their first year in high school. He was the rock thrown into the pond that broke the monotony of their town, and Osamu dove in headfirst to get near him. When Suna had appeared at their volleyball practices, Osamu felt as though his many years of prayer had paid off and the heavens were blessing him in return. As he introduced himself to the team, his voice came out low, tired, and with an enthralling accent that Osamu previously only got to hear on their school trips to Tokyo. Like two drops of water on a windshield, they became drawn to each other, their lives colliding into one inseparable mixture, and together, they hopelessly fell. Suna described Osamu as his closest friend, and he felt the same. In the stairwell of their school, they would escape the prying eyes of their peers and shed their languid and reserved exteriors to enjoy innocent touches and intimate emotional outpourings. On multiple occasions, they had kissed. Their kisses never extended past a few seconds of bliss that felt like the warm comfort of a fireplace and always tasted like the fruity chapstick Suna wore.
Nevertheless, they were just friends. Friends who always sat together on the train to games, connected by the wires of Suna’s earbuds, and rested their heads against one another to nap. Friends who always walked side-by-side to bump shoulders and crack jokes that only they could hear. For the entirety of the three years they spent together, their relationship was embellished with an unspoken intimacy that Osamu feared to bring up. Atsumu, probably tired of Osamu’s lovesick longing, pushed him to confess at their graduation, and he did. Following their graduation ceremony, Osamu had shakily cut his second button from his coat and presented it to his beloved without a word. Suna’s face had looked solemn.
“Oh…” Suna reached out and picked up the button from Osamu’s hand. He continuously turned it between his long fingers. “I can’t say I was expecting this…”
Osamu couldn’t get any words to leave his mouth. His hesitation spoke loud and clear, and he stood passively awaiting the pain of rejection. Suna reached for his wrist and lifted his hand back up. He gently placed the button back into his upturned palm and closed his fingers over it.
“We had fun together. I love you, Osamu, but...I’m moving back East. I really want to, it’s just-”
“I understand.”
Osamu barely remembered what came after that. All he could recall was turning to leave and running towards the sports clubhouse to hide in the supplies room and cry in the embrace of the warm, stale air. He had been too embarrassed to maintain close contact with Suna after graduation. They texted from time to time and saw each other during their semi-annual team reunion video calls, but other than that, Osamu kept a safe distance. He observed Suna’s life with the assistance of the internet and cowardly pined from the other side of a screen. Suna had visited a few months after the grand opening of Onigiri Miya’s permanent location and hasn’t been back since. His picture hung alongside the calligraphy pieces that decorated his restaurant’s wooden walls next to the kanji for ‘heart.’ In the photo, two onigiri were proudly being displayed in both of Suna’s hands as Osamu wrapped an arm around him from behind. Both wore blinding smiles in spite of the distance growing between them.
A few days ago, Suna had texted Osamu. He planned to visit sometime soon and eat at the famous Onigiri Miya again, but he wasn’t sure of the exact timing of the trip. Osamu told him he didn’t need an exact date and that Suna was welcome to stay over at any time. They agreed to let the visit be a surprise, so everyday Osamu stared with bated breath at the restaurant entrance, waiting for him to walk through. Everyday, he would be disappointed at closing time, only to be reawakened with vigor and excitement the next day.
One particularly slow day, Osamu sat staring out the window at the warm colors of the sky. Pairs of birds sang and danced among the swirling, smooth ribbons of orange and pink as the sun lowered itself into the horizon. The peaceful atmosphere began pulling Osamu into a meditative state and distracted him from noticing the ring of a bell signifying a customer had arrived. Upon hearing footsteps across the hollow wood floor, Osamu perked up and slipped back into his customer service persona. As soon as he turned his head, he recognized the figure’s familiar fluffy black hair and dark lashes that lined his eyes like makeup. He immediately stood up.
“Rin…” Suna offered nothing more than a smile and small greeting in return before taking a seat across from Osamu. “You finally came back.”
“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” He continued to smile up at Osamu.
