Archive of Our Own ^beta

Shouhei is a simple kid.

He lives a simple life, in a simple neighborhood with a simple, peaceful family of four. He does things as he is told, wakes up in the morning after at least 7 hours of sleep, and prefers his breakfast consisting of his favorite brand of dried squids at best and simple, un-toasted plain bread at worst.

Drama, he's never been fond of it. Why turn matters of trivial tasks into long, dwindling problems when you can afford the former. Appreciating every small detail of life, both the goods and bads. Like a painter tenderly brushing strokes of paint on their white canvas, one by one.

Listening to the early birds at dawn, the hustle and bustle of the school canteen at noon and stargazing the skies of his neighborhood from his rooftop at night while drafting constellations of the stars, is how he would define the term of "simplicity" were you to ask him. Life is like a fascinating documentary, and he finds that realization by simply taking a moment to slow down and relieve every one of the little building blocks that construct it.

That is to say, Shouhei isn't fond of dramas when he himself is involved in it. Other people's drama, on the other hand? He would often let himself indulge in.

See, Shouhei isn't one who prefers to speak of his thoughts. The cogworks in his brain move fast, fast enough for most of others to have trouble keeping up with his vocal explanations.

So, he developed the habit of an observer, keenly noting the movement and behaviours of others around him. Like how an owl stalks its prey from the bushes, or how an apprentice would diligently embed a new knowledge passed down to them by their teacher in a class.

(A simple heart, and a cognizant mind. He makes for a good journal writer, or a reporter, even)

He gets those thoughts about himself the most during his everyday walk to school.

Half an hour of walking every morning from his house just to start the weekday isn't exactly most people's preference, and Shouhei is inclined to agree more often than not. His perfectly intact bike that is neatly parked in his front yard would surely nod in agreement too, but the abundance of dopamine-inducing encounters he could often find on his way is his little secret of enjoying every single day of these otherwise tedious walks.

Strangers of all kinds, be it children, those around his age, and adults, can be found mingling in their daily lives during the golden hours between sunrise until his first class schedule.

An old man feeding a bundle of stray cats in an alleyway.

A child, ingenuously playing hide and seek in a park with his buddies.

 Men and women alike, probably twenty-something, face as if they had just seen a ghost, rushing into a train station, leaving small clicking noises on their wake as their leather shoe tramples the ground, and many more.

He enjoys recording each and every snippet of these people's little shenanigans, relieving them in his brain as a form of memory. He never thought of any particular answer as to why, but he always does, like it's on autopilot. Something he did out of personal will, yet with no clear intention nor necessity.

(Some of his friends often question him for it. He just like to think that their standard of humor is just too low to understand)

Out of all the differing ages of people he often took a memory of, the most he often remembers are those of passerbys his age, high schoolers also on their way to their respective academy.

For one, their actions are the most unhinged, unpredictability over the roof. They gave him the most surprises with their behaviour, whether it's for better or worse. For two, he can sometimes relate their actions with those of his own past actions, and... Well, either be ashamed or impressed by the fact that he had done things that could make himself cringe.

(After the multiple occurrences of him laughing his ass off in public because of a sub-par joke he made up on his head, Shouhei had come to the conclusion that his standard for humiliation is quite high, so getting him to cringe out of second-hand embarrassment is quite the feat on its own.)

Shouhei is a simple kid, yes, and for him, finding happiness or satisfaction is as easy as seeing other people's little doings and benevolence.

(And silliness, and dramas, and accidents. But he savors those parts for himself, and not even the colorful post-it notes he stashed at the corner of his room which record his sightseeings gets the honor of journalizing them.)

-

Shouhei’s morning gimmick originated from way back during his elementary years.

Back then, his elementary school is quite literally right outside the broad alleyway his house is addressed at, and he had often begged for his parents to send him to a school a bit further away so that he could try a morning cycle like the other kids in his class without it feeling like a total pushover (because really, he could just crawl from the side of the road and it would still only take him about 10 minutes to arrive at the gates of his school).

