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Suna calls it their new summer tradition, them going to Tempozan.
“We’ll still go to the beach,” he reassures Osamu as they stop by the seahorses and observe their tiny curled tails, “but the weather’s too hot for now, so some other day.”
The temperature today is 32 degrees Celsius,which, honestly, isn’t that bad, all things considered. But being outside in the hot sun when it’s 32 degrees for hours on end can wear even the most resilient beach-goer out, and Suna is neither a resilient beach-goer nor a lover of the sun on any normal occasion.
“Besides,” Suna adds, as he tears his eyes away from the exhibit and starts to move along, “isn’t this kinda fun?”
It is, it truly is enjoyable, to visit the aquarium with Suna. Suna who squints at fish and mumbles things about them under his breath so that only Osamu can hear, Suna who appears unexcitable but points things out to Osamu with a small smile on his face that can’t be faked. The same Suna who’s now watching clownfish weave through bunches of sea anemone and nodding to Osamu’s commentary about the rest of the exhibit.
“I thought you didn’t like fish,” Osamu comments as they walk along, hands shoved in his pockets as he glances at Suna.
“Yeah, not really a fan of putting my head in the sea.” Suna peers into the next exhibit, a replica of a vibrant coral reef housing shoals of small creatures. “But I like aquariums. And I like these.”
Osamu hums, nudging Suna to the side for a better look. Suna nudges back, scoffing, and then they’re laughing a little, keeping it together while other visitors to the aquarium join them in admiring the view. Osamu wonders vaguely what they might look like to these people: two young adults just messing around, standing a little too close to each other, shoulders rubbing, Suna grabbing Osamu’s arm while they laugh over what seems to be nothing at all.
But the lights are dim and the ambient sounds are soothing and absolutely nobody cares, not Osamu, not Suna, not the other patrons of the aquarium, not the fish in the very least.
Osamu was never an “aquarium” kid—he’d always preferred the zoo growing up. Maybe he was a “fish” kid, though, because he liked to eat fish, because he liked to go to the beach and kick around the ocean with Atsumu the way children do, and because their grandfather used to bring them to fish every other summer.
But there’s also something about coming here and seeing these flamboyant, majestic aquatic creatures up close in the confines of dark hallways. The appeal of the snow white seal that he knows resides at the end of the aquatic trail. The allure of air conditioning.
And now, the company.
“I remember what comes next,” Suna says after, as they move away from the coral reefs and turn the corner. “It’s the big tank, isn’t it? The one everyone looks forward to.”
“The sharks,” Osamu reminds him, being the better-acquainted amongst them two. “The Pacific Ocean exhibit.”
“Mmmm. I mean, how much of the ocean can they fit in there? I—oh.”
Probably not that much, Osamu starts to say in response, but then Suna comes to a halt, loosening his grip on Osamu’s forearm, and they arrive at the largest exhibit in the aquarium: the long tank sitting in the middle of the room before rows of viewing platforms, amidst dimmed lights and dark flooring, the very one which houses Osaka Kaiyukan’s Pride and joy.
“Oh, it’s Jinbei-san,” Suna breathes, and Osamu’s eyes widen just a little as he turns and blinks in an expanse of blue.
The Pacific Ocean is a massive body of water that covers approximately one-third of the Earth’s entire surface. At the very least, it is some 15,500 kilometers wide and 11,000 meters deep. For one to say that they’ve captured that essence in 5,500 tonnes of water, in a space of 8 by 34 meters, is simply impossible. It simply cannot be done.
And yet, when faced with just a mere glimpse of what the ocean could possibly hold, when presented with a literal pinprick of the tip of the iceberg, Osamu is still blown away.
It’s not even as though Osamu’s never been here before. He’s visited a fair number of times, maybe, as a kid, as a teen, and just last year, when Atsumu had said he wanted to hang out and they couldn’t decide on a movie to watch together.
“Every time,” Atsumu muttered, watching the whale shark swim past them, “every fuckin’ time I come back, I forget how big it is.”
“The whale shark?” Osamu asked.
“No.” Atsumu glanced at him. “The ocean."
Back in the present, Osamu tugs at Suna’s arm, beckoning him closer, and Suna murmurs some form of assent, prompting Osamu to drag them to the front of the tank, where Jinbei-san awaits patiently.
A simple glance at the other sharks makes it clear that despite its overwhelming size, the whale shark might be the least intimidating creature of the lot. The sharks all bear sharp teeth, while the whale shark has none, inhaling plankton as it swims by, spotted skin more soothing to the eye than the same few shades of slate grey which coat the other creatures swimming closer to the ground. Not to say that Osamu dislikes normal sharks, but the whale shark has always been his favourite one here.
“I like it,” Suna whispers in his ear. “It’s cute.”