“Yea...Um, is there anythin’ in particular ya wanted to eat? It’s been a slow day so most of the stuff is already cold but I can whip up a fresh one in no time.” Osamu’s movements became more frantic and nervous as his heart picked up in pace.
“Whatever you want to make is fine.”
He put together a variety of four different onigiri on a plate and placed it in front of Suna. The soft tap of the plate on the counter broke the awkward silence that had settled between them. Not knowing what to say, Osamu started to wash up in preparation for closing as his friend happily munched across from him. Outside, darkness encroached the bright colors of the sky. He usually closed at eight, but he figured Suna’s visit was a momentous enough occasion to warrant an early close.
“Is it good?”
“Mhmm.” Suna mumbled through the rice that stuffed his cheeks. He looked adorable. There was something about his cool aura and sharp, yet soft features that had permanently hooked Osamu from the beginning. He missed getting to observe those features up close and quietly compliment them. He missed how Suna would get flustered and tell him to stop saying stupid, cheesy things. He missed Suna.
This feeling prevailed in spite of seeing Suna everyday. Osamu was convinced that EJP dedicated most of their funds to PR; everyday, the team’s official social media had some kind of posting about their players. Whoever was in charge of managing their social media either recognized the allure of Suna Rintarou and knew to capitalize off of it or had a personal vendetta against Osamu and sought to torture him in the worst way possible. His face constantly appeared in behind-the-scenes practice photos and “get to know the players” videos. At one point, rumors had spread that Suna was in a relationship with another professional athlete, but he had quickly disconfirmed the gossip on his personal account. In that moment, Osamu had felt a flood of relief, but he immediately regretted his selfishness. He loved Suna and should want him to pursue his best life no matter what, even if Osamu wasn’t a part of it.
But he was here now, looking at Osamu with hooded, sultry eyes. All four onigiri had magically disappeared and he picked up the empty plate in shock.
“That was a lotta food. Ya sure are hungry today.” He laughed.
“I guess I am. I wouldn’t mind getting a few to-go.” He continued to intently observe Osamu from his seat. Osamu felt paralyzed under his watchful gaze and could only continue to awkwardly laugh.
“I’ll get those ready for you…” He cleared his throat. “Um, I noticed you don’t have any bags...are you stayin’ with someone else?”
“I got a hotel room.”
“You could’ve stayed with me.”
“I didn’t want to impede.”
“Ya wouldn’t have.” He placed the plastic bag of food in front of Suna and moved around the counter to switch off the open sign.
“Closing so soon? That doesn’t sound like a good business practice.”
“Well, you never visit, and I want to spend more time with you. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. Remember how we used to sneak out at night to look at the stars? And then you would sleep over at my place?”
“Yea. I would wake up at five to get home before my parents noticed.” They chuckled at the memory together.
“Those were good times.”
Suna agreed to stay a night at Osamu’s place and they walked out of Onigiri Miya together while softly bumping shoulders like they used to do. He wore mostly EJP licensed clothing now, and the team’s bright colors contrasted beautifully with his dark features. The hoodie looked cozy on Suna and he briefly recalled him wearing something similar the first time he visited his restaurant. When they reached his apartment, Osamu unlocked the door with nervous hands, hyper aware of Suna’s presence behind him. He silently prayed that his apartment wasn’t too much of a mess.
Suna complimented his home’s simplicity and took a seat on his sofa. Osamu offered him a drink and he accepted a hot cup of tea. They sat and chatted for a few hours, but it was mostly Osamu doing the talking and sharing about his life. Suna gave cryptic responses to questions pertaining to his life outside of volleyball and Osamu began to fear for the worst again. He had to be in a relationship, he wouldn’t be this closed off otherwise. He figured Suna was trying to find the right words to reveal this fact to Osamu and let him down gently. Of course Suna would find someone else, he wouldn’t stay hung up on a high school fling for so many years like he did.
“Hey, that’s me.” Suna reached towards his coffee table and pushed aside the notes he had made for a new onigiri recipe. Underneath was a magazine with Suna on the cover.