So his parents did grant him what they could find as he graduated, a middle school with about 10 minutes of cycling to the outskirts of their city. It's a worthy accommodation, and a welcomed one that is. But his childish ego still felt like it's not enough.

He craved for a little more challenge, so he started to walk.

It just enlightened him one sunny morning that he could theoretically just walk his way onto school as long as he remains on-time, and nobody will fault him for an extra jog, either.

Though maybe he should’ve chosen another timing instead of just leaving his bike leaning on the side of the road the moment the bright idea came to his mind, then maybe he wouldn't have to spend half of his life savings just to buy another one.

His dried out wallet and stolen bike aside, Shouhei decided to gather enough wits and courage to face his parents (again) about his newfound odd interest. And surely enough after middle school (and a whole-night worthy of lecture about why one should have NOT leave their bike winding on the side of the road in broad daylight without any safety measures), his parents gave him more freedom with a solid 20 minutes worth of cycling in the morning, for every weekday, until his last day of high school. With an extra premise of always keeping his bike lock ready.

Maybe he just doesn't want to risk the other half of life savings again. But point being, Shouhei decided to walk instead.

At first, it was a mess.

He did not predict just how long the road would take when endured by foot and missed his first class on his first day by half an hour. Did not end well. The few weeks after, he is too busy making sure not to repeat the first day incident to actually enjoy what had made him choose the path he was taking; sightseeing the hustle and bustles of dawn.

Even when he did prepare an extra hour from his home for the walk, he couldn't find any pacing, a rhythm for his gait. Boredom would start latching its arms at the back of his head and he would be guaranteed to lose any interest in putting much effort into looking at other people’s morning business as he passed by.

The conclusion? Even trying to get his own mood into a groove just for something as simple as a jog to school is not easy. And it's only during his first walks as a second year when he really starts to find his zone, as is able to take more time and breathe in every meek detail of his track.

Shouhei remembered the exact day, the exact date, and how it came to play.

It was a peaceful dawn, the fragrant, fresh sensation of spring dancing in the air. The thought of finally leaving his year-one title behind and promoting to become a second-year high schooler fills him with positive anticipation. Gingerly waving his hand at any flock of birds or neighbors alike, like an excited parrot greeting its homecoming owner. But instead of cawing and chirping, he gave them the pleasant view of his upturned lips and a friendly wave.

Mornings, he really does love that time of the day. The air is crisp and humid, the atmosphere is filled with positivity and a fresh start, and people tend to respect the waking of mother nature until later at noon for him to enjoy the peaceful, undisturbed silence of the world.

Save for maybe a few loose birds, or passing vehicles, or the random cry of someone's baby. Or...

 “TOBIOOOOOO!!!”

... Or maybe, as he had come to witness that day, the booming, non-descript scream of a high school duo.

He couldn't exactly call it an encounter, per se, as the only concrete memory he has in store of the two are the loud, obnoxious scream of competitive-ness accompanying the rushing footsteps foreshadowing their arrival. As Shouhei is blessed with a pair of perfectly intact ears, he had managed to move out of the way on time as they zoomed pass him, backpacks dangling on their back as they disappeared in an instance of a roundabout a few meters away, their egoistical yelling echoing down the vacant streets.

(A kid with raven hair and a shorter one with orange- honestly, people's hair color nowadays.)

If he were to guess, they're probably good friends. A competitive rivalry born out of a bond. Though from the looks of it, they’re fresh first-years. And considering it's only been a week since the new student’s welcoming ceremony, either that they've been friends since childhood or are just very good at rubbing themselves together as friends- it has only been a week, afterall.

How nice.

For most, it's not the most eye-catching. Bothersome, even. Screams of a random highschooler at 6 AM isn't the most pleasant to hear, afterall. But for Shouhei, it's the semblance of a tease. He saw them, having their own time, and felt the corner of his lip curve up a smirk without his order.

