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The Yellow Bag

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Kaminari hums happily, a pop song filtering through his earbuds. The blonde goes straight to the luggage carrier, his bright eyes scanning the conveyor belt for his yellow duffle bag. It wouldn’t be very hard to miss. Who else would have a bag like his? No one, which is why picking up his stuff is always easy. He can always see his bag coming.

 

Sending a swift message to his friend Kirishima, he stuffs his phone into his pocket and refocuses on the onslaught of black and brown bags. It doesn’t take long for a blob of yellow to pop up. Jumping forward, he darts his arm out and snatches the yellow bag up.

 

As the teen turns and walks away, he fails to notice the second yellow bag trail into the sight of the other waiting passengers.




“Kirishima, bro!” Kaminari calls out. A huge grin spreads across his face and he raises his free hand to wave frantically. The redhead whips around at the sound of his name, and a grin as wide as Kaminari’s pops onto his face. The two friends charge at each other, and Kirishima is quick to engulf his best friend into a hug.

 

“Bro!” He laughs. “How was the trip?”

 

“It was amazing! Oh, hey, I got you something, let me get it out!”

 

Kirishima’s eyes sparkle with curiosity as Kaminari sets his yellow duffle bag down. “Oh,” his friend suddenly says, “did you stain your bag? You love that thing, what happened?”

 

Kaminari freezes in his movements and slowly looks at where Kirishima is pointing. There, a giant blue stain next to one of the straps stares back at him. Heart pounding, he jerkily unzips the bag and is greeted with clothes that are not his. Just to make sure he didn’t somehow purchase clothes without knowing, he scrambles through the clothes and finds sketchbooks that are definitely not his at the bottom.

 

“This isn’t my bag.”

 

Kirishima stifles a laugh. “What?”

 

“This isn’t my bag!” Kaminari moans in defeat. How could he have been so stupid? Who else could possibly own the same exact bag as him in this ugly shade of yellow? Grabbing the luggage tag he hadn’t seen before, he flips it around and stares at the information.

 

The only thing it gives him is a name.

 

Shinso Hitoshi.




After zipping the bag back up and throwing it over his shoulder, he bolts back into the airport. Kirishima doesn’t follow, shouting something about the car and a ticket. Kaminari doesn’t reply. He scans the packed airport with wild, desperate eyes. He can’t go past a certain point, thanks to excessive security, but the person he got his bag mixed up with can’t be that far, right?

 

Grumbling in frustration, he skids to a stop and scrambles back out the door. Why didn’t this Shinso person put their number on the tag? Isn’t that the point of a luggage tag? He bet this person was some lazy, stupid kid. It would make sense.

 

Shoulders sagging in defeat, Kaminari nearly gives up until a rough voice behind him clears their throat.

 

“Excuse me, but I think you have my bag.”

 

Kaminari whirls around, curse on the tip of his tongue, but the words die as his eyes land on the man. So, not a kid. The guy’s unruly purple hair and striking eyes halt Kaminari’s brain functions. He opens his mouth, closes it, then repeats the process like he’s some sort of fish out of water.

 

The guy-- who must be Shinso-- raises an eyebrow and casually places one of his hands into his pocket. “Uh, hello? I think that’s my bag you’re holding.”

 

Kaminari looks down at the yellow bag in his hand, and then at the one in Shinso’s. “You have horrible taste.” he blurts out.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Kaminari feels his face heat up. Laughing awkwardly, he tries to gently hand the bag over. But it slips from his grasp and clatters to the ground. “Uh-- holy shit-- I’m, you see, it’s been a long day, um, I’m so sorry about that--”

 

The man, Shinso, places Kaminari’s bag down and holds up a hand. “It’s fine.” He mumbles, reaching over to pick up his own bag. “Sorry about the mix up.”

 

“No-- I!” Kaminari stutters way too loudly. Shinso gives him an expectant look. “I mean, I should be the one that’s sorry. I never thought anyone would have the same bag as me, so I didn’t even consider checking it.”

 

A small, amused smile flickers across Shinso’s face. “You assumed no one else would have it because it’s so ugly, right?”

 

Kaminari’s jaw drops. “Yes, that’s exactly why! It’s worked so far. Guess I have to be more careful now…”

 

“The youth of today just have awful taste, don’t they?”

 

Kaminari rolls his eyes. He barely knows the man and he’s already getting teased! “I didn’t mean that, okay?”

 

“I’m messing with you, dude.” Shinso tiredly sighs, his words followed by a yawn. Kaminari has to fight  the urge to yawn too.

 

Before he can say anything else, Shinso lifts his bag onto his shoulder and raises a hand in farewell. “I better be off, sorry again for the mix up.”

 

The purple haired beauty turns and begins to walk away. Glancing at his bag, Kaminari purses his lips in thought. But he doesn’t have time to stand around. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he shoots Kirishima a text before swooping his bag into his arms and running after the tired teen.

 

Once he gets within ear shot, he calls out to him. “Wait! Shinso-san!”

 

The teen, surprisingly, stops and turns around. He gives an interested hum.

 

“Do you...want to go get coffee? It’s the least I could do.”

 

Shinso doesn’t give an answer.

The awkward silence stretches out for so long that Kaminari almost regrets that he even asked. What if that was too forward? Well, it isn’t like he’s asking the guy on a date. He doesn’t even know if this Shinso guy likes dudes! As his mind spins with all these thoughts, he misses the soft chuckle that escapes Shinso’s lips.

 

“Sure,” he says at last, causing Kaminari’s heart to skip a beat. “Why not?”