“Uh, yea, ‘Tsumu was also interviewed so I bought it,” he lied. He hoped Suna hadn’t actually read the magazine and noticed that there was no mention of Atsumu anywhere in it. The real reason he purchased it was because of Suna’s personal interview contained within it. Suna had opened up about his family’s frequent moving when he was a child and having to adjust to different volleyball teams. He had once told all of these personal stories to Osamu and sworn him to secrecy, and now he was sharing them with the world. Initially, it made Osamu feel as though their years of devout camaraderie were reduced to nothing.
“Your interview was interesting too, Rin.” He quickly added, snatching the magazine from Suna and gripping it tightly in his hands while pretending to flip through its pages. Suna laughed.
“I missed you.” His hand slid over to rest on Osamu’s knee and his index finger began to draw small circles on his thigh. Osamu’s brain short-circuited. They hadn’t shown physical affection like this since their final year of high school. All three years at Inarizaki High, they had stayed in the same class, and when the teacher announced partner assignments, they always chose to work together. Underneath the cover of their pushed-together desks, Suna would reassuringly place his hand on Osamu’s thigh as they worked. The familiar touch intoxicated him. Suna continued to gently tap his finger as his hand moved further up his leg, leaving behind an electric tingle with each ghostly touch. “Will you let me kiss you, ‘Samu?”
Osamu promptly lost all brain functions. He barely managed to get out a soft ‘yea’ before Suna leaned in and pressed their lips together. It started slow, but quickly moved into something more desperate. Their movements became overwrought with hunger, and soon, Suna’s body weight was pinning Osamu down onto the sofa. Hands confidently roamed each other’s bodies and ventured underneath the cloth that separated them. They never used to touch each other with such passion and vigor but Osamu wasn’t going to complain about this new development. He had wanted Suna for so many years and now that he had him, he refused to let go.
The morning after, Suna disappeared along with the plastic bag of onigiri Osamu had put in the fridge. He left a note expressing his gratitude for the night and explained that he had other plans for the day and had to leave early. Osamu accepted the note without a question, his head still weightless from the high of their actions last night. Later that night, he returned again to get more food before he had to leave. Again, Osamu closed early to dedicate his full attention to Suna. After they wrapped up their night, Osamu prepared another bag of onigiri for his train ride home and offered to take him to the train station. He turned down the offer and left after a quick peck on the cheek. He announced he would be back soon to see him again, and Osamu could already feel unabated anticipation for his next visit.
He texted Suna to inform him of when he got home safe. He got a reply shortly after.
I’m safe haha thanks for your ceaseless concern ‘samu.
Osamu scrunched his eyebrows at the response. It was impossible for him to have already arrived home, but he appreciated the text back nonetheless. A few weeks later, he messaged Suna again asking when he was planning to return. Suna explained that his schedule had gotten unusually busy but he promised he would stop by soon. They started to talk more through text and both expressed their happiness at this reconnection.
Suna visited around the same time each month, and each time they did the same thing. Suna stopped by the restaurant and Osamu gave him food. They walked back to his apartment. They spent the night together. Suna left a day later. He didn’t quite understand how he could afford to take such frequent, short trips, but Suna simply explained that all the traveling was worth getting to see Osamu again.
“Yer telling me he comes by every month for two days just to see you?” Atsumu questioned. He came by to stay with their parents during his break and was taking advantage of the brotherly discount for free onigiri. Osamu nodded in agreement.
“No way in hell. Are ya on drugs or somethin’?”
“What do you mean?” Across from Atsumu, Osamu kept himself busy and shaped some onigiri.
“That can’t be Suna. He hasn’t visited since two years ago.”
“Quit messing around, ‘Tsumu. You weren’t here, you wouldn’t know.” Atsumu began frantically scrolling through his phone. When he found what he was looking for, he turned his phone towards Osamu.
“See? He was in Tokyo with Motoya-san last month at the exact same time you claimed he was here. How could he be here and all the way over there at the same time?” The photo showed Suna and Motoya smiling in front of the unmistakable bright signs of Shibuya.
“Where did you get that photo?”
