Chapter Text
#1
The first was Nirei.
When Sakura walked into the classroom, he was surprised to see Kiryuu, Tsugeura, and Suo crowded around Nirei's seat — the scene itself wasn't unusual, but the worry on everyone's faces was too obvious, making it feel different.
"What's wrong?"
Sakura walked over. Suo stepped aside, revealing Nirei's smiling face.
No greeting came.
Sakura quickened his pace and stopped in front of Nirei's desk. A notebook was spread open on it, filled with messy scribbles. Nirei flipped back two pages, turned the notebook around, and held it up for Sakura to read. On it was written:
"I've got Sensory Deprivation Syndrome. I can't speak."
Sakura's gaze lifted over the notebook to look at Nirei, who touched his own throat sheepishly. Sakura then shot a questioning look at Suo — he'd already learned to see through Nirei's usual habit of papering things over. The red-haired vice-rep nodded. As far as they could tell, Nirei had indeed only lost his voice; there were no other injuries. It really did seem to be the syndrome.
The second was Sakura, only one day after Nirei.
When Sakura woke up, the world was so quiet. The usual birdsong and street noise were all gone. He sat up and waited in silence for a while, then realized which sense he'd lost — hearing.
He picked up his phone and messaged Nirei and Suo.
Nirei practically crashed into Sakura's place. Sakura watched him stumble in and collapse onto the seat beside him. He could almost imagine the whole clumsy chain of sounds. He watched his yellow-haired friend's mouth open and close.
For a moment, Nirei forgot his own loss of speech — but that was the kind of thing you only needed to try once to be reminded. He fell silent, looking downcast. Without words in the way, Sakura could see Nirei's worry more clearly than ever before.
"You can't talk, and I can't hear — works out perfectly," Sakura said gently.
Nirei blinked back the tears that had started to well up. He pulled out his notebook and pen and wrote:
"perfectly?"
Then, as if hearing something, he turned his head toward the door. Sakura looked up and saw Suo — rarely looking so flustered.
"Good morning." Sakura stole his line.
Suo let out a breath, smiled, crouched down, and took the notebook and pen Nirei handed him.
"Good morning, Sakura-kun."
The third was Suo.
When Sakura opened his eyes, he saw a message from Suo. He almost thought he hadn't woken up yet — Suo rarely messaged them in the morning.
The message was short: "Sakura-kun, I think I've lost my sight."
Sakura met up with Nirei on the way to Suo's place. When they arrived, the door was ajar. Nirei pushed it open and saw Suo sitting on the sofa, holding a cup, facing the window — but the window was closed and the curtains were drawn.
No light.
Nirei practically rushed to his side. He crouched down and waved a hand in front of Suo's eyes, Suo didn't react. He froze there, his hand suspended in midair, at a loss.
But Suo seemed to sense something. He reached out and caught Nirei's wrist, saying, "Good morning... Nire-kun, and Sakura-kun."
Nirei was silent for a moment. Then he wrote in Suo's palm: "How did you open the door?"
"I felt my way over and opened it. I thought you would come."
Nirei started to write more, but Suo spoke first: "I'm fine, Nire-kun. It's just blindness. I'll get used to it in a while." He said it with his usual light smile. Nirei stayed crouched there, not standing. His shoulders were trembling.
Suo felt the tremor, and said again: "I really am fine."
Still, Nirei didn't move. Suo held his hand a little tighter.
But Nirei was the one to pull away first. He stood up, typed Suo's words into his phone to show Sakura, then crouched back down.
Sakura looked around Suo's room — there wasn't much, but pens were scattered across the desk, slippers were crooked by the door, and a teacup sat precariously on the edge of the coffee table.
"This place isn't fit to live in." Suo heard the unspoken half of that sentence, so he said: "I can manage on my own." Nirei typed it out and showed it to Sakura.
"I know you can. But Nirei... would worry too much."
Suo didn't answer right away. He sat there, and for the first time, a faint, almost imperceptible look of helplessness appeared on his face. Nirei took the cup from his hand and wrote in his palm, one stroke at a time — "Come live with us."
Suo was silent for a long time. Finally, he said: "I'd be a burden."
Nirei wrote one word: "No."
Sakura didn't need to hear to know what kind of back-and-forth they were talking. He added: "My place barely has any furniture — it's easier for you to get around." Nirei couldn't speak, so he just tugged at Suo's hand pleadingly.
Suo finally let out a small laugh, and sighed out a "...Fine."
The move was quiet. Nirei packed a few clothes, toiletries, and Suo's favorite teacup. Sakura carried two bags and led the way. Suo stood at the door, reached out, and felt the doorframe. He paused, and asked once more:
"Will I be a burden?"