Yes, these are what he’s looking for. The little push that his heart required. A tinge of playful curiosity.

Shouhei thrives in simplicity, for better or worse. It could lead him down tumbling roads, but not that day. That day, the small encounter had given him a reason to continue on his silly, comical, unusual gimmick.

And that day, was the first. He was thrilled to see what the future dawns have for him as he whistles to the wind, continuing his winding towards school; mind still wandering about the odd, loudsome duo.

-

One of the non-biotic subjects that Shouhei often delivered a greeting to on his way to school is a vending machine right outside the convenience store across his street.

From the outside, it serves nothing special. A few canned drinks, sweets, and some cheap-branded savories few will ever lay eyes upon. But for Shouhei, it is one of the best; if not the absolute of his favorite place to visit before carrying on with his day. All because of one snack it serves; a simple, economical quality dried squid, price low enough for him to bargain with the spares left from his everyday purchase.

Unfortunately for Shouhei, one fateful day, he stumbles upon the humble-looking metal box only to be met with the sight of the small light right beneath his favorite snack beeping with deep-red, and a scribbled note lazily written on a post-it slapped right above the display of the snack taunts him with its content.

OUT OF STOCK

…Damn it.

Having been a regular customer of the vending machine and the convenience store it is located at, he can quickly deduce it would probably take a while for his lovely appetizer to be restocked; one month at best, six more at worst. Using his sub-par mathematical skill for about 10 seconds, that means he would have to go through some solid 22 business days without any mouthful to munch upon before school- and time it by six or seven depending on his unluckiness.

Well, sucks to suck.

With a disappointed huff, Shouhei inserts his clenched fist containing the now crumpled sheet of money back to his pocket. He shifts away from the front of the machine to give space for the two people behind him, lightly tucking in the side of his foot onto his shoe with a flick before motioning away.

He hears the sound of money getting inserted to the gap on the machine, and the press of a button. Must be nice to have your desired food in stock, he thought to himself, already pacing away and a hand about to fish out a small pocket book from his bag.

But before he could do so, an exasperated grumble followed by a bang made him shoot a glance over his shoulder, meeting the view of two other high schoolers- one with his fist connected to the glass display of the vending machine in a clenched position, and the other slightly behind with an amused expression and folded arms infront of his chest.

“Dammiiiiit! Not this one too!” The one right infront of the machine wails, knocking his forehead flat on the glass. “Again!? What the hell! Shinsuke, I swear to god, these machines have sum’ sort of vendetta against me!”

The one on the back- Shinsuke, Shouhei muses to himself, hums in return. His brows arched and his expression tells Shouhei that he’s rather entertained than anything else of his friend’s misfortune. “Considering yer tendencies, maybe this is how the world communicates to ya to learn your lessons, ‘Kagi.”

‘Kagi, with a vague A at the front, and an unusual dialect.

“Oh, come on.” (Shouhei assumes his name is spelled as) Akagi hisses, posture slouched towards the machine but his head tilted to the side, shooting a glance at the other. “What ‘lessons’? I didn't do jack! And we’ve spent half an hour runnin’ here ‘cause the one near our school’s broken and ya said you’ll accompany me since ya wanna buy something too! Dont pretend yer all angel and allat!”

And upon that, Shinsuke’s brows eases, expression reversing back to vacant. Shouhei does the opposite.

Half an hour of jog, just for a vending machine? Dedication. But what’s wrong with the machine anyways? From the guy infront of the machine’s reaction (Akagi, Shouhei muses once more), it's something about the machine itself. But he heard the sound of money being inserted, and a button being pressed.

If it's due to the snack being out of stock, they shouldn't be pressing any button in the first place. Letting out a sigh like Shouhei did before continuing on their walk is more plausible and effective, no hustle needed to be made. So unless whoever manages the machine is a brat who lies about the food’s stock count or they realized that they inserted the wrong amount of money and was supposed to use it for their student council tax…

Shouhei’s curiosity is hooked.

