Chapter Text
Three weeks before the end of the world, Ushijima is watering the plants on his balcony as the television rages on in the background. This is not a habit of his—it is not characteristic of him to be wasteful of anything, much less of electricity, and evening is not the best time for irrigation—but a certain priority had to take precedence that night. That is, his peace of mind, which is frequently disrupted by his next-door neighbors. They are a couple, they are married, and they are childless, which, according to Ushijima's unintentional eavesdropping, is a sore spot in their arguments. Ushijima wouldn't even have a television set if it didn't come with the apartment, preferring to read or browse online, but he is grateful for it these days, the way he can simply turn up the volume when the shouting starts and tune them out, concentrating very hard on the well-being of his plants.
It is during one of these sessions that the news breaks, interrupting the drama that had been broadcasting. There is an asteroid headed for Earth, says the news anchor, and the mission to stop its trajectory has failed. In three weeks, she continues, it will make impact and destroy all life on the planet.
Ushijima glances up from his plants, frowning at that. His neighbors don't seem to have heard yet, if the yelling is any indication. He has just finished dinner, and if he were to follow routine, he would be on his way to bed in preparation for the work day. He wonders if there would even be work to attend tomorrow.
He sets down his watering can and heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth, as he always does before he goes to sleep. There is no use wondering; he will find out in due time.
Two weeks and six days before the end of the world, it turns like it always does, and for Ushijima, the the hours unfold like they always do. He goes in to work and finds that most of his department are not present. Later, he will be told that a fraction of them had killed themselves, while the others have disappeared from the city, presumably to go home to their families. He stumbles upon one of those who stayed snorting cocaine in the men's bathroom, and leaves him to it.
When he returns to his apartment, after clocking in all the hours required of him, his neighbors are no longer fighting. If the creaking bed noises are any indication, they are having vigorous sex. Perhaps it is an act of forgiveness, proof that they do still love each other after all, or perhaps it is celebratory, thanking the gods for not giving them a child to mourn.
Ushijima has watered his plants this morning, so he does not go to the balcony today. He doesn't turn on the television; he does not need reminding that the world is ending. He goes to bed earlier than usual instead.
Two weeks and five days before the end of the world, it is a Saturday, so even Ushijima has no excuse to go to work. Even the television cannot drown out his neighbors' groans and moans, so excavates himself from his apartment to spend the day outside.
It seems a mistake immediately: the streets are in chaos, filled with packed bags and crying children, their parents set on the idea that there is such a thing as running far away enough from an asteroid. Some shops have been looted, and others are on fire. Ushijima contemplates driving away to a farm and spending his last days somewhere quiet, but the drive there in this environment will be troublesome.
He detours into a nearby ramen shop instead, one of those still standing, and orders their biggest bowl, since he will be here a while. After he gives his order, he turns and sees the last person he expects to see, alone as well during the apocalypse.
"Aren't you going to say hello, Ushiwaka-chan?" says Oikawa Tooru, fresh out of Ushijima's youth, his brown curls and doe brown eyes near untouched by age. Ushijima has not seen him in years.
"What are you doing here?" asks Ushijima, because what else was he supposed to say?
Oikawa hums noncommittally, making a vague motion with his chopsticks. "I was in the area, and I remembered I love this shop, and here I am. And you? Any reason you're wallowing alone, so close to the apocalypse?"
"You're alone too," says Ushijima. It's only the truth, and he has always been blunt, but something tells him he should not have said it, as if it might cause Oikawa to fling the remnants of his ramen at Ushijima's head and storm out of the shop, fuming. But Oikawa only hums again, and finishes chewing his noodles before he speaks.
"So you noticed. Everyone's with their misses and their kids, you know? I can't intrude on Iwa-chan, not right now, even if he'll have me. I'd spoil Hajime Jr. rotten, but he deserves to be spending time with his daddy and mommy, not Uncle Tooru." If that is regret in Oikawa's voice, it doesn't linger long enough for Ushijima to find out. "Let me guess. You're in the same lonely boat."
Ushijima nods, even though he does not feel lonely. Or at least he hadn't, until Oikawa reappeared in his life looking like he always does, musing on what-could-have-beens.
His ramen arrives. He murmurs a quiet itadakimasu to himself and begins to eat, feeling Oikawa's gaze on him as he drinks some of the broth. He can hear Oikawa's smile, even without turning his head to look.
"What a sad pair we are, Ushiwaka-chan."
Ushijima, with warm soup in his belly and Oikawa beside him, would not necessarily agree.