“It’s big,” Osamu replies, watching with mild fascination as the whale shark continues on its lap around the tank, accompanied by remoras and a few other smaller fish. “Looks gentle.”
Suna nods, taking a few steps back to observe the fish from a wider angle, eyes darting across the expanse of the display as one of the large manta rays makes another round at about their eye level.
“Yeah,” he says absentmindedly, gaze following the ray as it stretches it fins out and glides seamlessly through the water with the occasional flap. “This may be the largest shark tank here, but instead of being intimidating, it’s kinda soothing, y’know?”
Osamu knows. The ambient music that plays in the viewing area resonates gently across the space, an uplifting accompaniment to the movements of the water and the fish which inhabit it. One wave of a ray’s fin is accompanied by another curve of a tail, which blends in seamlessly with the slow, synchronized movement of large fish beneath it. Wherever you look, there’s movement, and in between, pockets of calm, of sea life just sitting in place, observing, unblinking, letting the currents go by.
It’s peaceful. The flow of the water is unchanging, the movement of the whale shark and its accompanying remoras smooth, almost artful, rhythmic in a way that distracts him from the low buzz of chatter surrounding them from other patrons of the aquarium and the presence of the occasional child weaving near his legs.
It’s then that Osamu feels a brush of fingers against his arm, and before he can do anything, Suna shifts closer, bumping his shoulder against his before leaning against the railing.
“Kinda romantic, don’t you think,” Suna says, lightly like it’s a joke, but he’s leaning in close, his eyes are glinting with a hint of a smile, and the jacket he’s wearing today looks good on him and dammit, Osamu thinks, if we weren’t out here, I would kiss you so fucking hard.
“You’re close,” Osamu says under his breath. Suna laughs a little and inches his hands closer, taking Osamu’s pinky in his momentarily before letting go. Nobody notices.
“It’s dark enough. I can be selfish sometimes.”
Suna tilts his head, lips curving slightly, right as the whale shark swims past above their heads, and as gazes flit to the left, chasing the magnificence, Osamu thinks fuck it, dips forward, and kisses him on the cheek.
He does it impulsively, the way the Miyas do things. The way Osamu learned to enjoy his childhood summers with his brother, the way they didn’t plan all their bug hunts and water fights and fruit-picking. The way this carried into their teenage lives and how he had never really planned to catch feelings but hey.
Peck. And just like that, Osamu leans back to watch Suna’s expression.
Suna does not fluster easily, Osamu knows this, but his eyes widen just a little and he glances at Osamu, lips slightly parted, mild surprise blooming across his face, and Osamu grins, satisfied.
“You’re so stupid, Osamu,” Suna mutters, fingers brushing past the side of his face that was kissed before he drops his hand into his pocket.
“Nah, you’re stupid.” Osamu glances to his right, where there’s a second, smaller viewing area. “Wanna see the other sharks?”
Suna nods as they start to walk away from Jinbei-san, trailing the ray which swims past the panels into the next viewing area. The hallway is narrower and darker, and Osamu feels it when Suna moves in closer to his left and encircles his fingers around his wrist.
“Hmm?” Osamu doesn’t take his eyes off the creatures settled on the seafloor. “What?”
Suna’s fingers slide lower to curl around his palm. “Look at me.”
Osamu hums. “But I thought we were here to see the fish.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Suna tugs at him, and suddenly he’s obscuring his view, eyes staring into his, and Osamu feels his cheeks flare with heat. “I’m here. And there’s nobody else around.”
Osamu supposes that must be so, because right at that moment Suna leans forward and kisses him on the mouth, his other hand cupping the side of his jaw.
Maybe they shouldn’t. But maybe they should. Osamu closes his eyes and leans into the sensation, and Suna sighs, mouth warm against his, lips angled to press and deepen the kiss like they both want to.
“Later,” Osamu says when they break apart, “after this.”
Suna nods, hands letting go of Osamu as company starts to trickle in from the side. “Yeah,” he says, faint blush on his cheeks just barely visible through the light bouncing off the glass, “sure. ”
“Sure,” Osamu repeats. And then he’s smiling, because Suna blinks and absentmindedly rubs at his cheek like he’s trying to get rid of his blush, and it’s cute, it’s fucking cute for someone who’s almost twenty centimeters taller than the average Japanese citizen. “Let’s go.”
Okay, maybe Osamu was never an aquarium kid, and maybe Suna was never a summer kid. But maybe it takes time to warm up to both. Maybe it takes the right people to bring you to places you didn’t think you would enjoy. The forest, the seaside, the sunset at the beach. One bowl of shaved ice shared by two people, again and again and again. Everything flows and fits together slowly, if you let it, back then, right now, and in the future.
After all, summer is always there for the taking.