While the two start bantering infront of the machine (“Who buys peanuts, of all things, from a vending machine anyways?” “Oh, shut it! My money, my rules!”), Shouhei pretended to walk away before taking a U-turn back to where he came from, stopping a few meters behind the two. Trying not to look as awkward as he can get, looking left and right before craning his neck to the side, attempting to take view of what may have happened with the machine.

Overpayed? Nah. The screen on the right of the machine above the number keypad showed that they inserted the money of average value for the foods, the same one he would've used for his dried squid. Out of stock? Not that either, if the guy truly did buy peanuts- eavesdropping skill- then it's still fully stocked, and the beeping light beneath the display for it showcases green.

Maybe it's something else? Like the machine dropped the wrong snack due to malfunction, or maybe Akagi bought two of it but the machine dropped only one and the other still stuck on the edge of the-

Wait.

Oh.

Shouhei peers further, his eyes widening.

“It's the third time,” Akagi rambles loud enough for Shouhei to catch, “This had happened the past two weeks. Three times, in TWO WEEKS! Someone make a better design for these junkbots or else ‘m gonna sue!”

“This is why ya shouldnt buy peanuts from vending machines.” Shinsuke sighs, though the hint of fondness betrays his pity. He takes a step forward, index finger tracing the bag of peanuts stubbornly hanging on the corner of its shelf, leaning against the glass, just out of the two boys’ reach.

Aah, that’s the problem.

“The problem aint about whether I buy peanuts or whatever, ya bastard,” Akagi rolls his eyes, one hand still banging the glass in a futile attempt to shake the bag off. No avail. “‘S about the design of these machines allowing these…” Another bang, “…INCIDENTS, to happen every damn time!”

“…And because you incessantly kept on buying peanuts.” Shinsuke insists. “Watch.”

The white-haired (with black tips, Shouhei observes) high schooler inserts his share of money into the slot, presses the code for his desired snack that is conveniently stationed above the shelf of peanuts, and waits. His posture shows no sign of concern as opposed to Akagi who, in a rather vengeful manner, stares at the incoming snack expectantly like a hungry predator observing its prey.

Shouhei meanwhile, like an enthrilled spectator uninvited to the show, widens his eyes.

Beep.

“Come on please pleasepleaseplease-“

Shink!

…thud.

Fortunately, the snack falls into the slot without much hassle. Unfortunately, the snack falls without much hassle. The silver bag of delicacy Shinsuke ordered smoothly drops down with no contact with Akagi’s bag of peanuts that is still smugly leaning against the glass, without even budging.

Akagi visibly cringes as Shinsuke blinks.

“…An attempt has been made.”

“Oh come on!” Akagi throws his hands up, sending a kick at the machine in spite, ignoring the pain thereafter. Shinsuke stares, shaking his head with a sigh as if a tired mother would at his friend’s rage fit before grabbing his own share from the slot. “Thirty minutes worth of walking and two hundred worth of money!? Im gonna-“ His enraged friend squals, grasping his own hair, and then banging the glass, and back at his own hair again.

Shouhei finds himself snorting at the sight.

A high schooler throwing a fit for the sight of his snack stuck in a vending machine, can that fit for a newspaper headline?

“Dont overdo it.” Shinsuke pats his friend- now slouched in a crouched position against the side of the machine like a depressed man on the shoulder. Shouhei guesses he finally felt remorse upon seeing Akagi’s rather pitiful look and decides to spend his last sheet of cash to buy him an extra. “Come on, do me a favor and get up. We’re gon’ be late for class and I'm not tellin’ the teacher we got in late because of somethin’ as stupid as this.”

“Heartless prick,” Akagi grunts, though he gets up and snatches the pack of seaweed Shinsuke hands him anyway. Swiftly hooking his bag from the ground with a leg, grabbing it with another hand before sending a murderous glare at his pack of peanuts inside the machine. “Next time this happens I’m callin’ the cops.”