“Motoya sent it to Omi-kun. Then, he sent it to me.” Osamu’s heart dropped. But how could it have been anyone other than Suna? There was no way any random person looked exactly like him and Suna never mentioned a secret twin. “I’m sorry, ‘Samu…”
He took his phone out and texted Suna, asking him what he remembered from his last trip to Hyogo.
Weird question. I remember visiting you, and then going out drinking with you and atsumu afterwards. I stayed for about a week but don’t remember much of it. Why do you ask?
He had described the trip he took two years ago. Suna hadn’t been back in two years. Atsumu had already left for their parents’ home when Suna replied to his text, and Osamu was glad to be alone in his apartment when he first read it. He couldn’t think. He didn’t sleep that night either, instead he stayed up planning what he was going to ask “Suna” when he next visited. According to his pattern, he should be paying a visit again in two weeks or so.
Atsumu stayed with him the next day. He had asked their parents about what it meant when there appeared to be two of one person. At first they had joked and said twins, but Atsumu clarified further to say when the person definitely didn’t have a twin. That’s when they brought up the bedtime stories they used to tell them as kids. Kitsune had the incredible power to shapeshift, and the more malevolent spirits would use this power to manipulate humans for their own selfish gain. Sometimes they wanted to steal a person’s life force, other times they simply wanted to meddle. A human form enabled them to seduce their targets, which is why they usually appeared as females. Osamu tried to rationalize that the spirits wouldn’t imitate Suna because he was male, but he barely believed his own excuse. Their powers weren’t exclusive to female forms, and if a male form was what it took to satisfy their victims’ desires, they would do it.
“‘Samu, if a kitsune has been trickin’ ya, then yer in trouble.”
“They can’t be real.”
“Yet there’s been two Suna’s runnin’ around. Do ya really think Suna would turn you down at graduation only to change his mind five years later?”
“How would it even imitate him so perfectly? It’s not like Suna’s around for reference.” Atsumu simply flashed his eyes towards the sports magazines on his coffee table that contained an infinite number of photos of Suna at every possible angle. Osamu also remembered EJP’s overzealous posting of photos and personal details of its players on social media. Somehow, the spirit did its research and created the best copy of Suna it could.
“Okay...but it knew things about Suna and I’s relationship that he definitely hasn’t shared with the public.”
“What kind of things?”
“Like how I used to sneak out at night to sleep at Suna’s. I don’t get how it would know that.”
Atsumu twitched his lips back and forth, deep in thought. When a moment of genius struck him, he gasped out loud.
“You said you used to sit on the hill by that weird wooded area with the old, broken torii gate, right? Ya know, the one that’s kinda weathered and tilted like it’s doin’ an oblique stretch,” Atsumu moved his body in demonstration.
Osamu made a motion for him to get to the point. “Yea. And…?”
“These creatures are notorious for being active at night. It was probably watchin’ you watch the stars. No other idiots would go near that creepy area at night. Boom! Easy target.”
“Okay, so it stalked us. Why play the long game and mess with me five years later?”
“It always came to the restaurant first to eat. Probably liked your food and used ya to get it for free.”
“Sounds like someone I already know.”
“Hey!”
The rest of the evening, they put their collective brain cells together and researched more on kitsune. There were two ways to get rid of them: reveal its true identity and chase it away or it succeeds in its mischief and leaves once your life is in shambles. Osamu couldn’t fathom why the spirit targeted him when, arguably, there was a much more deserving individual of such punishment right next to him. As much as he could, he tried to lead his life doing good whereas Atsumu has probably already committed numerous crimes against god. It didn’t seem fair. When he left town a few days later, Atsumu bid him good luck with catching the spirit.
With every customer that walked through the door, Osamu’s heart momentarily sped up in its beating, expecting it to be the kitsune again. He was ready to oust it from his life but feared confronting an evil spirit. How could he let himself be so easily deceived? He stared at the photo of Suna on the wall of his restaurant. He wanted nothing more than for the real Suna to walk through the door and comfort him after all the insanity that’s been happening. He could hear Suna lightly teasing him about it before offering words of encouragement and strength like he always did when Osamu was down. The chances of that happening were unlikely. Volleyball season was just starting to pick up speed again and all the teams were busy traveling for games.
