Apple Trees

Part Three

Noya spins around and around in my desk chair as I get dressed on the other side of my closet door.

"--and then," he continues, somehow not dizzy, "Tanaka accidentally stepped on the banana peel, and since he was on marble he actually slid, and the banana he was holding goes flying out of his hand and hits some poor old lady in the back of the head!"

I can't help but let out a short laugh as I tug on a green flannel over my cream shirt and grey, ripped jeans. Nishinoya stops spinning and watches me, with a wide grin and unfocused eyes, as I step out from behind the closet.

"Tanaka sounds like - like he had a great time," I say, walking over to Yuu and taking a hair tie from my desk.

He throws his head back and laughs. The bounce of his damp brown hair and the bobbing of his Adam's apple make me gulp and look away.

"Yeah, but lemme tell you," he starts, taking the hair tie from my hands. He gestures for me to sit on the floor in front of him, which I do with raised eyebrows. "That old lady looked pretty strong when she knocked him upside the head with her cane! And mad, too, even with mushed banana all over her head. She almost came for me, but I offered to help punish Tanaka, which made her laugh."

I let myself smile at the mental image, and at the feeling of Yuu's fingers running through my hair. The soothingness of it makes my eyelids flutter shut. He falls into a hum as he untangles my hair and, eventually, ties it low on my head with with deft hands.

I open my eyes and tilt my head, looking up at him. He grins before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. I sigh contentedly, reaching up to run my fingers through his own hair. Then he squishes my stubbly cheeks, and I laugh, pulling away in mock annoyance.

~•°•°-----------------------°•°•~

The doorbell rings while Yuu is spreading a tablecloth on the dining table. I quickly set the cooling loaves of bread I was holding onto the center of the table and rush away, leaving him to finish setting the table. I shut the door to the room on my way out to keep the food at least semi-hidden.

I pass through the kitchen to the front door. Taking a deep, calming breath, I turn the doorknob.

"Hello, Asahi!" my mother greets, stepping through the door with a smile. "How did you and Nishinoya fare while we were gone?"

My mother is a good foot shorter than I am, with long hair dyed half red and half green for the holidays. Atop a black turtleneck and matching leggings, she dons a plaid peacoat with large buttons. When she was younger, she used to be a clothing model - her habits keep her up to date on fashion trends, which often makes her appear younger than her mid-forties.

I relieve her of a few cloth grocery bags as she squeezes into the kitchen. "We did well  Nishinoya is finishing - finishing setting the dining table, a - and our contribution to the potluck is - is cooling."

Spending hours on end under the tutelage of my father, a retired literary teacher, has left me with the habit of talking formally around adults. The only downside is that, when I do, my stutter gets worse, since I'm focusing more on how I speak. I've since learned to ignore the stares from strangers and acquaintances.

"Wonderful!" my mother exclaims, setting the rest of the bags on the counter and beginning to file the contents away. "The others should be arriving any moment, now. Your father decided to swap rides, and is in a car with your uncle."

I nod and shuffle around the kitchen, folding the now empty bags. Movement at the corner of my vision makes me look up and lock eyes with Yuu. He had somehow found the time to meticulously spike up his hair into its usual style. He grins at me, shutting the dining room door again, before turning to my mother.

"Oh, Mrs. Azumane - you're back!"

She turns with a kind smile that reaches her brown eyes. "Yes; thank you for setting the table and keeping Asahi company."

He laughs, throwing his head back again. "It's my pleasure," he says, winking at me.

My eyes widen and I quickly turn away with a thudding heart as the doorbell rings again. The image of many dwarves piling up against our wooden door pops into my head. I stifle a laugh as I turn the knob.

"Ahh, it smells like freshly-baked bread in here! How wonderful!"

I flash a somewhat sheepish smile at my graying but still boisterous grandfather. He's followed closely by my grandmother, who very forcibly pulls me down to press a kiss to my cheek. After going through the usual rounds of "Look how big you've grown!" and "Still haven't cut your hair, I see", my father and his brother step through the door.

My father, in contrast to my mother, is quite nearly as tall as I am. His brother, younger than him by about a decade, is only taller than me by an inch.

"F - father, uncle," I say in greeting, bowing my head to each in turn.

"My son - you've done exceedingly well this Christmas; though it's no surprise, since your friend so graciously helped!" my father says, the words flowing like butter from his tongue.

After a pause, during which I can see the gears turning in Noya's head as he tries to translate what my father said, Noya bows his head to him with a wide, flattered grin. I can't help but hide my own smile at the contrast between my father's stoic, composed praise and the other's wild, boisterous gratitude. I've even started thinking like my father.

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

Nishinoya's POV

Just ten minutes later, all of Asahi's family had arrived. My mouth is dry from all the greetings and chatter, so I escape the bustling dining room to the empty kitchen for a glass of orange juice. I reach into the fridge, grabbing my prize, before pouring the juice into a glass with a loud yawn.

"Oh, Y - Yuu!"

I jump, nearly spilling the jug. Quickly replacing the cap, I look up at Asahi's surprised figure closing the dining room door behind him. A grin spreads across my face.

"Came here to escape too, huh?" I ask him, stuffing the jug back into the fridge.

He shoves his hands into his jeans sheepishly and wanders closer. "I guess so... i - it's just a bit crowded and - crowded and loud in there."

His stutter is worse. I run my hands through my suprisingly flexible hair spikes before clasping them behind my head. I try to use the movement to hide my worry. "Yeah," I agree, carefully. I'll talk to him about it later.

I let my arms fall and take a gulp of my orange juice, listening to the chatter and laughter in the other room.

"H - hey, I'm sorry your family couldn't make i - it," Asahi says softly, looking down at his feet. For such a big and intimidating guy, he really is just a moping softy.

"It's okay!" I reassure him after swallowing another gulp. "The place's already full to bursting, anyways!"

He manages a grin that only halfway reaches his eyes. "Yeah, I - I suppose it is."

~•°•°-----------------------°•°•~