“Goodluck convincing them to do somethin’ about it,”  Shinsuke walks off, calling over as he takes spare glances at the watch strapped on his wrist. Akagi mutters something under his breath, took one last shot at his supposed-to-be delicacy before hopping off, gait steadily matching Shinsuke’s own as the two slowly disappear amidst the dwindling road and buzzing chatters of the waking neighborhood.

Leaving Shouhei sticking out on the road, eyes turning towards the machine.

He stares at it for a passing minute, inching closer, eyeing the pack of nuts left abandoned by the two students from their previous scene.

Out of wonder, he curls his knuckles before gently tapping the glass, right above the stuck snack.

The sound of a bag falling off and into the slot of the vending machine earned him a smirk thereafter.

-

The crunchy sound of squids grinded down by his teeth and the rhythmic thud of his shoes is not enough to wind out the unease settled within Shouhei.

He eyes the open book in his hand as if staring at it hard enough would make it disappear, flickering between pages with one hand on his chin. An old lady takes a glance at him as he walks by, and he’d reckon that she thought him as a hard-working student reviewing some previous lessons to deepen his understanding. How diligent!

Firstly ma'am, thank you very much. Second, she isn't wrong, per se. It's just that Shouhei isn't reviewing the materials in the book to deepen his understanding, he’s re-reading the explanations scribbled on the pages over and over again because he has almost no damn idea what they all mean in the first place.

Even his favourite snack isn't enough to help him solve the puzzles and equations, maybe he should've brought a certain pack of peanuts to munch on, so that he could relieve his stress by pulverising them enough with his jaws instead.

May my memories be damned, seems like missing school yesterday after forgetting where he left his phone at a mall really is the worst thing that could happen when you have an evaluation the next day.

Shouhei sighs in defeat, flailing the math book lazily and scratching his scalp. What’s the formula of discriminant again? Isn't that something from junior high?

“…-discriminant of a polynomial is a quantity that depends on the coefficients and allows deducing some properties of the roots without computing them.”

He’s too engrossed in his little brainstorm it seems, to notice a trio walking not too far beside him, murmuring between each other in discussion.

“That's what the internet has to say.” One of them closes his phone, and Shouhei could picture his white with purple accent jacket heating up following its wearer’s grumble of irritation. “We’ve recalled this last week, didn't we? It's from junior high. I've taught the both of you, dumbass.”

“I never asked for its definition, dipfreak,” Another of his height, dusty silver hair with a jacket of white and turquoise snaps back. “I asked for its damned formula. What is it, again? ‘B^2 -4-ac’?”

“-4ac.” The tallest of them sighs, pointing at the book on his hand. “And then you add it to the root of the final formula to finish the job.” He strokes his own ginger hair as the two shorter guys start spitting insults at each other in front of him, the previous explanation going unnoticed. 

Shouhei wishes to sympathize with the tall dude’s great affair but instead chooses to creep closer towards them. 

No problem in eavesdropping studying together, yes? Symbiotic relationship.

“God help me.” Mr. Short-with-purple jacket groans, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, Yahaba, I'll repeat this again.”

He grabs a book previously pinched between his armpit and his torso, opening a page undecipherable to Shouhei and faces it towards the silver-haired. “As Kawanishi said, the discriminant's formula is written as B^2 -4ac.”

The other two (plus Shouhei behind them) nod with a hum. “Then,” The flick of a page. “You put the result of it as the root for this formula,” He impatiently taps a space on the book, “And then you calculate the whole thing to get the final result.”

The book is withdrawn, Yahaba exhales while cursing at the skies and Kawanishi stares him down flatly in empathy. “Any questions?”

Shouhei missed half of the thing Mr. Short-with-purple jacket said and missed the other half of the following argument because he quickly scrambled for his pen as soon as the formula was spoken.