About a week later, “Suna” arrived as usual just as the sun began to hide behind the buildings of the city. Osamu thought he would be nervous when this moment came, but instead he felt unrelenting anger. The spirit, wearing the same EJP hoodie, smiled warmly at Osamu and sat down in its usual seat.
“Hey, ‘Samu. Missed me?”
“Not really.” He responded coldly. The kitsune looked confused.
“O-kay.”
“Why don’t we just go back to my apartment now?”
“Um...sure?” The kitsune willingly let Osamu drag it out of the restaurant. His fingers wrapped firmly around its bony wrist and he could feel its pulse underneath the warm skin. Only a powerful spirit could create such a convincing illusion. He squeezed harder with the intent of hurting the being and tainting its perfect illusion with flowering bruises of black and blue. “Ow, ‘Samu, stop! What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” His tone was angry.
“Why are you mad?” Osamu quickly turned and released the spirit from his painful grip.
“Stop messing with me, you’re just here to cause trouble and ruin my life! Leave me alone!”
The spirit stammered for words. Osamu felt satisfaction at catching it in its act.
“Uh..okay..I-I’m sorry, I guess?” It turned to leave, rubbing at the wrist Osamu had abused, and disappeared behind a building after turning a corner. Osamu walked back to his restaurant and flipped the sign back on to open. It buzzed to life and lit the stone sidewalk up in a peaceful green hue. Customers poured through as usual and he felt a great weight lift off of his shoulders as his life returned to normal. Later that night, he called Atsumu to boast about his victory but his brother didn’t pick up. He threw himself face first into the disorganized mess of pillows on his bed. On multiple nights, the kitsune had infiltrated his home and tricked Osamu into laying with it on this exact bed. He felt sick to his stomach. His foolishness and desperation blinded him, and now he felt nothing but humiliated and violated. The chime of his clock from the kitchen beckoned him to get rest for tomorrow, and Osamu picked up his pillows and comforter to sleep on the couch.
He woke up the next morning to a text from Atsumu.
why is suna texting me? why are you mad at him?
Osamu asked for clarification. Atsumu explained that Suna had reached out to him to ask about Osamu’s unusually irate behavior when he visited. The words escaped his screen and screamed at him until he could hear nothing but a ringing in his ears. The kitsune hadn’t come back. Suna had visited. The Suna with whom he shared every lunch in high school and disclosed his most embarrassing secrets to. His Suna. The spirit accomplished what it set out to do—it destroyed his and Suna’s delicate connection, probably driving him away for good. Leaving the ruins of his relationship behind, the kitsune had disappeared.
Osamu allowed the cold, clawed hands of depression to engulf him for the next few days. He went to work as usual, but simply operated on autopilot, unaware of the movements his body made. When he got home, he attempted to distract himself with various forms of media, but always ended up lying flat on the couch and staring up at the ceiling. Every now and then, the thought of texting Suna crossed his mind, but he didn’t know how he could even begin to explain himself. “Hey, I’m sorry about that, I was targeted by an evil fox spirit.” Suna would never buy it, he’d probably think it was an excuse he borrowed from Atsumu.
His brother checked in on him everyday to make sure he was still alive. His twin kept insisting that Osamu break out of his negative state of mind and just call Suna. Osamu refused. If he called and Suna didn’t pick up, he would begin drafting his will (leaving absolutely nothing to Atsumu), then proceed to bury himself in the small patch of grass in front of his apartment. He may have been sad, but he still had a will to live.
Two weeks later, he was serving onigiri at one of Atsumu’s games. His brother hoped that the upbeat ambience of a professional volleyball game would help shake him out of his depressive state. From years of practice, he was able to let the loud cheers and stomps of fans fade into the back of his mind and focus on using the sounds of the referee’s whistle and players’ squeaky shoes to decipher the game’s events as he prepared food. Osamu could feel from the atmosphere that the Jackals were winning, and he unconsciously smiled at his brother’s success. He followed along with the fans’ catchy cheers, and soon enough, the match was over. His onigiri sold relatively well with only a few of the more exotic flavors remaining. At some point, he would thank Atsumu for bringing his little shop exposure. Humming along to the mainstream music that blasted over the speakers, Osamu began packing up his supplies to go home.