Sakura didn't say anything. Nirei took Suo's wrist with one hand and gently pulled him forward. With the other, he opened a text-to-speech app, typed a line, and held it up to Suo's ear: "You won't. The three of us living together actually makes things easier. Suo-san lost your sight, and Sakura-san and I lost other things." Suo was silent for a moment, then let himself be guided forward by that hand, and stepped out the door.
#2
The first one up in the morning was always Nirei.
The meticulous — or perhaps overly cautious vice-rep used to set an alarm every five minutes, but for the sake of living together, he'd switched it to vibration instead. So it basically only woke him up — Suo was always just naturally an early riser.
Nirei Akihiko would wake up, yawn, and greet Suo — who was already sitting up neatly like he was meditating — by giving his hand a light squeeze. Suo would respond by tickling Nirei's palm in return. Nirei would let out a few breathy laughs, get out of bed, hand Suo-san his clothes, and head off to wash up. By the time he came back, Suo was already dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with their class representative's bangs.
"Sakura-kun, it's time to get up."
Suo didn't care that Sakura couldn't hear him at all — he just said Sakura's name for his own amusement. The black-and-white-haired class rep seemed to sense something, mumbling a few unintelligible words.
Nirei smiled softly, walked over, and patted Suo's shoulder. The red-haired vice-rep beamed. "Nire-kun."
Nirei took Suo's hand and led him to the bathroom, putting the toothbrush and cup into his hands. He was so attentive that he even squeezed the toothpaste for Suo, which made Suo both amused and exasperated.
"I can still do this much myself, you know."
But Nirei had already stepped out of the bathroom, and a soft knock sounded from the wall.
—Such a lazy "I know."
From the bathroom, Suo heard Sakura's voice stir in the bedroom. He knew Nirei had gone to wake Sakura up. He'd better hurry.
He couldn't see himself in the mirror, but he had a pretty good idea that he was smiling right now.
#3
"Food is the first necessity of the people." as they say. Breakfast was usually bread from the bakery down the street, and lunch could be simple sandwiches or cold bento. Strictly speaking, the only meal that required actual cooking was dinner.
Sakura's house have a kitchen — but by now, it was basically Nirei's territory. Suo was obviously out of the question, and Sakura, having lost his hearing, would get into trouble if he tried to cook two dishes at once — he couldn't use sound to judge oil temperature or how far along the stir-frying was. Besides, he was never good at it in the first place. So simple lunch prep fell to Sakura, while the evening cooking was Nirei's job.
Sakura's apartment was small, and from the so-called kitchen area, Nirei could turn his head and see both Sakura and Suo at once. Most of the time, he was listening in: Sakura and Suo had already worked out a system.
Sakura would speak out loud — since losing his hearing, he always spoke a bit louder without realizing it — and Suo would either write it down on paper or use a speech-to-text app on his phone to show him. At home, the latter was more common — it was faster. So Nirei could seamlessly catch every word of their conversations through his ears.
Nirei knocked on the wall.
Suo heard it, smiled, and patted Sakura's shoulder — interrupting the class rep, who was stewing over a comeback. Suo pointed vaguely toward Nirei by the sound.
"Huh? Oh, it's ready — I'll bring it over."
Sakura still looked a little miffed, but he stood up and walked toward Nirei. Nirei tilted his head at him. As Sakura stepped into the kitchen, he explained: Suo had just claimed that he'd learned martial arts from sleepwalking as a child, and Sakura wasn't buying that anymore.
Alright, alright. Nirei scooped out the fried rice, handed the plate to Sakura, and patted his shoulder reassuringly. He'd actually heard all that from the kitchen too — he was just as resigned to Suo's tall tales as Sakura was. Sakura took the plate, and Nirei freed his hands to show the note he'd already written: "Maybe Suo-san just doesn't want us to worry."
"I know that — that's why I—"
"Sakura-kun — what are you two talking about? I can hear you, you know —" Suo's voice drifted from the bedroom.
What use is it that you can hear us, Nirei thought with amusement, when Sakura-san can't hear you?
So he pointed toward Suo's direction for Sakura. Sakura scrunched up his face. "What's he shouting about now — I'll be right there." The second half he shouted toward the bedroom. Then he turned back to Nirei and said, "I'm going to get the truth out of him."
Sure. Nirei nodded, resigned. Sakura, with all the seriousness of someone heading into battle, carried two portions of rice toward the bedroom. Nirei followed with the third, and with his free hand, he opened the text-to-speech app in advance — it looked like he'd be typing a lot in a minute.
Nirei thought, with a small sense of relief: At least it's me who can't speak, not Sakura-san.