“-that couldn't make sense because what the hell does this,” Yahaba points sharply at his own book, “Has to do with discriminant!? Where do you even conclude that you need discriminant to finish this!?”

Mr. Short-with-purple jacket’s (Shouhei really needs to catch that one’s name) mouth is wide open in absolute bewilderment. Kawanishi’s sigh can be heard as a quiet prayer.

“How,” The former repeats, voice dangerously low. “You tell me, how did I get to the conclusion that we need this godforsaken formula to complete this?”

Yahaba doesn't reply. Couldn't, not after the murderous glare piercing him like a thousand needles. From his back view, Shouhei could see Kawanishi’s shoulders shake.

Shaking with laughter?

“Look at this.” Mr. Purple jacket furiously rips the book from Yahaba’s hand, eyes trained. “You tell me, how could I ever guess that we need this specific route taken to finish the equation,”

Yahaba winces. “When it's literally written,”

“Right.

Over.

Here!”

Kawanishi cannot hide his dense laughter as the book flies its way towards Yahaba, faceplanting him with an oomfh. To no one’s surprise, the physical attack only prolongs their bicker, with Kawanishi’s “You two are hopeless as hell” commentating their fight.

Shouhei busies himself in writing down the information he just regained, trying hard to resist the chaos before his eyes by stifling a laugh a few meters behind them.

“You should’ve just come to-”

“No, no, Shirabu. For the love of god. That joke is dead.”

-

To no one’s surprise, Shouhei loves nature documentaries. He’s never picky about preferences of the outdoors, never the one to make hassle about the inconveniences during a camping trip or an expedition. He is however, always the one to stop every five meters or so of a hike to take pictures of the serene landscapes, or to simply sightsee a caterpillar feeding on the yellowing leaves of the woodland floras.

Humans aren't the only sentient beings he often perceives, aferall. The rows of files and notebooks about mother nature and its inhabitants decorating the shelf of his bedroom is the evidence of that fact.

He considered himself blessed, as the park at the end of one of the avenues he often passes through in the morning is a hotspot for birds of all kinds to feed at every now and then. Pigeons, crows, you name it. If he’s luckier than average, the mediocre-sized pond overseen by multiple benches and overlapping wood platforms could even attract the likes of swans and cranes.

Shouhei would often allow himself to take a detour to visit the place when his morning schedule isn't as dense, sketching and feeding the birds as he writes down any eyecatching details of them for his own amusement.

 As per weekday morning standards, the park can be considered completely vacant of other human beings save for the occasional oldies. Which is why Shouhei finds it eye-catching when he sees someone other than the elderlies by the park, backpack set aside and a book withdrawn, currently being read by the person with one hand.

Not only is the sight fairly uncommon on weekdays; the guy is obviously his age, as per his gray outercoat representing that of a highschool uniform, but the abundance of pigeons hustling and bustling all around the guy makes for a fairly photograph-worthy sight. Some birds even climbed up the bench (Which is actually Shouhei’s lucky bench, a sweet spot for overseeing the whole area) the person is seated at, curiously approaching from each side or even perched on his short, messy-black hair, but the guy does nothing as to even show the slightest of discomfort.

Shouhei’s eyes widen. 

Fellow bird appreciator?

The public analog clock close by shows that whoever this person is, by estimating the pages of the book he have read through and the amount of feathered creatures settled in, he has to have been standby the park about 20-30 minutes prior, Which for Shouhei’s weekday morning standard, is an impressive feat.

Average school-skipper or a diligent morning person?

He isn't saying that it's impossible for other students to drop by the park as he does, it's just an unusual occurrence.

(And if one were to ask, yes, Shouhei claims himself unusual enough to wander around the park in the morning without repercussions, so he doesn't count.)

One of the pigeons enliving the scene chirps, and Shouhei is caught red-handed staring as the person on the bench shoots his head up.

Uh oh.

“…Ah,” A pair of serene eyes greets him, eyebrows raised. “Greetings?”