“Excuse me, do you happen to have any onigiri left?” A voice inquired. From where he was crouched under the counter, Osamu peered up to see Suna leaning over the divider, eyebrows raised in amusement. He was dressed the way he used to in high school—an oversized black hoodie with black athletic sweatpants and sneakers. No bright colors indicative of EJP paraphernalia, just the black void he knew Suna preferred to dress as. He bumped his head as he stood up.
“Um, nothing you would like…” he timidly spoke while looking over to the onigiri he didn’t sell.
“That’s fine. Maybe I could get one of these stupid hats then?” He plucked one from where it rested by the cash register and put it on. Osamu hadn’t invested in a poster yet, so he had to settle with using hats and an apron to advertise his company’s name.
“I’ll have to charge ya for it.”
“I never asked for a hand out.” This was no illusion. This was the snarky Suna he knew and loved standing in front of him. Osamu just smiled at his friend, too distracted by the captivating beauty of Suna Rintarou wearing his company’s logo to remember their last encounter. As he adjusted the hat on his head, his sleeves slipped down and revealed yellow-ish brown spots on his right wrist that fanned out like a watercolor painting against his fair skin.
“Ah, shit.” He said when the memory crept back into his mind. Suna raised an eyebrow. “I’m really sorry ‘bout yelling at you and hurting your wrist. I know you bruise easily.”
“Don’t even worry about it. Atsumu explained the whole thing. I didn’t believe it at first because rule number one is don’t believe anything that comes out of Miya Atsumu’s mouth.”
A shrill “What!” could be heard from behind a pillar. Still in full uniform, Atsumu poked his head out from where he was hiding. Passing fans stared in awe at him and took discrete photos as they walked.
“Feel free to continue. Just pretend I’m not here!” Osamu glared at the pillar as Atsumu turned back around.
“I hate him.”
“Well, none of this,” he gestured between himself and Osamu, “could have been possible without him. I always thought you stopped talking to me because of the button thing. I legitimately thought you hated me.”
“Rin, I don’t hate you.”
“And, I know that now because of your awful brother.” He went on to explain that he believed Osamu’s disgruntled attitude at their last meeting was a result of him wanting to cut ties permanently. Their relationship filled a special spot in both their hearts, and he knew there would be negative consequences from their lives going in separate directions metaphorically and literally. Nonetheless, their lives and their love had become so complexly intertwined, any efforts to separate them proved futile and, in fact, impossible. A drop of water can be split into two, but its constitution will still remain the same. Once their timelines realigned, they could come together again. Suna didn’t intend to remove himself from Osamu completely, and the feelings they ignited in high school never flickered out in his heart. He continued to support Osamu in the background, even if he hadn’t known it.
“Which is kind of why I’m here…” Suna tilted his head down, eyes still stuck on Osamu. Behind him, a short woman in a suit approached. “It’s why I kept putting off visiting you. I was going to tell you about it when I went to visit, but you weren’t exactly in the mood.”
The woman introduced herself as a marketing manager for Suna’s team. After Suna’s visit two years ago, he had pitched the idea of working on a partnership between EJP and Onigiri Miya to his team’s business managers. At first, their financial advisors advocated against working with a startup company, but now his business was established and flourishing. She had been very impressed with how well his products sold during this game and, after seeing his success with their target audience, wanted to move forward with partnership negotiations.
“Of course, that would mean opening up another location closer to our city. But don’t worry about costs, we’ll cover all of that.” She smiled at Osamu, waiting for an answer. His mind went blank at the information presented to him. A partnership with a sports team had the potential to boost his customer base by unthinkable amounts. And, he would have to move East for a short period of time to help get the new restaurant up and running. He looked up towards Suna who smirked with knowing eyes.
“So, what do you think? You want to come back East with me and open another store?”
“Absolutely.”