Crap. Shouhei freezes. Being caught dead and greeted by someone he may-or-may-not had just stalked isn't part of his bucket list today. He replies with a dubious wave, internally cursing at how stiff he must've looked like now. Where’s your self-confidence when you need it, damn it!

“Do you have-“ Seeing his wave, the guy, either from pure reflection or in an attempt to keep the camaraderie, waves back. “Um. Hi.”

Well, hello to you too.

“Do you have anything I can help with?” He puts aside his beige-colored book, slipping it back inside his bag causing some of the birds encompassing him to scatter. His eyes never left Shouhei’s, and vice versa. From his slight scrunch, Shouhei bets he’s trying to remember what business he may have with him.

None, so far as he remembers, is the problem.

“The bench is open for everyone, you know.” The guy offers at the sight of Shouhei awkwardly standing like a deer in headlights, moving aside and making a space on the bench, which is immediately crowded by a bundle of pigeons.  He rolls his eyes, but does nothing to the feathered creatures and instead focuses back on Shouhei. “…I won't bite, either.”

Fair point…

Shouhei inches closer, a hand on his chest as he commits a small bow of apologies. His newfound conversational partner waves a dismissive hand, shifting aside as he takes a seat beside him. 

A sub-par silence blankets the two as the other guy settles his bag on his lap, looking at the distance with seemingly no interest in breaking the ice (yet, because Shouhei isn't planning on losing). The birds around them continue on their mingling, paying no mind to the slightly awkward silence of the two humans viewing them.

Shouhei is mid-way of counting all the birds and giving each of them individual names when the person next to him finally sighs, dropping his head before exhaling. Looking back at Shouhei, his voice is laced with an inquisitive tone. “Taking a detour from your school again?”

Caught. Shouhei tilts his head, face scrunched and mimicking the question “howdya know?”. A (satisfied) smirk answers his confusion. “Saw you on occasions here as well. Sketching and writing things on this bench.”

A pair of eyes observes him from head to toe, from his grimed sneakers to neatly folded tie. “Not all high schoolers would dedicate extra time just to take a moment in a measly park to watch birds.”

The observer being the one observed? Shouhei still isn't one of a kind.

“Ah, pardon.” The person coughs, looking away with a hint of shame before turning back. A hand reaches out to him with invitation. “Name’s Akaashi, by the way.”

Shouhei, he mouths, earning a nod without question.

“My house’s close by,” Akaashi shrugs his head to his right, hand busy fishing something out of the backpack on his lap. “Ive seen you by multiple occurrences every now and then. I didn't recognize you at first, but your school attire is a handy clue.”

Ah. So, he had recognized me since the start?

“Ive had some guess.”

Perceptive.

A warm chuckle escapes Akaashi at that. “See, memorize, repeat, yes? I thought that giving these birds something to eat in the morning while reading isn't a bad habit to start.” He hums, hand busy ransacking his bag for something. Shouhei squints, and Akaashi’s intention becomes clear as he pulls out a medium-sized container filled with an arrangement of warm-colored birdfeeds.

Fellow bird appreciator, truly.

“I dunno if I should thank you or not.” Akaashi grins, “Seeing you feeding these fellas every now and then tempted me to try it out myself. And you know what?”

He opens the lid of the canister, setting it aside and grabbing a handful of the rich-colored seeds, opening his palm and tossing it to the waiting creatures infront of them. The birds cheer in unison as they hastily pluck on the foods scattered around, and Akaashi turns at Shouhei.

“This isn't as bad of a morning routine to commit.”

Shouhei could feel his eyes gleam.

Akaashi offers him the birdfeeds, and he grabs a handful of his own.

A whole crowd of the birds swarms him in an instance, earning a laugh from both of the boys as Akaashi voices a taunting snicker at his struggle against the horde of feathered creatures. Damned snitch.

Guess there are other people out there who also share delight in small, simple moments.